r • PERKINS LIBRARY L/uke University Kare Dooka Rec'H I "^3 f Form 934— 20M— 7-35 "**^^^. * 1 %4. /? .o A r» VI soon afterward embarked for Russia, being ap- pointed minister plenipotentiary to the court of St. Petersburg. Previously to his departure, he was respectfully requested, by the two senior classes in the college, to consent to a publication of his lectures. He \ ielded to this request, though not without hesitation, as his approaching depart- ure and various incidental occupations would ren- der a revisal of the work impracticable ; and espe- cially as the whole subject, belonging to the pro- fessorship, had not been discussed. These lec- tures however comprehend what, in his estima- tion, iDclongs to rhetoric ; and contain the theory of his branch. The practical part, or what belonged to oratory^ he intended to treat at a future period; and to give, under that head, a detailed analysis of the productions of the most distinguished oratoi's, ancient and modern. However the author may have regretted, that these lectures were thus destined to appear before tlie world without his deliberate revisal, they will, it is believed, be considered as a valuable acquisi- tion to the public, in their present form. The multiplied stores, derived from extensive reading, the energies of a strong and discriminating mind, and the results of much experience and observa- tion, are therein exhibited. To relieve and ani- mate the discussions, appertaining to his subject, he thought proper frequently to indulge in figu- vu rative expression to a degree, which some may not entirely approve. This however was not less the result of deliberation, than of taste. He considered his auditory ; that impression was in- dispensable; and regarded the intimation of Quinc- tilian, Studium discendi voluntate constat. It is certain that his success, in securing the fixed and habitual attention of his auditors, was complete. It will be found that they were not excited with- out an adequate and interesting object. In addi- tion to the mass of information and ingenious dis- cussion on his appropriate topic, those great and essential principles, on which the true dignity and beauty of the human character depend, will be found, on every fit occasion, to be forcibly incul- cated. Like his admired ^lilton^ it was his con- stant aim to point out " the right path of a virtu- ous and noble education." In concurrence with the habitual genius of our Alma Mater, he consult- ed the best good of the pupils, and " sought to temper them such lectures and explanations upon every opportunity," as might " lead and draw them in willing obedience, inflamed with the study of learning and the admiration of virtue ; stirred up with high hopes of living to be brave men, and worthy patriots, dear to God, and famous to all ages." The corporation lost no time in supplying the vacancy, occasioned by Mr. Adam.s' resignation. Vlll On the twenty fifth of August last, they made choice of the Rev. Joseph McKean for that office. His election was confirmed by the overseers. Mr. McKeariy having accepted the ap])ointment, was installed, in the usual academical form, on the thirty first of October ; and on that occasion de- livered an appropriate Latin address. He entered immediately on .the duties of his office. February 26, 1810. CONTENTS. VOLUME FIRST. PAOB. fNAUGURAL ORATION .... 9 LECT. I. General view of rhetoric and oratory . . 33 LECT. II. Objections agaimt eloquence considered . . 53 LECT. in. Origin of oratory ... . . 73 LECT. IV. Orig-iji and progress of oratory at Rome . 95 LECT. V. Cicero and his rhetorical xvritings . . 117 LECT. VL Institutes and character of ^inctilian . 139 LECT. vn. Constituent branches of rhetoric . . . 161 b C CONTENTS. LECT. VIII. State of the controversy . . . . 183 LECT. IX. Topics 207 LECT. X. Arguments and demonstrative oratory . . 229 LECT. XL Deliberative oratory . . . . .253 LECT. XIL yudicial oratory . . . . • 277 LECT. XIIL Judicial oratory . . . • • 297 LECT. XIV. Eloquence of the pidpit .... 321 LECT. xy. Intellectual and 7noral qualities of an orator . 343 LECT. XVL Excitation ai^d manageme7it of the passions . 367 LECT. XVIL Disposition. Exordium .... 391 LECT. XVIIL Narration. 411 AK INAUGURAL ORATION, dBlivered at THE AUTHOR'S INSTALLATION, AS BOYLSTON PROFESSOR OP RHETORIC AND ORATORY. INAUGURAL ORATION. IT is die fortune of some opinions, as well as .of some individual characters, to have been, dur- ing a long succession of ages, subjects of continu- al controversy among mankind. In forming an estimate of the moi*al or intellectual merits of many a person, whose name is recorded in the volumes of histoiy, their virtues and vices are so nearly balanced, that their station in the ranks of fame has never been precisely assigned, and their repu- tation, even after death, vibrates upon the hinges of events, with which they have little or no per- ceptible connexion. Such too has been the des- tiny of the arts and sciences in general, and of the art of rhetoric in particular. Their advancement and decline have been alternate in the annals of the world. At one period they have been cher- ished, admired, and cultivated ; at another neg- 12 INAUGURAL ORATION. lected, despised, and oppressed. Like the fe- vorites of princes, they have had their turns of unbounded influence and of excessive degrada- tion. Now the enthusiasm of their votaries has raised them to the pinnacle of greatness ; now a turn of the wheel has hurled them prostrate in the dust. Nor have these great and sudden revolu- tions always resulted from causes seemingly capa- ble of producing such effects. At one period the barbarian conqueror destroys, at another he adopts, the arts of the vanquished people. The Grecian muses were led captive and in chains to Rome. Once there, they not only burst asun- der their own fetters, but soon, mounting the tri- umphal car, rode with supreme ascendency over their victors. More than once h'^ve the Tartars, after caiT}ing conquest and desolation over the empire of China, been subdued in turn by the arts of the nation, they had enslaved. As if by a wise and equitable retribution of nature the au- thors of violence were doomed to be overpowered by their own prosperity, and to find in every victory the seeds of defeat. On the other hand the arts and sciences, at the hour of their highest exaltation, have been often reproached and insulted by those, on whom, they INAUGURAL ORATION. 13 had bestowed their choicest favors, and most cruelly assaulted by the weapons, which them- selves had conferred. At the zenith of modern civilization the palm of unanswered eloquence was awarded to the writer, who maintained, that the sciences had always promoted rather the miser}-, than the happiness of mankind ; and in the age and nation, which heard the voice of Demosthe- nes, Socrates has been represented as triumphant. ly demonstrating, that rhetoric cannot be digni- fied with the name of an art ; that it is but a pernicious practice.. ..the mere counterfeit of jus- tice. This opinion has had its followers from tlie days of Socrates to our own ; and it still remains an inquiry among men, as in the age of Plato, and in that of Cicero, whether eloquence is an art, worthy of the cultivation of a wise and virtuous man. To assist us in bringing the mind to a sat- isfactory result of this inquiry, it is proper to consider the art, as well in its nature, as in its ef- fects ; to derive our inferences, not merely from the uses, which Imve been made of it, but from the purposes, to which it ought to be applied, and the end, which it is destined to answer. The peculiar and highest characteristic, which distinguishes man from tlie rest of the animal 14 INAUGURAL ORATION. creation, is reason. It is by this attribute, tliat our species is constituted tlie great link between the physical and intellectual world. By our pas- sions and appetites we are placed on a level with the herds of the forest ; by our reason we par- ticipate of the divine nature itselt. Formed of clay, and compounded of dust, we are, in the scale of creation, little higher than the clod of the valley ; endowed with reason, we are little lower than the angels. It is by the gift of reason, that the human species enjoys the exclusive and ines- timable privilege of progi'essive improvement, and is enabled to avail itself of the advantages of individual discovery. As the necessary adjunct and vehicle of reason, the faculty of speech was also bestowed as an exclusive privilege upon man ; not the mei-e utterance of articulate sounds ; no^ the mere cries of passion, which he has in com- mon with the lower orders of animated nature ; but as the conveyance of thought ; as the means of rational intercourse with his fellow- creature, and of humble communion with his God. It is by the means of reason, clothed with speech, that die most precious blessings of social life are communicated from man to man, and that sup- plication, t!iiinksgi\'ing, and praise, are addressed INAUGURAL ORAT'lON. 15 W the Autlior of the universe. How justly then, with the great dramatic poet, may we exclaim, « Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and God-like reason, To rust in us, unus'd." A faculty thus elevated, given us for so sub- lune a purpose, and destined to an end so excel- lent, was not intended by the supreme Creator to be buried in the grave of neglect. As the source of all human improvements, it was itself suscep- tible of improvement by industry and application, by observation and experience. Hence, wher- ever man has been found in a social state, and wherever he has been sensible of his dependence upon a supreme disposer of events, the value and the power of public speaking, if not univer- sally acknowledged, has at least been universal!}- felt. For the truth of these remarks, let me appeal to the testimony of history, sacred and profane. We shall find it equally clear and conclusive from the earliest of her records, which have escaped the ravages of time. When the people of God were groaning under the insupportable 16 INAUGURAL ORATION. ojDpressions of Egyptian bondage, and die Lord of Hosts condescended, by miraculous interposi- tion, to raise them up a deliverer, the \\'ant of ELoq^uENCE was pleaded, by the chosen object of his ministry, as an argument of his incom- petency for the high commission, with which he was to be charged. To supply this deficiency, which, even in the communication of more than human powers. Eternal Wisdom had not seen fit to romove, another favored servant of the Most High was united in the exalted trust of deliverance, and specially appointed, for the purpose of declar- ing the divine will to the oppressor and the op- pressed ; to the monai'ch of Egypt and the chil- dren of Israel. " Is not Aaron, the Levite, thy brother ? I know that he can speak well. And he shall be thy spokesman unto the people ; and he shall be, even he shall be to thee instead of a mouth, and thou shalt be to him instead of God." It was not sufficient for the beneficent purpos- es of divine Providence, that the shepherd of his flock should be invested with the power of performing signs and wonders to authenticate his mission, and command obedience to his words. The appropriate instrument to appal the heart of INAUGURAL OrtATION. 17 the tyrant upon his throne, and to control the wayward dispositions of the people, was an elo- quent speaker ; and the importance of the duty is apparent in the distinction, which separated it from all the other transcendent gifts, with which •the inspired leader was endowed, and committed it, as a special charge, to his associate. Nor will it escape your observation, that, when the first great object of their joint mission was accomplished, and the sacred system of laws and polity for the emancipated nation Vv^as delivered by the voice of heaven from the holy mountain, the sam.c elo- c^uENT SPEAKER was Separated from among thf children of Israel, to minister in the priest's of- fice ; to bear the iniquity of their holy things ; to offer up to God, their creator and preserver, the public tribute of their social adoration. In the fables of Greece and Egj'pt the impor- tance of doquence is attested by the belief, that the art of public speaking was of celestial origin, ascribed to the invention of a God, who, from the possession of this faculty*, was supposed to be the messenger and interpreter of Olympus. It is attested by the solicitude, with which the art was cultivated, at a period of the remotest an- tiquity. 18 INAircURAL ORATION. With the first ghmpse of historical truth,! which bursts from the oriental regions of mytho- logical romance, in that feeble and dubious twi- light, which scarcely discerns the distinction be- tween the fictions of pagan suj^erstition and the narrative of real events, a school of rhetoric and orator}', established in the Peloponnesus, dawns upon our \'iew. After the lapse of a thousand years from that time, Pausanias, a Grecian geog- rapher and historian, explicitly asserts, that he had read a treatise upon the art, composed by the founder of this school, a cotemporary and rela- tive of Theseus, in the age preceding that of the Trojan war. The poems of Homer abound with still more decisive proofs of the estimation, in which the powers of oratory were held, and of the attention, with which it was honored, as an essential object of instruction in the educa- tion of youthv From that era, through the long series of Greek and Roman history down to the gloom of universal night, in which the glories of the Roman empire expired, the triumphs and the splendor of eloquence are multiplied and conspicuous. Then it was, that the practice of the art attained a perfection, ever since unrivalled, and to which INAUGURAL ORATION. 19 ^l succeeding times have listened with admira- tion and despair. At Athens and Rome a town meeting could scarcely be held, without being destined to immortality ; a question of property between individual citizens could scai'cely be litigated, without occupying the attention, and engaging the studies of the remotest nations and the most distant posterity. There is always a certain correspondence and proportion between the estimation, in which an art is held, and the effects, which it produces. In the flourishing periods of Athens and Rome, eloquence was power. It was at pnce the in- sti'ument and the spur to ambition. The talent of public speaking was the key to the highest dignities ; the passport to the supreme dominion of the state. The rod of Hermes was the sceptre of empire ; the voice of oratory was the thunder of Jupiter. The most powerful of human pas- sions was enlisted in the cause of eloquence, and eloquence in return was the most effectual aux- iliary to the passion. In proportion to the won- ders, she achieved, was the eagerness to acquire the faculties of this mighty magician. Oratory was taught, as the occupation of a life. The course of instruction commenced ^vith the hifant 20 INAUGURAL ORATlOJf. in the cradle, and continued to the meridian of manhood. It was made tlie fundamental object of education, and every other part of instruction for childhood, and of discipline for youth, was bent to its accommodation. Arts, science, let- ters, were to be thoroughly studied and investi- gated upon the maxim, that an orator must be a man of universal knowledge. Moral duties were inculcated, because none but a good man could be an orator. Wisdom, learning, virtue herself, were estimated by their subserviency to the pur- poses of eloquence, and the whole duty of man consisted in making himself an accomplished pub- lic speaker. With the dissolution of Roman liberty, and the decline of Roman taste, the reputation and the excellency of the oratorical art fell alike into decay. Under the despotism of the Caesars, the end of eloquence was perverted from persuasion to panegyric, and all her faculties were soon pal- sied by the touch of corruption, or enervated by the impotence of servitude. Then succeeded the midnight of the monkish ages, when with the oth- er liberal arts she slumbered in the profound dark- ness of the cloister. INAUGURAL ORATION. 21 At the revival of letters in modern Europe, ^ f loquence, together with her sister muses, awoke, and shook the poppies from her brow. But theii- torpors still tingled in her veins. In the interval her voice was gone ; her favorite languages were extinct ; her organs v/erc no longer attuned to harmony, and her hcai-ers could no longer under- stand her speech. The discordant jargon of feu- dal anarchy had banished the musical dialects, in which she had ah^'ays delighted. The theatres of her former triumphs were either deserted, or they were filled with the babblers of sophistry and clii- cane. She shrunk intuitively from the forum, for the last object she remembered to have seen there was the head of her darling Cicero, planted upon the rostrum. She ascended the tribunals of justice ; there she found her child. Persuasion, manacled and pinioned by the letter of the h\v ; there she beheld an image of herself, stammering in barbarous Latin, and staggering under the Iimi- ber of a tliousand volumes. Her heart fainted within her. She lost all confidence in herself. Together with her irresistible powers, she lost proportionably the consideration of the world, un- til, instead of comprising the whole system of pub- lic education, she found herself excluded from the 22 INAUGURAL ORATION. circle of sciences, and declared an outlaw from the realms of learning. She was not however doom- ed to eternal silence. With the progress of free- dom and of liberal science, in various parts of mod- em Europe, she obtained access to mingle in tlie deliberations of their parliaments. With labor and difficulty she learned their languages, and lent her aid in giving them form and polish. But she has never recovered die graces of her former beauty, nor the energies of her ancient vigor. The immeasurable superiority of ancient over modem oratory is one of the most remarkable cir- cumstances, which offer themselves to the scruti- ny of reflecting minds, and it is in the languages, the institutions, and the manners of modern Eu- rope, that the solution of a phenomenon, so extra- ordinary, must be sought. The assemblies of the people, of the select councils, or of the senate in Athens and Rome, were held for the purpose of real deliberation. Tlic fiite of measures was not decided before they were proposed. Eloquence produced a powerful effect, not only upon the minds of the hearers, but upon the issue of the de- liberation. In the only countries of modem Eu- rope, where the semblance of deliberative assem- blies has been preserved, corruption, here in the INAUGURAL OKATION". 23 form of executive influence, there in the guise of party spirit, by introducing a more compendious mode of securing decisions, lias crippled the sublimest efforts of oratory, and the AOtes upon questions of magnitude to the interest of nations are all told, long before the questions themselves are submitted to discussion. Hence those na- tions, which for ages have gloried in the devotion to literature, science, and the arts, have never been able to exhibit a specimen of deliberative oratory, that can bear a comparison with those, transmitted down to us from antiquity. Religion indeed has opened one new avenue to the career of eloquence. Amidst the sacrific- es of paganism to her three hundred thousand gods, amidst her sagacious and solemn consulta- tions in the entrails of slaughtered brutes, in the flight of birds, and the feeding of fowls, it had never entered her imagination to call upon the pontiff, the haruspex, or the augur, for discourses to the people, on the nature of their duties to their Maker, their fellow-mortals, and themsehes. This was an idea, too august to be mingled with the ab- surd and ridiculous, or profligate and barbarous rites of her deplorable superstition. It is an insti- tution, for which mankind are indebted to rhris- 24 INAUGURAL ORAtlOST. lianity ; introduced by the Founder himself of tliis divine rehgion, and in every point of view worthy of its high original. Its effects have been to soften the tempers and purify tlie morals of mankind ; not in so high a degree, as benevolence could wish, but enough to call forth our strains of warmest gratitude to that good being, who pro- vides us with the means of promoting our o\in fe- licity, and gives us power to stand, though leaving us free to fall. Here then is an unbounded and inexhaustible field for eloquence, never explored by the ancient orators ; and here alone have the modem Europeans cultivated the art with much success. In vain should we enter the halls of justice, in vain should we listen to the debates of senates for strains of oratorj', worthy of remem- brance, beyond the duration of the occasion, which called them forth. The art of embalming thought by oratory, like tliat of embalming bodies by ar- omatics, would have perished, but for the exer- cises of rcliarion. These alone have in the latter o ages furnished discourses, which remind iis, that eloquence is yet a faculty of the human mind. Among the causes, w^hich have contributed thus to depress the oratory of modem times, must be numbered the indifference, with which it has INAUGURAL ORATION. 25 been treated, as an article of education. The an- cients had fostered an opinion, that this talent was in a more than usual degree the creature of disci- pline ; and it is one of the maxims, handed down to us, as the result of their experience, that men nmst be born to poetry, and bred to eloquence ; that the bard is always the child of nature, and the orator always the issue of instruction. The doc- trine seems to be not entireh'^ without foundation, but was by them carried in both its parts to an extravagant excess. The foundations for the oratorical talent, as well as those of the poetical faculty, must be laid in the bounties of nature ; and as the muse in Homer, impartial in her distribution of good and evil, struck the bard with blindness, when she gave him the powers of song, her sister not unfrequendy, by a like mixture of tenderness and rigor, bestows the blessing of wisdom, while she refuses the readiness of utterance. Without en- tering however into a disquisition, which w ould lead me far beyond the limits of this occasion, 1 may remark, that the modern Europeans have run into the adverse extreme, and appear, during a considerable period, in their system of public edu- cation, to have passed upon eloquence a sentence 4 26 INAUGURAL ORATION. of proscription. Even when they studied rhet- oric, as a theory, they neglected oratory, as an art ; and while assiduously unfolding to their pu- pils the bright displays of Greek and Roman elo- quence, they never attempted to make them elo- quent themselves. Of the prevailing indifference to this department of human leiuTiing no stronger evidence could be offered, than the circumstances, under which we are assembled. Nearly two centuries have elapsed since the foundation of this university. There never ex- isted a people more anxious to bestow upon their children the advantages of education, than our venerable forefathers ; and the name of Harvard is coeval with the first settlement of New Eng- land. Their immediate and remote descendants down to this day have inherited and transmitted the same laudable ardor, and numerous founda- tions of various khids attest their attachment to science and literature ; yet so far have rhetoric and oratory been from enjoying a preeminence in their system of education, that they are now, for the first time, made a separate branch of in- struction ; and I stand here to assume the duties of the first instructer. The establishment of an institution for the purpose was reserved to the INAUGURAL ORATION. 27 name of Boylston ; a name, which, if public benefits can impart a title to remembrance, New England will not easily forget ; a name, to tlie benevolence, public spirit, and genuine patriotism of which, this university, the neighboring metrop- olis, and this whole nation have long had, and still have many reasons to attest ; a name, less distin- guished by stations of splendor, than by deeds of virtue ; and better known to this people by bless- ings enjoyed, than by favors granted ; a name, in fine, which, if not encircled with the external radi- ance of popularity, beams, brightly beams, with the inward lustre of beneficence. The institution itself is not of a recent date. One generation of mankind, according to the usual estimates of hu- man life, has gone by, since the donation of Nich- olas Bo}'lston constituted the fund for the support of this professorship. The misfortunes, which befel the university, unavoidably consequent upon our revolution, and other causes, have concurred in delaying the execution of his intentions until the present time ; and Q\en now they have the prospect of little more than honest zeal for their accom plishment. In reflecting upon the nature of the duties I undertake, a consciousness of deficieijcy for the 28 INAUGURz^L ORATIO.V. task of their performance dwells upon my mind ; which, however ungraciously it may come from my lips, after accepting the appointment, with which I am honored, I yet cannot forbear to ex- press. Though the course of my life has led me to witness the practice of this art in various forms, and though its theory has sometimes attracted my attention, yet my acquaintance with both has been of a general nature ; and I can presume neither to n profound investigation of the one, nor an exten- sive experience of the other. The habits of in- struction too are not familiar to me ; and they constitute an art of little less difficulty and delica- c}^, than tliat of oratory itself ; yet, as the career jnust necessarily be ne^v, by whomsoever it should here be explored, and as it leads to a course of pleasing speculations and studies, I shall rely up- on the indulgence of the friends and patrons to this seminary towards well-meant endeavors, and assume with diffidence the discharge of the func- tions, allotted to the institution. In the theory of the art, and the prmciples of exposition, novelty \viU not be expected ; nor is it perhaps to be de- sired. A subject, which has exhausted the genius of Aristotle, Cicero, and Quinctilian, can neither require nor admit much additional illustration. INAUGURAL ORATION. 29 To select, combine, and apply their precepts, is the only duty left for their followers of all succeed- ing times, and to obtain a perfect familiarity with their instructions is to arrive at the mastery of the art. For effecting this purpose, the teacher can do little more, than second the ardor and assiduity of the scholar. In the generous thirst for useful knowledge, in the honorable emulation of excel- lence, which distinguishes the students of this university, I trust to find an apology for the de- ficiencies of the lecturer. The richness of the soil will compensate for the unskiJfulness of the til- lage. Sons of Harvard ! You, who are ascending with painful step and perscAcring toil the emi- nence of science, to prepare yourselves for the \arious functions and employments of the world before you, it cannot be necessary to urge upon you the importimce of the art, concerning which I am speaking. Is it the purpose of your future life to minister in the temples of Almighty God, to be tlie messenger of heaven upon earth, to en- lighten with the torch of eternal truth the path of your fellow-mortals to brighter worlds ? Remem- ber the reason, assigned for the appointment of Aaron to that ministry, which you purpose to as- 30 INAUGURAL ORATION. sume upon yourself. I know, that he can SPEAK well; and, in this testimonial of Omnip- otence, receive the injunction of your duty. Is your intention to devote the labors of }'Our matu- rity to tlie cause of justice ; to defend the per- sons, the property, and the fame of your fellow citizens from the open assaults of violence, and the secret encroachments of fraud ? Fill the fountains of your eloquence from inexhaustible sources, that their streams, when they sliall begin to flow, may themselves prove inexhaustible. Is there among you a yoiith, whose bosom burns with the fires of honorable ambition ; who aspires to immortalize his name by the extent and importance of his ser- vices to his country ; whose visions of futurity glow with the hope of presiding in her councils, of directing her affairs, of appearing to future ages on the rolls of fame, as her ornament and pride ? Let him catch from the relics of ancient oratory those unresisted powers, which mould the mind of man to the will of the speaker, and yield the guidance of a nation to the dominion of the voice. Under governments purely republican, where every citizen has a deep interest in the affairs of llic nation, and, in some form of public assembly or other, has the means and opportunity of deliver. INAUGURAL ORATION. 31 ing his opinions, and of communicating his senti- ments by speech ; where government itself has no arms but those of persuasion ; where prejudice has not acquired an uncontrolcd ascendency, and faction is yet confined within the barriers of peace ; the voice of eloquence will not be heard in vain. March then with firm, \\ith steady, with undeviat- ing step, to the prize of your high calling. Gatli- er fragrance from the whole paradise of science, and learn to distil from your lips all the honies of per- suasion. Consecrate, above all, the faculties of your life to the cause of truth, of freedom, and of humanit}-. So shall your country ever gladden at the sound of your voice, and every talent, added to your accomplishments, become another bJess- ing to mankind. LECTUllE 1. GENERAL VIEW OF RHETORIC AND ORATORY IN entering upon a course of lectures on sub- jects, which have not hitherto been treated, as sep- arate branches of instruction at this place, and which must in some sort bear the characters of novelty, it will be proper to take a general view of the nature and extent of the field before us. Although, until this time, no specific and peculiar establishment, confined to rhetoric and oratory, has existed, yet die pupils of this seminary have not been destitute of instruction upon its most essen- tial parts, under the direction of teachers in the kindred arts of grammar, or language in gener- al, and of logic. As these departments of study still remain, and the institution, under which I ap- pear, has been superadded to them, by embracing a part of their duties, a prcliminarv consideration 5 34 GENERAL VIEW OF [l£CT. I. requires, that wc should ascertain precisely what is the compass and extent of this art, and where arc the lines, by which it is separated from the study of language in general, ^\-ithout which it cannot exist at all ; and from the art of reasoning, without which that of oratory would be destitute of all solid foundation. The subjects, upon which it is my pro- ^■ince to discourse, are rlietoric and oratory ; terms, which in ordinary language are often used, as synonymous in their meaning ; but \\hich are to be distinguished, as properly applying, the for- mer to the theory, and the latter to the practice of the art. This distinction will become the more obvious from the consideration, that the terms are, even in common understanding, no longer con- vertible, when modified to designate the persons, professing them ; and the difference between the rhetorician and the orator, is instantly perceived and distinctly conveyed, by the mere use of these respective appellations. This distinction it will be proper constantly to bear in mind. It is al- ways useful to mark the difference, as well as the relation l^etween the cause and its effect ; and in the progress of our discussion we shall have fre- quent occasion separately and distinctly to exam- LECT. 1.3 RHETORIC AND ORATORY. 35 ine as well the principles of the rhctoricinn, as the performances of the orator. The definitions of rhetoric, by the ancient writ- ers upon the art, are so numerous and so various, not only in the selection of their terms, but in the ideas, which they embrace, that Qiiinctilian, after recapitulating and submitting to the test of crit- ical examination a grc.it number of them, declares, that every new author seemed possessed with the foolish ambition of discarding all definitions, be- fore adopted by any other, and determined at all events to give one of his own. Among the ma- ny imperfect, redundant, and aflfected forms, ^vhicli this rage for novelty of expression, and this studi' ed indocility to the toils of preceding laborers, have occasioned, I shall present to your consid- eration only those of the three great masters, from whom every thing of real importance to tlie art has been derived, Aristotle, Cicero, and Quinc- tilian himself. Rhetoric, says Aristotle, is the power of inventing whatsoever is persuasive in discourse. This is liable to two objections. First, as it includes only one part of the art, invention, omit- ting the essential requisites of disposition and elo- cution. And secondly, though persuasion be one 36 GENERAL VIEW OF [lECT. I. of the principal ends of rhetoric, it is not exclu- sively so. Of a very important and extensiv(p class of discourses, styled by Aristotle himself, and by all the other ancient rhetoricians, demon- strative orations, persuasion is not even the prin- cipal end ; and, even in the fields of deliberative and judicial eloquence, all the arts of rhetoric have often been employed without producing per- suafiion. This difficulty stands yet more conspicuously in the way of Cicero's definition, the art of per- suasion ; a definition, appearing indeed only in the rhetorical compilations of his youth, of which he himself afterwards entertained a very indifferent opinion. To say, that rhetoric is the art of per- suasion, is to make success the only criterion of eloquence. Persuasion must in a great measure depend upon the "vviil, the temper, and the dispo- sition of the hearei". If the adder will turn away his ear, what persuasion is there in the voice of the charmer ? Persuasion then is not the infallible test of the rhetorical art ; neither is rhetoric ex- clusively in possession of persuasion. To enume- rate all the instruments of persuasion, would be to give a catalogue of all the passions and motives. LECT, I.] RHETORIC AND ORATORY. 57 which can, without the exercise offeree, be made to operate upon the human mind. Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs. Silence, that speaks, and eloquence of eyes. pope's II.IAD, xi\ . 250. To this it has been justly replied, that persua- sion, being so nearly identified with the liltimate purpose of all oratorical art, may witliout danger be admitted, as the same in every case, where phi- losophical precision is unnecessary. Of delibera- tive and judicial eloquence persuasion is the gi'cat and fundamental object ; and the public speaker, in composing or pronouncing liis discourse, should never lose sight of this principle. There is no better test for the correctness of any precept in the science of rhetoric, nor for the excellence of any example in the practice of oratory, than its apti- tude to persuasion. But as tlie object of a scien- tific definition is to comprise in the fewest words the whole substance of the term defined, and nothing more, it must be allowed, that those of Aristotle and Cicero are not absolutely unex- ceptionable. The definition, adopted by Quinctilian from some former writer, whom he does not name, is 38 CENEllAL VIEW OF [lECT. I, more correct, more precise, and conipreliensive. Rhetoric in his judgment is the science of speak- ing well. The principal reason, which he assigns for preferring this definition to all the rest, may perhaps be controverted, for he contends, that it includes the moral character of the speaker, as well as the excellence of speech ; because none but an 'honest man can speak well. I shall on a future occasion examine impartially, and endeavor to ascertain precisely the true value of this opin- ion, Vv'hlch is so Vv-armly advocated b}' all the great orators of antiquity. At present I shall only re- mark, that admitting the maxim in its fullest lati- tude, it does not appear to me to be necessarily implied in this definition ; nor can I admit the argument, as decisive for giving it the prefer^ ence. The reasons, wliich I deem far more conclu- sive for adopting it, are its comprehensive simplic- ity, and its remarkable coincidence with that vir- tual definition of the art, contained in the holy scrip- tures. The art of speaking well embraces in the fewest possible words the whole compass of the subject. You can imagine no species of rhetori- cal excellence, which would not be included in the idea, and the idea involves nothing beyond LECT. I.] RHETORIC AND ORATORY. 39 the boundaries of tlie art. It is full without re- dundance, and capacious without obscurity. It has also the sanction of holy writ. Observe the force of the expressions, used in the solemn in- terview between the suprcine Creator and " That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed, " In the bcgiiining, how the heavens and earth " Rose out of chaos." And Moses said unto the Lord, O my Lord, I am not eloquent, neither heretofore, nor since thou hast spoken unto thy servant. What is the even- tual reply ? Is not Aaron the Levite tliy brother ? I know that he can speak well. In the language of sacred inspiration itself, to speak well is pre- cisely equivalent to the art of eloquence, and in this definition the words of Quinctilian are ratified by the voice of heaven. His approbation of another definition, w'hich includes in the idea of rhetoric the art of thinking, together Avith that of speaking well, is not warrant- ed by the same infallible authority. The connex- ion between genuine rhetoric and sound logic is indeed indissoluble. All good speaking must necessarily rest upon the basis of accurate think- ing. But to form a precise idea of the t^vo arts, 40 GENERAL VIEW OF [lECT. I. we must carefully distinguish them from each other, and confine them to their respective peculiar depart- ments ; logic to the operations of the mind, within itself ; rhetoric to the communication of their re- sults to the minds of others. In this view logic is the store house, from which the instruments of rhetoric are to be drawn. Logic is the arsenal, and rhetoric the artillery, which it preserves. Both have their utility; both contribute to the same purposes. But the arts themselves are as distinct, as those of the architect, who erects the building, and of the armorer, who fabricates the weapons. Thus Aristotle, who perceived as well the clear distinction, as the necessary relation be- tween these faculties, has treated of them in two distinct works ; and unfolded their mysteries with all the energies of his profound, comprehensive, and discriminating genius. Equally proper and necessary will it be to separate in our minds the science of rhetoric, or of speaking well, from that of grammar, or the science of speaking correctly. Grammar stands in the same relation to rhetoric, that arithmetic bears to geometry. Rhetoric is not essential to grammar, but grammar is indispensable to rheto- ric. The one teaches an art of mere necessitv ; LECT. 1.3 RHETORIC AXD ORATORY. 41 the Other, an art of superadded ornament. Witli- outa system of grammatical construction, the pow- er of speech itself would be ofno avail, and language would be a mere intellectual chaos ; a perpetual Babel of confusion. But the powers of grammar extend no farther, than to the communication of ideas. To delight the imagination, or to move the passions, you must have recourse to rhetoric. Grammar clothes the shadowy tribes of mind in the plain, substantial attire of a quaker ; rhetoric arrays them in the glories of princely magnifi- cence. Grammar is sufficient to conduct you over the boundless plains of thought ; but rhetor- ic alone has access to the lofty regions of fancy. Rhetoric alone can penetrate to the secret cham- bers of the heart. If then we adopt the definition of Quinctilian, that rhetoric is the science of speaking well, we may apply the same terms to define omtory, sub- stituting only the word ait, instead of science. In this respect our language offers a facility, which neither the Greek nor the Latin possessed. The Greeks had no term to designate the art, as dis- tinguished from the dieory. Their science was rhetoric, and their speaker was a rhetor. The Romans adopted the first of these ^vords. as they 6 42 GENERAL VIEW OF [lECT. I. received the science from Greece. To signify the speaker they used tlie word orator, derived from their own language. Some attempts wqyc made to put in circulation the term oratoria, but they were resisted by their philological critics, and it is expressly censured and rejected by Quinctilian, as irreconcileable with their etymo- logical analogies. The \vant of the proper word is most strikingly discovered in the titles of Cice- ro's rhetorical works. At one time it led him to the necessity of assuming a part for the whole, and of styling four books of rhetoric a treatise up- on invention. At another it compelled him to embody the talent itself in the person of the speak- er, and denominate his system of oratory, the ora- tor. The English language however has been less scrupulous in its adherence to the niceties of etymology. It has admitted the term oratory, which the Romans so fastidiously excluded, and annexes to it a modification of idea, distinct from that of the Grecian term, which has also been made English by adoption. Thus accumulating our riches from the united funds of Grecian ge- nius and of Roman industry, we call rhetoric the science, and oratory the art of speaking, welL LECT. I.] RHETORIC AND ORATORY. 43 But to avoid misapprehension, a further ex- planation of the sense, in which the words are to be understood, appears to be necessary. Speech as the most ordinary vehicle of communication between men, in all their relations with one anoth- er, whether of a public or private nature. By the lU't or science of speaking well, it is not intended to give rules for a system of private conversation in tlic domestic intercourse of a family, or in die ordinary associations of business or of friendship. There are doubdcss frequent occasions, when the means of oratorical persuasion may be used, as seasonably and as usefully in private, as in public ; between two individuals, as before a numerous audience. Talk logic with acquaintance, that you have, And practise rhetoric in your common talk, TAM. SHE. savs one of the characters in Shakspeare to his collegiate friend ; and the advice is good. But it is not for this, that an artificial system of eloquence was ever constructed, or ought ever to be taught. A musician of taste and skill will habitually give to his voice, even in ordinary conversation, more 44 GENERAL VIEW or [lECT, I. melodious aiid variegated inflexions, than a person, ignorant of his art ; yet this is no reason for him to modulate his voice in conversation by the scale of his gamut. It is unquestionably true, that those move easiest, who have learnt to dance ; but this is no reason for entering a room with the steps of a minuet, or walking the streets in a horn- pipe. Equally absurd would it be to exercise in the familiar converse of life the practices of an orator by system ; and we must be always under- stood, as having reference to public speaking, when we define oratory, as the art of spealving weU. Oratory then is an art. This point has not been seriously controverted in modern times ; though among the ancients it was debated with great wai-mtli and ingenuity. A more important question however, which has been agitated in all ages, and Mill perh.aps never be placed altogether beyond the reach of controversy, is, whether ora- tory can be numbered among the useful arts? Whether its tendencies are not as strong to the perversion, as to the improvement of men ? Whether it has not more frequently been made an engine of evil, than of good to the world? Or whether at best it is not one of those frivolous LECT. I.] RHETORIC AND ORATORY. 45 arts, which consists more in arbitrary, multifari- ous subdivisions and hard words, than in any real, practical utility. The question is to you, my friends, of so much importance, that in justice to you, to myself, and to the institution, under which I address you, 1 think a more ample consideration of its merits proper and necessary. Your time and your talents arc precious, not only to your- selves, but to your connexions, and to your coun- try. They ought therefore not to be wasted upon any trifling or improfitablc, and much less to be mispent upon any mischievous pursuit. In the observations, which I shall now submit to you, it is my intention to suggest the peculiar utility of the art, in the situation of this country, and adapt- ed to the circumstances, which may probably call upon many of you for its exercise, in the progress of your future lives. In the state of society, which exists among us, some professional occupation is, to almost every man in the community, the requisition of necessi- t}-, as well as of duty. None of us liveth to him- self ; and as we live to our fomilies, by the several relations and employments of domestic life, to our friends, by the intercourse cf more intimate socie- ty ar.d mutual good offices, so we live to our 46 GENERAL VIEW OF [lECT. I. country and to mankind in general, by the per- formance of those services, and by the discharge of those labors, which belong to the profession \vc have chosen, as the occupation of our lives. Whatsoever it is incumbent upon a man to do, it is surely expedient to do well. Now of the three learned professions, which more especially demand the preparatory discipline of a learned ed- ucation, there are two, whose most important oc- cupations consist in the act of public speaking. And who can doubt, but that in the sacred desk, or at the bar, the man, who speaks well, will en- joy a larger share of reputation, and be more useful to his fello^v creatures, than the divine or the lawyer of equal learning and integrity, but un- blest with the talent of oratory ? But the pulpit is especially the throne of modern eloquence. There it is, that speech is ^iummoned to realize the fabled wonders of the Orphean lyre. The preacher has no control over the will of liis audience, other than the influence of his discourse. Yet, as the ambassador of Christ, it is his great and awful duty to call sinners to re- pentance. His only weapon is the voice; and with this he is to appal the guilty, and to reclaim the infidel ; to rouse the indifferent, and to shame LECT. I.J ilHETORie AND ORATORY. 47 die scorner. He is to inflame the lukewarm, to encourage the timid, and to cheer the desponding; believer. He is to pour the healing halm of con- solation into the bleeding heart of sorrow, and to sooth with celestial hope the very agonies of death. Now tell me who it is, that will best possess and most effectually exercise these more than magic powers ? Who is it, that will most effectually stem the torrent of human passions,^ and calm tlie raging waves of human vice and fol- ly ? Who is it, tliat, with the voice of a Joshua, shall control the course of nature herself in the perverted heart, and arrest the luminaries of wis- dom and virtue in their rapid revolutions round this little world of man ? Is it the cold and languid speaker, whose words fall in such slug- gish and drowsy motion from his lips, that they can promote nothing but the slumbers of his audi- tory, and administer opiates to the body, rather than stimulants to the soul ? Is it the unlettered Umatic, without method, without reason ; with in- coherent raving, and vociferous ignorance, calcu- lated to fit his hearers, not for the kingdom of heaven, but for a hospital of lunatics ? Is it even the learned, ingenious, and pious minister of Christ, who, by neglect or contempt of the oratoric- 48 GENERAL VIEW OF [lECT. I* al art, has contracted a whining, monotonous sing- ?jong of dehvery to exercise the patience of his flock, at tlie expense of their other Christian graces ? Or is it the genuine orator of heaven, with a heart sincere, upright, and fervent ; a mind stored with that universal knowledge, required as the foundation of the art ; w^ith a genius for the invention, a skill for the disposition, and a voice for the elocution of every argument to convince and of every sentiment to persuade ? If then we admit, that the art of orator}^ qualifies the minister of the gospel to perform in higher perfection the duties of his station, we can no longer question, whether it be proper for his cultiAation. It is more than proper ; it is one of his most solemn and indispensable duties. If Nature never lends The smallest scruple ol her excellence, But like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use, more especially is the oijligation of exerting every talent, of improving every faculty incumbent upon him, who undertakes the task of instructing, of LECT. I.] RHETORIC AND ORATORY. 49 reforming, and of guiding in the paths of virtue and religion, his fellow mortals. The practitioner at the bar, having a just idea of his professional duties, will consider himself as the minister of justice among men, and feel it his obligation to maintain and protect the rights of those, who entrust their affairs to his charge, whether they are rights of person or of property ; whether public or pri^^ate ; whether of civil or of criminal jurisdiction. The litigation of these rights in the courts of justice often requires the exertion of the most exalted intellectual powers ; and it is by pub- lic speaking alone, that they can be exerted. For the knowledge of the law the learning of the closet may suffice ; for its application to the circumstances of the individual case, correct reasoning and a sound judgment will be com- petent. But when an intricate controversy must be unfolded in a perspicuous manner to the mind of the judge, or a tangled tissue of blended facts and law must be famiHarly un- ravelled to a jury ; that is, at the very crisis, when the contest is to be decided by the au- thority of the land, learning and judgment are of no avail to the client or his counseU 50 CKNERAL VIEW Of [lECT. I. without the assistance of an eloquent voice to make them known. Then it is, that all the arts of the orator are called into action, and that ev- ery part of a rhetorical discourse finds its place for the success of the cause. The diamond in the mine is no brighter, than the pebble upon the beach. From the hand ofthc lapidary must it learn to sparkle in the solar beam, and to glitter in the imperial crown. The crowd of clients, the profits of practice, and the honors of repu- tation, will all inevital^ly fly to him, w^ho is kno\VTi to possess, not only the precious treasures of le- gal learning, but the keys, which alone can open them to the public eye. Hence if personal util- ity, the acquisition of wealth, of honor, and of fame, is the pursuit of the lawyer, the impulse of eloquence can alone speed him in his course. If relative utility, the faculty of discharging in the utmost perfection the duties of his station, and the means of being most serviceable to his fellow creatures, is the nobler object of his ambi- tion, still he can soar to that elevated aim only upon the pinions of eloquence. But besides these two professions, of which oratory may be called the vital principle, a fi*ee republic, like that, in which an indulgent provi- LECT. I.] RHETORIC AND ORATORY. 51 dence has cast our lot, bestows importance up- on the powers of eloquence, to every class and description of citizens. An estimate of this, and of some sjoecific objections against the art, will form the subject of my next lecture. LECTURE II. OBJECTIONS AGAINST ELOQUENCE CONSIDERED. WE have hitherto considered the importance and utility of the oratorical art, only \\ith regard to its influence upon the private relations of life ; and pointed out the inducements, which recom- mend its cultivation to the lawyer and the divine. These considerations ha\c their weight in all civilized countries, fovorcd a\ ith the light of the gospel, and enjoying a regular administration of government. Under all the forms of pol- ity, prevailing among the European nations, considerable scope is allowed to the eloquence of the bar and of the pulpit ; under all, the induce- ments I have suggested for coveting these splen- did and useful talents must have their force. There are others, which, if not exclusively appli- cable to our nati^-e country, and our present state of society, are at least of more than ordinary magni- tujie to us. But before I enter upon a survey of 54 OBJECTIONS AGAINST [lECT. II. these local and occasional objects, which give so much ad\entltious cumulation to the arguments of universal application in favor of eloquence, it may be proper to examine witli candor the olDJections, which often have been and still are occasionally urged against it. These objections are thi-ee. First, that rhetor- ic is a pedantic science, overcharged with scho- lastic subtleties, and innumerable divisions and subdivisions, burdensome to the memory, op- pressive to genius, and never applicable to any valuable purpose in the business of the world. Second, that it is a frivolous science, substituting childish declamation instead of manly sense, and adapted rather to the pageantry of a public festi- val, than to the sober concerns of real life. And third, that it is a pernicious science ; tlie purpose of which is to mislead the judgment by fascinat- ing the imagination. That its tendencies are to subject the reason of men to the control of their passions ; to pervert private justice, and to des- troy public liberty. These are formidable ob- jections, and unless a sound and satisfactory an- swer can be given to them all, both your time and mine, my friends, is at this moment very ill employed, and the call I am obliged to make LfiCTi II.] ELOQUENCE CONSIDERED. 55 Upon your attention is a trespass upon something more than your patience. Let me first remark, that tlie last of these diffi- culties is not barely at variance with, but in direct hostility to the other two. If rhetoric be a pe- dantic science, consisting of nothing but a tedi- ous and affected enumeration of the figures of speech, or if it be a frivolous science, teaching only the process of beating up a frothy declama- tion into seeming consistency, at least it cannot be that deadly weapon, the possession of which is so pernicious, that the affection of a parent, studi- ous of the learning and virtue of his son, dares not entrust it to his hand. If rhetoric be no more than the Babylonish dialect of the schools, if ora- tory be no more than tlie sounding emptiness of the scholar ,they are at least not those dangerous and destructive engines, which pollute the fountains of justice, and batter down the liberties of nations. These objections are still more at strife with each other, than with the science, against i\ hich they are pointed. Were they urged by one and the same disputant, we might be content to array them against each otlier. "We might oppose the argument of insignificance against the argument of danger; and enjoy the triumph of beholding our \ 56 OBJECTIONS AGAINST [lECT. Hi adversary refute himself. But inasmuch as they spring from different sources, they are entitled to a distinct consideration. From their mutual op- position, the only conclusive inference we can draw against them is, that they cannot all be well founded. Let us endeavour to prove the same against each of them separately, begin- ning with those, which affect only the useful- ness, and not the moral character of our pro- fession. The first assault then, which we are called upon to repel, comes from the shaft of wit ; al- ways a formidable, but not always a fair antag- onist. A poet of real genius and original humor, in a couplet, which goes farther to discredit all systems of rhetoTic, than volumes of sober argument can effect in promoting them, has told the world, that All a rhetorician's rules Teach nothing but to name his tools. But happily the doctrine, that ridicule is the test of truth, has never obtained the assent of the rational part of mankind. Wit, like the ancient Parthian, flies while it fights ; or like the modem LECT. II.] ELOqUENCE CONSIDERED. 57 Indian, shoots from behind trees and hedges. The arrow comes winged from an irwisible hand. It rankles in your side, and you look in vain for the archer. Wit is the unjust judge, who often decides wrong ; and even when right, often from a wrong motive. From his decisions however, after paying the forfeit, there is always an appeal to the more even balance of common sense. On this review wc shall find the poet's position not exactly conformable to truth; and even so far as true, by no means decisive against the study of the science. For what can be more necessary to the artist, than to know the names, as well as the uses of his tools ? Rhetoric alone can never constitute an orator. No human art can be acquired by the mere knowledge of the principles, upon which it is founded. But the artist, who understands its principles, will exer- cise his art in the highest perfection. The pro- foundest study of the writers upon architecture, the most laborious contemplation of its magnifi- cent monuments will never make a mason. But the mason, thoroughly acquainted with the ^vi'iters, and familiar to the construction of those monu- ments, v^dll surely be an abler artist, than the mere mechanic, ignorant of the mvsteries of his trade, 8 58 OBJECTIONS AGAINST [lECT. IL. and even of the names of his tools. A celebrated French comic writer, Molier^, has represented one of his characters,, learning with great astonish- ment and self-admiration, at the age of forty, that lie had been all his life time speaking prose with- out knowing it. And this bright discovery comes from the information he then first receives from his teacher of grammar, that whatsoever is not prose is verse, and whatsoever is not verse is prose. But the names of the rhetorician's rules are not the only objects of his precepts. They ai*e not even essential to the science. Figurative and ornamented language indeed is one of the impor- tant properties of oratory, and when the art came to be reduced into a system among the ancient Greeks, some of the subordinate writers, unable to produce any thing of their own upon the gener- al subject, exercised their subtlety to discrimin- ate, and their ingenuity to name the innumerably variety of forms, in which language may be divert- ed from the direct into the figurative channel. Pursuing this object with more penetration than discernment, they ransacked all their celebrated authors for figures of speech, to give them names; and often finding in their search some incorrect LEC'f. II.] ELOqUENCE CONSIDERED. 59 expression, which the inattention of the writer had overlooked, they conchided it was a figure of speech, because it was not conformable to gram- matical construction ; and very gravely turning a blunder into a trope, invested it with the dignity of a learned name. A succession of these rhe- torical nomenclators were continually improving upon one another, until the catalogue of figures grew to a lexicon, and the natural shape of rhetoric was distended to a dropsy. This excessive importance, given to one of the branches of the science, led to the absurd notion, that all rlietoric was comprised in- the denomina- tion of figurative expressions, and finally provoked the lash of Butler's ridicule. But he must have a partial and contracted idea indeed of rhetoric, who can believe, that by the art of pei'suasion is meant no more than the art of distinguishing between a metonymy and a metaphor, or of settling the boundary between synecdoche and antonomasia. So far is this from being true, that Aristotle, tlie great father of tlie science, though he treats in general terms of metaphorical language, bestows very little consideration upon it, and cautions the orator, perhaps too rigorously, ag-ainst its use. Cicero, though from the natural turn of his gen- 60 OBJECTIONS AGAINST [lECT. II. ius more liberal of these seductive graces, allows them only a very modeiate station in his estimate of the art ; and Quinctilian appropriates to them only part of two, out of his twelve books of in- stitutes. The idea, that the purpose of rhetoric is onl} to teach the art of making and. delivering a holi- day declamation, proceeds from a view of the subject equally erroneous and superficial. Were this its only or even its principal object, its acqui- sition might rationally occupy a few moments of your leisure, but could not claim that assiduous study and persevering application, without which no man will ever be an orator. It would stand in the rank of elegant accomplishments, but could not aspire to that of useful talents. Perhaps one of the causes of this mistaken estimate of the art is the usual process, by which it is learnt. The exercises of the student are necessarily confined to this lowest department of the science. Your weekly declamation^, your occasional themes, and forensic disputeSjandthe dialogues,conferences, an4 orations of the public exhibitions, from the nature of tilings, must relate merely to speculative sub- jects. Here is no issue for trial, in which the life or fortune of an individual may be involved, lECT. I.] ELOQUENCE CONSIDERED. 61 Here is no vote to be taken, upon which the des- tinies of a nation may be suspended. Here is no immortal soul, whose future blessedness or mise- ry may hinge upon your powers of eloquence to carry conviction to the heart. But here it is, that you must prepare yourselves to act your part in those great realities of life. To consider the les- sons or the practices, by wliich the art of oratory can be learnt, as the substance of the art itself, is to mistake the means for the end. It is to meas- ure the military merits of a general by the gold threads of his epaulette, or to appreciate the valor of the soldier by the burning of powder upon a parade. The eloquence of the college is like the (discipline of a review. The ait of war, we are all sensible, docs not consist in the manoeuvres of a training day ; nor the steadfastness of the soldier at the hour of battle, in the drilling of his orderly Serjeant. Yet the superior excellence of the veteran army is exemplified in nothing more forci- bly, than in the perfection of its discipline. It is ^ in the heat of action, upon the field of blood, that the fortune of the day may be decided by the ex- actness of the manual exercise ; and the art of dis- playing a column, or directing a charge, may turn the balance of victory and change the history of 62 OBJECTIONS AGAINST [lECT. II. the world. The application of tl:ese observntions is as direct to the art of oratory, as to that of war. The exercises, to which you are here accustomed, are not intended merely for the display of the tal- ents, you have acerhaps not inferior to his great competitor. But it is from the example of Cicero's life, that tlie only means of obtaining un- rivalled excellence is to be learnt. The diirst for distinction, as an orator, was felt by Cicero from his very childhood. He frequented assiduously all the scenes of public speaking, and listened with eager avidity to the eminent orators of the age. He was continually reading, writing, medi- tating upon this favorite pursuit. He sought in struction in jurisprudence from Scevola, in phi- losophy from Philo, the Athenian, in oratory from Molon of Rhodes, in logic from Diodotus, tlie Stoic ; associating witl\ the study of rhetoric a close application to every branch of learning, connected with it, and composing by turns, both in the Greek iuid Latin languages, according as the attendance upon his several instructers required. 124 CICERO AND HIS [lECT. V. After a long and imrcmitting course of prd paration like this, he made his first appearance at die bar ; and in his oration for Rosciiis of Ameria, delivered in his twenty seventh year, unfolded those wonderful powers, which were to make him the glory of his own age, and the admiration of all succeeding times. His constitution was naturally feeble, and had probably sufiered by the intenseness of his application. His friends and physicians advised him to abandon the profession, and sacrifice his hope of glory to his health. But these were not counsels for the soul of Gicero. With the genuine, inflexible enthusiasm of genius, he resolved to persevere in his high career, though it should cost him his life. With the united view however of recovering his health and enlarg- ing the sphere of his improvement, he visited Greece and Asia Minor. He spent six months at Athens, during which he went through a re- newed course of moral pliilosophy, and of me- chanical oraLprical exercises, under Demetrius Syrus. Thence he travelled over Asia, never losing an opportunity to hear the public speakers, pclebrated tliroughout those regions. On his re- turn he made some stay in the island of Rhodes, where he took further lessons of practice from hi^ JLgCT. v.] RHETORICAL WRITINGS. 125 old instiuctcr, Melon, whom he eulogizes for friendly severity, in remarking his faults. At the expiration of two years he returned to Rome ; his health confirmed, and every faculty impro-sed by the labors of his absence. He was very soon sent, as quaestor, into Sicily, and there widi un- wearied industry continued his rhetorical stud- ies ; so that he was qualified to display the full blaze of his talents in his accusation of Vcrrcs. Hortensius was then without a riviil at the bar. He had attained the highest official honors of the republic. Among the characters of his own age and standing, he knew there was none able to contest the first rank in oratory with him ; and he had no suspicion, that a younger man was arising to \vTest the prize from his hands. The relaxation so naturally consequent upon success, the desire quiet)}' to enjoy the fruits of his former labors, rendered him indolent and careless. Cice- ro continued persevering and indefatigable. In less dian three years the reputation of Hortensius began, among competent judges, to dechne; and it was not much longer, before the waning of his fame was perceptible to the multitude. By the time, when Cicero obtained the consular dignity, Horten- sius was almost forgotten ; and although roused to 126 CICERO AND HIS [lECT. V. • transient exertions by the swelling celebrity of his new competitor, he was never able to recover that leading and commanding station, which he had so long enjoyed undisputed ; but which, once outstripped by his more active successor, he had lost forever. Cicero had never indulged himself with an hour of relaxation. His only intermissions were from one stud}^ to another ; or from study to practice, and from practice to study. Nothing, that could promote his great purpose, was by him neglected, or overlooked. He labored all his compositions with anxious vigilance. He follow- ed up his practice at the bar with exemplary as- siduity. He introduced a new style and charac- ter into his discourses. His hearers fancied diemscives in a new world. Until then they had heard talk of eloquence. He made them feel the powers, of ^vhich they had only heard. His ora- tions commanded undivided admiration, because they soared far above the possibility of imitation by any of his cotemporaries. Not one of the public speakers in repute had any extent of at- tinnmcnt in literature, the inexhaustible fountain of eloquence ; nor in philosophy, the parent of moral refinement ; nor in the laws municipal or LECT. v.] RHETORICAL WRITINGS. 127 national, so indispensable to all solid eloquence at the bar ; nor in histoiy, which makes all the ex- perience of ancient days tributary to the wisdom of our own. They had neither the strength of logic, that key-stone to the arch of persuasion ; nor its subtlety to perplex, and disconcert an op- ponent. They knew neither how to ei^liven a discussion by strokes of wit and humor, nor how to interweave the merits of the question with the facts of the cause ; nor how to relieve tcdiousness by a seasonable and pertinent digression; nor finally to enlist the passions and feelings of their auditors on their side. Cicero does not tell us, that he himself pos- sessed all these qualities, in which the other barris- ters of his time were so deficient. He leaves the inference to those, who had heard, and those, who should read him. The critical examination of his judicial discourses is his unanswerable evidence oi the fact, and that evidence is happily still in our possession. This is that basis of adamant, upon which his reputation arose, while that of Horten- sius was crumbling into dust. Unfortunately for him another circumstance concurred to its deca} . He had addicted himself to the Asiatic style of oratory ; a style more suitable to the airy vivacity o^ 128 CICERO AND HIS [lECT. Vi youth, than to the grave and dignified energy of years and station. Hortensius wanted either the ability or the attention to vary his style in con- formity to the clianges in his situation ; and the same glitter, which had given him fame in youth, served but to expose liis age to censure and de- rision. Such is the parallel, which, long after the death of Hortensius, Cicero drew to exhibit the relation between himself and the most powerful oratorical competitor, with whom he ever had to contend. It is interesting, as it introduces so much of his own biography ; and useful, as it fur- nishes so striking a commentaiy upon the maxim, that indefatigable industry is as essential to the preservation, as to the attainment of eminence. The little dissertation de optimo genere ora- torum, of the best kind of orators, was only the preface to a translation, which Cicero made and published, of the two orations for the crown ; of Demosthenes and Eschines. The rigorous critics , at Rome had censured Cicero himself, as inclin- ing too much to the Asiatic style ; and the tribe of small writers, and talkers, and thinkers, whose glory consisted in finding something to blame in Cicero, armed with their watchword the Attic LECT. v.] RHETORICAL WRITINGS. 129 Style, delighted in cavilling at every excursion of fancy, and every splendid ornament, which the active and elegant mind of Cicero so profusely lavished in most of his orations. To give this censure greater weight, they drove the principles of their Atticism into its remotest boundai'iej, and affected to consider the plain, unseasoned simplicity of Lysias, as holding forth its most perfect model. By way of self-defence, Cicero published the master pieces of the two great rival Athenians, and in this preface directed the atten- tion of his countrymen to them, as to the genuine models of Atticism. And this he contends is marked, not by the unvarying use of the plain style, Vvhich becomes tiresome by its monotony and its barrenness, but by the alternate mixture and judicious application of the sublime and interme- diate with the simple style, of which the orations for the crown display the brightest example. The translation is lost. But this preface was in- cluded by himself in a general collection of his rhetorical works, and the two orations aie happily yet extant in their original language. The topics are a short essay upon a part of the oratorical art, much esteemed among the an- cients, but which in modem times have fallen 17 130 CICERO AND HIS [lECT. V* into great discredit. I shall upon some future occa- sion give you at large my own opinion concerning them, and endeavour to explain them to you in sucli a manner, as shall enable you to judge of them for yourselves. The ^^'^ork of Cicero is re- markable, as having been written in the hurry and bustle of a sea- voyage, ^vhcn the author had no access to the book of Aristotle, from which it is abstracted. It is addi'essed to Trebatius, a lawyer and familiar friend of Cicero, and to whom many of his most amusing letters in the collection of his epistles were written. The oratorical partitions are a short elemen- tary compendium, written in the form of a dia- logue between Cicero and his son ; in which, by way of question and answer, all the divisions and subdivisions of the rhetorical science are clearly and succinctly pointed out. It is altogether pre- ceptiA'c, barely containing the rules, without any illustration from example. It is a system of rhet- oric in the abstract. All the writings of Cicero, which I have hith- erto enumerated, were composed in the latter part of his life, when the vigor of his genius ^vas ma- tured by long and successful experience. There are two others, less valuable, but of which it i^ iECT. v.] RHETORICAL WRITINGS. 131 proper some notice should be taken. The one has come to us in an imperfect state. It was originally in four books, only two of which still remain. Their title would indicate, that they treated only of invention ; but their intent ^^•as to comprise a complete system of rhetoric. Tlie\- were however a mere juvenile exercise, compiled from the Greek rhetoricians for his own use ; and surreptitiously published at a later period of his life, when his name was sufficient to confer celeb- rity upon any thing. In his dialogues de oratore he mentions them himself, as a mere boyish study ; and complains of their publication with- out his consent. The other is a system of rhetoric in four books, addressed to Herinnius, published in all the general editions of Cicero's works, but in all probability not written by him. The internal evidence is at least very strong against its legiti- mate descent. It was ingeniously said among the Greeks, that it would be as easy to wrest the club from the hand of Hercules, as to pilfer a line from, Homer, without detection. By a like rea- son, you might as well put a distaff into the hand of Hercules, and call it his club, as call this a work of Cicero, because it is bound up with 132 CICERO AND HIS [^LECT. V, his works. Not that it is a despicable perform- ance. The language is pure ; the style not un- pleasant. As a compilation from Aristotle and Hermogenes, set forth in classical Latin, and with u \ ery good method, it may be perused widi prof- it. But the manner is dry and barren ; totally stripped oi Cicero's copious exuberance. Cornifi- cius, to whom it has generally been ascribed, or whoever was the author, appears rather in the form of a grammarian or logician, tliau of a rhet- orician. Never in a single instance does he rise to that of an orator. Comificius is always a precise, correct, cold schoolmaster ; Cicero never ceases to be the eloquent speaker. Cornifir cius chills you, as he instructs ; Cicero warms you, as he teaches. From Cornificius you may learn the theorj'- of rhetoric ; from Cicero you must learn by feeling the practice of the art. I cannot conclude this account of the rhetoric- al writings of Cicero, without once more urging upon your attention all the A\'orks, as w ell as the life and character of this extraordinary man. When you have dilated your understanding to the full conception of his merit, you will learn from his history the process, by which it was ac- C|uired» He lived ixt the most eventful period, LECT. v.] ItHETORICAL WHITINGS. 133 recorded in the aniials of the world, and contrib- uted more, than any other man, to its splendor. In a republic, \vhere it liad been observed, that the distinction of ranks was more strongly marked, than in any other nation under the sun, he rose, on the sole foundation of personal merit, against all the influence and ojiposition of the proudest of all aristocracies, not only to the high- est official honors and dignities, but to a distinc- tion, never attained by any other mortal man. To be proclaimed by the voice of Rome, " free Rome," the father of his country. Roma parentem, Roma pattern patriae Ciceronem, libera dixit. JUV. Vlll. Compared to this how mean and despicable were all the triumphs of Ceasar, " the world's great master and his own." How small, how diminu- tive is the ambition of that soul, which can be satisfied with a conquest of the world by fcrce, or with a mastery over itself so partial, as to be only a composition with crime, a half-way forbear- ance from the extreme of guilt, compared with the sublime purposes of that mind, which, not by the brutal and foul contest of arras, but bv the 134 CICERO AND HIS [lECT. V. soul-subduing poAver of eloquence and of virtue, conquers time, as well as space ; not the world of one short lived generation, but the world of a hundred centuries ; which masters, not only one nation of cotemporaries, but endless ages of civil- ized man, and undiscovered regions of the globe. These are the triumphs, which Ceasar, and men like Ceasai', never can obtain. They are reserved for more exalted conquerors. These are the palms of heroic peace. These are the everlast- ing laurels, destined for better uses, than to con- ceal the baldness of a Caesar, destined to be twin- ed, as a never fading wreath, around the temples of Cicero. As an orator, the concurring suffrage of two thousand years has given him a name above all other names, save only that of Demosthenes. As a rhetorician, we have seen, that he is unrivalled by the union of profound science with elegant taste ; by the extent, the compass, the variety of the views, in which he has exhibited the theory of his favorite art ; by that enchanting fascination, with which he allures the i^tudent into the deserted benches of the Grecian schools. His correspond- ence with Atticus and his other familiar friends contains the most authentic and interesting mate- LECT. v.] RHETORICAL WRITINGS. 135 rials for the history of his age. His letters intro- duce j^ou at once into his domestic intimacy, and to a familiar acquaintance with all the distinguished characters of an era, which seems to have spurned the usual boundaries of human existence, and des- tined in the memor}- of mankind to live forever. But those same letters are the most perfect models of epistolary style, that the world has ever seen ; and such is the variety of the subjects, they em- brace, that the student may find in them finished • examples of the most perfect manner, in which a letter can be written, from the complimentary card of introduction to the dispatch, which details the destinies of empires. His philosophical writings make us acquainted with the most celebrated speculations of antiquit}' upon those metaphysical topics, which, unless fix- ed by the everlasting pillars of divine revelation, will forever torture human reason, and elude hu- man ingenuity. On the nature of the gods, on the iDoundaries of good and evil, on those moral paradoxes, which Milton has represented, as con- stituting at once the punishment and the solace oi' the fallen angels in Pandemonium, Cicero enter- tains us in lively language, dignified by judicious rcflectionsj with all the eccentric ^'agaries of the 136 CICERO AND HIS [LECt. V* ancient philosophers, who, like those rebellious spirits, " Found no end in wandering mazes lost." But the most amiable and warmest coloring, jn which the character of Cicero presents itself to the eye of contemplation, is as a moralist. With what a tender and delicate sensibility has he de- lineated the pleasures and prescribed the duties of friendship ! With what a sootliing and benefi- cent hand has he extended the consolations of virtue to the declining enjoyments and waxing infirmities of old age ! With what all vivifying energy has he showered the sunshine of virtue upon the frosty winter of life ! His book of offices should be the manucl of every republican ; nay it should be the pocket and the pillow com- panion of every man, desiring to discipline his heart to the love and the practice of every virtue. There you will find the most perfect system of morals, ever promulgated before the glad tidings of Christianity. There you will find a valuable and congenial supplement, even to the sublime precepts of the gospel. It is not then to the students of eloquence alone, that the character and the writings of Cicero LECT. v.] RHETORICAL WRITINGS. 137 ought to be dear. He is the instructer of every profession ; the friend of every age. Make him the intimate of your youth, and you will find him the faithful and incorruptible companion of your whole life. In every variety of this mutable scene, you will find him a pleasing and instruct- ive associate. His numerous and inveterate ene- mies, while he lived, solaced the consciousness of their own inferiority, by sneering at his vanity, and deriding his excessive love of glory. Yes, he had that last infirmity of noble minds ! Yes, glory was the idol of his worship. His estima- tion of mankind over-rated the value of their applause. His estimation of himself is not liable to the same censure. His most exulting mo- ments of self-complacency never transcended, never equalled his real worth. He had none of that affected humility, none of that disqualifying hypocrisy, which makes virtue consist in con- cealment, and indulges unbomided vanity at the heart, on the single condition of imposing silence upon the lips. As he thought of himself, so he spake, and without hesitation claimed the appro- bation of the world for talents and virtues, w hich he \vould haA'c celebrated with ten-fold magnifi- cence of panegyric in others. To his cotempo- 18 138 CICERO &.C. [lect. v» raries let us admit, that the sense of his immeas- urable superiority was of itself sufficiently our- densomc, without the aggravation of hearing his encomium £iom himself. But to the modem detractors of his fame it may be justly replied, that his failings leaned to virtue's side ; that his heaviest vices might put to the blush their choic- est virtues. Of his own age and nation he was unquestionably the brightest ornament. But he is the philosopher, the orator, the moralist of all time, and of every region. A modern poet has beautifully said, that it is " Praise enough " To fill the ambition of a common man, " That Chatham's language was his mother tongue, " And Wolfe's great name compatriot with his own." But in contemplating a character, like this, we may joy in a more enlarged and juster application of the same sentiment. Let us malce this the standard of moral and intellectual worth, for all human kind ; and in the reply to all the severities of satire, and all the bitterness of misanthropy, repeat with conscious exultation, " we are of the same species of beings, as Cicero." LECTURE VI. INSTITUTES AND CHARACTER OF QUINCTILIAN. IN a former lecture, you may remember, lliat I noticed a remarkable difterence between the history of rhetoric in Greece and at Rome ; and observed, that in the former eloquence appeared to have been the twin-sister to history, while in the latter she api^ears to have been the child of the republic's old age, at first discarded, long banish- ed, but finally adopted, and rising to the most un- bounded influence in the person of Cicero. But the duration of the period, in which rhetoric AAas cultivated, is equally remarkable in Greece b}' its length, and in Rome by its shortness. Fn^m Pittheus to Longinus, the two extremes in the chronology of the Greek rlietoricians, you per-- 140 CHARACTER Of [lECT. VI. cei\'e a line of more tliaii thirteen hundred years, filled with a catalogue of writers, distinguished by their numbers, as well as by their ingenuity. At Rome we have seen die science began with Cice- ro. It ended with Quinctilian. These tAvo writers lived within one hundred }'ears of each other ; and in them alone are we to seek for all, that Roman literature can furnish to elucidate the science of rhetoric. Their WTitings may indeed, in point of real value, contend for the prize with the more copious stores of Greece ; and if a complete system were to be collected exclusively from the one or the other language, it would per- haps be difficult to say which would be most re- luctantly given up, the Grecian numbers, or the Roman weight. Of the Greek rhetoricians I have given you an account, a very lame and im- perfect one indeed, in a single lecture ; while the writings of Cicero alone, on this theme, have already occupied two ; and I now purpose to de- vote another to the institutes and the character of Quinctilian. It will however be proper previously to notice a collection of declamations, under the title of controversies and deliberations, different from tliose, which bear the name of Quinctilian, and LECT. VI.] q^UINCTILIAN. 141 published as the compilation of Seneca. Not of Seneca, the philosopher, the preceptor, the accom- plice, and the victim of Nero ; but another Sene- ca, generally supposed to be his father, and a native of Cordova in Spain. This collection was not of his own composition ; but collected from upwards of one hundred writers, and accompanied by the critical remarks of the editor. The practice of declamation among the an- cients was deemed of so much importance, it was so different from that exercise, bearing the same name, to which you are accustomed, it was at one period so useful in promoting the improve- ment, and at another so pernicious in hastening the corruption of eloquence, that it will be "proper to give you a short historical account of its rise, progress, and perversion. There has been some controversy, by whom it was first introduced ; nor is it of much impor- tance to ascertain whether its inventor were Gor- gias, the celebrated sophist, or Eschines, who, after his banishment from Athens, opened a school of oratory in tlie island of Rhodes, or Demetrius Phalereus, the last of the Attic orators. It is more generally agreed to ha^ e been introduced at Rome by Plotius, the first teacher of rhetoric in 142 CHARACTER or [lECT. VI. the Latin language ; and was practised constiuitl}', by most of the Roman orators, from the age of Cicero to that of Quinctilian. These declama- tions were composed and delivered by the same person ; wliich rendered them a much more la- borious, but at the same time a much more im- proving exercise, than that of repeating the com- positions of others. They were suited, by their gradations of difficulty, to the degrees of proficien- cy, which the student had attained. They began with short themes upon any topic, selected at pleasure, simiiai' to those, upon which you some- times exercise your ingenuity. From this the progress was to controverted questions, resem- bling M'hat we now call forensic disputes ; and finally a fictitious narrative or fable was invent- ed, to raise upon its events a moral, political, or legal question, .cither simple or complicated, for discussion. Thus you perceive, that what they called declamation rather resembled our per- formances at commencements and at the public exhibitions, than that repetition of the writings of others, to which our practice limits the original name. Its advantages were much greater, inas- much as it was an exercise of invention, as well as of delivery, and shai-j^ened the faculties of the LECT. VI.] QUINCTILIAN. 143 mind, while it gave ease and confidence to that mechanical operation, which Cicero lias called the eloquence of the body. Of the importance given to this exercise, during the splendid era of Roman oratory, you may form an opinion from the unquestionable fact, that it was practised by Cicero, not only while a student, before his appearance at the bar, but throughout his whole life. In the midst of that splendid and active career, when the fate of the Roman empire and of the world was at his control, he continued the custom of declaiming himself, and of assisting at tlie declamations of men, as far advanced in years, and as highly ex- alted in dignity ; such as Pompey and Piso ; Hirtius and Pansa ; Crassus and Dolabella. Nay, so essential was this discipline to ever\' public speaker of that age, that even Mark Anthony, the luxurious, the dissolute Mark Anthony, prepared himself, by constant declamation, to contend ag-ainst the divine philippics of his adversary ; and Augustus Caesar, during the war of Modena, in that final struggle for the dominion of the world, learned, by assiduous declamation, to achieve no- bler victories, than he could obtain by all tlic vet- eran legions of his father. A\''hen the revolution 144 CHARACTER OF [lECT. VI. in government liad destroyed tlie freedom of speech, the practice of declamation was still pur- sued, but underwent a corresponding change of character. Dignified thought, independent spirit, bold and commanding sentiment, then became only avenues to the scaffold. Declamation was still valued^ but soon changed its character. In- stead of leading the student to the art of persua- sion, it taught him the more useful lesson of con- cealment, the safer doctrine of disguise. . The themes of declamation were studiously stripped of every thing, that could bear a resemblance to reality. The most extravagant fictions were made the basis, and a dazzling affectation of wit the superstructure of their oratory. Hence it soon passed into a maxim, that pleasure, and not persuasion, was the ultimate purpose of elo- quence. " The author of a declaration," says Seneca, the person, of whom I am now speaking, " writes not to prove, but to please. He hunts up every thing, that can give pleasure. Argu- ments he discards, because they are toilsome, and disdain decoration. He is content to charm his audience with pointed sentences, and flights of fancy. He asks your favor, not for his cause, but for himself." Here you see the root of corrup- LECT. VI.] (^UINCTILIAN. 145 tion, plucked up and exposed. Instead of assim- ilating declamation to the realities, for which it was first taught, it was purposely and systematic- ally made to deviate from them as widely, as pos- sible. But this imnatural affectation could not fail to spread infection over the reality, and the frib- bling declaimer of the school became, in regular progression, the nerveless and ta\\dry talker in the senate, or at the bar. From this history you may infer a general opinion of the rate, at which the declamations of the rhetorician, Seneca, are to be estimated. They might perhaps have been more valuable, had they come down to us in a perfect state ; but mutilat- ed, as they are, and formed on such a defective foimdation, they can be of little use in the study of modern eloquence, and their intrinsic merit cannot entitle them to much attention. Those, which pass under the name of Quinctilian, are not much better, and are well known not to have been composed or even compiled by him. There exists also a dialogue of that age, on the causes of the corruption of eloquence, which has occasionally been ascribed both to Tacitus :md Quinctilian, and is usually published among the ^\orks of botli those writers. It contains an 19 146 CHARACTER OF [lECT. VI. ingenious parallel between eloquence and poetry, with a warm eulogium upon these sister arts ; a comparison between the celebrated orator's of that day, and their predecessors in the age of Horten- sius and Cicero. It concludes with an inquiry into the causes, whence the corruption of elo- quence, then so universally perceived, had pro- ceeded. The causes assigned deserve our par- ticular attention. The first is the general dissipa- tion, to which the youth of the age had abandon- ed themselves. For indolence and pleasure are more fatal to the luiderstanding, than to the con- stitution ; they clog the circulations of the soul still more, than they deaden the energies of the body ; and, by one simultaneous operation, emas- culate the physical, while they stupify the intellec- tual man. The next cause, and inseparably con- nected with it, is the neglect and carelesness of the parents, who were grossly heedless of the edu- cation of their children. In that universal degra- dation of taste and of morals, the very ties of na- ture were unstrung, and, as the sons had no sense of what was due to themselves, the fathers had lost all memory of their duties to their offspring. The ignorance of the rhetorical teachers, their preposterous methods of instruction, alternately tJECT. VI.] qUINCTILIAN. 147 both cause and effect of the degeneracy in the public tastie, that degraded taste itself, the im- patience of the judges, who, under that arbitrary government, abridged the freedom of speech, so essential to an orator, but above all the form of government since the extinction of the republic ; all these are justly enumerated, as the causes of that corruption, which a Quinctilian or a Tacitus could not but lament, but which it was not even in their genius and talents to heal. It is much to be regi^etted, that a considerable part .of this valua- ble treatise is lost. To rescue the art from this state of degrada- tion, Quinctilian did all, that human ability could accomplish. His institutes embrace the most comprehensive plan, formed by any of the ancient rhetoricians ; and the execution of the w^ork is in all respects worthy of the design. Like Seneca, he is said to have been a native of Spain ; and some have asserted, that he was the grandson of the Quinctilian, who collected the declamations. Twenty years of his life were passed at Rome, in the two-fold profession of a teacher of rhetoric and a practitioner at the bar ; in both of, which characters he is mentioned honorably b}' the epi- grammatist, Martial, in the following lines. 148 cHAioiCTER or [lect.vi. Quinctiliane, vagae moderator summe juventae, Gloria Romanac, Quinctiliane, togae ; Avhich, for the benefit of a less classical auditoiy than mine, might be thus translated. Sure, to the public speaker's fair renown, Henceforth, the wildest Roman youth may reach ; Since thy instructions, glory of the gown, At once by precept and example teach. During part of die time, that he exercised the rhetorical profession, he received a salary from the public treasury ; and he obtained from one of die Roman emperors the honors, if not die offi- cial dignity of the consulship. He was appointed to superintend the education of two grand children to the sister of the emperor Domitian ; and had two sons and a daughter, connected by marriage and adoption with some of the most illustrious fam- ilies in Rome. He is often noticed with distinc- tion by the satirist, Juvenal, who ascribes his wealth however rather to his good fortune, than to his talents, and who scourges, with a merciless hand, the proud and tasteless grandees of the age for their neglect of the rhetorician. After twenty years of this laborious occupation, Quinctilian was permitted to relinquish the employment, and en- LECT. VI.] qUINCTILIAN. 149 joy the fruits of his toils. But many of his friends, who had witnessed the happy effects of his system of instruction, intreated him to pub- lish, and leave it for the benefit of posterity. Two considerations finally prevailed upon him to com- ply with these requests. The excellency of his lectures had occasioned partial and incorrect copies of many of them to be surreptitiously taken by some of his schoiai's, and in that state of imperfec- tion they had been published to the world. He also thought, that in all the rhetorical works, then extant, there was a defect to be supplied. They were not sufficiently elementary. They presup- posed the knowledge of many things, essential to the formation of an orator ; and took up their pu- pils, as already initiated in all the preparatory learning. For the purpose therefore of vindicat- ing his own reputation, and of giving a complete system of rhetoric for the benefit of succeeding ages, he undertook the work, Avhich he divided in- to twelve books. It is addressed to Marcellus Victorius, one of his most intimate friends ; a man of elegant taste and literary accomplishments, who felt a more tlian common interest in the undertak- ing, as having a son of great promise, then in the course of his education. Quinctilian therefore 150 CHARACTER OF [lECT. VI. supposes, that he has a child to educate in the manner, best adapted to make him an accomphshed orator ; for which he takes him in the first years of infancy, yet Hsping from the arms of the nurse, and conducts him by fair degrees through every jireliminary study, and every appropriate branch of discipline, until he has attained the perfection of the art. He carries him through life ; suggests to him the various studies, occupations, and amusements, best suited to the purpose of his des- tination. Accompanies him through a long ca- reer of active eloquence ; follows him in the de- cline of life into honorable retirement, and teaches him how to render even that season of his exist- ence useful to others, and agreeable to himself. I had prepared an analysis of this work, as well as of some treatises of the Grecian rhetoricians, with the intention of presenting them, in one compre- hensive summary, to your view. But I have thought on reflection, that it would waste too much of your present time, and involve the con- sideration of some parts of the science, which re- quire a previous elucidation, to be clearly under- stood. I shall therefore at present only notice a few passages, which even now may furnish useful hints for your miditation and improvement. LEC T. VI.] (^UINCTILIAN. 151 The first book is altogether preparatory ; con- taining advice, relative to the selection of the child's earliest instructers ; a discussion of the comparative advantages and disadvantages of pub- lic schools, and of domestic tuition ; hints for as- certaining the natural dispositions and intellectual faculties of children ; gi'ammatical disquisitions, and miscellaneous observations upon reading, com- position, music, geometry, gesture, and pronuncia- tion ; all of which he considers, as preliminary acquisitions ; and which he thinks may be most advantageously learnt at the same time. In reply to the objection, that this system is too laborious, he says, with a warmth of eloquence, and a sound- ness of sense, which cannot too strongly be im- pressed upon our minds — The whole day neither can nor ought to be engrossed with learning grammar ; for the mind of the scholar should not be wearied into disgust. And how can we do better, than assign die inter- vals of leisure to these subsidiary studies of mu- sic and geometry ; taking care not to ovcrburthen him with any of them ? I do not undertake to form a musician by trade, nor a ver}^ minute pro- ficient in geometry. In teaching pronunciation, I am not training: an actor for the stas^e ; nor, in giving 152 CHARACTER Of i_LECT. VI. rules for gesture, do I propose to make a dancing master. Not that there is any lack of time. The years of youthful discipline are many ; and I do not suppose my pupil a dunce. What made Pla- to so eminent for possessing all the knowledge, which I suppose essential to an orator ? It was because, not content with all the learning of Ath- ens, he travelled into Italy for that of the Pytha- goreans ; and even into Eg}'pt to obtain access to the secret mysteries of her priests. Let us be honest. It is our own idleness, tliat we endea\'our to shelter under the mantle of difficulty. We have no real affection for the art. Wc court eloquence, not for her native, exquisite, and unrivalled beauties ; but as the instrument of sordid purpos- es, and of base and groveling gains. Let the vulgar orator of the forum hold forth his igno- rance for his fee. After all, the pcdler with his pack, and the town-crier by his voire will earn more money. For my part, I would not ^^'illingly have a reader, who should estimate his learning by his wages ; no, give me the man, who, in the sublime conceptions of an exalted mind, has figur- ed to himself an image of real eloquence, of that elo- quence, called by Euripides the queen of the world. He will never measure her rewards by his fcc-table. LECT. VI.] (^UINCTILIAN. 153 He will find them in his own soul ; in his own sci- ence ; m liis own meditations. Rewards beyond the reach of fortune, and perpetual in their nature. That man will easily prevail upon himself to be- stow upon geometry and music the time, which others waste upon theatres ; upon public sports ; upoffi gaming ; upon idle companions ; if not up- on sleep, or upon debauchery. And how much more delightfully will lie pass his time, than in those coarse and ignorant indulgences ! For it is one of the blessings of providence to mankind, that " the most honorable should also be the most exquisite enjoyments." These are the sentiments of Quinctilian. They are the only sentiments, which lead to greatness and to glory ; to social usefulness, and individual felicity. The introductory chapters to the fourth and sixth books are peculiarly interesting, as they re- late to important events in the life of the author. After completing the third, and before he had begun upon the fourth book, he had been appoint- ed to superintend the education of the two grand- sons of the emperor Domitian's sister. He ap- pears to have been too much elated by the honor of this appointment ; and, in the effusions of his gratitude or of his servilitv, prostitutes his elo- 20 154 CHARACTER OF [lECT. Vi. quence in strains of adulation to the emperor, which cannot wipe oft" a stain from the iniamy of Domitian, but which shed some portion of it upon his panegyrist. For the manners of the age, and the nature of tlie government, some allowance must be made ; and, if any thing could be wanting to complete our abhorrence of arbitrary power, it would be sufficient to behold a man of Quinctil- ian's genius and industry prostrate in the dust before a being, hkc Domitian. In the midst of this degradation, it is however some consolation to observe gleams of unquenchable virtue, still pierc- ing through the gloom. We rejoice to find him sensible, that the advancement of his dignity was a call upon him for redoubled industry and energy in the prosecution of his work. - If the introduction to the fourth book corripels us reluctantly to pass a censure upon our excellent instructer, that of the sixth exhibits him under the pressure of such cruel calamities, tliat the natural and pathetic eloquence, with which he laments his fate, will yet claim a generous tear from the eye of sensibility. When he began upon his great work, his condition was blessed with the possession of a young and amiable wife ; and of two promising sons. The ardor of his spirit had been inflamed LECT. VI.] q^tJINCTILIAN. 155 by the hope and the prospect, that his own chil- dren would participate in the benefit of liis toils ; and the fire of his genius blazed with brighter fer- vency for being kindled at the torch of parental affection. But during the progress of his labors, and before he had commenced upon the sixth book, all his actual enjoyments and all his flatter- ing prospects were blasted by the hand of death. " The shaft flew thrice ; and thrice his peacjs was slain." The feelings of a husband and a father alone can conceive the anguish, which inspires his com- plaints. They are the agonies of nature, when un- supported by tlie everlasting pillars of christian consolation. He breaks out into maledictions up- on his own writings, and curses upon his attach- ment to literature ; charges heaven with injustice ; denies an eternal superintending providence, and scorns his own weaki^iess for supporting the bur- den of his existence, while his own hand could re- lease him from its thraldom. When we compare these sentiments with that genuine doctrine of for- titude under the miseries of life, which the pre- cepts of the christian's faith inculcate, ^ve can- not but compassionate the unhappy sufferer; while wc feel with redoubled conviction tht;- 156 CHARACTER OF [lECT. v i. superiority of that philosoph}-, which teaches us to consider this world, as no more than a course of discipline to prepare for another ; and resignation as the only genuine heroism in misfortune. The soft overflowings of the father's heart succeed the bitterness of his execrations, and the copious enu- meration of trivial incidents, to display the opening virtues and fond attachments of his child, awakens a congenial sense in the reader, and toucliesthe fin- est fibres of sympathy. But finally, after paying the full tribute to sensibilit}-, the energy of Stoic virtue recovers her ascendency ; and we admire the resolution, with which he struggles against the rigor of his fate, and seeks consolation in the bo- som of literature. In the twelfth and concluding book Quinctil- ian discusses a variety of miscellaneous topics, all having relation to the oratorical profession. Here it is, that he maintains, in a long and elaborate chapter, a maxim, much dwelt upon by most of the ancient rhetoricians, and -which, if properly understood and qualified, is undoubtedly true ; but which a good intention has led him to assert in terms, and to defend by arguments, irreconcila- ble to truth and virtue. L£CT. VI,] qUINCTILIAX. 157 To form the perfect ideal orator, that model of a fair imagination, to the imitation of which every public speaker should constantly aspire, honest}', or virtuous principle, is the first and most essential ingredient. None but a good man there- fore can ever be such an orator; and incorruptible integrity is tlie most powerful of all the engines of persuasion. But if by an orator is meant only a man, pos- sessed of the talent of public speaking to such an extent, as has ever been witnessed in the e:spc- rience of mankind ; if it be meant, that no nian can be eloquent without being virtuous, the asser.- tion is alike contradicted by the general constitu- tion of human nature, and by the whole tenor of human experience. Bad men may be, many a bad man has been eminently gifted with oratory- ; and the dignity of virtue disdains a recommenda- tion of herself at the expense of ti'uth. The arguments of Quinctilian, in support of his favorite position, are not all worthy of his cause. They do not glow with that open, honest elo- quence, which they seem to recommend ; but sometimes resemble the quibbling of a pettifogger, and sometimes the fraudulent morality of a Jesuit. " A had man," says he, " not only by the judg- 158 CHARACTER OP [lECT. VI, ment of philosophers, but oftentimes even by the vulgar, is thought a fool. Now a fool can never be an orator." If this reasoning: is onlv ridicu- lous, that, which follows, is something worse. An orator, says he, must be an honest man to enable him, whenever it may be necessary for the success of his cause, to impose upon the minds of his au- ditors falsehood for truth. And then follows a philosophical disquisition of the occasions, when an honest man may lie, for the good of his client. Perhaps in this last argument we may discover the real nature, as well as the origin of Quinctilian's principle. He insists, that his orator must be an honest man. " But he allows his honest man to equivocate, and lie, and abuse the confidence, ac- quired by honesty, to promote the success of fraud. Where the standard of virtue is so low, it can need little labor to keep on its level. His principle is that of sir Hudibras. For if the devil, to serve his turn, Can tell truth ; why the saints should scorn. When it serves theirs, to swear, and lie, I think there's little reason why. No ; providence has not thought fit so to consti- tute the race of man, as to bind in irrefragable chains the virtues of the heart with the faculties of LECT. VI. ]] qUINCTILIAN. 159 the mind. Nor, could we realize this dream of fancy, would it improve the moral government of the world. Virtue is an injunction of positive duty, of which heaven has at once made the com- mand and the power of fulfilment universal ; leav- ing the execution to individual will. But the dis- tribution of intellectual powers is partial, and graduated with infinite variety. To be honest is the duty and in the po^er of us all. To be elo- quent can only be the privilege of a few. Hard indeed would be the condition of men, if honesty were to wander in all the eccentricities of genius, or to be a sport to the caprices of fortune. Let us then all be honest ; for honesty is wisdom ; is pleasantness ; is peace. If the indulgence of nature and the vigils of )our outi industry have endowed you with the favors of eloquence, re- member, that all your moral duties are muhiplied in proportion to your powers ; that to ^\•hom much is given, of him shall much be required. But in the course of your pilgrimage through this world of trial and of temptation, if 30U should occasion- ally meet with a man, blessed with all the power of words, do not too hastily conclude, that his moral worth must be of equal preeminence with his mental faculties. Reserve the treasure of 160 . CHAIiAClEU Sec. [l£CT. VI. your conlidencc for the silent orator}- of virtuous deeds. We have now completed our survey of the char- iietcr and writings of the principal rhetoricians of iuitiquity. It has been extremely superficial ; yet has it consumed no inconsiderable portion of our time. I shall next ask your attention, in passing from the history of the science to the considera- tion of the science itself. LECTURE VIL CONSTITUENT BRANCHES OF RHETORIC. IN the systematic pursuit of science, one of the most important points is a steady attention to order and arrangement. No just survey of any complicated whole can be taken, without keeping a watchful eye both upon the division and upon the combination of its parts. It is the essential advantage of scientific over desultory knowledge, that it discovers to us the various channels and communications between things, which are sepa- rated without being severed, and disjoined, but not disconnected. In the construction of the human body, the unlearned observer can scarcely conceive the possibility, that a puncture in the heel should stiffen the jaw, or that a blister hr 21 162 COXSTITUENT BRANCHES [lECT. VII. tweeu the shoulders should remove an oppression upon the lungs. The anatomist examines the in- ternal fabric, and discovers at once the texture and the coherence of the parts ; but, to perceive their mutual influence and operation upon one another, every fibre must be noticed, not only in its posi- tive existence, but in its relative situation ; as the cooperating parcel of an organized body, no less than as one distinct, entire, and individual mem- ber. The lectures, which I have hitherto given,, from the beginning of the course have been rath- er preliminary, than didactic. They consisted, first of a definition and division of the subjects, upon which, by the rules of the institution, I am required to address you. Next of a vindication of rhetoric and oratory from the objections, which are often urged against them ; and lastly of a short historical review of the principal rhetoricians of ancient Greece and Rome. These were natu- rally prepai'atory to a consideration of the sci- ence of rhetoric, upon which we are now about to enter ; and which, in conformity to the iiuthori- ty of Cicero and Quinctilian, I shall divide into five constituent parts ; invention, disposition, elo- cution, memory, and pronunciation, or action. LECT. VII.] OF RHETOP.IC. 163 A concise aiid general definition of these terms is contained in the following passage from Cicero. " The parts of rhetoric, as most writers have agreed, are invention, disposition, elocution, memory, pronunciation. " Invention is tlie disco veiy by thought of those things, the truth, or verisimiUtude of which ren- ders the cause probable. " Disposition is the orderly arrangement of the things invented. *■' Elocution is the application of proper words and sentences to invention. " Memory is the firm perception by the mind of the things and words, applied to inven- tion. And *' Pronunciation is the management of the voice and body, conformably to the dignity of the words and things. This explanation however is hardly sufficient to convey clear and precise ideas either of the terms themselves, or of the motives for distiibut- ing the whole science among them. There is one important observation, which it will be necessaiy for you to bear in mind through every part of these lectures, and which is essential for the clear understanding of those terms, which 164 CONSTITUENT BRANCHES [lECT.VII. designate the great compartments of the rhetoric- al science. It is, that in every systematic art there are certain words, wliich bear a specific technical meaning, very different from that, which is annexed to them in ordinary discourse. A continual attention to this remark becomes the more necessary, when, as in the insUmccs now before us, there are other sciences, in which the same terms are used to indicate a very different modification of ideas, or when the colloquial or vulgar meaning of the word has become preva- lent, by a misconception of its technical sense, or a considerable deviation from it. To illusti'ate this, trace the word invention to its original source, and compare its primary mean- ing with the various senses, which it bears in the art of poetry, in mechanics, in ordinary conversa- tion, and in rhetoric. It was originally compounded from the two Latin words, in venire, to come in, to enter. By the natural progress of all languages from the lite- ral to tlie metaphorical meaning, it came in pro- cess of time to signify discovery; invenire, to find; inventio, finding. Such is the ordinary meaning of the words in the Latin language. But, in undergoing this transformation of the sense, LECT. VII.J OF RHETORIC. 165 tlie verb was at the same time transferred from the neutral to the active class. In its primaiy meaning the coming in was the action of the external object ; and, as applied to thought, sup- posed the idea active and the mind passive ; the thought came into the mind. But, in its trans- muted sense, the. action was cliangcd from the idea to the person ; and in^enirc, to find, implied not the coming of the thought into the mind, but the going of the mind in search of tJie thought. This is the sense, in which rhetorical invention is understood. But invention, when applied, as by its most frequent usage it is in ordinary discourse, to the mechanic arts, supposes still greater activi- ty of the mind. It means a higher degree of in- genuity ; a more powerful exertion of intellect. In the language of Solomon it is in this sense de- clared to be the immediate operation of wisdom herself. " I, wisdom, dwell with prudence, and find out knowledge of witty inventions."* But in the language of poetry invention as- pires still higher, and lays claim not merely to the praise of finding, but to the glory of creating. Poetical invention disdains die boundaries of space and time. She ranges over worlds of her * Prov, VIII. 12. 166 CONSIITUENT BRANCHES [lECT. VH. own making, and takes little heed of being found out by wisdom, or of dwelling with prudence. Her powers are delineated in that exquisite pas» sage of Shakspeare, ^vhich }'0u liave all heard a thousand times, but which no repetition can make uninteresting. The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven ; And, as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name. This is poetical invention, described with more than poetical truth. For observe, gentle- men, that in bodying forth the forms of things un- known, in giving to airy nothing what it cannot have, the poet^s eye must be rolling in a fine frenzy ; his mind must be released from all the restraints of truth and reason, and his imagination emancipated from all the laws of real and even of probable nature. But from this rhetorical inven- tion differs in her most essential characteristics. Truth, or at least the resemblance of truth, as you will perceive by the definition I have quoted from. LECT. VII. 3 OF RHETORIC. 167 Cicero, is her most indispensable feature. Not that in the practice of orators she has always been thus rigorously confined ; for, among the choicest darlings of eloquence, both ancient and modern, it would not be difficult to quote examples, in which they appear to have mistaken poetical for rhetorical invention, and to have measured the extent of their faculties by the wideness of their departure from truth. But this is no part of the science of rhetoric. Her end is persuasion ; and her most irresistible instrument is truth. Poet- ical invention is the queen of love ; aiTayed in the magic cestus, and escorted by the graces ; mingling in every gesture dissolute wantonness with enchanting attraction, and blending in every glance fascination and falsehood. Rhetorical in- vention is Minerva, issuing in celestial panoplv from the head of Jupiter ; beneficent as the morn- ing beam, but chaste as tlie flake of falling snow ; with the glow of beauty enkindJing ardor ; but with the majesty of deportment commanding ven- eration. Rhetorical invention however has this in common with the invention of poetr}% that it is the most powerful test, both of the speaker's ge- nius and of his learning. Though confined with- in the regions of truth or of verisimilitude, the 168 CONSTITUENT BRANCHES [lECT. VII. range of invention is yet coextensive Avith the ora- tor's powers. It consists in the faculty of finding whatsoever is proper to be said, and adapted to the purpose of his discourse ; of selecting from the whole mass of ideas, conceived or stored in his mind, those, which can most effectually pro- mote the object of his speech ; of gathering from the whole domain of real or apparent truth their inexhaustible subsidies, to secure the triumph of persuasion. Disposition is the order, or method, in which the thoughts of the speaker should be arranged. As invention is the standard, by which to meas- ure his genius and learning, disposition is more especially the trial of his skill. The thoughts in the mind of an orator upon any subject, requiring copious elucidation, arise at first in a state, resem- bling that of chaos ; a mingled mass of elemental matter without form and void. Disposition is the art of selecting, disposing, and combining them in such order and succession, as shall make them most subservient to his design. This faculty, though not of so high an order as invention, is equally important, and nmcli more uncommon. You shall find hundreds of persons able to pro- duce a crowd of good ideas upon any subject, for LECT. VII.] Of RHETORIC. 169 one, that can marshall them to the best advantage. Disposition is to the orator what tactics, or the discipUne of armies is to tiie miUtary art. And as the balance of victory has almost ahvays been turned by the 'superiority of tactics and of disci- phne, so the great effects of eloquence ai'e always produced by the excellency of disposition. There is no part of the science, in which the consummate orator will be so decidedly marked out, as by the perfection of his disposition. It will deserve your particular meditation ; for its principles are applicable to almost ever)' species of literary com- position ; and arc by no means confined exclusive- ly to oratory. It is that department in the art of writing, in which a young writer most sensibly feels his, weakness ; and I venture a conjecture, that it is a difficulty, to which many of you, my young friends, are no strangers. When called to write upon any topic, assigned you, I presume you have often been much more at a loss how to combine and arrange your thoughts, than for the thoughts themselves ; and often wanted more the disposing hand of art, than the genial fertility of nature. Elocution, says the definition of Cicijro, " is the application of proper words and sentences to invention." And here also vou will perceive 22 170 CONSTITUENT BRANCHES [lECT. VII. the necessity of distinguishing the meaning of the term from its ordinary acceptiition, as now gener- ally understood. Elocution, in the customary modem sense, means the act of speaking ; the de- livery. The very thing, wliich, in the division I have here made of rhetoric, is called pronuncia- tion, or action. In this sense it is used by Sheri- dan and Walker, the best modem English writers and teachers upon the subject. In this sense it so generally prevails, that I presume many of you are not aware, that among all the ancient rhetori- cians it means a thing entirely different. It means what we now call style, or diction j the wording of the discourse. I intreat you to mark and remember this distinction, without which eve- ly thing, which I shall hereafter say to you upon elocution, will appear absurd or unintelligible. The elocution, of which I shall speak to you, be- longs not to the delivery, but to the composition of the discourse. It is the act, not of the voice, but of the pen. It is the clothing of the thoughts with language ; and applies to all written composi- tions. So that the elocution may be good or bad, of a discourse, which never was spoken, as much as of one, that was. Now the other sense of the word, which makes elocution to consist in speak- LECT. VII.] OF RHETORIC. 171 ing, is so much more familar to you, that I have hesitated, whether I ought in these lectures to use the word in the ancient sense. But, as those of you, to whom the science has a pecuhar interest, will naturally recur to the ancient fountains ; as yon never can understand Cicero and Quinctilian without first knowing, that they always annex to the word this signification ; and as the rules of this institution prescribe the consideration of this sub- ject under that meaning ; I have thought best not to discard it, but to explain to you so explicitly the sense, in which I am to employ the expres- sion, that you may be in no hazard of mistaking it for any other. Elocution then is the act ol* committing your discourse to WTiting. Memory is the firm possession and ready command in the mind of the thoughts, arrange- ment, and words, into which the discourse has been reduced. Pronunciation is the delivery of the discourse by speech. It is also called action ; and, as I have already observed, is the same thing, which, in or- dinary acceptation, and by the modern English oratorical writers, is called elocution. But both these words, pronunciation and action, furnish fresh instances of the utility you will deriA'e from 172 CONSTITUENT BRANCHES [lECT. VII. fixing in your minclb, willi philosophical precision, the meaning of these important terms, which limit the great divisions of the science. Pronunciation for instance you 'would probably suppose to indi- cate only the utterance of a single word. Action you would imagine could only be expressive of the speaker's gestures. Yet this is not the sense, in which either of these words is to be understood in their application here. Here, and among all the ancient rhetoricians and orators, pronunciation and action are used indiscriminately to signify that, which consists of their combination ; that is, delivery. You will now be able to understand the real force of an anecdote, which has often been related of Demosthenes, and which a misconception of the meaning of one of those words has often occasion- ed to be erroneously apprehended. It is said, that, upon being once asked what was the first qualification of an orator ; he answered action. What was the second ; action. What was the third ; still action. How many blundering com- ments, and how many sagacious misapplications have been made upon this story, on the supposi- tion, that Demosthenes, by action, merely meant gesture ; bodily motion ! How many a semi-pe- LECT. VII.] OF RHETORIC. 173 dant, knowing just enough to be self-sufficient, has, in the plenitude of his wisdom, discoAxred bv this anecdote, that Demosthenes and the Athe- nians knew little or nothing of real eloquence ! How many a petty babbler, engrafting upon a kinder veneration of the Grecian orator the same misconstruction of his words, has made it an arti- cle of his creed, that eloquence consists in gestic. ulation ; and, adapting his conduct to his belief, practised the antic postures of an harlequin, and fancied himself a Demosthenes ! I have known even eloquent scholars and accomplished speakers perplexed to account for this opinion of the gi-eat- est of orators, and questioning the truth of tlic stoiy, merely from the same inaccurate idea of his meaning. His meaning was, that the first, the second, and the third thing, to which a public speaker should attend, is his delivery; and al- though from a variety of circumstances the rclati\'e importance of this article was greater in that age, than in ours ; yet even now those, who have wit- nessed in its full extent the difference of effect upon an auditory between a good and a bad deliv- cry, will be at no loss to account for the opinion of Demostlicnes, and see no cause to question his judgment. 174 CONSTITUENT BRANCHES [lECT. VII. Such then iire the primary divisions, under which I am to treat of the science of rhetoric ; and the order, in wliich I have mentioned them, is that, pointed out by the natural succession of things, in their appHcation to the art of oratory. For suppose yourself called upon to speak in pub- lic upon some formal occasion, be it what it may ; your first concern will be, what you are to say ; what the reflections of your mind can suggest to you, suitable to your subject. This first concep- tion of the thoughts will exercise your invention. Invention therefore is the first chapter in the book of rhetoric. Your next step will be to arrange the thoughts, which your invention has supplied ; and this will be disposition. Then you will success- ively put into language, commit to memory, and pronounce, your discousc, which, it were super- fluous to say, must be done in some order, by the means of elocution, memory, and pronunciation ; and thus this division comprehends every thing, that can be included in the composition and deliv- ery of an oratorical speech. But divisions like these are always in some sort arbitrary. Rigor- ously speaking, memory and pronunciation might with more propriety be considered, as subdivisions of elocution, than as constituting separate heads. LECT. VII.] OF RHETORIC. 175 An oratorical discourse may be written without being spoken ; in which case pronunciation would not be included in the work. It may be spoken ^vithout being written ; for it may be extempora- neous, or it may be read ; the first of which is very common in legislative debates, and on ju- dicial trials ; and the last for the delivery of ser- mons and of lectures. Invention, disposition, and elocution, therefore are essential and indispensable to every oratorical performance. Memory and pronunciation are applicable only to some. The divisions of Aristotle then, who admits only in- vention, elocution, and disposition, are more con- formable to the true principles of analysis, than those of Cicero and Quinctilian ; nor is it proba- ble, that any deviation from it would have been made, but for that petty ambition of the minor rhetoricians to distinguish themselves, each by some novelty of his own ; an ambition, which sac- rifices science to selfishness, and multiplies the difficulties of the student, to gratify the vanity of the author. To show you how exact the arrangement of Aristotle is, you will find on opening the bible, that it corresponds precisely with the process of the Creator in making tlie world. " In the begin- 176 CONSTITUENT BRANCHES [lECT. VII. iiing God created the heaven and the earth ; and the earth was without form and void." Inven- tion. " And God said, let there be light." Elo- cution. " And God divided the light from the dark- ness ; and God called the light da}-, and the dark- ness he called night." Disposition. Thus in the creation of the universe the same identical process is indicated, which Aris- totle prescribes for the composition of a dis- course. The power of positive creation belongs in- deed exclusively to the supreme Creator ; where he creates, maii can only find. But he is the foun- tain of all intelligence ; and the highest excellence of understanding consists in the imitation, as far as the imperfection of human powers will permit, of his general, unvarying laws. The analytical divis- ions of Aristotle in this, as in all other instances, were formed on a profound investigation of the laws of nature ; but as the later rhetoricians have converted memory and pronunciation into prima- ry branches of the science, and as at all events they must be discussed v/ith all the attention, which their importance requires, I have included them among the principal divisions of the subject, and LECT. VII. 3 OF RHETORIC. 177 shall treat of them separately from the others, and combined with them to complete the system. Invention then is the discovery, by thought, of the things best adapted to obtain the purpose of the speaker ; and one of the objects of the rhetori- cian is to indicate to the practical orator the means of sharpening this facultyj and of facilitating its exercise. To this end Aristotle appears to ha\'e been the first inventor of the principal subdivision under this article ; and the test of his distinction was drawn from the nature of the purposes, to which the oratorical discourses of that age were applied. He considered, that all public speaking had an object of reference either to past, present, or future time ; and with a view to something to be done or omitted. That all such questions must necessarily be subjects of deliberation ; and he ac- cordingly called them deliberative discourses. That those, which referred to time past, consisted of controversies in the courts of law, respecting rights previously existing, or wrongs previously committed. This kind of public speaking he therefore denominated judicial eloquence. That the third division consisted of all such speeches, as, having no reference either to deliberation for the future, or to adjudication upon die past, were en- 23 178 CONSTITUENT BRANCHES [lECT. VII. grossed by the present moment ; and were usual- ly adapted more to exhibition, than to business ; rather to show, than to action. These therefore he called by a term indicative of show, and which, as translated by the Latin rhetorical \VTiters and their successors, are called demonstrative orations. This division has been universally adopted until very modern times; and is even prescribed in the rules and statutes of the Boylston professorship, as still to be recognized in this course of public lec- tures. Nor was this regulation injudicious. For, although the ancient classification in this case does not include all the modes of speaking, usual in modern times; yet it is of material importance, that you should know what that ancient classifica- tion was. It is essential to the understanding not only of all the ancient systems of rhetoric, but of many of the most celebrated orations. The rules, derived from these distributions, direct the special character, which marks all the diversities of Cice- ro's eloquence ; and one of the first questions, which the profound student of his orations should ascertain, is, to which of the three kinds, the de- liberative, the demonstrative, or the judicial orato- ry, each of the orations belongs. LECT. VII.] OF RHETORIC. 179 The modem arrangement, adopted by the French rhetoricians, and after them by Blair, is in- to the eloquence of the pulpit, of popular assem- blies, and of the bar. And this I suppose to be the division, with which you are most familiarly acquainted. There is one great advantage in it, arising from the circumstance, that two of the three depaitments are identically the same with those, established by the ancients; the eloquence of popu- lar assemblies being but another word for delibera- tive, and the eloquence of the bar, for judicial ora- tory. The third modern division substitutes the eloquence of the pulpit, which to the ancients was altogether unknown, instead of their demonstrative oratory ; but, in excluding this latter denomination altogether, they have left a numerous and in our country an important class of public discourses entirely destitute of a name. In the British domin- ions perhaps there may have been a propriety in omitting this kind of discourses, because they are not much in use among them. But we have re- sumed in these United States that particular style of speaking, which was so customary among the Greeks and Romans, but which in the island of Great Britain seems to be almost entirely unprac- tised. On the aimiversary of our independence 180 CONSTITUENT BllANClIES [lECT. VII. every city and almost every village of this Union resounds with formal discourses, stcfctly belonging to the demonstrative class of the ancients. There are many other occasions public and private, upon which we are accustomed to assemble in churches, and hear orations of the demonstrative kind. Many of the performances at all our public com- mencements are of the same description. Fune- ral orations, as distinct from funeral sermons, are very common amoiig us ; and in general the pub- lic taste for this species of public oratory is a dis- tinguishing feature in our character. Yet the stu- dents, who collect their rules of rhetoric only from Blair, have no knowledge of the critical prin- ciples, upon which demonstrative orations ought to be composed. The proper style of eloquence, adapted to them, is therefore little understood, and, as far as my experience has observed, less practised. The great purposes of public benefit, to which these orations might and ought to be ap- plied, that of stimulating genius, patriotism, and beneficence, by honorable eulogy ; and that of teaching useful lessons of national virtue, by the honest artifices of eloquence, seldom discover themselves in those discourses, however deeply they may be impressed upon the speaker's mind. LECT. VII.] or EHETORIC. 18] We must therefore reinstate demonstrative oratory ill the place, from which Doctor Blair has degrad- ed it ; and for the eloquence of the pulpit must as- sign a separate and very distinguished place bv itself. There is also another mode of public speaking, which has arisen from modern usages and man- ners, of which nothing could be said in the ancient rhetoricians, and which has been generally over- looked by the moderns. It may be termed the eloquence of the bench ; and consists in the charg- es of magistrates to grand-juries, their addresses to petit-jurors, on summing up causes, and the assignment of reasons, which they often gi\-c for their decisions. It may be deemed perhaps onh- one modification of judicial eloquence, but its prop- er principles are altogether different from those, on which the oratory of the bar is founded ; aiid, like that of the sacred desk, partake of all the ancient kinds, the deliberative, the judicial, and tlie de- monstrative. In adhereing therefore to these ancient distinc- tions, we are in no danger of wasting our hours up- on the acquisition of any useless knowledge. Eve- ry one of the tliree ancient kinds of public speaking is in frequent and common use among us ; and 182 CONSTITUENT BRANCHES. [lECT. VII. every precept, which ever could be useful in the exercise of cw^tory, remains useful in its utmost extent here. The eloquence of the divine and of the magistrate partakes of them all ; and occasion- ally requires the arguments, appropriated to each of them separately. It has also suggested some ad- ditional principles, which we shall consider at the proper tirae. I shall now conclude with remind- ing 5'ou, that in this lecture you have the outline of all, that the whole course will comprize. That under the successive articles of invention, disposi- tion, elocution, memory, and pronunciation, what- ever I have to say upon the science of rhetoric will be included ; and that the primary division of or- atory, drawn from the different ultimate purposes of the speaker, is into discourses demonstrative, deliberative, judicial, and religious. LECTURE VIII. STATE OF THE CONTROVERSY. IN my last lecture I informed you, that the whole science of rhetoric was divided into five constituent parts ; invention, disposition, elocution^ memory, and pronunciation or action. All which terms I endeavoured to explain in such a manner, that your ideas of their import might be clear and precise. Proceeding then to the consideration of the facilities, which it is the object of the science to furnish the orator's invention, I indicated the tliree great classes, into which all oratorical per- formances were divided by the ancient rhetori- cians, and by them denominated the demonstrative, the deliberative, and the judicial. It will noAV be proper to say something more, with a view to ex- 184 STATE or THE [lECT. VIII. liibit tilt; reiisons for this division. la undertak- ing to reduce the most important principles of eloquence to a system of rules, it was obvious that there were certain points, tlie observance of which applied equally to every occasion, upon which a man should speak in public ; and certain others, which could operate only Avhen the object of the speaker was directed to some specific pur- pose. The scenes, upon \vhich orators were ac- customed to exercise their talents, were different. In the popular assemblies, general or particular, the subjects discussed were concerning laws to be enacted, taxes to be levied, distributions of the public force and revenue to be made, accounts to be settled, and all other things of a similar nature. Deliberation upon something to be done was the common character of all such meetings ; and the whole drift of the orator in such debates must be to persuade his hearers, that the measure in ques- tion is useful, or the contrary. Before the public tribunals, where the litigation of conflict- ing rights was conducted, the question must ne- cessarily concern some action past ; and the com- mon standard, to which the orator must exert himself to bring the cause, which he supported, was justice. But orations, written before-hand, LECT. VIII.] CONTROVERSY. 185 for delivery on some public solemnity, whether in honor of individuals, of communities, or of events, neitlier having nor intended to have any direct bearing upon the will of other men ; neither des- tined to influence deliberation of the future, nor de- cision upon the past ; die luxury, not the necessi- ty of social intercourse ; the pride, pomp, and cir- cumstance, not the broils and battle of oratoric- al warfare ; these, from their showy character, were called demonstrative discourses; and honor was the subject of their story. It will be obvious to you that, in regard to die character of the composition, arrangement, and delivery, there must be a great difference in the style and manner, suited to these several theatres of eloquence. That the same mode of proceeding, which would be proper for an anniversary oration, would be ridicu- lous upon an argimient at the bar ; and that nei- ther would befit a debate upon the passage of u law in the legislature. There are some of you, who, in the course of a very few years, may be call- ed to exhibit your talents on each of these differ ent stages ; and you will then be fully sensible of the advantage there is in forming, durmg the pro- cess of early education, a distinct idea of the style of eloquence, adapted to each. 24 186 STATE OF THE [lECT. VIII. A legislature then deliberates whether a law shall be past ; a court of justice decides whedier a wrong, public or private, has been committed ; and a holiday audience is delighted or wearied, in- structed or disgusted. I shall in future treat of the arguments, peculiarly proper for each of these occasions, separately; but I am first to notice essential particulars, belonging to them all. The first and most important of these is what the ancient rhetoricians term the state of the con- troversy. The passages in the treatises of Cicero and Quinctilian, relating to this subject, are some of the most tedious and unprofitable parts of their works, because they have continual reference to the institutions and forms of proceeding, prevalent in their times ; which were very different from tliose, to M hich we are accustomed. Some of the translators, and even some editors of Quinctilian, with a freedom highly to be censured, have struck out almost the whole of his chapter on this article. Yet a full and clear understanding of it, properly applied to the usages and manners of our own times, is one of die most important points in the whole science. The state of a controversy, or, as it is often- times denominated, the state of the cause, and yet LECT. VIII.] CONTROVERSY. 187 more frequently by the single word, the state, has probably suggested to your minds either a con- fused and indistinct idea, or an idea very differ- ent from that, which it imports. When I speak of the state of a controversy, you would naturally conclude, that there must be a controversy or dis- puted point to be settled, and that its state meant its situation in point of time ; indicating the pro- gress, made by the parties, and discovering the ground still to be gone over. Such, in the ordi- nary signification of the words, would be the idea, which the state of the controversy would convey. The state of the controversy among rhetoricians means quite another thing. It is the quod erat demonstrandum of the mathematicians. It is the mark, at which all the speaker's discourse aims ; the focus, towards which all the rays of his elo- quence should converge ; and of course varies according to the nature and subject of the speech. In every public oration the speaker ought to have some specific point, to which, as to the goal of his career, all his discourse should be directed. In legislative or deliberative assemblies this is now usually called the question. In the courts of common law it is known by the name of the is- sue. In polemical writings it is sometimes called 188 STATE OF THE [lECT. VIII. the point. In denicn^strative discourses it is dilat- ed into the general name of the subject ; and in the pulpit the proper state is always contained in the preacher's text. It belongs therefore to every class of public speaking, and is not confined to ju- dicial or deliberative oratory, where alone you would at first blush suppose the term controversy could properly be applied. It is indeed probable, that it first originated in judicial contests, where it always remained of most frequent use. Totlie other classes it was transferred by analogy. Who- ever speaks in public must have something to prove or to illustrate. Whatever the occaion or the subject may be, the purpose of the orator must be to convince, or to move. Every speech is thus supposed to be founded upon some controversy, actual or implied. Conviction is the great pur- pose of eloquence, and this necessarily presuppos- es some resistance of feeling or of intellect, upon Avhich conviction is to operate. I told you that the state of the controversy was one of the most important points of consideration in the whole science of rhetoric. As I have ex- plained it to you in its broadest acceptation, it is to the orator what the polar star is to the mariner. It is the end, to which every word he utters ought L£CT. VIII. J CONTROVERSY. 189 clirectl)^ or indirectly to be aimed ; and the whole art of speech consists in the perfect understanding of this end, and the just adaptation of means to ef- fect its accomplishment. This may perhaps appear to you to be so obvious and so trivial a truth, as to require no illustration. And yet you will find throughout your lives, in the courts of law, in the legislature, in the pulpit, nodiing is so common, as to see it forgotten. Our laws have found it ne- cessary to provide, that in town-meetings nothing shall be acted upon by the inhabitants, unless the subject, or state of the controversy, has been in- serted in the warrant, which calls them together. In all our legislative bodies rules of order are es- tablished for the purpose of confining the speak- ers to the subject before them ; and certain forms even of phraseology are adopted, into which every question must be reduced. Yet even this is not sufficient to restrain tlie wandering propensities of debate. There is a formal rule in the British house of commons, that " no member shall speak impertinently, or beside the question." A rule, which I believe none of the legislative assemblies in'our country has thought proper to adopt ; and A\ hoc\cr has been present at a debate in the parlia- ment of Great Britain has perceived at least with 190 STATE OF THE [lECT. VIII. as strong demonstration the inefficacy, as the ne- cessity of such a regulation. In the courts of law so essential and so difficult is it to bring parties or their counsel to a point in litigation, that no cause can be given to a jury, or come to the judges for decision, by the practice of the common law, until the written pleadings have brought the case to an issue, and until that issue has been joined. Now this issue, in judicial trials, as I have already ob- served to you, is what the ancient lawyers and rhet- oricians denominated the state of the controversy. But so loose and so various are the acceptations, in which terms of science are often received in their popular usage, that I find it necessary to ex- plain to you the real meaning even of these two words, issue and pleadings ; one of which is liable to be misunderstood by a very vulgar, though not uncommon misapplication ; and the other, because in common discourse it is used to signify a differ- ent idea. I have heard a divine in the pulpit say, that we might join issue in such or such a remark of some celebrated writer ; meaning that we might assent to the remark, and agree with the writer. But to join issue does not mean to agiee ; it means precisely the contrary. To join issue with a writ- er is directly to deny what he affirms, or affirm LECT. VIII.] CONTROVERSY. 191 what he denies, and to put the question upon trial. A divine therefore should be cautious not only how, but upon what he joins issue ; lest he should find himself unawai-es denying exactly what he intends to affirm, or affirming what he means to deny. The case is different with pleas and pleadings. By these words almost every person, excepting professional lawyers, understands the speeches of the counsel to a judge or a jury ; and you famil- iarly say, I heard such a lawyer plead such a cause, and he spoke well or ill ; he made a good or a bad plea. The expressions in this sense are not incor- rect, because the imiversality of their usage has forced them into lawful currency. But to a mem- ber of the bar pleas and pleadings mean the part of a law-suit, which is written ; not that, which is spoken. They mean the allegations and counter allegations of tlie parties to a suit ; the charge and the answer ; the reply and rejoinder ; the conflict of opposing assertions, which must all be in writ- ing, and by the means of which the parties must come to some specific point of fact, or of law, af- firmed on one side, and denied on the other, before the cause can be tried, or the lawyers argue the issue. The pleadings must all be finished, before 192 STATE OF THE [lECT. VIH. the speeches of the iawyci's conimcnce. So you see pleading in the popular sense ncAcr begins, un- til pleading in the professiouiil sense is over. A very material distinction ! For although there may be instances in the courts, where even the lawyers' speeches do little more than end where they be- gan ; yet the generality of suitors, as well as wit- nesses, would not be very willing to hear them be- gin where they end. The pleadings are the provision, made by tlie common law to bring litigating parties to an issue, or a state of the controversy. And so anxious has the law been to obtain this desirable object, that a perfect knowledge of the doctrine of pleas and pleadings is equivalent to a knowledge of the whole science. Pleas and pleadings are the log- ic of the law, as the speeches of lawj-ers are its rhetoric ; and yet, notwithstanding all these pains, those, who have been habituated to attend the trial of causes, know full well hov/ much time is wasted, of judges and jurors, of suitors and witnesses ; how much weariness is inflicted upon them, and to how much delay the public justice of a nation is subjected from the forgetfulness of lawyers to observe the state of the controversv. LECT. VIII.] CONTROVERSY. 193 In demonstrative orations and discourses from the pulpit the orator is controled only by his own judgment. Here is no formal controversy, as in the other scenes of pul^lic speaking. The state, in this department of oratory, is but another word for the subject. Take up then any collection of orations, delivered on public occasions, and ex- amine them barely upon these two questions, what is the subject ; and what is the beaiing of the discourse upon it ; and you will soon discover, that the state of the controversy is a part of rhetoric, of which demonstrative orators are as ignorant, or as heedless, as those of the senate or the bar. The same observation does not apply with so much force to the sermons, which we are accustomed to heai* from the desk, and occasion- ally to read in print. In this, as in every other respect, the modern eloquence of the pulpit ap- proaches nearer to the excellence of antiquit}-, than that, which is heard in eidier of the fields of orato- \y, which are common both to ancient and mod- ern times. The practice of delivering written vliscourscs, and the frequency, with which every clergyman is required to perform this service, have naturally produced in that profession a clear- ("t perception, and a stronger impression of the 25 194 STATE OF THE [lECT. VIII. Utility of methodical an^angcment, and of adher- ence to the sul3Ject, than can ever be acquired by the practice of occasional and extemporaneous speaking. The connexion between the sermon and its text is generally better preserved, than that of any other class of discourses, u ith their state of controversy ; yet even in the compositions of the divine, his method is often more formal tlian sub- stantial, and as often marked by the breach, as by the observance. Upon this 'subject however, as well as upon the topics, v/hich arc very intimately connected with it, the subtlety of the ancient rhetoricians was ever on the rack to analyze and classify all the kinds of states, which could possibly be devis- ed. Quinctilian devotes a very long chapter to the discussion of this article. According to his usual custom he recapitulates the opinions of pre- ceding rhetoricians, and concludes with giving his own. He apologizes for having changed this opinion since the time, ^vhen he had taught rhet- oric professionally, and his ideas on the subject still appear to be indistinct or confused. He does not very clearly distinguish between the state of the controversy, as applied generally to every kind of public discourse, and the state of the controver- LECT. VIII.J CONTROVERliY. 195 sy, as confined to the practice of the bar. Nor does he seem to have settled to his own satisfac- tion, or to that of his reader very precisely, in what particular stage of judicial controversy the state is to be found. The difficulties of ascertain- ing the true state are indeed in all practical orato- ry much greater, than a slight consideration ^^•ould imagine. They arise principally from three sources, which in the language of the science are called co-ordinate, subordinate, and contingent states. 1. Co-ordinate stiites occur, when there arc more questions than one, which, separately taken, and independent of all the rest, invohe all the merits of the case. Such as the several charges of Cicero against Ven-es. Such are the impeach- ments of modem times, both in England and in our own country. Every article contains a co- ordinate state with all the rest ; and tlie}^ ma}- be met Avith distinct and separate answers to each charge, or by one general answer to all. Co-ordinate states are most frequent in the practice of the bar. They seldom occur in delib- erative assemblies ; though sometimes they may arise upon different sections of one law. In the pulpit also they are rare ; the subject being at die 196 STATE 01 THE [lECT. VIII. preacher's election, and unity being generally a point, which he is ambitious to observe. Yet a sermon may occasionally consist of co-ordinate states. Suppose, for example, you were to take for illustration the following text ; "he that jus- tifieth the wicked, and he that condemncth the just, even they both are abomination to the Lord." You would have two co-ordinate states, under one of which you would enlarge upon the guilt of con- demning the just, and under the other upon that of justifying the wicked. 2. Subordinate states are questions distinct from the principal point ; controvertible in them- selves, and more or less important to its decision. They are common to every mode of public speak- ing. Take, for instance, that A'cry common theme of a sermon ; " and now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three ; but the greatest of these is charity." The comparative excellence of faith, hope, and charity, are the subordinate states. The transcendent excellence of charity is the main state ; and the preacher's drift is to display, not only the positive beauties of this admirable virtue, but its relative merits, by comparison with the two next highest graces of Christianity, LECT. VIII.] CONTROVERSY. 197 In deliberative eloquence you will find a re- markable instance of subordinate states, skilfully adapted to tlie main state, in Burke's speech on his proposal for conciliation between Great Britain and her then American colonies. His main state was the necessity of conciliation. Why ? Be- cause America could not be subdued by force. This is a subordinate state. But tlie proof of his main position depended entirely upon its demon- stration ; and it was a truth so unwelcome to his audience, that it was incumbent upon him to place every part of his argument beyond the power of a cavil. The depth and extent of research, the ada- mantine logic, and tlie splendor of oratory, with which he performs this task, has in my own opin- ion no parallel in the records of modern delib- erative eloquence. It was for wise and beneficent purposes, that providence suffered this admirable speech to fail of conviction upon the sordid and venal souls, to whom it was delivered. As a piece of eloquence, it has never been appreciated at half its value. 3. Incidental states are questions, arising oc- casionally, and more or less connected with the main question, without being essential to it. They • are common to ev'cry species of orator}^ though 198 STATE OF THE [lECT. VIII. of rarer use iii the desk, where they generally par- take of the nature of digressions. But in legisla- tive assemblies every proposition for an amend- ment, offered to a bill upon its passage ; and at the bar every occasional motion for the postpone- ment of a trial, the admission of a witness, the dis- qualification of a juror, or the like, introduces an incidental question, having some relation to the main state of the controversy. Tliesc are some of the causes, whence it so of- ten happens, that public speakers deviate from their proper subject ; and from these you will at once perceive the difficulty and the necessity of eager attention to the state of the controversy. I sliall not trouble you w ith the metaphysical refine- ments of the ancient rhetoricians, and their inex- haustible multiplication of states. It will suffice to say, that Cicero and Quinctilian reduce them to three ; which they call the states of conjecture, of definition, and of quality ; equivalent, as they are explained by Cicero, to the questions, whether a thing is ; what it is ; and how it is ; to wliich Aristotle and some modem writers have added a state of quantity, or whether the thing be more or less. For example, the state of conjec- ture is what, in our modern courts of justice, is LECT. VIII.] CONTROVERSY. 199 termed an issue of fact. All trials by jury there- fore are upon questions with the state of conjec- ture. The reason given for thus calling it is, that, being a question of fact, asserted by one par- ty and denied by the other, the decision depends upon the conjecture of the judge. If this conjec- tural etymology be correct, it implies no very flat- tering compliment to the ancient practice of the law ; since it insinuates, that, after all the labors of the learned counsel, the judge is left to decide the question by mere conjecture or guess. One would suspect, that the rhetorician, who first gave the name, meant more than meets tlie ear, and sheathed a sarcasm in a definition. Quinctilian tells us indeed, that " conjecture is a certain direc- tion of reason towards truth; whence interpreters of dreams and omens were called conjectors." Bui conjecture, if a certain, is by no means a sure di- rection of reason towards truth. Its essence on the contrary is uncertainty. The illustration, which assimilates the decision of a question of fact to the interpretation of dreams and omens, was doubtless \ery seriously adduced by Quinc- tilian ; but how far it liclps the matter I leave for your judgments to determine ; only adding m}- most earnest recommendation to every one of you. 200 STATE OF THE [lECT. VIII. Avho may liereafter have occasion to address a jurj- of your country, that you would entertain a nobler idea of your profession and of its duties, than to leave the cause to be determined upon a state of conjecture, or by the interpretation of a dream. The states of definition, of quiility, and quanti- ty, are all included under the denomination of is- sues in law in our modern courts of justice. In- deed it is difficult to say what great point of dis- crimination between them could induce the an- cients to place them under separate heads. The state of definition, for instance, is said to be a case, where the fact is admitted ; but the question relates to its nature, or how the act should be defined. The instance alledged by Cicero is of a consecrat- ed vessel, pilfered from a private house. The question is, whether this act were theft, or sacri- lege ; and the determination depends upon the definition of these two crimes. This state is yet very common in trials at the bar upon criminal prosecutions ; as there are many offences, which, according to the circumstances, with which they are committed, assume a lighter or a deeper dye, are known by different names, and punishable with different penalties. Thus theft, according to the ■s'alue of the article stolen, is called grand or petty LECT. VIII.^ CONTROVERSY. 201 larceny. Attended with violence to the person, becomes robbery ; and, if with breaking open a dwelling house in the night-time, blackens into burglary. These, according to the ancient rhet- oricians, might all have been states of definition ; that is, when the facts upon a trial concerning them were admitted, their criminality would de- pend upon the definitions of the crimes. But they might also have been states of quantity ; that is, whether the specific act committed was more or less aggravated ; whether it was burglary, or robber}', or simple theft. The state of quality is Upon agreed facts ; but the question is whether they were right or \vrong. Not what were the gradations of guilt, but whether there was any guilt at all. But all these distinctions will be of little use to you. In modern practice they are all solved in the clear and substantial distinction of is- sues of fact, and issues of law. Thus, in the case of Roscius Amerinus, Cicero's oration is upon a state of conjecture ; whether Roscius committed the deed ; and under our usages would have been an issue in fact. But in the case of Milo it was a state of quality. The fact, that Clodius was killed by Milo or his servants, was undisputed ; but Cice ro argues, that the act was justifiable self-defence. 26 202 STATE OF THE [lECT. VIII. By our customs it would have been an issue in law. Thus much for the doctrine of rhetorical states ; and to sum up all, tliat I have said con- cerning them, you will observe, that the term is used in two different senses ; under one of which it is only another word for the subject of the speaker's discourse, and is applied to every spe- cies of public oration ; while under the other it is limited to judicial practice, and is equivalent to what the common lawyers call the issue. Hav- ing thus a clear idea of what the word means, to make the knowledge of use to yourselves and others, the only purpose, for which any knowl- edge is worth acquiring, let your reflections turn upon the importance, and upon the difficulty to every orator of fixing, and adhering in all public discourses to the state of the controversy, or cause. But it is also of high importance to the hearer of every public speaker. In that point of view it is material to you all. For although some of you may never intend to follow the prac- tice of public speaking, yet you will all occasion- ally be hearers ; and, with your advantages of edu- cation, all will be expected to be judges of the public orators. You have been justly told, that LECT. VIII.] CONTROVERSY. 203 there is an art in silent reading. Tlie art of col- lecting the kernel from the shell ; of selecting the wheat from the tares. Let me add, for it is only another modification of the same truth, that there is an art in hearing. And one of its most elabo- rate exercises is to ascertain the state of a public speaker's discourse. An art perhaps as rare, as that of orator}^ Pope has very justly represented this contagion of judgments without reflection. 'Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill Appear in writing, or in judging ill ; But of the two lesB heinous is the offence To tire our patience, than mislead our sense. Some few in that, but numbers err in this ; Ten censure wrong, for one, who writes am iss. And these observations apply to speaking, no less than to writing. A great source of errone- ous judgment upon public speaking arises from the hearer's neglect or incapacity to ascertain the state of the speaker's cause ; yet in this are in- volved all the essential parts of a correct judg- ment. From this alone can a just estimate of the merits both of the subject and of the speaker be formed. Listen to the criticisms you will hear on a divine in the pulpit, on a legislator in 204 STATE OF THE [lECT. VIII. in the general court, on a lauyer at the bar, and nineteen times in twenty to what will they amount? To a comment upon some unusual w^ord ; to a cavil upon some grammatical anomaly; to self admiring derision at the detection of some un- lucky blunder ; and to profound admiration at the glitter of some flashy metaphor. These are the trappings and the suits of oratory. They can no more qualifs^ the auditor to pronounce upon the character of a discourse, than a pearl necklace can enable you to judge of a woman's beauty, or a diamond ring can indicate to a surgeon the soundness and vigor of a man's constitution. The state of the cause in rhetoric is the inward man ; the intenius homo of the anatomists. Here is the seat of life ; here all the functions of vitality are performed ; and here alone the nature of the be- ing is to be found. But this is not to be discern- ed by a vacant eye, roaming without direction over the surface. As speakers then or as hearers, let your first attention always be directed to the state of the controversy. Acquire the habit of this atten- tion here, by its employment in all your exercises of composition ; and it will soon need no other re- commendation, than its own success. Were I required to point out any one thing, which most LECT. VIII.] CONTROVERSY. . '205 forcibly discovers the inventive powers of a speak- er, the infallible test of oratorical ability, the stamp, -Mhich distinguishes the orator from th.e man of words ; I should say, it is the adaptation of the speech to the state of the contro\'ersv. LECTURE IX. TOPICS. THE division of all oratorical discourses into demonstrative, deliberative, and judicial classes, as explained in one of my last lectures, was made, as I then informed you, for the purpose of facilitating tlie process of invention, and of marking the dis- crimination between those topics, which furnish arguments to every kind of discourse, and those, peculiarly incident to each of the separate classes. The topics, which belong alike to every species of public discourse, are those, which first claim our attention ; and, in the works of the ancient rhetor- icians, assume exclusively to themselves the name of topics. They were originally so called from the Greek word toto?, a place, as being the com- 208 TOPICS. [lect. IX. mon seats or places, to Avhich every speaker must resort for his arguments. They were aUke open to both parties in e\ ery controversy ; which indis- criminate adaptation, together with the abuses, which a misappUcation of them has often occasion- ed, has contributed in process of time to bring them into contempt ; and almost all the modem writers upon rhetoric have concurred to explode them from the science. It was not without some hesitation, that I determined to make them the sub- ject of a lecture. But being myself of opinion, that they are not so entirely useless, as in' modem times they have generally been considered ; and reflecting, that the purpose of these lectures is to make you acquainted not only with the prevailing systems, but with the history of rhet- oric ; I concluded to give you such an abstract of them, as may at least open more thoroughly to }our view the ancient systems of the science, al- though they may never answer any purpose of practical oratory for your own use. The rhetorical topics, or common places then were the general incidents, or circumstances, be- longing alike to every subject, and distributed under a certain number of heads, to facilitate the inven- tion of public speakers. The topics were divid- LECT. IX.] TOPICS. 209 ed into two general classes ; internal aiid external. The internal topics ai'ose from the bosom of the subject itself. External topics arose from any oth- er source without the subject, but made applica- ble to it. They are in our courts of law included under the general designation of evidence. The internal topics are said to be sixteen; three of which, defmition, enumeration, and notiition or etymology, embrace the whole subject. The others, without being equally comprehensive, arc derived from its various properties, incidents, and relations. From tiieir names you will perceive die necessity of some further explanation to render them intelligible. They are as follow. Genus, species, antecedents, consequents, adjuncts, con- jugates, cause, effect, contraries, repugnances, similitude, dissimilitude, and comparison. Definition I presume it will not be necessai'v for me to define. But it will not be improper to tell you, that definitions are of two kinds, that is, of things and of ideas ; objects percejjtible to the sense, and objects only conceived by the un- derstanding. The forms of definition are Aari- ous ; but the essential character of tlieni all must be to separate the properties, which the defined object has in common vrith all others, Tvoin 27 210 TOPICS. [lect. IX. those, which arc pccuUar to itself. Definition is of great use in argument, and is at least as service- able in logic, as in rhetoric. It is much used by the French orators, as an instrument of amphfica- tion. Thus, in the funeral oration of Turenne by Flechier, the orator, to display with greater force the combination of talents, required for command- ing an arm}-, resorts to an oratorical definition. " What," says he, " what is an army? An army is a body, agitated by an infinite variety of passions, directed by an able man to the defence of his country. It is a multitude of armed men blindly obedient to the orders of a commander, and totally ignorant of his designs. An assembly of base and mercenary souls for the most part, toiling for the fame of kings and conquerors, reg-ardless of their own; a motley mass of libertines to keep in order; of cowards to lead in to battle ; of profligates to re- strain; of mutineers to control." This definition, you see, is no panegyric, and to a superficial view may appear to liave been ill judged at the court of Louis XIV, and ill timed in die funeral eulogy of a great general. It is precisely what constitutes its highest merit. In this definition there was couch- ed a profound moral lesson to Louis himself, which that prince had magnanimity enough to LEGT. IX.] TOPICS. _ 211 hear without offence, though not enough to apply with genuine wisdom to his conduct. I question whether any Parisian orator of the present da}- would pronounce such a definition of an army. Enumeration consists in the separation of a subject into its constituent parts. The letters of Junius, ranking in the very first line of eloquence, but far lower in moral and political wisdom, make frequent use of enumeration. His first letter for instance contains an enumeration of the high of- fices of state, which composed the administiation ; with a commentary to prove, that they were all held by weak or wortliless men. In his address to the king, he asks him on what part of his sub- jects he could rely for support, if the people of England should revolt ; and then ansv/ers by enumerating all the other classes of people, then composing the British empire, and proving, that he could depend upon none of them. Enumera- tion is of great use in elaborate argument, but when employed must be made complete ; that is, the utmost care must be taken not to omit any one of the component parts. Notation, or etymology, seeks the meaning of a word by tracing it to its original sources. Its use is for elucidation ; and its application is most 212 TOPICS. [lect. IX. suited to discussion of judicial questions. Near- ly akin to notation are conjugates, which are noth- ing more than the different words, derived from the same root. Thus, when Milton's Comus sa\s " It is for homely features to keep home, They had their name thence ;" he gives an example both of notation and of con- jugates. Genus and species must be well understood by all the students of logic. They are however often employed in ai-gumentative orator}^ and the speaker's talent is discerned in the art, with which he descends from a general to a special proposi- tion ; or ascends from the special to the general. In technical language the general position is called the thesis, and the special position the h3pothesis. In using arguments from these topics you have on- ly to remember, that the species proves the ge- nus ; but the genus rather excludes, than proves the species. This is rather abstruse ; but per- haps the following little epigram of Prior will make it plainer. Yes, every poet is a fool. By demonstration Ned can show it ; iECT. IX.] TOPICS. 21S Happy, could Ned's inverted rule Prove every fool to be a poet. Here fool is the genus, and poet the species ; and the very point of the epigram rests upon the ax- iom, I have just laid down, that the species proves the genus ; but that the genus is better in aigu- ment to exclude, than to prove the species. Antecedents, consequents, and adjuncts arc circumstances attendant upon the principal point, in the several relations of past, future, and present time. The application of these topics is most com- mon in arguments at law, upon questions of fact; and aic there practised in form of comment upon what is called circumstantial evidence. Antece- dents and consequents are said by Cicero more properly to belong to logic, than to rhetoric ; be- cause they are necessary attendants upon die fact. But adjuncts are more peculiarly rhetorical topics ; because mere contingencies, which leave large room for imagination and conjecture. The re- lation of antecedent and consequent is stronglv marked in two lines of Shakspeare. She is a woman ; therefore to be woo'd ; Slic is a woman ; therefore to be vron. Implying, as characteristic of the female character, 214 TOPICS. [lECT. IX. that a woman can neither be won without antece- dent wooing; nor wooed without consequent win- ning. I do not vouch for the truth of the senti- ment, but only adduce the passage, as an exam- ple where these topics are brought into the most pointed opposition. It requires a minute subtlet}^ of discrimination to distinguish between these places and those of cause and effect. They are however distinguish- ed, as well as the two kinds of cause and effect ; the one universal and the other occasional. The inference from effect to cause is more conclu- sive, than that from cause to effect. Thus the ma- terial world, both in reason and in scripture, is the foundation of a never-answered argument to prove the existence of the Creator. The visible things arc the effect ; and they prove beyond dispute the invisible things, the cause ; the eternal power and godhead of the Creator. But this argument cannot be inverted. The existence of the Crea- tor is not in itself a proof of the creation. A ne- -cessary caution in the use of this argument from effect to cause is not to trace the connexion too far, by ascending to a cause too remote. The reasoning in such cases becomes ludicrous. Thus Shakspeare's Polonius undertakes with great so- LECT. IX.] TOPICS. 215 lemnity to find out the cause of Hamlet's madness. And, after much circumlocution in praise of brev- ity, and much prologue to introduce nothing, when he comes to assign the cause, it is, " I have a daughter;" and then, through a long and minute deduction, infers from his having a daughter the lord Hamlet's madness ; to make all which elaborate reasoning the more ridiculous, you will recollect, that the madness, so shrewdly deduced from its cause by Polonius, was all the time feigned. So, in the Dunciad, Dennis draws the lamentable conclusion, that he is sixty years of age from a cause still more remote. And am 1 then three -score ! Ah 1 why, ye gods, must two and two make four I Another nice distinction is that between contra- ries and repugnancies. Thus, in the passage from Sallust, Concordia res pai'vae crescunt, discor- dia maximae dilabuntur ; the observation is taken from the contraries, concord and discord. But w^hen Pope, speaking of some character, says he was So obliging, that he ne'er obliged ; the assertion is drawn from repugnancy ; from things generally inconsistent, but sometimes 216 TOPICS. [lect. IX. reconcileable. The use of contraries gives energy to the thought; tliat of repugnancies often gives smartness to the expression. The combination of repugnancies is the most fruitful source of the an- tithesis ; a figure, of which I shall say more here- after. Similitude, dissimilitude, and comparison, stand last in the list of internal topics, and are among the most copious sources of rhetorical or- nament. These peculiarly belong to rhetoric ; as those of cause and effect, antecedent and conse- quent, are more especially suited to logic. The distinction between similitude and comparison is, that the former has reference to the quality, the latter to the quantity. Comparison is between more and less ; similitude is between good and bad. Thus when Livy says of Hannibal, who rested upon the Alps some time with his army, that he hung like a tempest upon the declivities of the mountains, it is a likeness by similitude. But when a learned writer says, that the sublimity of the scriptural prophets exceeds that of Homer, as much as thunder is louder than a whisper, it is a likeness by comparison. Similitude draws ob- jects together to show their resemblance ; compari- son separates them to mark their difference. LECT. IX.] TOPICS. 217 From the internal let us now pass to the con- sideration of the external, or, as they are other- wise called, the inartificial topics. Inartificial, not that their management requires less art, than that of the others ; it requires perhaps more ; but because they are not inherent in the subject itself, upon which you discourse ; but arise from some CAiernal source. There is gieat diversity and no small confusion among the ancient rhetoricians upon this part of the subject, which varies in the Greek and Roman writers, according to the vari- eties in their political and judicial institutions ; and most of which is altogether inapplicable, except under a different modification, to ours. The external topics, according to Quinctilian, are six. First, prejudications ; second, common fame ; third, torture ; fourth, written documents ; fifth, oaths ; and sixth, witnesses. 1. Prejudications were principally confined to the bar. They were of three kinds. First, precedents, or adjudged cases, involving the same point of law, as that in litigations. These are as much used among us, as they were among the Romans ; and every lawyer's library principally consists of such adjudged cases in elaborate compilations under the name of reports. Second, previous decisions 28 218 TOPICS. [lECT. IX. on the same question between other parties. As for instance in the case of Ciuentius ; two of the accomplices of Oppianicus had already been tried, and convicted ; from which circumstance Cicero strongly urges the argument against Oppianicus himself. Third, decisions of the same cause and between- the same parties, before tribunals of inferior jurisdiction, from which there was an ap- peal. The second and third of these kinds of prejudication are as familiar to our laws, as to the Roman code ; but they do not furnish the orator the same fund of argument ; because it is a set- tled maxim of the common law, that the decision of the same question between other parties, or the de- cision of an inferior tribunal is upon the appeal of no authority whatsoever; and the case must be tried, as if it had never before been judicially examined- Thus the verdict of a coroner's inquest, the in- dictment of a grand jury, or the sentence of an infe- rior court, appealed from, cannot with propriety be mentioned, as matter of argument on either side of a cause. In this respect our system of rendering justice has improved upon that of the civil law. Another difference between the common and the civil law makes a different application and modifi- cation of arguments, drawn from prejudication, lECT. IX.] TOPICS. 219 necessary. By the Roman system the questions of law and fact, involved in a cause, were always blended together, and decided by the same judges. By the common law every question of law was de- cided by the judge, and every question of fact by the jury ; and, excepting in cases where the ques- tions of law and fact are so interwoven together, that the decision of one involves that of the other, this doctrine of the common law still prevails in practice. Hence the authority of precedents, pre- judications on mere points of law, is much greater, than in the age of Quinctilian ; while his second class of prejudications, chiefly relating to facts, which had so much weight in his time, has none or next to none in ours. I say next to none, be- cause by the principles of our law it ought to have none. Not but that, in your attendance upon ju- dicial courts, you will sometimes hear a speaker ar- gue from this, and even from the third class of pre- judications. There always will be some weight in such arguments and therefore they often will be in- troduced for want of better. But our institutions very justly counteract that natural first propensity to adopt the opinions of others ; and forbid juries from putting any trust in the presentment of an hv 220 lopics. [lect. IX. quest, and judges from paying any regard, on ap- peal, to the judgment of the subordinate tribunal. There is another peculiarity in our institutions, which in like manner forbids, and yet instigates occasionally the use of arguments from prejudica- tion, in our legislative assemblies, and in deliber- ative discourses. Our legislatures, as you know, generally consist of two separate assemblies ; a sen- ate and a house of representatives. Ever)-^ law, be- fore it is enacted, must be assented to by a majority of each of these assemblies. It is very common, upon a debate in either branch upon a question, which has been acted upon in the other, to alledgethe determination of the co-ordinate body, as an argu- ment for or against the thing itself. But the same remark is here applicable, which I have just made with regard to the second and third kinds of judi- cial prejudications. Such arguments are incon- sistent with the fundamental principle, upon which the legislative power is divided between two dis- tinct bodies of men. They are contrary to the rules of order in every such assembly. Yet such is the sympathetic power of opinion, that they are int|-oduced into almost every debate, and are sel- dom entirely without their influence. L£C T. IX.] TOPICS. 221 Wlien prejudication is adduced by way of ar- gument, the speaker, adducing it, naturally dwells upon every circumstance, which may contribute to its weight ; and enlarges on cxtry favorable in- cident of reputation and character, which adds to its authority ; and upon every feature or siniilaiity between the case decided and that in contro^•crsy. His adversary, on the other hand, diligendy marks the points of dissimilarity, or assails the reputation of those, from whom the decision is adduced. This requires much delicacy of management. It is usual to profess at least a respect of form for die inten- tions of those, whose authority is opposed ; and when occasions arise, as they sometimes must, le- quiring an exception to this rule, and corrupt mo- tives are to be denounced, moderation of expres- sion becomes at once one of the most difficult and most necessaiy parts of the orator's address. 2. Common fame is a copious topic for argument in deliberative and demonstrati\ e dis- courses, but is generally excluded from the ju- dicial practice of modern nations. As evidence, it is by the rules of the common law never admis- sible, when other exidence can be supposed to ex- ist. The reputation of a witness, the marriage of persons deceased, who lived together as man and 222 TOPICS. [lect. IX. wife, and some other cases of that kind are al- lowed to be proved by common fame ; but in general the extreme inaccuracy of such testimony has sJmt the doors of our courts of justice against it. Common fame and prejudication can seldom or never extend further, than to warrant a pre- sumption. The sfjcaker, appealing to it, may ex- ercise his ingenuity in deriving from the concur- rent assent of multitudes the probability of truth. But common fame herself is no better reputed in the M'orld, than in the courts of common law. Her testimony stands so degraded in universal es- timation, that upon a controverted fact there is some danger in referring to her ; as a skilful oppo- nent takes advantage of the very reference to her, and urges, that the truth is to be found in the dis- belief of what she asserts, and the full faith of what she denies. 3. Torture, which was a topic of contin- ual recurrence among the Greeks and Romans, is still applied in many parts of modern Europe. It has often been considered, as the most powerful of all the tests of truth ; but its use is equally abhor- rent to the spirit of freedom, of reason, and of hu- manity. Among the ancients slaves only were subjected to it ; but wherever it has been practised LECT. IX.] TOPICS. 223 it has been thought to produce evidence of the strongest kind ; and the person tortured has been said to be put to the question. Fortunately for us, we can never know its effects, but by specu- lation and tlie experience of others. It is not among the ways and means of our oratoiy. 4. Written documents compose a great proportion of the testimonies, admitted as evi- dence in the courts of law. Papers of this de- scription give rise to oratorical controversy, either upon their authenticity, or upon their meaning or construction, or upon their legal effect. These are subjects however at this day more proper for die investigation of students at law, than of the mere rhetorician. The law prescribes how every doc- ument must be executed for admission, as evi- dence in the courts. It contains rules, founded upon sound logic, for settling the questions from ambiguity of expression, from disagreement be- tween the words and intention, from repugnan- ces, from analogies of reasoning, and from varie- ties of interpretation. It has dictated also their forms of expression, the legal operation of which has been settled for many ages. To your future studies I must then refer you for a further elucida- tion of tliis subject. 224 TOPICS. [lect. IX. 5. The importance of oaths, as oratorical topics, is also princij:)aUy confined to the practice of the law. The oath of the parties was one of the common modes of trial among the Greeks and Romans. It is also admitted in certain cases both by the common and statute laws of this com- monwealth ; but the general maxim of our law is, that no man can be received as a witness in his own cause ; and it usually disqualifies the testimo- ny of every person, interested in the event of the trial. The oath of a party therefore, even when admitted, can never have much weight, and can l^e of use to an orator only on the failure of all otlier testimony. 6. Witnesses constitute the last external topic, concerning which I am to speak. And un- der this name are included authorities from emi- nent writers, common proverbs, and oracles among the ancients, instead of which we substitute the sa- cred scriptures. There are also two modes of collecting the testimony of living witnesses ; that is, one vv'hen they are present, by word of mouth ; the other in their absence, when it is reduced to the form of written depositions. The difference between these two modes of evidence, the ad- vantages and inconveniences, attending each of LEC T. IX.] topics. 225 them, and the cases, in which they are admissible, or must be excluded, belong, like almost every part of these external topics, to the same theory of evidence, which occupies so large a portion of the lawyers' studies. Such are the topics, both internal and external, which occupy so high a station in all the ancient books upon rhetoric. You will readily conceive what infinite variety of matter they present to the use of an orator. But besides the direct employ- ment of them all, they may be applied also indi- rectly under a fictitious presentment of facts, with the aid of hypothesis. The hypothesis of an ora- tor bears the same proportion to his thesis, tliat traverse bears to plane sailing in navigation. It is not included among the tt^pics, but includes them all under a different modification. Hypothesis is the potential or subjunctive mood of rhetoric ; fre- quently used in every kind of public discourse- It is peculiarly calculated to excite attention, and rivet the impression of the topics, employed under it. Read for instance Junius' address, whicli I have already quoted, and commonh' called his let- ter to the king. It is however in form a hypothet- ical speech to the king, introduced ih a letter to the printer, and a considerable part of its force is 29 226 TOPICS. [lect. IX. owing to the hypothesis, upon which it is raised. Hypothesis is a favorite artifice with all orators of a brilliant imagination. It gives a Hcense of ex- cursion to fancy, which cannot be allowed to the speaker, while chained to the diminutive sphere of relatives. In deliberative and judicial orations, it affords an opportunity to say hypothetically what the speaker would not dare to say directly. The artifice is indeed so often practised to evade all re- straint upon speech, that there is at least no inge- nuity in its employment. The purposes, for which it is resorted to from this motive, are often so disingenuous, that in seeing it used and abus- ed, as you will upon numberless occasions through- out your lives, you will probably go a step beyond the conclusion of the philosophical clown in Shak- speare, and settle in the opinion, that there is much vice, as well as " much virtue in if." Thus much may suffice for the doctrine of the topics, or loci communes, which were deemed of vast importance to the students both of logic and rhetoric in ancient times, but which the modem teachers of eloquence have almost unanimously pronounced to be utterly useless. If mere au- thority were to decide the question, the writers ot later ages must excuse me for receiving with LECT. IX.] TOPICS. 227 great caution any principle in the theory of the science, directly opposed to the opinion and the practice of Cicero. But considering the subject, as divested of all sanction from venerable names, on its own merits I do not deem the topics to be altogether without their use. Their proper use may be illustrated by reference to an usage, with which you are all well acquainted. In entering an apothecarj^'s shop you have of- ten observed its walls lined with a ^^•ainscot' ing of small boxes, on the outside of which you have seen, painted in capital letters, certain cabalist- ical words, most of which I presume } ou found yourselves quite unable to decypher. You ask the attendant at the shop for the medicinal article you want; he goes to one of his boxes, and in a moment brings you the drug, for which you applied ; but which you never would have discovered from the names upon the boxes. Now the topics are, as I conceive, to the young orator, exactly what the apothecary's painted boxes are to his apprentice. To the total stranger they are impenetrable hiero- glyphics. To the thorough bred physician they may be altogether unnecessar}-. But in that interme- diate stage, when arrangement is needed to relieve the mind from the pressure of accumulation, the 228 TOPICS. |]lect. ix. paiiitcd boxes and the rhetorical topics may be of great use to the young practitioner. The topics are the ticketed boxes, or the labelled phials, in Avhich die arguments of the speaker are to be found. And although telling us where to look for an argument does not furnish us the argu- ment itself, yet it may suggest the train of thought, and add facility to the copiousness of the orator. This is all the benefit, that can be derived, or that I presume it was ever pretend- ed could be derived from a thorough knowl- edge of the topics. They cannot give, but they may assist invention. They exhibit the subject in all its attitudes, and under every diversity of light and shade. They distribute the field of con- templation among a number of distinct proprietors, and mark out its divisions by metes and bounds. A perfect master of tlie topics may be a verj' mis- erable orator ; but an accomplished orator will not disdain a thorough knowledge of the topics. LECTURE X. ARGUMENTS AND DEMONSTRATIVE ORATORY. HAVING in my preceding lectures explain- ed to you the nature, and submitted to your re- flections my opinion of the real worth of those in- cidents in the science of rhetoric, usually known by the denomination of the state of the controver- sy, and general topics, internal as well as external, the course of my subject now leads me to consider, separately and successively, the arguments suitable to each of the three classes of orations, the de- monstrative, the deliberative, and tlie judicial. This arrangement is enjoined by the regulations of the institution ; and is perhaps the best, that could have been devised, as it unfolds to your view the principles of the rhetorical science in the same or- 230 ARGUMENTS AND [lECT. X. der of time, as they may be expected to present themselves to your use for practical application. Whenever you shall have occasion to speak in public, the first object, to wliich your attention will be reciuircd, can be no other, than to ascertain precisely the state of the controversy, or in other words the subject of your discourse. The next will be to collect from the whole stock of your ideas those, ^vhich may be most subservient to tlie design, for which you are to speak ; and the rhetor- ical topics were devised to facilitate this process. Your third consideration will be to setde specifical- ly upon those ideas or arguments, best adapted to the particular nature of discourse. The argu- ments, specially adapted to each of the three kinds of public speaking, may be and often are introduc- ed to the greatest advantage in discourses of the other classes ; but there are certain ai'guments, adapted in a peculiar manner to each of the three departments, which still retain their character and denomination, even when used in the service of the others. The arguments, suited to either of the three kinds of discourses, are such, as apply more espe- cially to the purjoose of that class, to which they belong ; and to determine what that is we must LECT.X.] DEMONSTRATIVE ORATORY. 231 recur to those original and fundamental distinc- tions, which I have already noticed. You will re- member then, that the central point, to which all the rays of argument should converge, in delibera- tive oratory is utility ; in judicial discourses is justice ; and in demonstrative orations is praise or censure. Every discourse then, of which panegyric or reprobation upon persons or things is the main purpose, must be included in the demonstrative class. It embraces accordingly a very numerous description of oratorical performances, both of an- cient and of modern times. Amons: the Greeks and Romans panegyrics upon the gods, upon princes, generals, and distinguished men dead or living, and even upon cities and countries, were frequenriy ^vritten and delivered. Funeral eulo- gies upon deceased persons of illustrious rank, male or female, were often composed and pro- nounced in public by their kinsmen ; a custom, to which the first emperors themselves, Julius Caesar, Augustus, and Tiberius, successively con- formed. These were orations strictly and al- together demonstrative. But the panegyric of Pompey, interwoven by Cicero into his oration for the Manilian law, that of Caesar in the oration 232 ARGUMENTS AND [lECT. X. for Marcellus, that of Literature in the oration for Archias ; the panegyric of Trajan by the younger Pliny ; and Cicero's invectives against Antony in his philippics, against Piso, Catiline, Clodius, and Verres, in many other of his orations, are applications of the demonstrative manner in cer- tain parts of deliberative, or judicial discourses. In modern ages and christian countries funeral sermons are every where customary. With the Roman Catholics the panegyric of saints is an or- dinary exercise of public eloquence. Some of the most illustrious scientific and literary societies in France were accustomed, upon the decease of a member, to hear a short biographical eu- logy pronounced upon him by their secretary. During a long series of years every member of the French academy was expected, on the day of his reception, to deliver a panegyric upon Louis XIV, the first patron, and upon Cai'dinal Riche- lieu, the founder of that institution. The learned academies of "France were accustomed also to pro- pose the panegyric of some distinguished person- age in French history, as a subject for ingenious competition, with the offer of a prize or premium for the best performance. These were also dis- courses strictly demonstrative, though, instead of LECT. X.] DEMONSTRATIVE ORATORY. 233 being delivered by their authors, the prize com- position alone was read at a public meeting of the society. But as demonstrative eloquence has been thus assiduously cultivated and zealously encouraged in France, it has in a very singular and unaccount- able manner been neglected in England. Of the British nation may emphatically be said, what one of their most eloquent writers has confessed of himself; "they are not conversant in the language of panegyric." How has it happened, that a peo- ple, illustrious by a long catalogue of worthies, among the brightest in the fields of fame, should have taken so little pains, or rather should so stu- diously have avoided, to bestow upon them the merited mead of glory ? Their substitute for the clarion of fame is a marble monument in St. Paul's church, or Westminster Abbey. This is indeed a fair and honorable distinction ; a powerful in- centive to generous deeds, and a noble expression of national gratitude. But after all a tomb-stone is in its proper character a record of mortality. The approbation, the applause of their fellow men, are among the most precious rewards, which prompt the most exalted spirits to deathless achievements ; and tlie sepulchres of the dead are 30 ^4 ARGUMENTS AND [lECT. X, not the stages, upon which this applause and ap- l)robation can properly ascend. Non quia inter- cedendum putcm imaginibus, quae marmore aut acre fmguiUur ; sed ut vultus hominum, ita simulacra vultus imbecilla ac mortalia sunt ; forma mentis aetenia, quani tcnerc ct expri- mere non per alienam materiem et urtem, sed tuis ipse moribus possis. Have the Brit- ish nation been insensible to the truth of this sublime sentiment ? Have they believed, that such perishable and frail materials, as brass and marble, could bear the proper memorial of imper- ishable minds ? Or why have they been so pe- nurious of their praise ? The funeral sermon is the only oratorical form, in which they have been accustomed to utter eulogy j and even that dis- course lias rather been devoted to soothe private sorrows, or to gratify personal friendship, than to testify public gratitude- or admiration. They once held a theatrical celebration in honor of Shak speare, and they have commemorated Handel in solemnizing the strains of his own harmony. But on these, on all other like occasions, rhetoric has remained in obstinate and immoveable silence. Alfred and Elizabeth, Shakspeare and Milton, Bacon and Locke, Newton and Napier, Mail- LECT.X.] DEMONSTRATIVE ORATORY. 235 borough and Nelson, Chatham and Burke, slum- ber in death, unhonored by. the grateful offerings of panegyric. The British poets indeed have often spoken with exquisite pathos and beauty the language of eulogy ; but in the whole compass of English literature there is not one effusion of eloquence, which, like those of Isocrates, Cicero, and Pliny in Greece and Rome, or those of Bos- suet and Flechier, Mascaron and Thomas in France, immortalize at once the speaker and his subject, and interweave, in one immortal texture, the glories of achievement with those of celebra- tion. Descending in general from British ancestr}-, speaking their language, and educated in their manners, usages, and customs, we have in some degree inherited this unaccountable indifference to the memor}' of departed merit. I sa}' in some degree, for funeral sermons are much more fre- quent in our usage, tlian in that of the nation, whence we originate. But the funeral sermon is perhaps the most objectionable form, in which panegyrical eloquence could be revived. It is too common to be much valued, and too indiscrimi- nate to be very valuable. But we ha\ e occasion^ al funeral orations in honor of distinguished per- 256 ARGUMENTS AND [lECT. X. sonages ; and we have numerous anniversary dis- courses, which might be made the vehicles of honorable and precious commendation. But the acquaintance of our public orators is generally so exclusively limited to English literature, they are accustomed to look for models of composition so invariably to English example, that, where this has failed them, they seem to have been at a loss where to resort for a substitute ; or, with more confidence than safety, they have relied upon the fertility of their own genius, and nobly disdained either to seek models from the past, or to furnish them for the future. Certain at least it is, that our success in this department of literature has not been cor- respondent to our partialities in its favor. The faculties of our countrymen have been more con- spicuous in action, than in celebration. The worthies of elder times have often been commem- orated, but seldom eulogized ; and the spirit of Washington, in the very abodes of blessedness, must have nauseated at some of the reeking hon- ors, which have issued from his tomb. Yet although the English language is destitute of orations strictly demonstrative in the line of pan- egyric, there are however passages of the panegyr- ical description, interspersed in the speeches of their L3E.CT. X.] DEMONSTHATIVE ORATORY. 237 parliamentary orators, m hich prove, that its proper st3'le has not always been either unknown or neg- lected. The speeches of Burke, which were published by himself, contain some admirable specimens of this, as well as of eveiy other kind of eloquence. I refer you particulaiiy to his eulo- gies of Howard, of lord Bathurst, of Charles Townsend, of Sir George Saville, and of Mr. Dunning ; but above all to that of the American people ; the fairest and most glorious tribute of panegyric, that ever was uttered in their honor. As a memorial of the merits of your forefathers, it may be recommended to your patriotism ; as an effort of the most splendid eloquence, to your taste ; and as a lesson of the most elevated moral- ity, to your imitation. Every line of praise upon the fathers should be rccei\ed, as a line of duty for the children. But praise is onl}- the illuminated hemisphere of demonstrative eloquence. Her orb on die oth- er side is darkened with invective and reproach. Solemn orations of invective ai'C not indeed usual. Panegyric sometimes ends in itself, and consti- tutes the only purpose of the speaker. It has not, I believe, been the custom of any age or nation thus to administer censure ; but in discourr.es of 238 ARGUMENTS AND [lECT. X. business, deliberative or judicial, reprehension is perhaps of more frequent and extensive use, than applause. It is plentifully scattered over all the most celebrated orations both of ancient and modern times. Familiar alike to Demosthenes and Cicero ; to Chatham, Junius, and Burke. The French orators indeed have been most spar- ing in its use ; for the sublimest French orators have been ministers of religion, and have been duly impressed with that truly excellent senti- ment of the Athenian priestess, who refused her office to anathematize Alcibiades ; because it was her duty to implore blessings, and not to pro- nounce execrations. She was a priestess to bless, and not to curse. Invective is not one of the pleasing functions of oratory ; nor is it her amia- ble aspect. But she is charged with a sting, as well as ^vith honey. Her terrors are as potent, as her charms; as the same omnipotent hand is manifested by the blasting volley of thunder, as by the genial radiance of the sun. The ultimate object then of demonstrative eloquence is show ; the display of qualities good or bad. Her special function is to point the fin- ger of admiration or of scorn ; to deal out the mead of honor and of shame. From this funda- LECT.X.] DEMONSTRATIVE ORATORY. 239 mental principle are to be derived all the precepts for the composition of demonstrative discourses ; which I shall now present to your consideration in successive reference to the subject, the grounds, and the manner. In other words we are to in- quire, what may properly be praised or censured ; next, for what, and finally how such praise or cen- sure should be dispensed. The subjects of panegyric or reprobation may be either persons or things. In the language of Aristotle, which has been adopted by Quinctilian, *• demonstrative oratory generally relates either to gods or men ; but sometimes to other animals, and even to things inanimate." Surely one would think these divisions sufficiently clear and comprehensive ; but this is one of tlie parts of the science, where the rhetoricians of the middle age, from the time of Quinctilian down to the begin- ning of the last century, wasted a world of idle ingenuity upon petty distinctions, and the multi- plication of artificial subdivisions. Vossius for example very gravely discusses the question, whether this division of Aristotle includes vege- tables ; because they are neither gods, men, other animals, nor things inanimate. Nay, after long and painful argument, he admits, that in the praise 240 ARGUMENTS AND [lECT. X* or censure of persons, actions, and things, that of the brute creation cannot be comprized ; and therefore, in comphance with the scruples of the formidable critics, who insisted upon a more per- fect enumeration, he proposes a fourth subdivis- ion of quasi-j>ersons ; so that every bird, beast, fish, and creeping thing, of this terraqueous globe, might be regularly entitled to its just proportion of panegyric ; or be punished with its proper share of reproach. Unquestionably all being moral or physical, actual or possiWe, from the Supreme Creator to nothing, " night's elder brother," may seriously or in joke be made a subject of eulogy or of invective. But, in order to establish this proposition, it cannot be necessa- ry to dissect all existence material and metaphys- ical, and count its every vein and artery, nerve and sinew, for the purpose of converting into le- gitimate oratory a philippic upon a monkey, or a panegj'ric upon a parrot. In christian countries the great and transcend- ent object of praise, before which all others van- ish, is the Creator and Preserver of the universe. His power and goodness are inexhaustible themes, upon which the duties of the pulpit orator partic- ularly require him to expatiate in all his public per- LECT.X.] DEMONSTRATIVE ORATORY. 241 formances. It is a part of the regular, stated duties of public worship, and in those churches, where this portion of the divine service has not been reduced to prescribed, unvarying forms, is perhaps the most arduous of all the functions of the sanctuary. With the pi-aise of the Creator is naturally associated that of tlie Saviour of the world ; which will be diversified according to the different views, in which that exalted character is considered by the different denominations of christians ; differences, which it is not my prov- ince to discuss, and of which mutual forbear- ance and charity furnish the best, if not the only solution. Among the ancient heathens the mytholog- ical doctrine and history supplied a copious fund for encomiastic eloquence, in their numberless divinities, demi-gods, and heroes. The Roman catholics, by an easy substitution, have reser\'ed to themselves the same themes in their hierarchy of saints, angels, and archangels ; " Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers.'* But the protestant communities know too little of diose " orders bright," those supernatural intel- ligences, to honor them with that paneg}Tic, to 242 ARGUMENTS AND [lECT. X. which, by their rank and dignity in the scale of being, diey may perhaps be entitled ; but which in our ignorance has an unfortunate tendency to lead us from veneration to worship, from the adoration of the true God to the idolatry of his creatures. The persons however, who, in the common affairs of the world, most frequently call for the voice of panegyric or of censure, are men ; or at least human beings. And the qualities, for which they may deserve the warmest praise, are those, which contribute to social or individual happiness. And here it is proper to notice a very material distinction, drawn by Socrates, and developed by his disciples, between what they call the fair, and the good ; the KaAov, mi uyx^ov. By the good they understood all those blessings, the direct benefit of which was confined to their possessor ; such as health, strength, beauty, and the gifts of nature, which contribute to the happiness of the individual. But the fair was the assemblage of those powers and faculties, which are not only desirable in themselves, but as contributing to the happiness of others. Hence it is that Aristotle remarks, that the whole scope of the demonstrative orator is the fair ; to xaAov ; XECT. X.] DEMONSTRATIVE ORATORY. 243 the display of the qualities, which administer to the happiness of mankind. Hence the most perfect theme of human panegjTic is virtue. Virtue is the K«Aov x'a< aya.'ho'j ; both good and fair ; at once contributing to tlie happiness of its possessor and of other men. Virtue alone unites the double praise of enjoyment and of beneficence. But, as beneficence is her most essential charac- teristic, it necessarily follows, that those of her attributes, which are most beneficial to others, are those, which merit the highest panegyric. To do good and to communicate is thus the only solid foundation for legitimate praise ; and the passage of the holy scripture, which says of the blessed Jesus, that he " went about doing good," embraces within itself the whole com- pass of applause, the whole system of demon- strative eloquence. With this general principle always in view, and with continual reference to it, a man may be panegjTized for the qualities of his mind, for bodi- ly accomplishments, or for external circumstances. The highest praise must be reserved for the first. They are most beneficent in their nature, and most extensive in their effects. Mere bodily perfections are of small benefit to the world in a 244 ARGUMENTS AND [lECT. X. state of civilization, and Hercules himself could, by the cleansing of a stable, or the strangling of a lion, deserve but little praise from mankind, once emancipated from the savage weakness of the heroic age. External circumstances, or the blessings of fortune, can supply no materials for encomium from themselves ; but they may be rendered praiseworthy by their application. This they can receive only from the energy of virtue. So that after all, directly or indirectly, viitue is the only pure and original fountiiin of praise. But virtue is a term so general and so compre- hensive, that the idea annexed to it is seldom very precise. Aristotle therefore, after marking its universal characteristic, beneficence, the proper- ty of doing good, enters into a minute enumera- tion of all its parts ; such as justice, fortitude, temperance, magnificence, magnanimity, liberal- ity, meekness, prudence, and wisdom. He gives ingenious and accurate definitions of all these moral and intellectual qualities ; but it de- serves peculiarly to be remarked, that among the virtues he formally includes revenge. For, says he, retaliation is part of justice ; and inflexibility part of fortitude. How striking an illustration LECT.X.] DEMONSTRATIVE ORATORY. 245 is this at once of the superior excellence and of the truth of divine revelation. To mere naked, human nature, this reasoning of Aristotle is irre- sistible. It is not his wonderful sagacity, that deserts him ; it is merely the infirmity of the nat- ural man, in which he participates. On princi- ples of mere natural morality revenge is a virtue, retaliation is justice, and inflexibility is fortitude. But look for the practical comment upon this principle into the fictions of the poets ; see the hero of Homer, the goddess-born Achilles, wreak- ing his fury upon the lifeless corpse of his valiant and unfortunate foe. See the hero of Virgil, the pious /Eneas, steeling his bosom against mercy, and plunging his pitiless sword into the bosom of a fallen and miploring enemy, to avenge the slaughter of his friend. Look for it in real histo- ry; consult Thucydides ; consult the annals of the French revolution, from the instant, when that pe- culiar doctrine of Christianity, the forgiveness of injuries, was cast off, as a relic of monkish superstition; and you will trace this virtue of revenge through rivers and oceans of blood, shed in cold and deliberate butchery. But this sub- ject is too fruitful and too important for discussion here. It is a theme for more sacred occasions, 246 ARGUMENTS AND [lECT. X. and more hallowed lips. Returning to our proj^er sphere, it now remains to inquire how praise or censure best may be dispensed. In formal panegyric there are two modes of proceeding, either of which may be adopted, as the circumstances of the case may render expedient. The one may be called biograph- ical, the other ethical panegyric. One proceeds from the object, and the other from the quali- ties. One takes its departure from the person, and the other from the virtue celebrated. The biographical panegyric is the easiest. Its divisions are uniform, and are precisely the same in every subject, to which they are appli- ed. It traces the hero of' the story through his genealogy to the moment of his birth ; accompa- nies him through life ; follows him to the grave, and gathers all the flowers ever scattered on his tomb. The moral panegyric is of more difficult composition. It takes the prominent qualities of the person celebrated for the principal divisions of discourse, and treats them in succession "with- out regard to chronological order. Of these two methods the first has been pursued by Isocrates and Pliny; the last by Cicero. The French fune- ral eulogists endeavour to combine the advantages LECT.X.] DEMONSTRATIVE ORATORY. 247 of both, and exhibit a developement of virtues in succession, corresponding with the order of a bi- ographical narrative. One of the most beautiful examples of panegyric, thus treated, is the fune- ral oration of the duchess of Montausier by Fle- chier. The rules for tlie composition of panegyric are neither numerous nor complicated. The first is a sacred and undeviating regard for truth. But the duties, which truth prescribes, are vari- ously modified under various relations. A mere biographer is bound to divest himself of all par- tiiilities ; to notice the errors and failings, as well as the virtues and achievements of his hero. The obligation of the panegyrist is less rigorous. His purpose is not history but encomium. He is bound to tell the truth. Errors, vices, follies, must not be disguised, nor justified ; but they may be covered with the veil of silence ; and if more than counterbalanced by transcendent mer- its, they may even be extenuated ; a proceeding perfectly consistent with the pure morality of that religion, which teaches, that " charity covereth a multitude of sins." Tlie ancient rhetoricians even allowed pane- gyrical orators the very dangerous indulgence of 248 ARGUMENTS AND [lECT. X« using what they call moral approximation ; and, as all the virtues border ver)^ closely upon corres- ponding vices, diey authorize the speaker of pi-aise or invective to transpose them, or mingle up their colors with the view to cause the one to be mistaken for the other. Aristode formally re- commends the occasional substitution of prudence for timidity ; of sagacity for cunning ; of sim- plicity for duhiess ; of gentleness for indolence ; and he ingeniously reminds his reader, that this transposition will be most advisable, when the vice is only the excess of its correlative virtue. And thus rashness may easily be pruned into valor, and extravagance whitened into generosi- ty. The aspect, in which moral qualities may be considered, is undoubtedly susceptible of great variety ; and nothing falls more frequent^y under our observation in the common occurrences of life, than the different lights, in which the same act is viewed by different eyes. To deny the speaker of panegyric or invective the use of the faculty, which darkens or illumines the canvass of his portraits, would be restriction too severe. He may present the object in the aspect best suited to his purpose, without deviating from the truth. The use of approximation is more questionable. LECT. X.] DEMONSTRATIVE ORATORY. 249 when employed for censure, than for commen- dation ; unmerited reproach being more per- nicious and more odious, than undeserved praise. An example of oratorical approximation in the correspondence between Junius and Sir William Draper is introduced on both sides of the con- troversy ; and refers to a feature in the character of the Marquis of Granby, which one of the writ- ers endeavours to exalt, and the other struggles to degrade.* An impartial observer will per- ceive, that plain fact lay between the two repre- sentations. As efforts of skill, the execution of Junius is far superior to that of his adversary. But it is tinctured with bitter and corrosive passions. Sir William Draper is less pleasing and more amia- ble. Junius is the ablest champion ; Sir William has the fairest cause.. If ever engaged in conti'o- versy, remember that approximation requires at once firmness and pliancy, steady principle and accommodating address. It obtains more indul- gence, used defensively, than offensively ; more excuse, urged by way of attenuation, than of re- proof; more encouragement in amplifying virtues, than in aggravating faults. * Heron's Junius i. p. 57, 51, 59. S2 250 ARGUMENTS AND [lECT, Xk The next rule for the distribution of praise or censure is that it be specific. General enco- mium is the praise of fools. The quality, which a man has in common with many others, is no theme for panegyric or invective. Dwell on all important incidents, exclusively or at least pecu- liarly applicable to the person, of wiiom you speak* Strive rather to excite, than to express admiration ; to exhibit, rather than to proclaim the excellence of your hero, if your theme be praise. If invec- tive, pursue the same process, though with in- verted step. General abuse may discover anger, but not eloquence. The alphabet of demonstra- tive oratory is the same, spelt forward or back- ward. But in descending to specialties, be cau- tious in the selection of circumstances, which ad- mit of paneg}Tic and embellishment. Assume nothing trivial ; applaud nothing really censura- ble; blame nothing really praise- worthy. The value of praise depends much on the character of the panegyrist, and the selection of incidents for remark is the truest test of both the orator and the oration. Amplification is the favorite figure of demon- strative eloquence. The speaker then should pro- ceed from the less to the greater, and make his LECT.X.] DEMONSTRATIVE ORATORY. 251 discourse a continual climax. The ears of men are fastidious to praise. When listening to it, the}' ■are ever prone to slide into the more pleasant sen- sation of ridicule. The orator must suit his dis- course to the disposition of the audience. Praise or dispraise is relative. To conciliate the favor of his auditory is the first task of the orator in ev- ery form of public speaking. To the demonstra- tive orator it is the alpha and omega, the first and the last. The last, though not the least important pre- cept for the composition of these discourses is to moralize the subject ; an art, which requires the most consummate skill. The amusement of the audience, and the celebration of some favorite oc- casion or character, ai^e the immediate purposes of the oration ; but tlie speaker should propose to himself the further and nobler end of urging them to virtuous sentiment and beneficent action. Not by assuming the tone of a teacher ; not by deal- ing out driblets of morality from the whole duty of man ; not by pillaging the primer, or laying the spelling-book under contribution. Your moral sentiment must be pure, to be useful ; it must bear some mark of novelty in the expression or in the modification, to be received ^vithout disgust, and 252 ARGUMENTS &.C. [lECT. X. to leave a deep impression. Hence you will per- ceive, that a profound knowledge of human na- ture, an accurate observation of mankind, and a tliorough knowledge of ethics, or the science of moral distinctions, are among the essential qualifi- cations of the demonstrative orator. In this art of mingling moral sentiment with oratorical splendor, modern eloquence has perhaps equalled that of the ancients ; and the French orators have excelled all other modems. Bossuet and Flechier, in their funeral orations and panegyrics, combine admir- al^le sentiments with ardent panegyric, and irradiate every gem of their eloquence with a lucid beam of instruction. Thus much for the arguments, suited peculiar- ly to demonstrative oratory. My next object will be to give you a view of those, most adapted to the eloquence of deliberation. LECTURE XL DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. TO ascertain the arguments peculiarly suita- ble to each of the three kinds of public speaking, where eloquence may be displayed, we must re- sort to that special principle, which constitutes the distinctive character of the kind. Thus we have seen, that, as show is the essential property of de- monstrative orations, the arguments, best adapted to discourses of that class, arc such as display senti- ment or character. Proceeding in the same track to discover the arguments, which fall within the province of deliberative orator}'^, we are to recol- lect, that the characteristic common measure of this class is utility. Deliberation presupposes a freedom of election in the deliberating body. It 254 DELIBERATIVE ORATORV. [lECT. XI. presupposes alternatives, which may be adopted or rejected. The issue of deUberation is action, and the final determination, what that action shall be, results from a sense of utility or expediency, entertained by the speiiker's audience. The object of the orator then is to persuade his hearers, and to influence their conduct in relation to a future measure. His task is to inspire them with the belief, that the adoption of that, which he recom- mends, or the rejection of that, which he dis- suades, would be useful either to tiie hearers themselves, or to their constituents, whom they represent. It is in deliberative oratory, and in that alone, that eloquence and the art of persuasion maybe considered, as terms perfectly synonymous. De- monstrative orations terminate in themselves. They lead to no vote ; they verge to no verdict. The drift of the discourse is to display the merits of the subject, and the talents of the speaker. He may indeed exercise powers of persuasion, but they are not essential to his task. He has no call to act upon the will of his hearers. Persuasion is not necessarily his aim. Judicial discourses terminate in action ; and in that respect resemble deliberative speeches. But LECT. XI.] DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. 255 the drift of the argument is to justice ; not to util- ity. The aim of the speaker must be to produce conviction, rather than persuasion ; to operate by proof, rather than by influence. The judge or jury, to whom the discourse is addressed, has no choice of alternatives, no freedom of option, like the deliberative body. That which is just, that which is prescribed by law, once discovered and made manifest, he is bound to folloAv. Persuasion therefore does not properly belong to that class of oratory. The judge is to act not under the im- pulse of his will, but of the law. He is the mere minister of justice. He must take the facts according to the proof. He is to presume nothing ; to suppose nothing ; to imagine noth- ing. The orator ought not to address him- self to the inclinations of his auditor, because the auditor has no right to consult tliem him- self. This distinction is much stronger in mod- ern times and in our country, than among the ancients; because our judicial courts are more closely bound to the letter of the law. So then in demonstrative orations the application of the ora- tor's eloquence is only to the opinions of his audi- ence ; in judicial arguments to their judgment : 256 DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. [lECT. XI. but in deliberative discourses directiy to their will. From these observations you will perceive the solid grounds, upon which these divisions were originally made. So different is the nature of public speaking, on these different occasions, that the talents, required to shine in each of them, are different from those, which give excellence in the others. In our own experience we may observe, that the eloquence of the bar, of the legislature, and of public solemnities, are seldom or ever found united to high perfection in the same person. An admirable lawyer is not always a popular speaker in deliberative assemblies ; and a speaker of brill- iant orations often sinks into silence at tlie bar. In the relative estimate of the difficulties and importance of the several kinds of public oratory, Cicero has assigned to judicial eloquence the place of the highest difficulty, and to the eloquence of deliberation that of the highest importance. This arrangement is suited to all republican govern- ments, and indeed to all governments, where the powers of legislation are exercised by a delibera- tive assembly. From the preponderancy of de- mocracy in the political constitutions of our coun- try, deliberative assemblies are more numerous, and LECT. Xl.] DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. 257 the objects of their consideration are more diver- sified, than they ever have been in any other age or nation, froni the formation of a national con« stitution to the management of a turnpike, every object of concern to more than one individual is transacted bv deliberati^'e bodies. National and state conventions for the purpose of forming con- stitutions, tne congress of the United States, the legislatures of the several states, are all delibera- tive assemblies. Besides which, in our part of the country, every town, every parish or religious so- ciety, every association of individuals, incorporat- ed for purposes of interest, of education, of chari- ty, or of science, forms a deliberative assembly, and presents opportunities for the exhibition of de- liberative eloquence. These are scenes, in which your duties, as men or as citizens, will frequently call upon you all to engage. There is only a cer- tain proportion among }ou, who \vill ever have occasion to speak in the courts of justice, or in the sacred desk. Still fewer will ever have the call, or feel the inclination to deliver the formal oration of a public solemnity. But you are all citizens of a free republic ; you are all favored with the most lib- eral and scientific education, which your country can artbrd. That countrv, in her turn, will have a 33 258 DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. [lECT. XI, peculiar claim upon you for the benefit of your counsels ; and either in die selected bodies of her legislatures, or in the general assemblies of the people, will give you opportunities to employ, for her advantage and your o\\'n reputation, every fac- ulty of speech, which you have received, or which you can acquire. The principles of deliberative oratory are im- portant also in another point of view ; inasmuch as they are applicable to the ordinary concerns of life. Whoever in the course of human affairs is called to give advice, or to ask a favor of another, must apply to the same principles of action, as those, which the deliberative orator must ad- dress. The arguments, which persuade an as- sembly, are the same, which are calculated to per- suade an individual ; and in speaking to a delib- erative body the orator can often employ no high- er artifice, than to consider himself as discoursing to a single man. The objects of deliberative eloquence then are almost co-extensive with human affairs. They embrace ever}'^ thing, which can be a subject of advice, of exhortation, of consolation, or of peti- tion. The most important scenes of deliberative oratory however in these states are the congress LECT. XI.] DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. 259 of the union, and the state legislature. The ob- jects of their deliberation affect the interests of individuals and of the nation, in the highest de- gree. In seeking the sources of deliberative ar- gument I shall therefore so modify the rules, gen- erally to be observed, as to bear constant reference to them. They include all the subjects of legis- lation, of taxation, of public debt, public credit, and public revenue ; of the management of pub- lic property ; of commerce; treaties and alUances; peace and war. Suppose yourself then, as a member of a delib- erative assembly, deliberating upon some question, involving these great and important concerns ; de- sirous of communicating your own sentiments, and of influencing the decision of the body you are to address. Your means of persuasion are to be derived from three distinct general sources ; having reference respectively, first to the subject of deliberation ; secondly to the body deliberating ; and thirdly to yourself, the speaker. 1. In considering the subject of deliberation, your arguments may result from the circumstanc- es of legality, of possibility, of probability, of fa- cility, of necessit}', or of contingency. 260 DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. [lECT.XI. The argument of legality must always be modified by the extent of authority, with which the deliberating body is invested. In its nature it is an argument only applicable to the negative side of the question. It is an objection, raised against the measure under consideration, as being contrary to la^v. It can therefore have no weight in cases, where the deliberating body itself has the power of changing the law. Thus in a town meeting it would be a decisive objection against any measure proposed, that it would infringe a law of the state. But in the legislature of the com- monwealth this would be no argument, because that body is empowered to change the law. Again, in the state legislature a measure may be assailed, as contrary to a law of the Union ; and the objec- tion, if well founded, must be fatal to the measure proposed ; though it could have no influence upon a debate in congress. There however the same argument may be adduced in a different form, if the proposition discussed interferes with any stipu- lation by treaty, or with the constitution ot the United States. The argument of illegality there- fore is equivalent to denial of the powers of the de- liberating body. It is of great and frequent use in all deliberative discussions ; but it is not al- LECT. XI.] DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. 261 ways that, which is most readily Hstened to by the audience. Men are seldom inclined to abridge their own authority ; and the orator, who questions the competency of his hearers to act upon the subject in discussion, must be support- ed by proof strong enough to control their in- clinations, as well as to convince their reason. The arguments of possibility and of necessity are those, which first command the consideration of the speaker, whose object is persuasion. Since, if impossiljility on the one hand, or necessit}' on the other, be once ascertained, there is no room left for further deliberation. But, although nothing more can be required for dissuasion, than to shovv'^ that the intended purpose is impracticable, barely to show its possibility can have very little influence in a debate ; and it becomes the province of the speaker to consider its probability and facility ; insisting upon every circumstance, which contrib- utes to strengthen tliese. It is to be remarked, that the task of dissuasion or opposition is much easier to the orator, than that of persuasion ; because for the rejection of a measure it is sufficient to shoM', either that it is impracticable, or inexpedient. But for its adop- tion, both its possibility and its expediency must 262 DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. [lECT.XI. be made to appear. The proposer of the meas- ure must support both the alternatives ; the op- ponent needs only to substantiate one of them. In discussing the probabilities and facilities erf a measure, the speaker often indulges himself in tlie use of amplification, which here consists in the art of multiplying the incidents, favorable to his purpose, and presenting them in such aspects, as to gi^x each other mutual aid and relief. As in the arguments of impossibility and necessity, he borrows from demonstrative oratory the art of ap- proximation, and represents as impossible that, which is only very difficult, or as absolutely neces- sary that, which is of extreme importance. The argument of contingency, or, as it is styl- ed by the ancient rhetoricians, the argument from the event, derives a recommendation of the meas- ure in debate from cither alternative of a suc- cessful issue or of failure. An admirable instance of this kind of argument is contained in that ad- vice of Cai'dinal Wolsey to Cromwell. " Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just and fear not ; Let all the ends, thou aim'st at, be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr." LECT. XI.j DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. 26S 2* With regard to the dehberating body, tliere are two views, in which they must be presented to the speaker's reflections, as accessible to persua- sion ; the motives, by which tliey are to be stimu- lated, and their own manners and character. As motives of persuasion, an orator may address him- self to the sense of duty, of honor, of interest, or of passion ; motives, which I have here arranged according to the comparative weight, which they ought respectively to carr}-, but which in the in- fluence, which they really possess over most delib- erative assemblies, should be ranked in precisely aii inverted order. Of the sense of duty may be observed, wliat I have already said of arguments, pointed against the power of the audience. They are indeed only dift'erent modifications of the same thing. To call upon the auditory to perform a duty is to speak the language of command ; it virtually denies the power of deliberation ; and, although the force and eflicacy of the appeal may be admitted, it is sel- dom listened to with pleasure, and always rather controls, than persuades the will. The most proper and the most powerful argu- ments, which are usually employed for the purpos- es of persuasion, are those, addressed to the sense 264 DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. [lECT. XI, of honor and of interest. But in the choice and •management of these you iu*e to consult in a spe- cial manner the character of your audience ; for one class of men \vill be most powerfully swayed by motives of honor, while another will most read- ily yield to the impulse of interest. " The dis- course must be accommodated," lam now speak- ing the words of Cicero, " not only to the truth, but to the taste of the hearers. Observe then first of all, that there are two different descriptions of men ; the one rude and ignorant, who ah\ ays set profit before honor ; the other polished and civil- ized, who prefer honor to every thing. Urge then to the latter of these classes considerations of praise, of honor, of glory, of fidelity, of justice ; in short of every virtue. To the former present images of gain, of emolument of thrift; nay, in addressing this kind of men, you must even allure them with the bait of pleasure. Pleasure, always hostile to virtue, always corrupting by fraudulent imitation the very nature of goodness herself, is yet most eagerly pursued by the worst of men ; imd by them often preferred not only to every in- stigation of honor, but even to the dictates of ne- cessity. Remember too, that mankind are more anxious to escape evil, than to obtain good ; less LECT. XI.] DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. 265 eager to acquire honor, than to avoid shame. Who ever sought honor, gloiy, praise, or flime of any kind, with the same ardor, that we fly from those most cruel of afflictions, ignominy, contume- ly, and scorn ? Again, there is a class of men, naturally inclined to honorable sentiments, but corrupted by evil education and vitiated opinions. Is it your purpose then to exhort or persuade, remember that the task before you is that of teach- ing how to obtain good, and eschew evil. Are you speaking to men of liberal education, enlarge upon topics of praise and honor ; insist with the keenest earnestness upon those virtues, which con- tribute to the common safety and advantage of mankind. But if }'ou are discoursing to gross, ignorant, untutored minds, to tliem hold up profit, Uicre, money-making, pleasure, and escape from pain. Deter them also by the prospect of shame and ignominy ; for no man, however insensible to positive glory, is made of such impenetrable stuff, as not to be vehemently moved by the dread of in- famy and disgrace." This passage of Cicero, extracted from the dialogue between himself and his son, I recommend to your meditations, as the truly paternal advice of a father to his child. You will find it not only a most useful guide in the 34 266 DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. [lECT. XI. practice of deliberative oratory ; but, if properly- applied, it will furnish you a measure for many. an audience, and many a speaker. It is however proper to remind you, that arguments of interest are in some degree purified of their dross by the constitution of our principal deliberative assem- blies. They are representative bodies. Their measures operate upon their constituents, more tiian upon themselves. The interests, to wliich you appeal in arguing to them, are not their indi- vidual interests, but those of the nation. They are therefore often identified with the more elevat- ed topics of honor ; since to promote the interest of the people is the highest honor of the legislator. This however is sufficiently understood by most of our deliberative orators. As for you, my young friends, whenever you may be called to de- liberate upon the concerns of your country, I trust you will feel, that the honor, as well as the interest of the public, is the object of your pursuit ; and without ever forgetting the sacred regard to the general interest, which becomes a virtuous citizen, you will still perceive the immeasurable distance between those regions of the soul, which are open only to the voice of honor, and those, which are trodden bv the foot of avarice. LECT. XI.] DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. 267 In all numerous assemblies the chaiacters, opinions, and prejudices of die auditors will be va- rious ; a certain proportion of them will belong to each of the classes, enumerated by Cicero. In such cases the deliberative orator will find it ad- viseable to introduce a variety of arguments ; some addressed to the generous, and some to the selfish feelings ; some to the coarsest, and some to the most refined principles of action. But I can- not with Quinctili:ui discuss the question, how fai' an orator may exert his talents of persuasion for base and dishonorable purposes ; or urge his hear- ers to actions, which he himself would detest or despise. In judicial controversies, where the dis- cussion relates to time and actions irretrievably past, it may often be the fortune of the orator to de- fend what he cannot justify; and in the most rig- orous court of justice or of honor, he may say, like Shakspeare's Isabella, " I something do excuse the thing I hate, For his advantage, whom I dearly love." But of deliberative eloquence the first principle is sincerity. No honest man would advise what he cannot approve ; and a counsellor should disdain to recommend that, which he would not join in 268 DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. [lECT. XI. executing himself. And this leads me to the third general head, from which the means of per- suasion are to be drawn in deliberative oratory, the speaker himself. 3. The eloquence of deliberation will necessa- rily take much of its color from the orator himself. He must be careful to suit his discourse to his own character and situation. In early life he may endeavour to make strong impression by the airy splendor of his style, contrasted with the unaffect- ed modesty of his address. If advanced in years, and elevated in reputation and dignity, the gravity of his manner and the weight of sentiment should justly correspond with the reverence, due to his station. It is in deliberative assemblies, more than upon any other stage of public speaking, that the good opinion of his auditoiy is important to the speaker. The demonstrative orator, the law- yer at the bar, derive great advantage from a fair reputation and the good will of their hearers ; but the peculiar province of the deliberative speaker is to advise ; and what possible effect can be ex- pected from advice, where there is no confidence in the adviser. This subject however is so im- portant and so copious, that I shall reserve it for a separate lecture, in which I propose to consider LECT. XI.] DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. 269 those qualities of the heart and of the mind, which are or ought to he best adapted to acquire that be- nevolence of the auditor}^, which is so i)ovvfc-rful an auxiliary to the power of speech. 4t In treating this part of the subject, Aristotle, according to his usual custom, has pursued his train of analysis to its deepest root, and lo its mi- nutest ramification. Assuming, as a fundamental position, that utility, that is the attainment of good or avoidance of evil, is the ultimate object of all deliberation, he proceeds to enumerate a catalogue of every thing, considered as a blessing by human beings. These blessings he divides into two classes ; first of those, universally recognized, and positive ; and second of those, which are only rel- ative, and subject to controversy. Among the former he includes virtue, health, beauty, riches, eloquence, arts, and sciences. Among the latter are the least of two evils ; die contrary to what your enemy desires ; the esteem of the wise ; what multitudes desire ; and specific objects to individual men. The forms of government also modify the prevailing estimate of good and evil. The end of civil go\^ernment, under a democracy, is liberty ; under an oligarchy, property ; under an aristocracy, law ; and under a monarchy, sccu- 270 DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. [lECT. XI. rity. These are all positive blessings for all mankind. But their relative importance is greatly enhanced, where they constitute tlie basis of the so- cial compact. The deliberative orator, whose ap- peal must always be to the sentiments of good and evil, rooted in the minds of his auditory, must al- ways adapt his discourse to that standard measure of the land. The ancient practice of declamation was an ingenious and useful exercise for improving in the art of deliberative oratory. A character and a situation, generally known in history, were assum- ed ; and the task of the declaimer was to compose and deliver a discourse suitable to them. The Greek and Roman historians introduce speeches of this kind in the midst of their narratives; and among them are so many examples of the most admirable eloquence, that we regret the cold accu- racy of modem history, which has discarded this practice, without providing any adequate substi- tute in its stead. As amplification has been said to be the favor- ite resort of demonstrative oratory, the allegation of examples is the most effectual support of delib- erative discourses. There is nothing new under the sun. The future is little more than a copy of LECT. XI.] DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. 271 the past. What hath been shall be again. And to exhibit an image of the past is often to present tlie clearest prospect of the future. The exam- ples, which are adduced successfully by the delib- erative speaker, are of two kinds ; first fictitious inventions of his own, second real events, bor- rowed from historical fact. The first of these arc called by Aristotle fables, and the second para- bles. The fable, which may be invented at the pleasure of the speaker, is more easily applied to his purpose ; but the parable, always derived from matter of fact, makes a deeper impression upon the minds of the audience. In the rude ages of society, and among the uncultivated class of man- kind, the power of fable, and still more of parable to influence the will, is scarcely conceivable upon mere speculative investigation. But it is demon- strated by the uniform tenor of all human expe- rience. The fable of Menenius Agrippa stands conspicuous in the Roman annals. It pacified one of the most dangerous insurrections, which ever agitated that turbulent but magnanimous people. The scriptures of the old testament bespeak the efficacy of these instruments in a manner no less en- ergetic. But their unrivalled triumph is in the propagation of the christian gospel ; whose exalt- 272 DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. (]lECT. XI. ed founder wq are told " needed not that any should testify of man ; fov he knew what was in man;" and who deUvered his incomparable sys- tem of morality altogether through the medium of fables and parables ; both of which in the writ- ings of the evangelists are included in th^ latter term. " And with many parables spake he the word unto them, as they were able to hear it ; but with- out a pai'able spake he not unto them."* The principal feature in the style of delibera- tive oratory should be simplicity. Not that it disdains, but that it has seldom occasion for deco- ration. The speaker should be much more so- licitous for the thought, than for the expression. This constitutes the great difference between the diction proper for this, and that, which best suits the two other kinds of oratory. Demonstrative eloquence, intended for show, delights in ostenta- tious ornament. The speaker is expected to have made previous preparation. His discourse is professedly studied, and all the artifices of speech are summoned to the gratification of the au- dience. The heart is cool for the reception, the mind is at leisure for the contemplation of polish- ed periods, oratorical numbers, coruscations of * Mark, iv. 33. LEGT. XI.] DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. 273 metaphor, profound reflection, and subtle ingenu- ity. But deliberative discussions require little more than prudence and integrity. Even judicial oratoiy supposes a previous painful investigation of his subject by the speaker, and exacts an elabo- rate, methodical conduct of the discourse. But deliberative subjects often arise on a sudden, and allow of no premeditation. Hearers are disincline ed to advice, which they perceive the speaker has been dressing up in his closet. Ambhious orna- ment should then be excluded, rather than sought. Plain sense, clear logic, and above all ardent sen- sibility, these are the qualities, needed by those who give, and tliose who take counsel. A pro- fusion of brilliancy betra}s a speaker more full of himself, than of his cause ; more anxious to be admired, than believed. The stars and ribbands of princely favor may glitter on the breast of the veteran hero at a birth-day ball ; but, exposed to the rage of battle, they only direct the bullet to his heart. A deliberative orator should bury himself in his subject. Like a superintending providence, he should be visible only in his migh- ty works. Hence that universal prejudice, both of ancient and modern times, against written, de- liberative discourses ; a prejudice, which bade 35 274 DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. [lECT. XI. defiance to all the thunders of Demosthenes. In the midst of their most enthusiastic admiration of his eloquence, his countrymen nevertheless remarked, that his orations " smelt too much of the lamp." Let it however be observed, that upon great and important occasions the deliberative orator may be allowed a more liberal indulgence of pre- paration. When the cause of ages and the fate of nations hangs upon the thread of a debate, the orator may fairly consider himself, as addressing not only his immediate hearers, but the world at large; and all future times. Then it is, that, looking beyond the moment, in which he speaks, and the immediate issue of the deliberation, he makes the question of an hour a question for eve- ry age and every region ; takes the vote of un- born millions upon the debate of a little senate, and incorporates himself and his discourse with the general history of mankind. On such occa- sions and at such times, the oration naturally and properly assumes a solemnity of manner and a dignity of language, commensurate with the gran- deur of the cause. Then it is, that deliberative eloquence lays aside the plain attire of her daily occupation, and assumes the port and purple of LECT. XI.] DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. 275 the queen of the world. Yet even then she re- members, that majestic grandeur best comports with simphcity. Her crown and sceptre may blaze with the brightness of the diamond, but she must not, like the kings of the gorgeous east, be buried under a shower of barbaric pearls and gold. LECTURE XII. JUDICIAL ORATORY. h4!H IN the two last lectures, which I delivered from this place, I considered the two classes of public orations, usually denominated the demon- strative and the delil^erative ; pointed out their peculiar characteristics; the ends, to which they are severally directed ; and the arguments, espe- cially suited to them. Demonstrative oratory, I in- formed you, was that species of public speaking, which consists of discourses, formally prepared, and delivered in celebration of some person or public event. I observed tliat, whether in the form of such public orations, or introduced inci- dentally into discourses of business deliberative or judicial, it included all panegyric and invective. 278 JUDICIAL ORATORY. [lECT. XII. Tliat praise or censure was its ultimate object ; honor and shame the hinges, upon which it re- volved. That demonstration in rhetoric bears a meaning xer}' different from demonstration in matlicmatics. That the demonstration of a pane- gyric is by no means the demonstration of a the- orem. The one is incontrovertible proof; the other is the breath of fame. Thus, originating from the same source, the signification of the word is modified by the science, to which it ap- plies, until in Euclid it conveys the idea of irre- fragable proof; in Quinctilian, that of oratorical display. Here a solid substance ; there an insub- stantial pageant. Of deliberati\'e orator}^ I remai'ked, that the final purpose was utility. That its relation was always to future time ; its issue a measure to be adopted or rejected ; and the subjects within its competency, under our fornns of government, the most important and extensive of any, in which or- atory can be concerned. The difference between deliberative and judicial oratory, of which I am now particularly to speak, is, in relation to the ob- jects of which it treats, the difference ])etween time future and time past. Judicial oratory man- ages the litigation of causes public or private, LECT. XII.] JUDICIAL ORATORY. 279 civil or criminal, in the courts of justice. In oth- er words it is the eloquence of the bar. In delivering the precepts of demonstrative and deliberative oratory, little more was necessary than to form a selection, and ai'range into a system the rules, prescribed by the great rhetoricians of an- tiquity. The nature, the character, the purpose of discourses, belonging to these classes, are pre- cisely the same in the present, as in former ages ; in our own country, as at Athens and Rome. Not so of judicial oratory. The fundamental princi- ples, upon which a judicial cause must be manag- ed at this time, are as different, as the institutions and the forms of proceeding, under which it aris- es ; and, in order safely to apply any part of the doctrines of the ancient rhetoricians to our own usages and practices, it will first be necessary to indicate die difference between their judicial insti- tutions and modes of process and ours. Now the common standard of all judicial argu- ments, according to Aristotle, Cicero, and Quinc- tilian, is justice, or equity ; which was to be measured sometimes by the written laws, and sometimes by natural reason, independent of posi- tive prescription ; and sometimes even in contra- diction to it. The tribunals of the Greeks and 280 JUDICIAL ORATORY. [lECT. XII. Romans consisted of persons, who were judges bodi of the fact and of the law. They also exer- cised a sort of dispensing power, and could ex- empt a piuty from the operation of the written law in cases, when that was deemed to act too rigor- ously, and to interfere with the dictates of natural equity. Something of a similar nature is still cus- tomary among us in the courts of chancery ; in- stitutions originally borrowed from the Roman law, and still governed in a great measure by the principles, established in the code of Justinian. But the powers of our chancery courts are confin- ed within very narrow limits. In this common- wealth they are admitted only within the extent of jurisdiction, allotted to the courts of the union, and are excluded from the coguizance of all criminal cases whatsoever. The courts of common law, before which almost all our judicial controversies are tried, consist not of a single, but of a double tribunal ; the judge or judges, who are author- ized to decide all questions of law, and the jury, who pronounce upon e\'ery question of fact. Hence arises a division of the subject altogether different from that of the ancient rhetors. Instead of inquiring whether his cause rests upon a state of conjecture, of definition, of quantity, or of qual- LECT.XII.] JUDICIAL ORATORY. 281 ity, the American lawyer must ascertain whether he is to try an issue in fact, or an issue in law ; a distiriction not only much more clear, but much more important, since the issue in fact is to be argu- ed before a jury, and the issue in law before the judges ; tribunals differently constituted ; consist- ing of persons different in station, in character, in powers ; accessible to arguments of different de- scriptions ; and swayed only by one inviolable common control, the written law. The whole man- agement of the cause and the nature of all the tes- timonies vary according to the course, which it as- sumes, of requiring the determination by the ver- dict of the jury, or by the opinion of the court. Let it however be remarked, because it is a consideration of material importance to the judi- cial orator, that this di\'^ision of powers between the judges and the jury ^vas made by the common law, not so clearly, nor with a definition of boun- daiies so precise, as to leave these authorities un- controverted. In England, the country where the common law, together with this system of ju- dicial proceedings, originated, and even in our own countr}-, there have been very sharp disputes how far the authority of the court and jury re- specti\'ely extend, and where is the line of separa- 36 282 JUDICIAL ORATORY. [lECT. XII. tion between! them. The ancient maxim of the common law was explicit ; ad questionem juris respondent judices ; ad questionem facti juratores. But in the administration of criminal justice espe- cially it was not so easy to separate the question of law from that of fact, as to say, that they should be tried by different persons. In all trials for crimes the guilt or innocence of the party depends upon the application of the law to the fact ; and, when a jury by their verdict pronounce a man guilty, they not only determine the fact, which he has commit- ted, but also the law, by which that fact is made to constitute guilt. In all general verdicts therefore the jury pro- uiounce both upon the fact and the law. On the other hand, after the cause has been argued by the parties or their counsel to the jury, the judges are in the constant practice of addressing the jury, and stating to them the law, with its application to the facts upon trial. In this part of the judge's duty it is as difficult for him to confine himself exclusive- ly to the consideration of the law, as it is for a ju- ry, without implicating a decision of the law, to pronounce a party guilty. The judge explains to the jury the injunctions of the law upon a given state of facts ; and to make his discourse pertinent LECT. XII.] JUDICIAL ORATORY. 283 it must be that identical state of facts, upon which they are to decide. Ho^v then can he speak the dictate of the law, without intimating his opin- ion of the fact ? The obstacle is inherent in the nature of the thing ; and the division of powers between judge and jury, professed by the com- mon law, is not always practicable. Thus^ fai' however the lawyer has an unequivocal rule for the management of his cause. If any question of fact is involved in the controversy, the cause must go to the ]\iry. But if die parties have no dispute upon the facts, and their contest is merely upon die operation of the law, it is within the ex» elusive province of the judge. Hence the parties often have it at their option, whether they will take a trial by the court, or by the jurj- ; and there are certain forms of pleading, suited to produce an issue in law ; and others, which are adapted to an issue in fact. This system of pleas and pleadings, of which in a former lecture I have taken some notice, em- braces in substance the whole code of the com- mon law. Of its importance to those of you, who are destined hereafter to the profession of the law, it were needless for me to speak here at large, as it will occupy a great portion of your time and studr 284 JUDICIAL ORATORY. [lECT. XII. ies, after you shall take your leave of tlie universi- ty, as pupils. But it is strictly witiiin the prov- ince of these lectures to mark its operation upon the eloquence of tlie bar, and to consider it, as one of the causes, which contribute to render all the precepts of ancient rhetoric so inapplicable to the practice of our judicial courts. The forms of process, both civil and criminal, among the ancients were very simple and very general. In the accusation against Verrcs Cicero makes an apology to the judges for passing over the licentious debaucheries of that offender's youth; intimating, that their turpitude was so shocking, that he could not describe them without violating his own modesty. Then, addressing himself to the culprit, he says, " fourteen years have elapsed, since you, Verres, held the office of quaestor. From that day to this I put in judg- ment every thing you have done. Not an hour of your life through that whole period will be found unpolluted by some theft ; some baseness ; some cruelty ; some villany. During those years you successively disgraced the offices of quaestor, of delegate in Asia, of praetor in the city, and of praetor in Sicily. From the functions of these several public stations will arise the fourfold distri- LECT. XII.] JUDICIAL ORATORY. 285 bution of my whole accusation." From this pasr. sage it is apparent, that under a general impeach- ment the whole life, public and private, of the party charged was open to scrutiny. So tiiat the accuser might prove against him whatever he pleased to consider as an offence, civil, political, or moral. From the oration for Muraena tlie infer- ence may with equal certainty be drawn, that die forms of pleading in civil causes were substantiid- ly not more difficult nor complicated. Cicero speaks of them with contempt ; derides diem as a compilation of verbose and unmeaning pedantry ; and affirms, that amidst the multiplicity of busi- ness, with which every hour of his life was load- ed, he would undertake to make himself, in three days, a perfect master of the whole science. And from some specimens, which he introduces in his argument, it is apparent, that the same identical forms were susceptible of adaptation to every case, and that the whole compass of legal controversy was reducible to one common rubric. This looseness in the system of pleadings still continues to characterize the proceedings in the courts, founded upon the principles and governed by the doctrines of the civil law. It was diametri- cally opposite to the whole spirit and tenor of tlic 286 JUDICIAL ORATORY. [lECT.XII. common law. By the original genius of tlie com- mon la\v a great proportion of every trial, civil or criminal, consisted of the pleadings. Kvery charge must be precise, specific, single. The vi- olation of law must be alledged in terms as con- cise and unequivocal, as human wit could devise. Every fact must be narrated with the minutest ac- curacy of time, place, and circumstance. The answer must be drawn up with the same logical acuteness. Every fact, charged in violation of law, must be met by a direct denial, in terms ex- pressly adapted to the nature of tlie charge. Eve- ry accusation in vague or general terms, unsup- ported by positive law, must be repelled by an ap- peal to the judge, whether the party was bound to answer. The issue consisted of a single question, either of fact for the decision of the jury, or of law for the determination of the judge. In process of time however, as the increase of commercial intercourse multiplied the sources of litigation, this extreme strictness in the forms of the common law became often inconvenient and troublesome. The hedges of special pleading were found sometimes to obstruct the avenues to truth. The excess of caution sometimes opened to chi- canery the door, which it closed upon justice. A LECT. XII.] JUDICIAL ORATORY. 287 multitude of suitors were driven to seek redress in the chancery courts ; the pliancy of \vhose forms was more easily accommodated to the complicat- ed transactions of commerce. Hence arose a con- flict of jurisdictions between the courts of common law and of chancery ; and, although the former eventually maintained their ascendency, they grad- ually relaxed from the rigor of their system of pleading, and by tlie invention of various legal fic- tions assimilated their forms of process in a multi- tude of cases to those of the civil or Roman law. The late Lord Mansfield, ^^ ho for a long series of years presided alternately in the chancer}-' and in the highest common law court of England, went so far towards affecting a complete revolution in the doctrine of pleadings, that his successors have found it expedient to retrace many of his steps. In our own country tlie prejudices against chance- ry courts have been much stronger, than they ever were in England. They were altogether excluded from the jurisprudence of this state before the rev- olution, and until the judiciary system of the Unit- ed States obtained for them a partial admission. But the common law doctrine of pleadings has oc- casionally been modified by our local statutes, and by the practice of the bar. And the enlargements, 288 JUDICIAL ORATORY. [lECT. XIl. ^vhich Lord Mansfield opened to the British plead- ers, have generally been imitated in our courts. But all the common law maxims of pleading still remain in full force and unimpaired in all cases of criminal prosecutions. Their operation indeed generally affects only the accuser. The defend- ent, or prisoner at the bar, is never perplexed with any subtleties of pleading. A simple decla- ration, that he is not guilty, termed the general is- sue, reserves to him every advantage of defence, which he can derive from the facts or the law. But the prosecutor cannot advance a step without a written accusation, penned with the most scru- pulous, technical accuracy. There is no possibili- ty of putting in judgment every thing, that a man has done for fourteen- years. No prosecutor would be suffered, upon a charge of malversation in office, to rake up the rankness of a dissolute youth for the purpose of heaping the measure of opprobrium upon the prisoner. Had the judges upon the trial of Verres possessed powers, circumscribed within the limits of our institutions, almost all the elo- quence of Cicero would have been not merely su- perfluous, but inadmissible. The official misde- meanors would have been cognizable by one tri- bunal ; the private wrongs by another ; the thefts LECT. XII.] JUDICIAL ORATORY. 289 and acts of cruelty by a third ; and in all, every in- fraction of right must have been charged in lan- guage, stripped of every blossom of oratory by an article of impeachment, a writ of trespass, or an in- dictment. These written accusations would have marked the limits, within which all his evidence and all his argument must have been confined. Like the stakes and floating buojs, which edge the nar- row channel of an expansive but shallow river, they would have continually reminded him, that he could not proceed a foot beyond them without stranding. Not a witness could he have called to any offence, not specified in the pleadings. Not a word could he without rebuke have uttered, un- connected with his allegations and his proofs. Had he lifted his torch upon tlie midnight revels of his adversary's bo3ish days, some learned judge would have told him, that those scenes might be left to their own darkness. Had he apostrophized the Alban groves, and lakes, and fountains, he would have been stopped by a hint from the bench, that he was traveling out of the record. While the shackles of pleading thus restrain the excursive powers of oratory on the part of the prosecution, those of the defendant, or party ac- cused, are scarcely less cramped by another limit- 37 ^90 JUDICIAL ORATORY. [lECT. Kit. ation of our judicial authorities. The judges of ancient times had not only the powers of deciding both upon the law and the fact ; they also exer- cised a sort of dispensing power ; or rather the power of pardoning offences was accumulated up- on that of inflicting punishment. This power of pardon has in our country been most carefully sep- arated from the judicial functions, and vested ex- clusively in the executive government. Among th^ ancients the judges had before them not only the question, whether the accused was guilty or innocent ; but the subsequent question, how far his punishment should be aggi'avated or mitigated; and A\'hether it should be inflicted or remitted. This discretionary power of determining the degree of punishment was even paramount to the written and positive law; a striking exam- ple of which we have in the sentence, passed and executed upon the accomplices of Catiline. The law was clear and express, that no Ro- man citizen should be punished with death. Yet the associates of Catiline were executed by a decree of the senate. The question, w^hether they should suffer death, or only perpetual imprison- ment with confiscation of their estates, was ear- nestly debated in senate. The fourth of what are LECT. XII.] JUDICIAL ORATORY. 291 called Cicero's orations against Catiline is upon this question ; and in Sallust you have read the speeches of Caesar and of Cato upon the same oc- casion. From this latitude of discretion in the powers of the court we perceive the foundation of all tliose appeals to the passions of the judges, so earnestly recommended by the precepts of Cicero, and so often exemplified in his practice. Hence it was, that every man under accusation was ex- pected to throw himself upon the compassion of his judges ; to assume the garb of mourning ; to apply for the countenance and solicitations of his friends ; to exhibit his family in the agonies of distress ; and to count upon the tears of his infant children among his most powerful means of de- fence. But our courts of justice possess neither the power of aggravating nor of remitting a punish- ment. Guilty or not guilty is the only question for the determination of the jury upon criminal prosecutions ; and this question they ai*e solemnly sworn to decide according to the evidence. When dieir verdict is delivered, their functions are at an end. The punishment of the offender is not with- in their province. The sentence is awarded by the judges, to whom in this respect some discre- $02 JUDICIAL ORATROY. [lECT. XII. tioiiary power is entrusted, in cases less than capi- tal, to proiX)rtion the penalty to the degree of the olFcncc. But even this discretion is very scantily bestowed. In all cases of life and death, and in many others, the judges are merely the living voices of the law ; empowered barely to pronounce the decree, which that has prepared before the com- mission of a crime. The administration of pub- lic justice is in substance a strict logical syllogism, of which the written law forms the major propo- sition, the verdict of the jury the minor, and the sentence of the court the conclusion. Every man, guilty of treason, shall be put to death, says the written law, A. B. is guilty of treason, says the verdict of the jury ; therefore, says the sentence of the court, A. B. shall be put to death. This distribution of the judicial powers be- tween judge and jury, together with this separation of the dispensing or pardoning power from both, affords a copious and a profitable subject of reflec- tion to the legal student, and to the philosophical inquirer into the organization and principles of our government. It is a distribution and division perhaps as important to the liberties of a nation, as the separation of the legislative and executive pow- ers, and the division of the former between two LECT. XII.] JUDICIAL ORATORY. 293 assemblies. But in the light, in which I now con- sider it, I am barely to point out its necessary ef- fect upon judicial eloquence ; and you will imme- diately perceive, that it cuts up by the roots all the precepts of ancient rhetoric, which place the per- fection of the art in the address, with which the or- , ator assails tlie passions of the judge. It calls for a management of causes upon principles not mere- ly different, but opposite to those of antiquity. The common standard of judicial arguments is no longer natural justice or equity, but positive law. The first fountains of the art are no longer the same. It is indeed true, that this difference is much greater in criminal, than in civil jurisprudence. An estimate of damages for a breach of contract, a settlement of accounts between merchants, the mere controversies of bargain and sale, are deter- minable in all ages and nations upon nearly the same principles ; and in the very ftw orations of Greece and Rome, still extant, of this description, there is little, which might not with equal proprie- ty be said in a modern court of justice. And yet, if a modem lawyer were to open an argument to a court, as Cicero begins his oration for Quinctius, by observing, that the personal influence of the n -94 JUDICIAL ORATORY. [lECT. XII. suitor and the eloquence of his counsel were the two principal sources of success, he would run a great risk of a severe reprimand from the bench. If an American barrister should undertake by an elaborate argument to prove, that the Abbe Delille Avas a citizen of the United States, because he was an excellent French poet, if all the muses should • combine to compose his oration, not five senten- ^ ces of it would he be suffered to deliver. Yet ex- amine that inimitable, that immortal oration for Archias, and amidst that unbounded blaze of elo- quence, with which it beams, observe the nucleus of argument, upon which it revolves. Archias was a Roman citizen, because he was a Greek po- et. Were a counsellor in the courts of these states to start a train of reasoning like this, tke judges would instantly ancst the career of his or- ator}% by calling for the certificate of naturaliza- tion. Yet we are not to conclude, that judicial elo- quence is to be excluded from the systems of mod- ern rhetoric. Restricted and limited, as the orator at the bar must now be, there is yet an unmeasured difference between speaking well and ill on a judi- cial trial. If there is less room for powerful ad- dresses to the passions of the judges, there is more L£CT. XII.] JUDICIAL ORATORY. 295 necessity for convincing their understandings. The success of a suitor does not depend upon the eloquence of his counsel ; but his failure may fol- low from the want of it. Oratory will not prove so often the victorious auxiliary to a bad cause ; but it will be an equally necessary aid to a good one. I have thought it necessary to lay open to your minds the primary causes, which make it necessa- ry to vary the very principles ol judicial orator}' from those transmitted by our ancient teachers. Many of their precepts however, in detail, may still be used to great advantage. In a subsequent lecture I shall notice those of tlieir instructions, which are still susceptible of adoption or modifica- tion, and suggest some further observations res- pecting the course, to be pursued in judicial causes tinder our own institutions. LECTURE XIII. JUDICIAL ORATORY. FROM the tenor of my preceding lectures you must have collected, that, while the principles of demonstrative and deliberative oratory arc the same in every age and countr}"-, where the art is practised, those of judicial eloquence must be va- ried and modified by the laws and judicial institu- tions of the time and place. The importance of this idea must plead my apology for dwelling widi earnestness upon its developement, for tecurring again to it at this time, and for presenting it, with the hope of giving it additional illustration, under another point of view to your reflections. Observe then, that demonstrative and delibera- tive oratory are not of necessity connected with anv 38 1298 JUDICIAL ORATORY. [lECT. XIII, particular social institutions. The subjects of panegyric, of invective, or of deliberation, are in- deed diversified under different forms of govern- ment, but do not necessarily result from them. An eulogy or a philippic may be pronounced by an individual of one nation upon the subject of another. Deliberation may occur between per- sons, bound by no social compact together. Civil or political institutions may incidentally be the subjects, but are not of the essence of such dis- courses. Praise, censure, exhortation, and ad- vice, are dispensed and bestowed by man, as a ra- tional being, to his fellow creature, endowed with the same faculty. The Greeks and Romans, as we have seen, allowed much of the same latitude to their municipal tribunals. But under our im- proved theories of natural and social rights posi- tive institution is the indispensable ingredient of all judicial discourse. The whole amount of every trial can be neither more nor less, than a conflict between law and transgression. To try a man by the laws of one nation for an offence against the laws of another would be at once the extreme of oppression and the height of absurdity. The common standard then, by which all judicial argu- ment must be measured, is law ; the whole drift of LECT. XIII.] JUDICIAL ORATORY. 299 an advocate's eloquence, to display the conformity between the cause of his client and the law ; the whole purpose of a prosecutor, to vindicate its vi- olation ; the whole defence of innocence, to dis- prove its infringement. Now the particulars in our judicial institutions of the most material importance to the forensic speaker are three. 1. The division of all offences against the laws into public and private \vrongs ; Math the conse- quent distinction between courts of criminal and civil jurisdiction. 2. The division of public wrongs into two classes ; personal ^vrongs, which may be commit- ted by every man, as an individual ; and official crimes or misdemeanors, committed by public of- ficers, and triable by impeachment. And 3. The division of powers, mentioned in my last lecture, between the judges and jury, in the course of ordinary jurisdiction ; and the separa- tion of the power of pardoning offences from both. 1. Under our state of society every individual is entitled to certain rights, recognised and defined by the original social compact, or by the laws, en- acted under it. It is the primary object of civH 300 JUDICIAL ORATORY. [lECT. XIII. society and of government to protect every indi- vidual in the enjoyment of tliesc rights. Some of them are of such magnitude, that their support and vindication are cxckisively retained in tlie hands of the body pohiic itself, while others are secured to the individual only by a pledge of as- sistance from the public authority, whenever its aid may be found necessary. Such is die distinc- tion, so well known to all lawyers, between pri- vate and public wrongs; the private wrong consisting of the violation only of the right of indi- viduals ; the public wrong, in an outrage upon the rights of the whole political society. Thus a breach of promise, a non-payment of debt, or a disputed title to land, is barely a private wrong, for the redress of which the injured party is authoriz- ed to call upon the powers of government ; but which he must first prove by suit in his own name, and at his own risk, before the competent tribunals. But treason, robbery, murder, theft, and all those oflences, which are included under the denominar tion of crimes and misdemeanors, are of so much importance to the whole society, that, although the direct injury, committed by them, often affects only an individual, the cause is adopted, as that of the nation ; and the punishment of the offender is LECT. XIII.] JUDICIAL ORATORY. 301 prosecuted in the name of the sovereign. Hence the distinction between the civil and criminal ju- risdiction of our courts ; a distinction sedulously to be remembered by the judicial orator, because, although these jurisdictions are among us united in our highest courts, yet there are difterent rules of evidence, diftbrentmaximsof law, and difterent modes of practice, established in them. Under the civil jurisdiction the cause is brought forward by th6 party, and is called an action ; under the criminal jurisdiction it is prosecuted by the gov- ernment. In civil causes the controversy is only between two or more individuals, the plaintiff and the defendant. In criminal causes it is between the public on one side, and the person accused on the other. The right of action must be pursued by the individual himself, or by his agents. The public wrong is not entrusted to the pursuit of any individual. Select bodies of men are from time to time appointed, whose task it is to inquire into all such offences, committed in their vicinity, and to present them to the competent courts for trial. The accusation is drawn up under the name of an indictment, and is managed by a permanent public officer. The person accused is then arraigned, and usually pleads, that he is not guilty of the of- .102 JUDICIAL ORATORY. [lECT. XIII, fence, chaigcd against him ; and by this answer he makes it necessary for the attorney general, or person conducting the prosecution, to prove both the law and the facts. If the accusation fail in the proof of either, the accused must be discharged. The influence of these particulars in our judi- cial institutions upon the eloquence of the bar will be most readily discerned, by recurring to the in- structions of the ancient rhetoricians for the man- agement of judicial argument, and observing what would now be their application. They make no distinction between causes of civil and of criminal jurisdiction. Their rules and precepts are all calculated for the management of criminal prosecution or defence ; and they tell us, that all the necessary variations upon the conduct of civil causes will be so obvious to the practition- er, that they need not to be specially indicated. In our courts so great is the difference between these two descriptions of cases, that the same rules, which would be prescribed for the one, must be proscribed for the other ; and the same practice would appear on one side in the form of injunc- tion, on the other in that of prohibition. Thus for example Quinctilian lays it down, that, in discussing the state of conjecture upon a LECT. XIII.] JUDICIAL ORATORY. 303 question, wliether the party accused is guilty of the crime, charged against him, the course of in- quiry will be directed to tliree distinct points ; the will, the power, and the fact ; that is, that the nat- ural division of the prosecutor's argument must be to prove, first, tliat the accused had die will to commit the offence ; secondly, that he had the power ; and thirdly, that he actually did commit it. The means of investigating the first of these points, the will, are largely discanted upon by Quinctilian. The object was to scrutinize the motives of the inculpated party ; to pry into his general impulses to action, resulting either from personal character or from special inducement. Thus, if a man was accused of murder, his prose- cutor was to labor in the first instance to establish the belief, that his i^ersonal character was bold, rash, violent, cruel ; that he was addicted to turbulent and angry passions ; or that his interest was liable to be promoted by the result of the act The argument, derived from interest, was indeed deemed so forcible, that we leai'n from Cicero, it was a general salvo for all deficiencies of other ev- idence in the practice of a celebrated Roman judge, whose only question to ascertain the criminal in all doubtful cases was, cui bono ; ^vho was to be ^304 JUDICIAL ORATORY. [lECT. XIII. esition to his o^vn 334 ELOQUENCE OF [lECT. XIV. judgment. The explanation and elucidation of the scriptures thus become one of the most ar- duous and important duties of the protestant preacher ; a duty, which he can discharge only by enlightening tlie understandings of his people. In order to test the correctness of this French system of sermonizing, and to show that it is adapt- ed only to the practice of an infallible church, let us attend only to those classes of subjects for the disquisitions of the pulpit, which are among the most suitable for a protestant divine, but which become useless and improper, where they are prescribed, as undeniable articles of faith. If the end of the preacher's discourse is the happiness of his heai*ers both in this and the fu- ture life, by means of their improvement in knowledge and virtue, that portion of the duty, which consists in the communication of knowl- edge, must of necessity be addressed to the hearers' reason. The faith of the protestant layman must often depend upon the degree of information, which he may receive from his religious instruct- er. The existence and attributes of the Deity, the nature and innnortality oi the soul, the doc- trine of future rewards and punishments, the evi- dences of revealed religion, the peculiar character LECT. XIV.] THE PULPIT. 335 of its precepts, a comparison of its system of mor- als with those of the Chinese, Indian, Persian, .Eg3'ptian, Greek, and Arabian legislators and philosophers, an internal comparison between the Mosaic and Christian dispensations, or in other words between the principles of the law and those of the gospel, these are all themes, upon which the protestant teacher may and ought freely to ex- patiate for the improvement of his hearers in knowledge. But they admit of no discussion, where the preacher himself and all his flock are compelled to believe whatever has been j^rescrib- ed to them on these all important questions, and have no further to look for their creed, than to the decisions of tue church. A Roman catholic be- lieves in the existence of a God, in the immortiili- ty of his own soul, and in a future state of retribu- tion, because the holy church has told him they ai'c articles of faith. But he is not allowed to ask the reason why. A protestant is told to believe these fundamental points of religion, because upon ex- amination he will find them as satisfactorily prov- ed to his reason, as he will discover them to be important to his happiness. Now the evidences of these primary principles are not obvious to eve- ry mind. They are liable to numerous and plan- 336 ELOQUENCE OF [lECT. XIV silDle objections. Not only the thoughtless and the profligate, but shallow reasoners and philo- sophical dogmatists dispute and deny them. The wolves of infidelity are prowling around every fold. Surely under such a state of things it is the duty of the pastor to guard his flock by every kind of security. It is as much his duty to detect the sophistical semblance of reason, as to repel the impetuous onset of the passions. These three articles form the basis of what is called natural religion ; and the belief in them does not always imply that of Christianity. This is barely a question of evidence, which in this, as in all other objects of controversy, is partly exter- nal and partly internal. When the truth of tlie christian revelation is contested, it becomes the minister of the gospel not only to be able to give a reason for the faith that is in him, but to furnish those of his hearers, less qualified to search into the depths of such inquiries, with a reason equally sat- isfactory to themselves. When both these difficulties at the threshold of religious persuasion have been removed, when the atheist and the deist have both been silenced, and the firm belief in divine revelation is estab- lished, then the volume of sacred inspiration is LECT. XIV.] THE PULPIT. 337 opened before the preacher, and it is his duty to make it profitable to his hearers for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in right- eousness. The field here opened to the protest- ant divine is inexhaustible. To the Roman cath- olic preacher it is never opened at all. For with what propriety could he reason to his audience from a book, which they are not permitted to read? In making these observations it is not my de- sign either to pass a censure upon any prevailing system of Christianity, or to question the correct- ness of the French theory of pulpit eloquence, as adapted to the church, where it originated ; but to caution those of you, who may hereafter as- sume the pastoral ofHce, against the implicit adop- tion of the critical creed of the French school, which the recent English theorists have too much countenanced. A protestant divine, who looks upon his pulpit merely as a chair for the delivery of moral lectures, or a stage to work upon the pas- sions of his auditory, as at a theatrical representa- tion, has a very inadequate idea of his duties and of his powers. The earnest and ardent inculca- tion of moral duties is undoubtedly one of the es- sential obligations of the preacher; and in dis- 43 338 ELO(^UENCE OF [lECT. XIV. charging it he is bound to lay hold of every hope and every fear, that can influence the heart of man. But to enlighten the mind is one of the most ef- fectual means of amending the heart ; and the so- cieties of christians, who place themselves under the ministration of a spiritual monitor, have a right to expect, that he should consider and treat them as rational, no less than as sensitive beings. Let not the youthful candidate for the minis- try entertain an idea too contracted of the functions, to which he aspires. Let him be deeply impress- ed with the principle, that his task in the pulpit will be to enlighten ignorance and to refute error, as well as to reclaim from vice and exhort to vir- tue. Let him not consider the celebrated French preachers or their English imitators, as furnishing the only proper models for the composition of a sermon. By enlarging the number and the na- ture of the topics, upon which he shall discourse, he will find his own duties more easy to discharge, and his people will be more extensively benefitted by his labors. In discussing topics of doctrine or of controversy the more ancient writers of Eng- lish sermons will be more instructive guides, than those of recent date. From the frequency of the occasions he will have to address his people, he lECT. XIV.] THE PULPIT. 339 cannot too much diversify both the matter and the manner of his discourses. In adapting the subjects of his sermons to the occasions and the audience the preacher must be governed by circumstances and by his own situa- tion. The same disquisition, which might be sea- sonable and judicious before one auditory, would be worse than useless before another. Even the discourses of the moral and practical class ought to be diversified according to the time and place of their delivery. There are certain errors and vices more congenial to one state of society than to another. The inhabitants of populous cities are exposed to temptations and allured by oppor- tunities to transgressions, different from those most incident to rural and sequestered regions. Diifer- ent situations in life are prone to different offences. The rich and the poor, the ignorant and the learn- ed, the ploughman and the mariner, the aged and the young ; each is addicted to the sin, which most easily besets him, from which the others are more usually exempt. The divine is in some degree in - vested with the functions of the censor among the ancient Romans. He has indeed no authorit}' to punish the offender ; but it is his right and his du- ty to reprove the offence. 540 ELO(^UENCE OF [lECT. XIV« From the imperfect and transient view of pul- pit speaking, wiiich I have here taken, you will perceive, that it includes witliin itself the princi- ples of iill the ancient classes of oratory. For the discussion ol doctrines, its process must assume all the characters of judicial investigation. In manifesting the praise of the Supreme Creator, or unfolding the loveliness of that moral virtue, in Avhich he delights, the displays of demonstrative eloquence can be limited only by the finite powers of the human imagination; while those addresses to the heart, which exhort to the practice of virtue^ and urge the sinner to repentance, are niarked with the features oi deliberation. In point of form it is preciselj' the same, as the demonstrative oration. The speaker stands alone, subject to no contradiction, and in undisputed possession of the whole field. His discourse may be extemporaneous, or previously written, at his option. The practice varies among different de- nominations of christians, and among individuals of the same denomination. There are advantages and inconveniences, inherent in each of these modes of address ; and the preference of the one to the other ought perhaps to be decided rather by the character of the preacher's talents, than by LECT. XIV.] THE PULPIT. 341 any rule of uniformity. There is a force, an in- terest, an energy, in extemporaneous discourse, " warm from the soul and faithful to its fires," which no degree of meditation can attain or sup- ply. But the stream, which flows spontaneous, is almost always shallow, and runs forever in the same channel. The talent of speaking well with- out preparation is rare, and that of uttering fluent nonsense, so often substituted in its stead, though far from being uncommon, is not so well adapted to the oratory of the pulpit, as to that of the forum or of die bai'. Amidst the infinite variety of human capacities there are some, vrhose floods of elo- quence are more rich, more copious, more rapid, rushing from the lofty surface of unpremeditated thouglit, than drawn from the deepest fountains of study. But the productions of ordinary minds are improved by reflection, and brought to maturity by labor. The preacher should endeavour just- ly to estimate his own faculties, and according to their dictates prepare his written discourse, or trust to the inspiration of the moment. The tal- ent of extemporal speaking may suffice for the or- dinary duties of the preacher, but the sermon, des- tined to survive its hour of delivery, must always be previously written. LECTURE XV. INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL QUALITIES OF AN ORATOR. AT an early period of this course, in pointing out the several sources of invention it was observ- ed, that they were to be derived, first from the subject of the discourse ; secondly from the speaker; and thirdly from the audience. The materials for invention, which can be supplied by the subject, have been now fully considered ; as well those, which belong to all the classes of ora- tory in common, as those more distinctly suitable to the demonstrative, deliberative, judicial, or pul- pit eloquence apart. It is now time to fix our at- tention upon the speaker himself, and to inquire what resources for the success of his cause he 544 (QUALITIES OF [lECT. XV. may be enabled to derive from his own personal character and address. There are three particulars in the character of an orator, which may naturally and essentially af- fect the success of his eloquence. They ai*e man- ifested by the qualities of the heart, the endow- ments ot the understanding, and the dispositions of the temper ; of which I propose to speak succes- sively in the order here assigned them, according to my estimate of their relative importance. The first and most precious quality then, which contributes to the success of a public speak- er, is an honest heart ; a sentiment which I wish above all others may be impressed with indelible force upon your minds. On a former occasion I freely acknowledged my own opinion, that the maxim, upon which the ancient rhetoricians, and especially Quinctilian, so emphatically insisted, that none but an honest man could possibly be an ora- tor, was not strictly true. That from a laudable but mistaken intention it strained too far the pre- eminence of virtue, and supposed a state of moral perfection as extant in the world, which was at best but imaginary. The position in so broad an extent is not only erroneous in itself, but danger- ous in its tendency. For if no other than a good LECT. XV.] AN ORATOR. 345 man can possibly be a great orator, the converse of the proposition must be also true, and every great orator would of course be proved an honest man. An opinion of this kind mii^ht be pernicious to )outh and inexperience. It is incompatible with the uniform constitution of human nature, and the unvaried tenor of human history. It leads to conclusions, which must confound the distinctions between fair profession and honorable action ; and makes a smooth and fluent tongue tlie incontro- vertible test of moral excellence. It is however unquestionably true, that in form- ing that ideal model of an all-accomplished orator, that perfect master of the art, which a fruitful im- agination is able to conceive, die first quality, with which he should be endowed, is uprightness of heart. In mere speculation we cannot separate the moral cliaracter from the oratoric- al power. If we assume as a given point, that a man is deficient in the score of integrity, we dis- card all confidence in his discourse, and all benev- olence to his person. We contemn his argument as sophistrv'. Vv'e detest his pathos as hypocrisy. If the powers of creation could be delegated to mortal hands, and we could make an orator, as a > sculptor moulds a statue, the first material ^ve 44 346 (QUALITIES OF [lECT. XV. should employ for the composition would be in- tegrity of heart. The reason why tliis quality be- comes so essential is, that it forms the basis of the hearer's confidence, witliout which no eloquence can operate upon his belief. Now if the profes- sion and the practice of virtue were always found in unison with each other, it would inevitably fol- low, that no other than a good man could possess high powers of oratory ; but as tlie world is con- stituted, the reputation of integrity will answer all die purpose of inspiring confidence, which could be attained by the virtue itself. The reputation of integrity is sometimes en- joyed without being deserved, and sometimes de- served without being enjoyed. There is howev- er no safer maxim, upon which a young man can proceed in the career of life, than that the reputation is to be acquired and maintained by the practice of virtue. To estimate at its proper value the importance to a public speaker of an irreproachable character, consider its general operation upon the auditory at the several scenes of public oratory, with which we are conversant, and the distinctive characters of which have been delineated in my preceding lec- tures. LECT. XV.] AN ORATOR. 347 Our demonstrative orations are generally de- livered upon some public anniversar}% or before some charitable or humane society, or in the form of funeral eulogy. Whether as the vehicles of persuasion to charity, or of moral or political sen- timent, or of fair and honorable fame, how much more forcible and impressive must be the words of a speaker esteemed and respected for his personal chai'acter, than of one degraded in reputation. To influence the public opinion for some purpose of public benefit is the great end, to which the de- moiisti'ative orator should always endeavour to di- rect his discourse. This he will seldom find difli- cult. The occasions, upon which he will be call- ed to speak, seldom fail to furnish him the oppor- tunity. But to ensure his success the esteem and confidence of his hearers will contribute more than the substance of his discourse. The demonstrative orator should imagine to himself what truth and virtue and honor would say, could they appear in person, and speak with a human voice. What they would speak is precisely what he should say ; and what can so surely fix the seal upon generous and noble sentiment, as the universal testimonial of the public voice, that it issued from a noble and a generous soul ? 348 QUALITIES OF [lECT. XV. Still more important is a pure and spotless reputation for integrity to die general success of a pleader at the bar. The profession of the law re- quires a life the more scrupulously pure, for be- ing more than perhaps any other occupation ex- posed to temptations, and stimulated by opportu- nities of departure from the path of rectitude ; and for being far more than any other obnoxious to popuhu" prejudices and suspicions. But although a fair character will certainly promote the general success of an advocate, it can have little or no in- fluence upon the issue of any particular cause. Here again we discover different consequences from the different judicial institutions of ancient and modern times. One of the reasons most ear- nestly urged by Quinctiiian, in recommending to his orator integrity of character, is, that it may en- able him to succeed in advocating a bad cause. And it is obvious fi om the whole scope of his ar- gument, and from that of Cicero to the same pur- pose, that the personal character of the advocate influenced in no small degree the fate of almost every cause. But in our courts of law it is the duty and the practice both of the judges and the juries to separate entirely the merits of the cause from those of its advocate. In the greater part of LECT. XV.] AN ORATOR. 349 our criminal trials neither the prosecution nor the defence is conducted by men, who voluntarily assumed the office. The attorney general is bound by the duties of his station to conduct be- fore the courts all accusations, preferred by the grand-jury ; and although there are certain cases, in which he may proceed by way of information, that is, he may himself commence a prosecution without the intervention of a grand-jury, yet those cases arc rare, and of little comparative importance. On the other hand our laws and constitutions, in that spirit of humanity, which marks all their reg- ulations of criminal process, have expressly provid- ed that all persons, charged with crimes, shall have the benefit of counsel ; and it is generally made the duty of the practitioners at our bar to de- fend the pai-ty, who applies for his assistance. In all capital cases, if the prisoner under indictment is unable to defray the expense of an adequate fee, the judges themselves appoint individual members of the bar to manage his defence, and the task, thus imposed upon the advocate, he is bound to assume and to discharge with as much zeal and fidelity to the client thus allotted him, as if it had been the effect of his choice. The moral charac- ter of the lawyer can therefore have not the weight 350 (QUALITIES or [lECT. XV. of a feather upon the scales of justice in causes of criminal jurisdiction. With regard to civil suits there is certainly a line of discrimination strongly marked between the general practice of different men in extensive business. There is a reputable and a disreputable practice. But even in these cases the result is different from that of ancient times. The complexion of the cause is often re- flected upon the reputation of its supporter, but re- ceives neither light nor shade from it. There are causes, which a man of moral delicacy never would undertake ; and there is a management of causes, when undertaken, which a person solicit- ous for his own reputation never would adopt. Such causes and such a mode of conducting them are consequently found in the hands of men less scrupulous, and generally settle tlieir reputation. But even in their hands every cause stands, as it ought to stand, upon its o\\'ti merits, and is sub- mitted to no criterion of decision, other than the law. It is impossible on this subject to precribe any uniform rule, which can be recommended to your observance. It is neither practicable nor necessa- ry for a lawj^er to pretend in the course of his pro- fessional practice to be always on the right side. LECT. XV.] AN ORATOR. 351 A great proportion of causes, litigated in tlic courts of civil jurisdiction, consist of questions, the right or wrong of which can be ascertained on- ly by the decision of the court. To insist upon having always the triumphant side of the cause would be to abandon the character of an advocate, and to arrogate that of a judge. The personal in- tegrity of the lawyer is therefore by no means im- plicated in the failure of the causes, which he may support. On the other hand there are sometimes cases, in which the operation of the law itself is so harsh, so unfeeling, so at war with that natural justice, which can never be obliterated from the heart, that a man of principle would refuse his ministration for carrying it into effect. The only advice I can give you for all such emergencies is^ before you enter upon that profession, to lay the foundation of your conduct in a well digested sys- tem of ethics; to make yourselves thoroughly acquainted with the general duties of the man and the citizen ; to form for yourselves principles Beyond the fixed and settled rules Of vice and virtue in the schools, Beyond the letter of the law ; and, when once thus well grounded in the theory 252 (QUALITIES OF [lECT. XV. of your moral obligations, you may safely consult tlie monitor in your own breasts for direction upon every special occasion of difficulty, which may af- terwai'ds occur in your intercourse with mankind. To the deliberative orator the reputation of unsullied virtue is not only useful, as a mean of promoting his general influence, it is also among his most efficient engines of persuasion, upon eve- ry individual occasion. The test of deliberation you remember is utility. Its issue is some mciis- ure to be pursued or rejected. The purpose of the speaker is to persuade his hearers that the act, to which he exhorts, will be advantageous to them- selves ; or, if the discourse is held before a repre- sentative body, to their constituents. It is obvi- ous then, that the hearers of a deliberative speaker will listen to liim with a disposition niuch more favorable to the adoption of his opinions, when they have an unshaken confidence in his integrity, than when they suspect or disbelieve the purity of his intentions. In our country the legislative bodies of the state or of the union are the assemblies, in which all the most important deliberative discussions are agitated. Generally speaking, a reputation for in- tegrity must to a certain degree be established, be- LECT. XV.] AN ORATOR. 353 fore a citizen can obtain a seat in those assemblies, and enjoy the right of taking a part in their de- bates. I do not mean to say, that these stations are universally or exclusively filled by men of exem- plary virtue, or even of fairflime. There always are and always will be some exceptions. The places are all elective, and all granted for a short space of time. But the instances of polluted char- acters ushered into the halls of legislation are rare. An election by popular suffrage to a place of trust and honor is conclusive proof, that the person chosen was an object of esteem to those, by whom he was elected. If not always decisive evidence of merit, at least it is an indication of good repute. And as uprightness of character is the most effec- tual passport to a seat in the legislative councils, so is it the most certain instrument for acquiring influence in them. Without it the most brilliant eloquence loses half its lustre ; with it every fac- ulty of speech acquires a ten-fold energy. To the worldly orator then of whatever de- nomination, good name is a jewel of inestimable price. But to the preacher of the gospel it is the immediate jewel of his soul. Not that there is any principle of religion or of virtue, binding upon a clergyman, from which men of other occupations 45 .354 q^lTALITIES OF [lECT. XV. are entitled to an exemption. Heaven has not prescribed one system of morality for the priest- hood, and another for the people. The divine precepts are the same for us all ; and that, which would be criminal in a divine, can never become innocent in a layman. Nevertheless usages of so- ciety, and the general opinions of mankind apply a more rigorous standard of piety and virtue to the duties of a clergxman, than to those of other men. High offences partake of aggravated enor- mity, when committed by them ; and indulgen- cies, deemed innocent in the ordinary characters of mankind, become transgressions in the cloth. By their profession they are teachers of religion and virtue. If then by his example a divine should give the lie to his own instructions, his guilt is complicated. Besides the criminality, which he incurs in common with every other of- fender, he commits a sort of moral and professional suicide. He destroys all possibility, that his les- sons to others should obtain credit. He is an apostate from the cause, to which he has pledged himself. He is not merely a worthless man ; he is an impostor to mankind, and a traitor to his God. 1 his character, I add with pleasure, is no less rare, than it is odious. There is no class of LECT. XV.] AN ORATOR. 355 men in society so generally distinguished for pure morals and blameless lives, as our clergy. For dignity of mind and decency of manners, for up- rightness of conduct and delicacy of sentiment, no other profession can bear a comparison with the ministers of the gospel of every sect and denomina- tion. To men of this vocation the maxim of Quinctilian might be applied in its utmost extent. The orator of heaven must be a saint upon earth. And truths divine come mended from his tongue. Thus then, for the purpose of conciliating the benevolence of the auditory, an object so indis- pensable to the success of all eloquence, the repu- tation of integrity appears of momentous conse- quence to tlie orator of every description. But there is an advantage, which genuine integrity will secure to the speaker, independent of the falla- cious estimates of his hearers, which no baseless reputation can usurp, and no delusive prejudice can destroy. The advantage of that natural alli- ance, which always subsists between honesty and truth, guided by that spirit of truth, which is no other than tlie perception of things, as they exist in reality, an orator will never use, for he will never need any species of deception. 356 (QUALITIES OF [lECT. XV. He will never substitute falsehood for fact, nor sophistr}^ for argument. Ahvays believing him- self what he says, he will possess the first of in- sti'uments for obtaining the belief of others. Nor is the respect for trutii in a fair and ingenuous mind a passive or inert quality. It is warm with zeal. It never suffers carelessness to overlook, nor indolence to slumber. It spurs to active ex- ertion ; it prompts to industry, to perseverance, to fortitude. Integrity of heart is a permanent and ever active principle, exercising its influence over the heait throughout life. It is friendly to all the energetic virtues ; to temperance, to resolution, to labor. It trims the midnight lamp in pursuit of that general knowledge, which alone can qualify the orator of ages. It greets the rising dawn in spe- cial application to the cause, for which its exer- tions may be required. Yet more; integrity of heart must be founded upon an enlarged and en- lightened morality, A truly ^'irtuous orator must have an accurate knowledge of the duties, incident to man in a state of civil society. He must have formed a correct estimate of good and evil ; a moral sense, which in demonstrative discourse will direct him with the instantaneous impulse of intuition to the true sources of honor and shame ; LECT. XV.] AN ORATOR. 357 injudicial controversy, to those of justice ; in de- liberation, to the path of real utility ; in the pulpii, to all that the wisdom of man, and all that the rev- elation of heaven have imparted of light for the pursuit of temporal or eternal felicity. Finally, an honest heart is the fountain of all irresistible argument, and all overpowering senti- ment. Mankind are indeed liable to be occasion- ally led astray and deluded b}' their passions ; but all the lasting sympathies of the human soul an- with virtue. So true is this, that the most aban- doned instigators to criminal acts are ever solicit- ous to varnish over their purposes with some plau- sible pretext; and the prtnce of darkness holds forth temptation in the garb and image of an an- gel of light. But integrity of heart, although die first, is not the only essential qualification for the eminence of a pul^lic speaker ; nor is it a distinction more pe- culiai'ly adapted to his profession, than to all oUi- ers. It forms a general duty, obligatory alike up- on all, though I have here considered it only, as it operates upon the oratorical character. The en- dowments of the mind are the next higredients in the composition of a public speaker ; and though subordinate to that all-surrounding orb of moral 558 QUALITIES OF ^LECT. XV. principle, they are equally indispensable to the har- mony of the system. The faculties of the mind are either natural or acquired. There is no occupation among men, excepting the exercise of the military art, which affords so wide a scope for the operations of gen- ius, as the practice of oratorj-. So far however as genius is the gift of nature, it cannot be a subject of much useful discussion. It is a property nei- ther to be suppressed where it exists, nor given where it is not. The natural endowments howev- er, which are indispensable for a distinguished ora- tor, are not of that rare and extraordinary kind, which that common mother bestows only upon a darling of twenty centuries. Fluency of speech, strength of lungs, and boldness of heart, these ap- pear to be the only natural gifts, which an orator can require, exce-.ting the pf)wers of invention. But the attribute, which of all others exclusively beai's the mark of genius, is the power of over- coming obstacles ; and in the history of Demos- thenes it seems as if nature had pui posely denied him all those physical powers, for the express pur- pose of exhibiting the triumph of genius over na- ture. The sublimest of human orators became such in despite of an impediment in his speech, of LECT. XV.] AN ORATOR. 359 feeble lungs, and of the timidity, which dreads the sound of its own voice before an assembled multi- tude. The example of Demosthenes can be safely recommended however only to those, who have not to struggle with the same difficulties. Let the youth more liberally provided with the physical organs of speech, whose ambition points him to the paths of oratorical fame, let him re- member, that the same indefatigable assiduity, the same inflexible perseverance, and the same inven- tive ingenuity, which enabled Demosthenes to dis- arm the very rigors of nature, are the weapons, with which he must learn to improve her favors. It will not be necessary for me to dwell with tedious earnestness upon the importance to the orator of those faculties, which his own industry can acquire. The rhetorical dialogues of Cicero and the institutes of Quinctilian are so ample and so compreliensive on this article, that the most elaborate discourse I could frame to the same pur- pose would in substance consist of nothing but of repetitions from them. It were easy to transcribe, and perhaps impossible to add to the weight of dieir opinions, or to the energy of their instructions. If it were possible to suppose any of you seriously doubtful, and inclining to the belief, that shallow 360 (QUALITIES OF [lECT. XV. draughts of learning suffice for the purposes of oratory, there would be reason to apprehend, that on such a mind neither Cicero nor Quinctilian could make much impression. As students at tliis place, I cannot imagine the use of an argument to recommend to you the pursuit of knowledge. It is the purpose, for which you are here, and a dissertation to convince you of the benefits of learning would be like a medical treatise to prove that food is conducive to health, and that respira- tion is one of the luxuries of life. There is how- ever one observation, which may perhaps not be so obvious to all. An university by its name im- ports a seminary, where youth is initiated in all tlie sciences; and it is an idea too flattering to indo- lence and vanity not to have many believers, that all the knowledge of the sciences, which can be of use in the common affairs of life, is to be acquired at the university. According to this estimate of things a liberal education means no more, than the acquisition of a degree ; and the pursuit of the sciences here taught is regularly laid aside with the square cap and the collegiate gown. But the practice upon this doctrine will never make an ac- complished orator. The student, who aspires to the attainment of that proud eminence, must con- lECT. XV.] AN ORATOR. 36l sider himself as able to acquire here nothing more, than the elements of useful knowledge, a mere in- troduction to the porches of science. These fountains of the muses are destined not to quench but to provoke his thirst. Here he can onl}^ learn to be his own teacher hereafter. But to say that the orator must be a man of universal knowledge is to speak in terms too gen- eral for practical utility. The objects of human learning are so multifarious, and its several branch- es are so complicated, that no human wit or indus- try can be adequate to a mastery equally minute over the whole. The comparative importance and value of the various classes and kinds of knowledge is worthy of your most deliberate in- quiry ; tiiat no precious time may be wasted upon unprofitable researches, and that no hasty conclu- sion may discard studies, adapted to useful pur- poses. The professional studies, which succeed the termination of your academical education, will be different, as your choice may lead you to the min- istry of the gospel, or to the practice of the bar. To enlarge upon these would lead me into a field too extensive for the present occasion, and would anticipate subjects, which may more properly be 46 362 (QUALITIES OF [lECT. XV. presented to your consideration hereafter. The materials, upon which the mind of a deliberative orator is called to fix a special attention, are still more various and extensiv-e ; and the period, at which they may become necessary to be investi- gated by you, still more remote. But as art is long and life short, there is no precept, which I can more earnestly recommend to you, than that of exercising your own understandings upon all the knowledge you acquire. Endeavour to meth- odise your studies. Habituate yourselves to re- flect upon what you read and what you hear. Let the streams of knowledge never stagnate upon your souls. Learning in the head of indolence is like the sword of a hero in the hand of a coward. The credit and the usefulness of a merchant de- pends at least as much upon the employment, as upon the extent of his capital. The reputation erf learning is no better, than that of a pedantic trifler, unless accompanied with the talent of making that learning useful to its possessor and to mankind. With this talent the orator must also be gov- erned by a corresponding disposition. And the disposition, manifested by the temper of the speak- er, was the third and last of the projr-erties, which I have deemed important, as affecting the merits of LECT. XV.] AN ORATOR. 363 the oratorical character. The temper of the speaker operates in a twofold manner; like the reputation of integrity, it influences the affections of the auditory ; and like integrity itself, it modi- fies his management of every subject. The qual- ities, which operate most powerfully upon the hearers, are benevolence, modesty, and confi- dence. That, which affects the ti'eatment of the subject, may be comprised in the single term self-command. Benevolence is not merely the first of moral and christian virtues, it is the most captivating of all human qualities ; for it recom- mends itself to the selfish passions of every indi- vidual. Benevolence is a disposition of the heart, universal in its nature ; and every single hearer imagines that temper to be kindly affected towards himself, which is known to be actuated by good will to all. It is the general impulse of human nature to return kindness widi kindness, and the speaker, whose auditor}^ at the instant of his first address believe him inspired with a warm benevo- lence for them, has already more than half obtained his end. Modesty is a kindred virtue to benevo- lence, and possesses a similar charm over the hearts of men. Modesty always obtains the more, precise- ly because it asks nothing. Modesty lulls all the o 64 (QUALITIES OF (^LECT. XV. iiTitable passions to sleep. It often disarms, and scarcely ever provokes opposition. These quali- ties arc so congenial to the best feelings of man- kind, that they can never be too assiduously culti- vated. In them there is no counteraction. If they do not always succeed, they never totally fail. They neutralize malice ; they baffle envy ; they relax the very brow of hatred, and soften the fea- tures of scorn into a smile. But the purest of vir- tues border upon pernicious failings. Let your benevolence never degenerate into weakness, nor your modesty into bashfulness. A decent confi- dence is among the most indispensable qualifica- tions of an accomplished orator. Arrogance stim- ulates resentment ; vanity opens to derision ; but a mild and determined intrepidity, unabashed by fear, unintimidated by the noise and turbulence of a popular assembly, unawed by the rank or digni- ty of an auditory, must be acquired by every pub- lic speaker aspiring to high distinction. It is as necessary to command the respect, as to conciliate the kindness of your hearers. This decent and respectful confidence is but a natural result of that perfect and unalterable self command, which, though last, is far, very far from being the least ingredient in the composition of an LECT. XV.] AK ORATOR. 365 accomplished orator. If it be true of mankind in general, that he who ruleth his spirit is greater than he that taketh a cit}'^, to no description of hu- man beings can this preeminence of self dominion be so emphatically ascribed, as to the public speak- er. Let no man presume to bespeak an ascenden- cy over the passions of others, until he has acquir- ed an unquestioned mastery over his own. Let no man daie to undertake the guidance of reason in others, while he suffers anger or vanity, the over- flowings of an inflated or an irritated mind, to in- termingle with the tide of his eloquence. When the ebullitions of passion burst in peevish crimin- ation of the audience themselves, when a speaker sallies forth, armed with insult and outrage for his instruments of persuasion, you may be assured, that this Quixotism of rhetoric must eventually terminate like all other modern knight errantry and that the fury must always be succeeded by the impotence of the passions. i LECTURE XVI. EXCITATION AND MANAGEMENT OF THE PASSIONS. IN delineating the qualities of the heart, of the understanding, and of the temper, which must combine to constitute an orator worthy of a sta- tion in the memory of ages, I reserved, as the clos- ing and highly impoitant consideration, the neces- sity, that he should possess a steady and unvary- ing command over his own passions. The course of my subject naturally leads me next to inquire how far and by what means he will find it expedi- ent to exercise an influence over those of his hear- ers. The rhetorical theories of this age must differ very materially from those of ancient times on this part of the science. Among them the man- 368 MANAGEMENT OF [lECT. XVI. agement of the passions was considered as includ- ing almost the whole art of oratory. Each of the three great writers, who have hitherto been our in- stmcters, appears to consider this as by far the most arduous task, and the most effectual power of a public speaker ; and each of them has treated it in his peculiar chai^acteristic manner. One en- tire book of the three, which contain the rhetorical system of Aristotle, is devoted to the passions. He selects from the Avhole mass of habits and af- fections, which hold dominion over the hearts of men, a certain number, which he comprises un- der the general denomination of oratorical passions, or passions which are peculiarly susceptible of being operated upon by a public speaker. To each of these he allots a distinct chapter, in which he successively analyzes the passion itself, the classes of men, who are most liable to be stimulat- ed by it, and the manner in which it may be excit- ed. This book is one of the profoundest and most ingenious treatises upon human nature, that ever issued from the pen of man. It search- es the issues of the heart with a keenness of pene- tration, which nothing can surpass, unless it be its severity. There is nothing satirical in his manner, and his obvious intention is merely as an artist to LECT. XVI.] THE PASSIONS. 369 expose the mechanism of man ; to discover the moral nerves and sinews, which are the pcciiUar organs of sensation ; to dissect the internal struc- ture, and expose the most hidden chambers of the tenement to our view. Cicero insists also much upon the management of the passions. Not by anatomizing the passions themselves, but by showing how they are to be handled. His exam- ple is followed by Quinctilian, whose sentiments on this chapter it may be proper to cite, as explain- ed by himself, in order to mark distinctly how far they can be applicable to present times. " There is," says he, " perhaps nothing so im- portant as this in the whole art of oratory. An inferior genius, with the aid of instruction and ex- perience, may succeed, and appear to great advan- tage in all the other parts. You can easily find men able to invent arguments and proofs, and even to link them together in a chain of deduction. These men are not to be despised. They are well qualified to inform the judges ; to give them a perfect insight into the cause ; nay to be die pat- terns and teachers of all your learned orators. But the talent of delighting, of overpowering the judge himself, of ruling at pleasure his very vvill, of inflaming him with anger, of melting him to * 47 ' • 370 MANAGEMENT OF [lECT. XVI, tears, that is the rare endowment indeed. Yet therein consists the tiue doniinion of the orator; therein consists the empire of eloquence over the heart. As for arguments, they generally proceed from the bosom of the cause itself, and are always the strongest on the right side. To obtain the victory by means of them is merely the success of a common lawyer; but to sway the judge in spite of himself, to divert his observation from the truth, when it is unpropitious to our cause, this is the real triumph of an orator. This is what you nev- er can learn from the parties ; what none of their documents will ever contain. The proofs and the reasonings serve indeed to convince the judge, that our cause is the best. But by means of his passions he is made to wish it such ; and he will soon believe what he once wishes. No sooner does he begin to catch our passions and to share in our hatreds and friendships, indignations and fears, than he makes our cause his own. And as lovers are ill qualified to judge of beauty, because blinded by their passion, in like manner the judge, amidst his perturbation, loses the discern- ment of truth. The torrent hurries him along, imd he gives himself up to its violence. Nothing but the sentence itself can indicate the effect of the LECT. XVI.] THE PASSIONS. 371 arguments and witnesses upon his mind. But if he warmly feels the passions excited in him, you can easily discover his sentence before he leaves the bench ; nay without his rising from it. When he bursts into tears, as scmietimes happens at those admirable perorations, which must move the hard- est of hearts, is not the decree already pronounc- ed ? Let the orator then direct all his exertions to this point ; let him fasten most obstinately up- on it, without which every thing else is slender, feeble, and ungracious. So true it is, that the strength and the soul of a pleader's discourse cen- tres in the passions." Let us here remark, that in this passage, which contains the whole substance of the ancient doctrine respecting the excitation and manage- ment of the passions, Quinctilian ai)plies his ob- servations exclusively to judicial eloquence. The ends, for which these energetic machines are to be worked, have no relation to demonstrative dis- courses. There is no judge to be deceived, no sentence to be fiilsified. The ideas apply only by a weak and imperfect analogy to deliberative elo- quence ; and indeed it was a received maxim among all the rhetoricians, that the great field for operating upon the passions was at the bar. In 372 MANAGEMENT OF [lECT. XVI. my lectures on the subject of judicial oratory, I have already shown, as a consequence of our ju- dicial institutions and principles, that the means of influencing the issue of a cause, by the passions of the hearers, are less at the bar, than in any otjjjer form of public speaking. Our judges are sworn to administer justice according to law. Our ju- ries are under oaths equally solemn to give tlieir verdicts according to the evidence ; and even the attornies and counsellors, practising in all the courts, are under like engagement to do no wrong, and to suffer none knowingly to be committed. That, which Quinctilian tells us to be the most splended triumph of the art, would therefore now be a high misdemeanor; and the judge, who should suffer his sentence to be diverted from the truth, and should join in the hatreds or friendships of one party against another, ^vould soon get himself re- moved by impeachment. This is perhaps one of the principal causes of the superiority, enjoyed by ancient over modern eloquence. It manifests a great improvement in the condition of society. When we see Quinctil- ian speaking contemptuously of arguments, be- cause they are always strongest on the right side, \T?hat must we think of their administration of the LECT. XVI.] THE PASSIONS. 373 laws ? If the modern courts have lost on the side of eloquence, they have gained on the side of jus- tice ; and if our orritors have less brilliancy, our judges liave more solidity. The cliristian system of morality has likewise produced an important modification of the princi- ples respecting tlie use of the passions. In the passage, above quoted from Quinctilian, no dis- tinction is made between the kindly and the ma- levolent passions. Neither does Aristotle inti- mate such a distinction. ?^nvy, hatred, malice, and indignation, are recommended to be roused, as well as love, kindness, and good will. The chris- tian morality has commanded us to suppress the angry and turbulent passions in ourselves, and for- bids us to stimulate them in others. This pre- cept, like many others proceeding from the same source, is elevated so far above the ordinary level of human virtue, that it is not always faithfully obeyed. But aldiough perhaps not completely victorious over any one human heart, the command to abstain from malice and env}' , and all the rancor- ous passions, has effected a general refinement of manners among men. Is there a rhetorician of modern ages, who would dare utter, as a precept to his pupils, instructions how to debauch the un- 374 MANAGEMENT 0¥ [lECT. XVI. derstanding of a judge, through the medium of his pasbions ? lb there a teacher, who would have the courage to search out the most venomous re- gions of the human heart, to instruct his scholars how to feed them witli congenial poison ? Doc- trines like these could only suit the times, when the rule of morality was " thou shall love thy neighbour and hate thine enemy." They must be, and tliey are universally exploded from the lessons of those, who have been commanded to love their enemies; to return blessings for curses, prayers for persecution, and good for evil. Would to heaven, that tliey were as universally abandoned in practice. Of this there is but too much still remaining. It is too easily learned and too fre- quently employed, for the worst of purposes. In- stead of recommending it to your use, I cannot too earnestly warn you against its adoption. Addresses to" the malevolent passions are not necessary for the highest efforts of eloquence. To convince yourselves of this truth, compare the or- atorical compositions of Burke with the letters of Junius. They have been sometimes ascribed to the same author, and there are many particulars, in which tlie resemblance between them is re- markable. They are both writers of ardent pas- LECT. XVI.] THE PASSIONS. 375 sion and high vehemence. But in regard to the motives and feelings, which they strive to excite, they differ as widely as possible. Burke was up- on principle and conviction a christian. He had examined its evidences, and compared its moral system with every other known theory of ethics. The result of his investigation was a conviction of the truth of Christianity, and its laws of general be- nevolence and charity appear in every page of his writings. The blaze of passion, the bolt of indig- nation, flash with incessant energy from his con- troversial speeches and publications; but die tone and character of his sentiment is invariably gener- ous and benevolent. All his maxims of wisdom, all his remarks upon life and manners, beam with humanity, with good will to men. Junius was probably infected with the shallow infidelity of tlie French encyclopedists. He seldom suffers an op- portunity for a sarcasm upon religion to escape him ; and he always speaks of piet}' with a sneer, as if it conveyed to his mind no image, other than that of hypocrisy. Yet he dares not avow his infi- delity ; and, when directly charged with it, shuf- fles with the dexterity of a rope dancer, and cavils with the subtlety of a sophist to disclaim an of- fence, which at the same moment he repeats, h 376 MANAGEMENT OF [lECT. XVI. is obvious from the general tenor of his letters, that christian principles were as foreign from lus heart, as christian doctrines from his understand- ing. His eloquence is unshackled by any re- straint of tenderness for his species. He flatters the foulest prejudices. He panders for the basest passions. Anger, hatred, and envy, are the choic- est instruments of his oratory. There is scarcely a sentiment, calculated to warm the hearts of his readers with kindness to their fellow creatures, in the whole collection. The tender, aftectionatc feelings nevei- inspire him with a thought ; and, whenever an idea of patriotism or pliilanthropy crosses his mind, his principal address consists in pointing it with individual malignity. The vindictive and envious passions being excluded from the ways and means of our eloquence by the duties of our religion, and all the passions being so much discountenanced in our judicial courts, it is an obvious inference, that this particular department of the art has lost some of its relative importance. There are still howev- er occasions, in every class of public speaking, when the orator may obtain his end by operating upon the passions of his liearers, and success ob- tained by these instruments is still the most diffi- i LECT. XVI.] THE PASSIONS. 377 cult achievement and the most splendid triumph of the art. It is however an instrument, which requires the management of a skilful hand, and which, to retain its efficacy, must be very rarely employed. Under the general denomination of passions we include two distinct classes of sentiments or im- pulsions, which by the ancient Greeks were dis- tinguished by the names of %u^og and vi'^cg. The terms in our language most nearly corresponding with these are passions and habits ; in the sense which we apply to this latter word, when we say that habit is a second nature. By the passions they understood the keen and forceful affections of the mind. By the liabits they meant the mild and orderly emotions. The passions were tumultuous agitations ; the habits quiet and peaceable im- pulses. The first were more adapted to control ; the last to attract. Generally speaking the \vords marked a difference in duration, as well as in de^ gree. The passions were momentary, the hab- its constant ; the former an occasional, the latter*^ a permanent influence. The passions are the tides of the ocean, ebbing and flowing at short in- tervals ; the halDits are the current of a mighty ri>Tr, alwavs settino- in the same direction. From 48 ^78 MANAGEMENT OF [lECT. XVI. the anal} sis of Aristotle it appears also, that the habits afiect men in classes ; the passions only as individuals. Thus he describes tlie habits of the young, die old, and the middle aged ; of the rich iind the poor ; of the powerful and the feeble ; of the prosperous and the unfortunate. But in speaking of the passions he considers them indi- vidually ; anger and its remission ; love and hat- red; fear and boldness; shame and honor; com- passion and revenge ; envy and emulation. Although the distinction between these two powers, which divide between them the control of the human will, is obvious and important, they are sometimes of precisely the same nature, and differ only in degree. Thus for instance love is includ- ed among the jiassions, but friendship among the habits. Still more common is it to find them in opposition to each other, and the most vehe- ment appeals to the passions are counteracted by addresses to the calmer influence of the habits. The occasions, upon which an attempt to jnove the passions properly so called is advisable, do not often occur. In ordinary cases the speaker's manner should be calm and moderate ; avoiding all affected elevation or energy. Correctness of thought and expression, pleasantness and probabil- lECT. XVI.] THE PASSIONS. 379 ity are the natural cliaracters of discourses, urged to the habits of the hearers. But to stir the pas- sions, the tempests of the soul, grandeur of expres- sion, boldness and irregularity of thought, and gravity, seriousness, inflexibility of manner, be- come indispensable. In the compositions of the drama, the habits or manners belong exclusively to the province of comedy ; the passions to that of tragedy. One of the most universal precepts, recom- mended alike by all the writers upon the science ancient and modern, is that the orator himself should feel the passion, which he purposes to ex- cite. This rule however must be received with some limitations. It is applicable only to some of the passions, and even with regard to those re- quires, that the speaker should be affected only in such degree, as to leave him in perfect possession of all his intellectual faculties. Si vis me fiere, dolendum est primum tibi ipsi. This is the di- rection of Horace to the ^vriter for the stage ; and thus far the rule is unquestionably as applicable to the forum, as to the theatre. But suppose the passion to be excited is fear or shame ; is the ora- tor, who would rouse these emotions, to partake of them himself ? Suppose it to be anger or indig- 380 MANAGEMENT OF [lECT. XVI. nation ; a sentiment justifiable and laudable in a virtuous cause ; must he not rather strugi^le to suppress in himself the natural violence of tliese passions, to communicate them even in their due degree to his audience ? In applying generally to all the passions that rule, which was originally giv- en only for that of compassion, or s) mpathy with distress, the doctrine has been too far extended, and reminds us of Johnson's reply to some shallow wit, who repeated with great emphasis a verse, which he deemed truly sublime ; " Who rules o'er freemen, should himself be free." That, said Johnson, is as much as to say, " Who drives fat oxen, should himself be fat." Indeed the passions, which are liable to be excited by the powers of oratory, are numerous ; and so ne of those, which act with the most irresistible energy upon the hearts of mankind, are altogether omitted in the catalogue of Aristotle. Ambition, avarice, the love of fame, patriotism, are all pas- sions to be numbered among the sharpest stimu- lants to action, and to the motives, which they pre- sent, much of the most celebrated eloquence of all ages has been addressed. There is however a LECT. XVI.] THE PASSIONS. 381 more restricted sense, in \v'hich the terai passion is used, and of u hich the precisest idea will be form- ed by tracing its et}'mology. In this sense it is equivalent to sufferance, distress, anguish. In this sense it has emphatically been applied to die last sufferings of the Saviour ; and to this sense it must be confined, ^vhcn ^ve are inquiring into those pathetic powers of oratory, which aw aken the sym- pathies of the audience. These very words them- selves, pathetic and sympathy, are both derived im- mediately from the Greek zu&og, of which the Latin passio is merely a translation. And the meaning, universally annexed to them, has kept closer to their original derivation, than the Latin term. We could scarcely take up an oration of celebrated fame, without discovering in all its paits pabsages, calcu- lated to move the passions. But we should ccr- tahily denominate pathetic only those, which have a tendency to excite our sympathies, ^vith some exhibition of cUstress. This brings us back to the poetical precept of Horace, w hich the experience of all ages will verify, and which a public speaker can never imprint too deeply upon his mind. If then your purpose be to stir compassion, begin by feeling it yourself. But would you inflame an- ger ? Be cool. Would you bring to a sense of 382 MANAGEMENT OF [lECT. XVI. shame ? Sound the trump of unblemished honor. Would you strike terror ? Be intrepid ; and in general remember, that if it is the nature of some passions to spread by contagion, it is equally char- acteristic of others ne\ er to kindle without colli- sion. But whatsoever be the passions, upon which the orator is desirous of working, this is tlie occa- sion, upon which he must summon all the powers of imagination. By imagination I here mean what perhaps is more properly called fantasy ; the power of representing to the mind the images of absent things. The operation of the passions is much more uniform among mankind, than that of reason. The " sensible of pain" or of pleasure is nearly the same in all human beings. It differs only in degree. By the power of imagination the orator undergoes a virtual transformation. He identifies himself either with the person, in whose behalf he would excite the sentiment of compas- sion, or with the antagonist, against whom he is to contend, or with the auditor, whom he is to con- vince or persuade ; or successively with each of them in turn. In the deep silence of meditation he holds an instructive dialogue with every one (rf these personages. Of his client he learns what he LECT. XVI.] THE PASSIONS. 383 most keenly feels; of the antagonist what he most seriously dreads ; of the auditor what he most readily believes. He sounds the depth of every heart ; he measures the compass of every mind ; he explores the secret recesses of nature herself. To him, as to the immortal bard, she un- veils her face; to him she presents her golden keys, and says, This can unlock the gates of joy, Of horror that, and secret fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears. The power of imagination furnishes a substi- tute for the evidence of all the senses. It creates a»id multiplies all those incidents, which, being the constant attendants upon all realities, have always so strong a tendency to enforce belief. So indis- pensable is this power to the success of that orato- ry, which aims at the dominion of the passions, that a public speaker can institute no more important self-examination, than the inquiry whether it has been bestowed upon him by nature. If it has, let him cherish and cultivate it, as the most pre- cious of heaven's blessings. If it has not, let him graduate tlie scale of his ambition to the tempe- 384 MANAGEMENT OF [lECT. XVI. rate regions of eloquence, and aspire only to the reputation of being the orator of reason. In each of our three great scenes of public speaking, the legislature, the bar, and the pulpit, there is one master passion, which bears, or is sup- posed to bear an ascendency so uncontroled, that to attempt operating upon it is the never fliiling resource of all those orators, who are destitute of every other. I shall conclude this lecture with a few remarks upon them ; and with pointing them out to you rather by way of wai'ning, than of re- commendation. These passions are jealousy, av- arice, and fear. The deliberative passion is jealousy. The or- dinary mode of exciting it is by raising suspicions against the person or character of an opponent; by invidious reflections ; by insinuations against his integrity, and imputations upon his motives. This species of oratory is generally suggested by the virulence of party spirit. It is forbidden by the rules of order in all deliberative assemblies ; but is always practised upon the discussion of questions, which rouse the spirit of faction. It is the natural resort of those, who are unable to sup- port by reason or argument the opinions, to which they adhere. Its efficacy is proportioned to the LECT. XVI.] THE PASSIONS. 385 prejudices and ignorance of the hearers, to vrhom it is addressed, and the frequency of its use in our legislative assemblies for many years is not the most honorable feature in our national character. It is also not uncommon in the demonstrative dis- courses of our public anniversaries, which are thus made the engines of envy and slander. It is not to be denied, that these are weapons of for- midable power ; but a sound understanding will disdain, and a generous heart will abhor the use of them. The judicial passion is avarice. I have here- tofore shown, that the occasions, upon which any address to the passions is admissible in our courts of justice, are rare ; and that they must of neces- sity imply a discretionary power in the persons, who are to decide upon the issue. There are certain cases, in v^hich our judges possess certain discretionary powers ; but they always presuppose the offender tried and convicted. The discretion of the court extends only to the degree of punish- ment. Here is not much scope for eloquence of any kind. The mercy of the court usually fore- stalls the need of the culprit, and there is scarcely ever a disposition or an oppoitunity to urge their severity. There are -other cases, when the exer- 49 '^^^ MANAGEMENT OF [lECT. XVI. cise of discretionary powers is allotted to juries. These are mostly upon trials for personal injuries, Avhere juries have to settle the amount of damages. Such as actions for assault and battery, slander, li- bels, and other wrongs if possil^le of a still rriore atrocious complexion ; which, from the compara- tive purity of our manners, are happily almost un- known among us. In these cases however the only sympathies of the jury, which an orator cau attempt to move, are their love of money ; for, by a gross imperfection in our codes of law, the only reparation attainable for all the bodily pain, men- tal affliction, or laceration of fame, which the vil- lany of one man can inflict upon the feelings of another, is a compensation in money. The only powers of a jury, in the most atrocious outrages of these kinds, are to strike an arithmetical rule of three between the pecuniary means of the offend- er and the moral and physical suflferings of the in- jured party. There is, it must be confessed, not much delicacy of sentiment in this tariff of moral feelings, this scale of depreciation lor honor and fame. A ruffian has crippled you for life ; a se- ducer has murdered your domestic peace ; a slan- derer has blasted your good name; and for wrongs thus enormous, thus inexpiable, you are LECT. XVI.] THE PASSIONS. 387 compelled to ask of your country's justice a beg- garly retribution of dollars and cents ; to solicit the equivalent for affliction, the premium for pain, the indemnity for shame, cast up correctly to a mill in regular federal currency. A fiend in human shape has trampled under foot honor, hu- manity, friendship, the rights of nature, and the ties of connubial society ; but a check upon the bank atones for all his crime ; a scrap of silk pa- per spunges up the whole blot of his infaniy. It is not here the place to inquire, whether a system of jurisprudence might not be devised, which should secure a more honorable protection to per- sonal rights ; but it is manifest that the maxim, which affixes to personal sufferings their stated price in current coin, which estimates honor and shame by troy weight, which balances so many pangs of body with so many ounces of silver, and so much anguish of mind with so many penny- weights of gold, makes avarice the unresisted um- pire of the soul. It administers money as the universal potion for healing jUI the bruises of the mind ; and n^akcs extortion the only standard for measuring the merits of virtue. The passion of the pulpit orator is fear. As the exhortations of the divine have reference prin- 388 MANAGEMENT OF [lECT. XVI. cipally to the interests of a future existence, it is natural and proper, that he should often draw from the same source his materials of argument or of persuasion. And as the doctrines of religion are not aided among us by the weapons of secular power, the terrors of futurity are the only in- struments, by which numerous classes of i^eo- ple are retained stedfast in their faith, or reg- ulated, jn their practice. The vengeance of an offended Deity is to many preachers of many denominations the only fountain of motives or of reasoning; and their eloquence can never kindle without resorting to the flames of hell. I would not be understood, my friends, to treat this subject with a trifling hand. It is a serious con- cern to us all. But mere terror is a base and ser- vile passion ; nor should I value at a straw the re- ligion or tlie morality, which hinges upon nothing else. Let me hope that you, and those who may hereafter enjoy the benefits of your ministry, will ever feel the force and eflicacy of some nobler, some more generous stimulus to piety and virtue, than the mere selfishness even of eternity, and the shivering horrors of hell fire. We have now gone through the first great di- vision of the rhetorical science. We have succes- LECT. XVI.] THE PASSIONS. S89 sively treated of the state of the controvers}% the oratorical topics, the arguments peculiarly adapt- ed to the demonstrative, deliberative, judicial, and religious class of discourses. We have endeav- oured to trace the address and character suitable to an orator, and to point out the true use and proper means of exciting and directing the pas- sions. The subject is copious ; aiid, although it has occupied so large a portion of our time, is \ cr}- far from being exhausted. My duties have been to collect and present to yqur view the materials for tlie plastic hands of genius to fashion into shape. For the employment of these materials you will naturally look not to me, but to your- selves ; not to the lessons of a teacher, but to the fertility of your own invention. LECTURE XVII. DISPOSITION. EXORDIUM. IT will be remembered, that, in making the general distribution of the science of rhetoric into its primary divisions, they were stated to be five ; invention, disposition, elocution, memory, and pronunciation or action. To the first of these divisions, invention, my ten last lectures have been devoted ; containing a general view of every thing, which the rhetoricians of antiquity considered as constituting the mate- rials of an oratorical discourse. The formation of these materials was the proper and exclusive func- tion of invention ; which was analogous onlv to the state of chaos in the creation of the world. To shape this chaos into form, to give the original 392 DISPOSITION. [lEC1\ XVII. mass of mingled elements an existence for use or beauty, the principle of order must be introduced ; as the creation of light immediately succeeded that of matter ; and the division of light from dark- ness was the first thing, wliich the Supreme Crea- tor saw to be good. This principle of order in rhetoric is termed disposition ; and it is that, up- on which I am now to discourse. Disposition, according to the definition of Cic- ero, to which I formerly referred you, is " the or- derly arrangement of the things invented." And I then suggested to you some considerations for estimating its importance. They will the more especially merit your attention, inasmuch as this part of the oratorical talent is more indebted to study, than to nature ; rather to be acquired by the assiduous toils of industry, than communicat- ed by the gratuitous bounties of genius. The power of invention is distributed with the same ca- pricious partiality, which marks all the endow- ments of nature to the superficial mind of man. In the views of a wise and beneficent Providence there must be some great and regular principle, upon which the energies of genius are bestowed in their relative proportions, as they appear a: . ong man- kind; but to our contracted capacity of observa- LECT. XVII.] EXORDIUM. 393 tion that principle is not discoverable. Invention is the child of genius, and genius is not to be im- parted by tuition. But if genius be heaven's best gift, " order is heaven's first law;" and the power of giving effect and execution to this law is placed within the reach of our own assiduity. In con- templating that stupendous system of physical be- ing, which hangs upon the unvarying laws of mat- ter and the regular motions of unnumbered worlds, the human mind shrinks from the vastncss of its own conceptions. Of the power of creation it is incapable of forming a distinct idea. But it sees, it comprehends, it calculates the operations of a Supreme Disposer ; and in the act of arrange- ment or disposition alone are the works of man capable of imitating the laws of the Deity. The system of the universe itself is maintained only b}^ its perfect and immutable order. Suppose that order but for one instant suspended, and the innu- merable host of heaven, those fixed or wandering stars, which through the regions of unbounded space, " still choiring to the young eyed cheru- bim," sing the omnipotence of their Maker, would rush together in hideous ruin, and chaos return again. 50 394 DISPOSITION. [lect. xvie. In the comparative estimate of the two facul- ties, as they arc susceptible of being possessed by the human understanding, we shall perceive, that invention is an attribute of the imagination, and disposition an exercise of the judgment. Inven- tion soars on the pinions of fancy ; disposition plods in the path of reason. Yet are they mutual- ly dependent upon each other. Invention without order is chaos before the creation of light. Order without invention is a mere unintelligent operation of mechanical power. And widely as the charac- ters of these co-ordinate agents dirfer from each other, there are points of contact between them, which assimilate and almost identify them togeth- er. Some invention is indispensable to conceive and combine any complicated system of arrange- ment, and some rule of order no less essential to embody the visions of fancy. Disposition, as applied to rhetoric, is but anoth- er word for method. According to Quinctilian it is " a useful distribution of things, or of parts ; assigning to each its proper place and station." It is obvious then, that no general rule of disposition can be given for the various classes of public speaking. The same disposition, which would be suitable to a deliberative speech, would be utterly I LECT. XVII.] EXORDIUM. 595 inapplicable for the management of a cause in a judicial court. That, which would be proper for a demonstrative oration or a sermon, would again differ from botli the others, and even with regard to discourses of the same kind it must be admit- ted, that from the creation of the world to this hour no two occasions of public speaking have been in every respect iilike. The speaker there- fore must exercise his own discernment. He must study his subject, examine its bearings, measure its capacities, and use his own ingenuity according to his opportunities. The ancient rhetoricians are not all agreed either in the subjects, which they comprehend un- der the article of disposition, or in the number and denominations of the distinct paits, which are combined in the composition of a regular dis- course. Under the head of disposition Quinctil- ian treats solely and exclusively of judicial causes; and teaches how and when the several states of conjecture, of definition, of quantity, of quality, are to be assumed, together with the various ques- tions, which may put in issue the jurisdiction of the court, or the meaning and construction of the law ; while Aristotle and Cicero include in their ideas of disposition the several com- 396 DISPOSITION. [lECT. XVII, ponent parts of an oration ; a subject likewise copiously handled by Quinctilian, but which he ranges under t!ie first general head of invention. The distinct parts of a discourse, enumerated by Aristotle, are only four ; introduction, proposi- tion, proof, and conclusion ; and even of diese four he pronounces the second and diird only to be indispensable ; since a discourse may be com- plete without the formality of an exordium or of a peroration. To these four parts Quinctilian adds a fifth, with some difference in the denomination of the parts. He distinguishes the introduction, narratirm, proof, refutation, and conclusion. But the distribution of Cicero is still further extended, and recognises six parts under the names of in- troduction, narration, proposition, proof, refuta- tion, and conclusion. In examining particularly into this diversity of technical divisions we perceive, that it arises in both instances from that rage of minute and subtle iiubdivisions, which we have noticed on former occasions. Thus Quinctilian gains a point upon Aristotle by subdividing his proof into two parts, which he calls confirmation and refutation ; by the first of which he understands proof, adduced m support of a proposition, without reference to an LECP. XVII.] EXORDIUM. 39? adversary ; and by die second, proof in repl}^ to objections. A similar minuteness of analysis forms the sixth head of division, assumed by Cic- ero. Under the name of proposition Aristotle in- cluded the narration. Quinctilian changes the name, and under the head of nan^ation includes the proposition. Cicero separates them entirely, and treats each of them as a distinct general division. Other rhetoricians have multiplied them still fur- ther ; but microscopic researches into trivial dis- tinctions will never teach us genuine rhetoric; much less will they ever form an eloquent orator. The line of distinction between the parts assigned by Aristotle is strong and clear. It will suit every class of discourses, and adapt itself to every form of eloquence. The divisions of Cicero and Quinctilian are more peculiarl}- applicable to the practice of the bar. It is not Acry material which of these arrangements is pursued; but I shall follow that of Cicero, because it has been prescribed to me, and shall successively treat of the properties and uses of the introduction, narration, proposi- tion, confirmation, confutation, and conclusion, as distinct parts of a regular discourse ; and to these I shall add, as occasion may require, remarks on 398 DISPOSITION. [lect. xvir, the subordinate and incidental topics of transition, digression, and amplification. It will scarcely be necessary to detain you long with a definition or explanation of the terms, which of themselves are sufficiently understood. They mean only, tliat in the composition of an elaborate oration the most easy and proper course you can adopt is to begin with an exordium ; then proceed to relate the facts, upon which you mean to rely ; after which you are to unfold the proposition, con- stituting the subject of your discourse, and sup- port it by such proof, as you are able to adduce for its confirmation. When the objections erf your antagonist have been heard, you are to rein- force your proof by confuting them ; and close the whole by a peroration, or conclusion. Of all these parts you are to bear in mind, that the proposition and the proof are alone of absolute necessity to every public discourse. Although in real life it is not unexampled to hear a man speak- ing in public without purpose and without proof, yet the case is not admissible in theory, and there is no speculative system of rhetoric, to which such harrangues are reducible. But the exordium and peroration are ornamental, rather than vital parts. Narration and refutation are incidental, and not al- LECT. XVII.] EXORDIUM. 399 ways necessar}' or proper. In elucidating howev- er the properties and uses of these several parts, it will be most useful to consider them in the order, which they themselves take in the discourses where they all find a place, rather than in that of their relative importance. Let us begin then with the exordium. The exordium is defined by Cicero " a dis- course to prepare the minds of the audience for the favorable reception of the remainder." Hence you will observe it is not inht rent in the subject ; but a mere preliminary to conciliate the favor of the hearer. Though not always indispensable, it is often necessary ; and when not improper should never be omitted. It is not peculiar to the scenes of public oratory ; it is equally habitual to every species of WTitten composition, and its use is anal- ogous to that of the common salutations among men, which under some form or other in every state of society precede their entrance upon the transaction of business. The universal propensi- ty to some sort of prefatory introduction, at the threshold of all intercourse between men, may perhaps be traced to the constitution of human na- ture, independent of any state of society. It has been a question among philosophers whetlier the 400 DISPOSITION. [lECT. XVII. natural state of man is that of peace or of war. Different solutions have witli great and rival inge- nuity been drawn from different speculati^'e views of human nature. If we judge however from the experience we have of mankind in the state, ap- proaching nearest to that of nature, in which men have ever been found, or from the nature and character of human wants and human passions, or by analogy from the state of other wild beasts among themselves, I think we shall conclude, that the state of nature, like the state of society, is in itself not uniformly a state either of peace or war ; but alternately of either. Stimulated by the neces- sities or the passions, implanted in his nature for the preservation of the individual or of the species, man would be at war with any of his fellow crea- tures, from whom he could wrest the object of his immediate wants. Satiated and satisfied, he would be at peace with the whole creation. In hunger he would be active and violent ; in full- ness indolent and cowardly. A natural result of this variation of temper would be, that, in the acci- dental meeting of two human creatures, a recipro- cal uncertainty would exist in the bosom of each \vith regard to the disposition of the other ; and one of the first steps towards association would be LECT. XVII.] EXORDIUM. 401 the concert of some sign or indication, which might be understood as a i)ledge of peace at such occurrences. A manifestation of amity would thus become habitual, as introductory to e\'ery transaction of a peaceable nature between men ; and passing from speculation to experience, we find some usage of this kind practised by every tribe of savages, as well as among all the civilized nations, with which we are acquainted. When by the progi-ess of society the original motive for exhibiting these banners of benevolence disap- pears, the courtesies of civilized life assume its place, and adopt, as a customary formality, what was in its origin a promise of kindness. In all civilized society professions of friendship are mul- tiplied in proportion as its realities diminisii. Sal- utations, embraces, the joining of hands, are lav- ished as tokens of mutual regard, even when it is not felt ; and wherever man meets man in the at- titude of peace, be it for objects of pleasure, of business, or of devotion, some introduction to ev- ery purpose is held to be not less necessary, tlian the purpose itself. From the commo)i forms of personal intercourse the usage was transfeiTcd to the silent communications, introduced by the art of writing, and all literary discourse, from the Il\- 51 402 DISPOSITION. [lECT. XVHr miliar letter to the epic poem, announces itself with more or less formality of introduction, according to the nature of the subject and the genius of the writer. The general purpose of an oratorical exordium then is to prepare the minds of the hearers for re- ceiving the rest of the discourse ; or in other words to engage their good will, their attention, and their docility ; to interest them in favor of the speaker ; to rivet their attention to his speech ; and to enlist their feelings in behalf of his cause. These are distinct objects, and are to be promot- ed by different means. The skill of the orator consists in combining them judiciously, and point- ing them with effect to the same end. The good will of the audience towards the speaker is the first object of consideration. To estimate its importance we need only place our- selves in the situation of hearers, and consult our own breasts. How much more readily do we be- lieve those, whom we love, than those, against whom we feel disgust or aversion. Confidence is the natural companion of affection, and distrust is almost inseparable from dislike. In a former lec- ture I suggested this to you, as one of the most powerful motives, which should urge a public LECT. XVII.] EXORDIUM. 403 Speaker to lay the foundations of confidence in the general excellence of his personal character. But a speaker may be unknown to most of his audience, and therefore an object of their indifference; or he may have had prejudices excited against him, and have evil impressions to remove. We are HOW inquiring what aids he can derive for this pur- pose from his exordium. He may bespeak favor by allusions, direct or indirect, to himself; by explanations of his own motives ; by professions of honor and virtue ; by disproving or extenuatmg charges or inculpations, which may have been alledged against him ; by leading the mind of his hearers to recollections of his services or good deeds ; by enlarging upon the difficulties, obstacles, and dangers, with which he has contended ; or by express and open solici- tation. This is an easy but a dangerous topic. There are few men, possessed of any talent for public speaking, but can display great eloquence upon so favorite a subject, as themselves. But the danger is of overrating its importance ; of dwell- ing upon it with too much emphasis ; of provok- ing tl>e censure of the hearer by selfapplause, or his derision by self-admiration. He may bespeak favor by stimulating an opposite sentiment againsi ■104 DISPOSITION. [lECT. XVII. his adversary ; an txpedient of frequent resort in all controversial causes ; but which, like the last, requires great delicacy of hand to be properly managed. It is not difficult at any time to stir up sentiments of hatred, envy, and contempt in the human heart. But, as I have heretofore observed to you, these are poisoned arroM's, which the im- proved morality of modern ages rejects, as unlaw- ful weapons of war. There are indeed vices, which even charity cannot rescue from the scourge of scorn ; and crimes, which even mercy would doom to the rack of indignation. If the detection or exposure of these should at any time become the duty of a public orator, he may draw the kind- ness of his audience to himself in proportion to the odium he pours upon them ; but he must above all things be cautious not to mistake the cry of his own passions for the voice of virtue ; and remember that profound admonition of the wisest of men, wrath is cruel, and anger is outrageous ; but who is able to stand before envy ? The fa- vor of an auditory may be induced by the ex- pression of confidence in them ; by the manifes- tation of an ardent zeal for their welfare, of re- spect for their opinions, of reliance upon their wis- dom, their fortitude, their magnanimity. It has LECT. XVII.] EXORDIUM. 405 been remarked by accurate observers of human nature, that for conciliating kindness praise is a more efficacious instrument, than beneficence ; and perhaps it may be added, that a muhitude is still more susceptible of being influenced by praise, than an individual. Direct praise to a single man is more liable to the suspicion of flattery. To an assemblage of men it may be oflfered in bolder na- kedness, as they are generally less scrupulous in re- ceiving it. Yet in administering these sweetmeats of persuasion the speaker should be cautious to guard at once against the profusion, \Ahich must cloy the receiver, and that officiousness, which would degrade himself. The favor of an auditory may finally be engag- ed by an exordium, borrowed from the subject itself; for which purpose the orator must prepare himself by a careful and impartial examination of its character, with reference to the previous dispo- sitions of his hearers. And in this point of view there are five different shades of complexion, which the subject may bear. It may be popular, obnoxious, equivocal, trivial, or obscure. The popular subject is that, which, being al- ready possessed of the public favor, calls for no exertion on the part of the orator to bespeak kind- 406 DISPOSITION. [lECT. XVII. ness. The obnoxious subject is that, against which the hearers come forearmed with strong prepossessions. The equivocal subject is that, which presents a doubtful aspect ; a mixture of favorable and of unpropitious circumstances. The trivial subject is that, which, involving no impor- tant interest or engaging no strong sensation, is considered by the hearer as insignificant, and de- serving little attention. And the obscure subject is that, which, by embracing a multitude of intri- cate and entangled facts or principles, perplexes the understanding of the auditory. To suit these various descriptions of subjects introductions are divided into two general classes, the first direct, and the second oblique; which the Roman rhetoricians distinguish by the names of principium or beginning, and insinuation. The direct introduction is always to be employed upon popular subjects, if any exordium is expedient; and it is the most suitable for the trivial and the ob- scure subjects. But in equivocal cases for the most part, and in obnoxious subjects generally, a skilful orator will begin with insinuation. The name is sufficiently indicative of the thing. It arises from the necessity of the case and the most common propeiviities of mankind. For directly LECT. XVII.] EXORDIUM. 407 to solicit their good will in the moment of their animosity, instead of conciliating their kindness only exasperates their indignation. On such oc- casions the only possible chance of success, of which the speaker can avail himself, is to begin by diverting his hearers from their own thoughts. He must appease them with excuses ; soothe them with apologies. He must allure the atten- tion of tlieir minds from objects of their aversion to images, in which they take delight ; from char- acters, whom they despise or hate, to those, whom they love and revere. The real purpose of his discourse must sometimes be concealed ; some- times even disguised. An occasional incident oc- curring at the moment ; a humorous anecdote, ingeniously pointed to the purpose ; a smart re- tort or repartee, arising from the opponent's re- cent conclusion; an allusion to some object of sympathy to the audience ; an address to the nat- ural love of novelty, or to the taste for satire ; all these may furnish the variety of expedients, which the speaker must seize with the suddenness of in- stinct, to commence a discourse by insinuation. The introduction, whether direct or oblique, should be simple and unassuming in its language ; avoiding all appearance of brilliancy, wit, or pol- 408 DisrosiTiON. [lect. xvii. ished elegance. These are graces, the display of which tend rather to prepossess the audience against a speaker, tlian in his favor. They raise that sort of temper, with which we observe a hand- some person admiring himself before a glass. The natural kindness towards beauty is lost in the nat- ural disgust at vanity. To excite the admiration of his audience the speaker must cautiously fpr- JDcar to discover his own. But he may throw into it the whole powers of his mind, by energy of thought and dignity of sentiment ; for nothing can so forcibly propitiate his heaier both to himself and to his discourse, as the exhibition of ideas, which command respect without the appearance of a solicitude to obtain it. The introduction should avoid vulgarity ; that is, a character, \vhich would render it equally suit- able for many other occasions, as for that, upon which it is used. It should not be com non nor convertible ; that is, capable of being employed with little or no variation to the purpose of the speaker's antagonist, as usefully as to his own. It should not be too long ; charged with no heavy redundancies ; incumbered with no superfluous repetitions. It should shun all appearance of in- coiigi-uity or of transposition ; that is of tenden- LECT. XVII.] EXORDIUM. 409 cies opposite or even obviously varient from those of the discourse, which it precedes. Most of all slioiild it beware of such a violation of these rules, as to spend itself upon purposes different from those of engaging the attention, the confidence, and the kindness of the hearer. To say that it ought to avoid exciting contrary emotions in his mind would be to suppose the speaker had lost his senses. In all cases where the speaker and his subject arc both fully known, as most frequently happens in our judicial courts, and in our deliberative as- sembUes, a formal exordium is generally unneces- sary, and often improper. On some occasions of great urgency the omission of all introduction be- comes itself a beauty of a high order, as you see exemplified in a distinguished manner by the first of Cicero's orations against Catiline. To this ex- amj^le the sublimest of poets must have alluded in that passage, where he compares the arch enemy, satan, practising in his temptation of Eve the arts of an orator of ancient times. As when of old some orator renown'd In Athens, or free Rome, where eloquence Flourish'd (since mvite) to some great cause addrest, Stood m himself collected^ while each part, 52 410 DISPOSITION. [lECT. XVII. Motion, each act won audience, ere the tongue. Sometimes in height began, as no delay Of preface brooking, through his zeal of right. So standing, moving, or to height up grown, The tempter all impassion'd, thus began. p. L. IX. 670. As the magnitude of the cause, and the crisis of the moment point the judgment of the speaker to the cases, which exclude a regular exordium, they serve to indicate, that an elaborate introduc- tion is most peculiarly adapted to demonstrative and pulpit discourses. The speaker stands alone. His subject generally depends upon his choice, and until aimounced by himself is generally unknown to his audience. There is something new to in- troduce, and no sudden or unexpected pressure of circumstance can lop away the preliminaries of custom. Indeed in the practice of modem orato- ry it may be laid down as a general rule, that ex- temporaneous speeches seldom can require, and written orations as seldom can forbear the formali- ties of a rhetorical exordium. LECTURE XVIII. NARRATION. In the composition of a formal oratorical dis- course the narration is the part, which immediately succeds the exordium. The object of the intro- duction being, as in my last lecture I explained, to conciliate the attention, the kindness, and the do- cility of the audience, when that has been accom- plished, or at least attempted, so far as the situa- tion and circumstances of the speaker have render- ed it expedient, his next object must obviously be to give a general exposition of the facts, upon which he purposes to raise his argument. The term itself, narration, is doubtless so well understood by you all, that it would derive no ad- ditional clearness or precision in your minds from a definition. But, in considering its application to the several classes of oraton^ we shall find its char- 412 NARRATION. [lECT. XVIII. acter and uses to differ materially on different oc- casions, when it may be employed. It has sometimes been questioned whether nar- ration belonged at all to discourses of the delibera- tive class; because deliberation, relating always to future time, can furnish no materials for a narrative. Indeed it is of judicial orations alone upon the state of conjecture, or, to speak in reference to our own modem practice, it is of trials at the bar upon issues of fact, questions for the decision of juries, that narration forms a principal and indispensable ingredient ; and therefore most of the rhetorical precepts for the conduct of this part of a dis- course are adapted especially to occasions of that nature. But to every other mode of public speak- ing narration is incidental. The utility of any measure, which is the subject of deliberative dis- cussion, generally depends upon a previously ex- isting state of things ; often upon a particular dis- closure of facts, which the purpose of the delibera- tive orator requires him to make before his audi- tory. No question upon the imposition of a tax, the collection of a revenue, the sale of lands, or the subscription to a loan, a declaration of war, or the ratification of a treaty, can arise, in a public assembly, in a state of abstraction. These great LECT. XVIII.] NARRATION. 413 topics of debate must always be connected with a series of great public events; and the expediency, upon which the issue of the delibera- tion will turn, must lean upon the basis of the pub- lic affairs at the time of deliberation. The policy of the future is interwoven with the history of the past ; and every deliberative orator, whose views of a proposed measure are directed by facts within his own knowledge, must lay Ijefore his hearers, in justification of his opinions, as well the facts them- selves, as their connexion with the benefits or dis- advantages of the measure, which he recommends or dissuades. In demonstrative oratory, so far as tliis is made the vehicle of panegyric or of censure, narration is equally necessary. A character can be justly commended or reprobated only on account of the deeds, by which it has been distinguished ; and these deeds can be emblazoned only b}- means of a narrative. But in all such cases, when the narrative does not contain the whole proposition within itself, there is no necessity, nor even would there be any propriety in confining this part of the discourse to a separate location, immediately subsequent to the introduction. It should be introduced occa- 414 NARRATION. [lECT. XVIII. sionally in any part of the speech, intermingled with discussion, diversified by argument, assum- ed, laid aside, and again renewed, as may serve the purpose of the speaker. The Manilian law was an act of the Roman people, proposed by the tribune, Manilius, giving the command of tlic army by an extraordinary commission, and with unusual powers, to Pompey, for the purpose of finishing the war against Mith- ridates. The celebrated oration of Cicero upon that subject was delivered with a view to prevail upon the people to bestow this unprecedented fa- vor, and to place this uncommon trust in Pompey. The expediency of the act was to be proved by arg-uments, drawn fi-om the nature of the war and the character of the proposed commander. This oration therefore partook both of the deliberative and of the demonstrative class ; and a distinct nar- rative was necessary to both. The nature of the war was to be manifested by a narrative of the most important events, which had marked its progress. The character of Pompey was to be recommended by a narrative of his prior achieve- ments. It was the first occasion, upon which Cic- ero ever addressed the assembly of the people, and he labored his discourse with more than ordinary LECT. XVIII.] NARRATION. 415 solicitude ; stimulated at once by the treble mo- tive of serving his friend, of maintaining his own influence with the people, and of obtaining a gen- eral adequate to the exigences of the war. The narration is double ; one part detailing tlie disasters of the war, and the other extolling the exploits of Pompey. They both contril^ute essentially to the object of the discourse, but neither of them con- tains it entirely. They ai'e indeed placed in strict conformity to the rules, in immediate connexion together, and follow directly after the introduction. But, as they were narrations merely destined to il- lustrate particular arguments, they might have been produced in any other part of the discourse. This distinction it is proper to make even upon jury trials, where the najTation, entitled immedi- ately to succeed tlie introduction, can only be that, which embraces the facts in issue, and upon which tlie verdict is to be pronounced. There are likewise cases, when the naiTation even of judicial causes should be postponed for the consideration of other preliminaries besides the introduction. This is especially the case, when the orator has to combat strong prejudices against himself or his cause. The removal of such ob- stacles naturally belongs to the head of confutation ; 416 NARRATION. [lECT. XVIII. but it will sometimes be advisable to transfer them to an earlier stage of his discourse, and con- nect them immediately with his exordium. For the effect of unfavorable prejudice is to make the auditor unwilling to hear ; and very little indeed can be expected either of attention, benevolence, or docility, from that, against which the person addressed has barred his ears. But wheresoever the narration is introduced, whether in regular form immediately after the ex- ordium, or at any subsequent stage of the dis- course ; whether in one connected train, or in fre- quent and occasional recurrences, there are cer- tain peculiar characters, by which it should be distinguished. The most essential of these are brevity, perspicuity, probability. The brevity of a narration must however be a relative, rather than a positi^'e quality ; and always bear reference to the nature of the speaker's subject. That naiTa- tive is always sufficiently short, which is not over- charged v/ith any superfluous circumstances. Hence Aristotle, whose precision of intellect never suffered him to admit the use of general, indefinite terms, expressly denies that brevity can be includ- ed among the essentials of a narration. Its length, he contends, must be measured by the complica- LECT. XVIII.] NARRATION. 417 tion or the simplicity of the transactions to be told; and he says that the rhetoricians, who require that every narration should be short, may be answered like the baker, who asked his customer whether he should make his bread hard or soft. " Pray sir, cannot you make my bread good ?" This reasoning is obviously just. But some rule is as obviously necessary for curtailing super- fluities of narration ; nor is it impossible in pre- scribing brevity to indicate some criterion, by which the looseness of this general precept may be circumscribed. What is the use of the narration ? It is to lay the foundation for the speaker's argu- ment ; and the end, for W'hich it is introduced, is the best measure for marking its limits. Narra- tion, adduced as the basis of reasoning, comprises three periods of time, and three distinct links, chained in succession together; the important facts, the causes in which thty originated, and the consequences which flowed from tliem. The facts are composed of various incidents, the se- lection of which should be diversified according to the purpose, for which they are alledged. The same events are susceptible of very various narra- tives, all strictly conformable to the truth ; and the same assemblage of circumstances, which would 53 418 NARRATION. [lECT. XVIII. constitute a concise narrative for the purpose of il- lustrating an important argument, would be te- diously long if the position, which gives them pith and moment, were removed. Take for example the narration of Milo's de- parture from Rome, the day of the encounter, which terminated in the death of Clodius. " Mi- lo," says the orator, '* had attended that day in the senate, and after their adjournment went home, changed his shoes and garments, waited a little, as usual, for his wife to get ready, and finally left his house at a time, when Clodius, had he meant to return that day to Rome, must have been arrived. Clodius meets him on horseback, without carriage, without baggage, without his usual train of effem- inate Greeks, nay without his wife, which was almost unexampled ; while this supposed assassin, who is represented as having taken that road for the express purpose of murder, was travelling in his carriage, muffled up in his cloak, encumbered with a load of baggage, and surrounded by a deli- cate and timorous train of women and children," Suppose that the defence of Milo upon that trial had been like that in the case of Roscius of Ameria. Suppose the murder liad been commit- ted at Rome, and the object of Cicero had been to LECT. XVIII.] NARRATION. 419 show, that it was not and could not be com- mitted by Milo, because he was, at the time of its commission, in the country. The material fact of his departure from Rome would have been precisely the same ; but the narration must have been allogeiher difterent. The selection of incidents would have been varied, or omitted. 1 he purpose bemg merely to show that he was not at Rome, it would have been useless and im- pertinent to tell of his attendance in the senate ; of his change of clothing ; of his wife's adjustment of Cr'.p and ribbons ; of his cloak, his maid-servants, and his boys. In such a state of the cause those very incidents, which in the oration, as it now ap- pears, are selected with such consummate ad- dress, would have been tedious and ridiculous. In that case the absence from the city would alone have been material, and the narration might have been comprised in half a line. But here the ob- ject was to exhibit Milo in a certain state of mind, for the purpose of convincing the judges, that his meeting with Clodius was on his part unpremedi- tated. What an admirable grouping of incidents to produce this efiect ! In Shakspeare's tragedy of Julius Caesar, the poet makes the principal con- spirator of Caesar's death describe the state of 420 NARRATION. [lECT. XVIII. mind, which in the human constitution precedes the commission of such unnatural deeds. " Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motioi\, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream ; The genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council ; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection." Cicero does not precisely say this ; but the whole tenor of his narration is founded upon tlie presump- tion, that the judges would feel what extreme agi- tation of deportment, and what a fearful conflict of the passions accompanies in the human breast the premeditation of murder. Milo was a senator. He had on the same day, when Clodius was killed, attended the meeting of the senate, and had not left that assembly until after their adjournment. To a superficial observer of human nature it were perhaps impossible to select an incident less enti- tled to notice in a narrative than this. Why, no doubt Milo, like the other senators, habitually at- tended the meetings of the senate, and waited for the adjournment to go home. True; but this regular recurrence to his ordinary daily occupation has a tendency to show, that he was not in the con- lECT. XVIII.] NARRATION. 421 vulsive agitations of a laboring crime. The set- tled intent of murder would have produced a de- viation from the common round of business. He would not have attended at the senate at all ; or he would have left the assembly before its adjourn- ment, had the bloody purpose been teeming in his soul. A purpose of murder would have absorbed all his faculties. He could not have enjoyed the composure of spirit, nor the coolness of recollection to go home and change his clothes, and wait for the lingering arrangements of a lady's dress. Still less would he have thought of taking her with her chambermaids and boys in his retinue. This is the argument, which Cicero intends to raise from the facts, thus recapitulated ; and the bare notice of circumstances, thus trifling in them- selves, prepares the minds of the judges for the reception of his defence. By turning to the sub- sequent argumentative part of the same oration, you will see witli what earnestness and force he dwells upon these incidents seemingly so slight, as affording the clearest demonstration of Milo's in- nocence. To comply then with the requisition, that the narration should be short, it will be sufficient to remember that you must begin precisely with that 422 NARRATION. [lECT. XVHI. incident, which is material to the argument you intend to urge ; and, as you proceed, to suppress everv circumstance, which has no relation to it. For the purjxjse of brevity you must exclude likewise tvery part of a transaction, necessarily implied in the statement of the fact itself. Sup- pose in the narrative of a journey you should say, Ave came to the river, inquired the rate of ferriage, entered the boat, were rowed across, and landed on the opposite shore ; every part of this relation, considered separately, is as short as it could be made ; but " we crossed the river" would tell the same fact in four words. The rule of brevity is not necessaiy f'^r the purpose of proscribing repetitions and tautolog5% For however allowable it might be to protract the narration, these would still be inudtnissi >le. Bat, in the endeavour to avoid these faults, we must be no less careful to avoid those of confusion ai id ob- scurity. This was the caution of Horace to the poets, " brevis esse laboro, obscurus tio." And the danger is still more incident to an orator, over anxious of brevity in his narration. The danger of • redundancy too is not of such vital importance, as that of obscurity. By saying too much the speaker may become tedious. But in saying too LECT. XVIII.] NARRATION. 423 little he puts in jeopardy the very justice of his Cause. So that the precept of brevity must be relative, not only with regard to the character of the cause, but also with regiu-d to that of the au- dience. Nothing, already known to all his hear- ers, can be essential to the narration of a speaker. To a very select and intelligent bod} a con- cise summary will fully answer the end of a nar- rative, when to a numerous, popular assembly, or to an ordinary jury a circumstantial detail might be indispensable to make them understand your subject. If the narrative comprehends events so multifarious and complicated, that it must be pos- itively long, it will be most advisable to divide it into several distinct periods, and mark the divis- ions either by formal enumeration, or as the rela- tion proceeds, so that the mind of your hearer may dwell upon them, as resting stages for his attention. Nor let the love of brevity preclude the seasoning of occasional ornament. As yoii lead your hearer along, scatter fragrance in his path. Spread the smiling landscape around. With the attractive charm of fancy make all na- ture beauty to his eye and music to his ear. The road will then never be long. 424 NARRATION. [lECT. XVIII. The second of the qualities essential to a good narration is clearness or perspicuity ; to obtain which the speaker must use plain, intelligible lan- guage, never descending to vulgaiity; never soar- ing into affectation. He must mark with obvious distinctions the things, persons, times, places, and motives, of which he discourses ; and observe a due conformity of voice, action, and delivery, to the substance of his speech. He must fasten the attention of his hearers altogether upon the facts, which he is relating ; and, instead of attracting it, use his most strenuous endeavours to withdraw it from the manner, in which he tells the story. Let him relate so that every hearer may seem to have been present at the scene, and may fancy that he could himself have told it exactly so. If the ora- tor labors here for admiration, he must earn it at the expense of his credit. He will be applauded, and not understood, or not believed. The same principle dictates the rule of proba- bility. The facts are to constitute the foundation for the reasoning ; of course the great object of the narration is to obtain belief. In the other parts of the discourse the speaker may plead some excuse for aiming to attract some of the hearer's attention to himself. The success of lECT. XVIII.] NARRATION. 425 the orator might not be lost, though his audience should sometimes think that he reasons forcibly, or deeply feels his subject. But once give your hearer time, while your story is telling, to think, this man tells his story well, and ten to one but vour cause is lost. He had much better think you tell it ill. Art and labor may naturally be ex- pected elsewhere ; but in the narration they must not even be suspected. You want the acquies- cence of your hearer's mind not to the goodness, but to the truth of what you say. You may per- haps inquire, why then the precept is not that the narrative should be ti'ue ? It is undoubtedly of great importance to an orator that his statement of facts should be true ; but this is not included among the precepts of his art, for t\\-o reasons ; first because the truth of his statement does not always depend upon himself. His narrative must generally be founded upon the testimony of oth- ers, and he cannot be responsible for its truth. And secondly because the truth is not by itself sufficient to obtain the hearer's belief. Tliere is a natural connexion between truth and probabili- ty ; and so strong is this connexion, that an audi- ence is seldom willing to admit any other test of that truth, which thev cannot certainly know, but 54 426 NARRATION. [lECT. XVIII. that probability, of which all can judge. Hence it follows, that an improbable truth is less adapted to obtain belief, than a probable falsehood. And hence the rhetorical instruction to an orator is not " make your narration true ;" but make your nar- ration probable. To observe the rule of probability, you must in the first place, by a severe and impartial scrutiny and comparison of incidents, exert your faculties to discover the truth ; and lay it down as a max- im of rhetoric no less than of morality, never to give for truth what you know to be false. You must then trace and exhibit a natural connexion between your facts, their causes, and the motives, in which they originated. You should give inti- mations of character, which may account for the acts of persons, which form a part of your relation. You should observe all the conformi- ties of time, place, and circumstance; and as there is in all human transactions a sort of ho- mogeneous congruity of facts, you must be at- tentive to give your narrative that natural air of truth, which forms the first excellence of dramatic representation. If the first part of the story be properl);^ told, it will prepare the hearer for the sequel, and even for the substance of the argu- LECT. XVIII.] NARRATION. 427 ment. As the narrative is the foundation, upon which the proof or confirmation is to be built, whatsoever is tliere to be cnlai'ged upon, tlie char- acters, time, place, motives, and occasions, are to be first sketched in the narration. In addition to these rules some rhetorical teach- ers consider the narration as requiring peculiar dignity of language, and loftiness of expression. A more judicious rule will be to diversify the- style according to the nature of die subject to be related. Digressions should here seldom be in- dulged, and always be short. Exclamations, fig- ures of tlie higli poetical character, personifica- tions, formal arguments, and forceful appeals to the passions, have no place here ; for tlicy would extend the narrative to unnecessary length, or veil it with obscurity, or impair its credibility. But of all the parts of an oration the narrative is that, which calls for the profoundcst art, for that art, which disguises itself, for that " callidissima sim- plicitatis imitatio," wliich belongs only to the most eloquent of men. It is the part, which re- quires graces of the most delicate refinement, beauties of the most exquisite polish. But the speaker must cling to the character of his subject. In causes of a private character and of minor impor 428 NARRATION. [lECT. XVIII. tance, he must present only those modest, unas- suming graces, whicli attam distmction by flying from notice. Every word should be selected for its meaning, and bear the sterling stamp of signifi- cancy. Yet his simplicity must not be plain ; his purity must not be barren. The discourse should be seasoned with pleasantry ; the language quickened with variety. The attention of the auditory seldom fixes up- on any part of a public speaker's performance so intensel}', as upon his narration. There is some- thing in the nature of narrative interesting to all mankind ; and it is owing to this propensity, that the most popular of all reading in every stage of society subsequent to the introduction of letters, and at every period of life, is history, real or ficti- tious. Hence the general fondness for biography. Hence the still more universal attachment to ro- mances, novels, and ballads. But, independent of this passion for hearing stories told, the auditory have a further stimulus to attention in the wish to form their own judgment from the facts. They suppose themselves as able to reason and draw conclusions, as the orator himself; and they give themselves credit for as much feeling, as he can display. There is upon most judicial trials a spir- IfiCT. XVIII.] NARRATION. 429 it of pride and of self love in the judge or jury, which gives birth to a professed principle of total disregard to the argument or eloquence of the ad- vocate, and glories in making up the decision ex- clusively upon the facts. At the narration alone, jealousy, suspicion, and self complacency may be lulled to sleep in exact proportion, as attention is awakened. The pleasure of the hearer imi^ercepti- bly ripens into judgment; and, in surrendering en- tire acquiescence to the narrative of the orator, the judge or juror fancies he has pronounced upon the naked facts, without any bias from the oratory of the pleader. The credit of a narrative must therefore always depend much upon that of the narrator. An es- tablished reputation for veracity is often equivalent to a cloud of witnesses. This reputation it be- hooves then every public speaker to acquire by the general tenor of his life, and the uniform adherence to truth. This acquisition can be made only by de- grees, and in process of time. \\'hen once attain- ed, it calls for the same solicitude to be retained ; and the public speaker should never forget, that a single detected deviation from truth may forfeit the accumulated confidence of many spotless years. 430 NARRATION. [lECT. XVIII, One of the most powerful arts of narration is to intersperse the relation with such sensible ima- ges, as present the scene to the hearer's eye. All narrative is a species of imitation. It is the repre- sentation to the mind by the means of speech of events, which have before been the olDJects of observation. The more picturesque then a nar- ration is made, the closer is its resemblance to the truth, and the better adapted must it be to ob- tain belief. The preeminence of the eye over the ear, as a judge of imitation, is remarked by Horace, whose principles of taste, though prescrib- ed only for the composition of poetr}-, are univer- sally applicable to all the fine arts. Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem, Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, et quae Ipse sibi tradit spectator. ART. POET. 180. A passage, which has been well translated by Roscommon. But what we hear moves less, than what we see ; Spectators only have their eyes to trust, But auditors must trust their ears and you. This talent of picturesque description furnish- es one of the surest tests for the genius of an ora- LECT. XVIII. 1 NARRATION. 431 • tor. The power of painting by speech cannot, like the expression of sentiments or of passions, be borrowed from others. It requires accuracy of observation, correctness of judgment, and facil- ity of communication ; an union of faculties, be- stowed only upon the darlings of nature. But as, if attainable at all by exertions of your own, it must be rather by the contemplation of examples, than from the abstraction of precepts, I shall at a future stage of our inquiries invite your attention to some of those imperishable models, which have commanded the admiration of ages, and survived the revolutions of empires ; which may teach you what to do, by showing you what has been done. zyi> OF vor.. i. '?l^. < Date Due ^....^■.^CL mt,^t%i ■r^ Vi)/ )• " ^ ' HAvp'oap. «IA.! 10 ■■■2 -uyLiljjLlLj ENGL SH 1 / l(^ 3-DAY RFJ5F*?VF 1 1 I Form 335— 25M— 7-35— B-:M.rii -H ^ ^w -^ > L: 'T CD ^ • CO n C ^,~ oi M M a - .-T r^l ■ . CO fN. . 808.5 A214L V.l Adams 2766C6 Lectures -on Rhetoric and Oratory I 803.5 A314L V.l 276306