"■ « ^^ 1 TyA J r- \ i ; ^ *aicfl w M I &iS! ^J 'Cr-Mr-^ F t! y/>/f ; /^ //rff /e ^ PRINCETON, N. J. ^' Presented by Mr. William A. Wheelock of New York City, Division Section N^umbcr 6^C ELEMENTS RHETORIC. COMPRISING THE SUBSTANCE OF THE ARTICLE IN THE ENCYCLOPEDIA METROPOLITANA WITH ADDITIONS, &c. /BY RICHARD WHATELY, D.D. ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN. 'O yap ypovs, Ka\ /xr) cracpws otSci^as, eV fcnjj ei /col fir] iv€0v(j.ri97}. FIFTH EDITION, REVISED. LONDON: B. FELLOWES, LUDGATE STREET. 1836. LONDON ; u. clay, printer, bread-street hill, doctors' commons. PREFACE. A BRIEF outline of the principal part of the following Work was sketched out several years ago for the private use of some young friends ; and from that MS. chiefly, the Article " Rhetoric" in the Encyclopaedia Metropolitana was afterwards drawn up. I was induced to believe that it might be more useful if published in a separate form ; and I have accordingly, with the assistance of some friends, revised the treatise, and made a few additions and other alterations which sug- gested themselves ; besides dividing it in a manner more convenient for reference. The title of "Rhetoric," I have thought it best on the whole to retain, as being that by which the Article in the Encyclopaedia is a2 IV PREFACE. designated, as I should be unwilling to lay myself open to the suspicion of wishing to pass off as new, on the strength of a new name, what had been already before the public. But the title is in some respects open to objection. Besides that it is rather the more commonly employed in reference to public Speaking alone, it is also apt to suggest to many minds an associated idea of empty declamation, or of dishonest artifice. The subject indeed stands perhaps but a few degrees above Logic in popular estima- tion ; the one being generally regarded by the vulgar as the Art of bewildering the learned by frivolous subtleties ; the other, that of deluding the multitude by specious falsehood. And if a treatise on composition be itself more favourably received than the work of a Logician, the Author of it must yet labour imder still greater disadvantages. He may be thought to challenge criticism ; and his own performances may be con- demned by a reference to his own precepts ; or, on the other hand, his precepts may be undervalued, through his own failures in their application. Should this take place in the present instance, I have only to urge, with PREFACE. Horace in his Art of Poetry, that a whet- stone, though itself incapable of cutting, is yet useful in sharpening steel. No system of instruction will completely equalize natural powers ; and yet it may be of service towards their improvement. A youthful Achilles may acquire skill in hurling the javelin under the instruction of a Chiron, though the master may not be able to compete with the pupil in vigour of arm. As for any display of florid eloquence and oratorical ornament, my deficiency in which is likely to be remarked, it may be sufficient to observe, that if I had intended to practise any arts of this kind, I should have been the less likely to treat of them. To develop and explain the principles of any kind of trick, would be a most unwise procedure in any one who purposes to employ it ; though per- fectly consistent for one whose object is to put others on their guard against it. The juggler is the last person that would let the spectators into his own secret. It may perhaps be hardly necessary to observe, that the following pages are designed principally for the instruction of tin practised VI PREFACE. writers. Of such as have long been in the habit of writing or speaking, those whose procedure has been conformable to the rules I have laid dov/n, will of course have antici- pated most of my observations ; and those again who have proceeded on opposite prin- ciples, will be more likely to censure, as it were in self-defence, than laboriously to unlearn what they have perhaps laboriously acquired, and to set out afresh on a new system. But I am encouraged, partly by the result of experiments, to entertain a hope that the present System may prove useful to such as have their method of composition, and their style of writing and of delivery to acquire. And an Author ought to be con- tent if a work be found in some instances not unprofitable, which cannot, from its nature, be expected to pass completely un- censured. Whoever indeed, in treating of any sub- ject, recommends (whether on good or bad grounds) a departure from established prac- tice, must expect to encounter opposition. This opposition does not indeed imply that his precepts are right ; but neither does it prove them wrong ; it only implies that they PREFACE. Vll are new, since few will readily acknowledge the plans on which they have long been proceeding, to be mistaken. If a treatise therefore on the present subject were re- ceived with immediate, universal, and un- qualified approbation, this circumstance, though it would not indeed prove it to be erroneous, (since it is conceivable that the methods commonly pursued may be alto- gether right,) yet would afford a presump- tion that there was not much to be learnt from it. On the other hand, the more deep-rooted and generally prevalent any error may be, the less favourably, at first, will its refutation (though proportionably the more important) be for the most part received. With respect to what are commonly called Rhetorical Artifices — contrivances for " making the worse appear the better reason," — it would have savoured of pe- dantic morality to give solemn admonitions against employing them, or to enter a formal disclaimer of dishonest intention ; since, after all, the generality will, according to their respective characters, make what use Vm PREFACE. of a book they think fit, without waiting for the Author's permission. But what I have endeavoured to do, is, clearly to set forth, as far as I could, (as Bacon does in his Essay on Cunning,) these sopliistical tricks of the Art ; and as far as I may have succeeded in this, I shall have been providing the only effectual check to the employment of them. The adulterators of food or of drugs, and the coiners of base money, keep their processes a secret, and dread no one so much as him who detects, describes, and proclaims their contrivances, and thus puts men on their guard ; for " every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be made manifest." To the prevailing association of the term *' Rhetoric," with the idea of these delusive contrivances, may be traced the opinion (which I believe is also common) that the power of eloquence is lost on those who themselves possess it; or at least that a critical knowledge of the art of Composi- tion fortifies any one, in proportion to his proficiency, against being affected by the persuasive powers of another. This is un- PREFACE. IX doubtedlj true, as far as Sophistical skill is concerned. The better acquainted one is with any kind of rhetorical trick, the less liable he is to be misled by it. The Artifices, strictly so called, of the Orator, are, ■ — like tricks by sleight of hand, Which to admire, one should not understand : and he who has himself been behind the scenes of a puppet-show, and pulled the strings by which the figures are moved, is not likely to be much affected by their performance. This is indeed one great recommendation of the stwly of Rhetoric, that it furnishes the most effectual antidote against deception of this kind. But it is by no means true that acquaintance with an Art — in the nobler sense of the word, — not as consisting in juggling tricks, — tends to diminish our sensibility to the most excellent productions of Art. The greatest proficients in music are usually the most enthusiastic admirers of good music : the best Painters and Poets, and such as are best versed in the principles of those arts, are in general (when rivalry is out of the question) the most powerfully afl'ccted by PREFACE. paintings and by poetry, of superior excel- lence. And none I believe are more open to the impression of sound, honest, manly eloquence, than those who display it in their own compositions, and are capable of analysing critically the mode in which its effects are produced. A few passages will be found in the fol- lowing pages which presuppose some ac- quaintance with Logic ; but the greatest part will, I trust, be intelligible to those who have not this knowledge. At the same time, it is implied by what I have said of that Science, and indeed by the very circumstance of my having written on it, that I cannot but consider him as under- taking a task of unnecessary difficulty, who endeavours, without studying Logic, to be- come a thoroughly good argumentative writer. It may be thought that some apology is necessary for the frequent reference made to the treatise just mentioned, and, occa- sionally, to some other works of my own. It appeared to me, however, that either of the other two alternatives would have been PREFACE. XI more objectionable ; viz. either to omit entirely much that was needful for the elucidation of the subject in hand ; or, to repeat, in the same or in other words, what had been already published. Perhaps some apology may also be thought necessary for the various illustrations, se- lected from several authors, or framed for the occasion, which occur both in the pre- sent treatise, and in that on Logic ; and in which, opinions on various subjects are hicidentally conveyed ; in all of which, it cannot be expected that every one of my readers will concur. And some may accord- ingly be disposed to complain that they cannot put these works into the hands of any young person under their care, without a risk of his imbibing notions which they think erroneous. This objection, I have reason to believe, has been especially felt, though not always explicitly stated, by the most decidedly antichristian writers of the present day. But it should be remembered, that Logic and Rhetoric having no proper subject-matter of their own, it was necessary to resort to other departments of knowledge for exemplifications of the principles laid Xll PREFACE. 4 down ; and it would have been impossible, without confining myself to the most insipid truisms, to avoid completely all topics on which there exists any difference of opinion. If, in the course of either work, I have advocated any erroneous tenet, the obvious remedy is, to refute it. I am utterly uncon- scious of having in any instance resorted to the employment of fallacy, or substituted declamation for argument ; but if any such faults exist, it is easy to expose them. Nor is it necessary that when any book is put into the hands of a young student, he should understand that he is to adopt implicitly every doctrine contained in it, or should not be cautioned against any erroneous principles which it mav inculcate : otherwise indeed, it [would be impossible to give young men what is called a classical education, without making them Pagans. That I have avowed an assent to the evidences of Christianity, {that, I believe, is the point on which the greatest soreness is felt,) and that this does incidentally imply some censure of those who reject it, is not to be denied. But they again are at liberty, and they are not backward in using their PREFACE. Xlll liberty, to repel the censure, by refuting, if they can, those evidences. And as long as they confine themselves to calm argument- ation, and abstain from insult, libellous per- sonality, and falsification of facts, I earnestly hope no force will ever be employed to silence them, except force of argument. I am not one of those jealous lovers of freedom who would fiiin keep it all to themselves ; nor do I dread ultimate danger to the cause of truth from fair discussion* It may be objected by some, that in the foregoing words I have put forth a challenge which cannot be accepted ; inasmuch as it has been declared by the highest legal au- thorities, that *' Christianity is part of the Law of the Land ;" and consequently any one who impugns it, is liable to prosecution. What is the precise meaning of the above legal maxim, I do not profess to determine; having never met with any one who could explain it to me : but evidently the mere circumstance, that we have a Religion by Law established, does not, of itself, imply the illegality of arguing against that Religion. * See Speech on Jews' Relief Bill, and Remarks appended to it. Vol. of Tracts, &c. pp. 419—446. XIV PREFACE. The regulations of Trade and of Navigation, for instance, are unquestionably part of the Law of the Land ; but the question of their expediency is freely discussed, and frequently in no very measured language ; nor did I ever hear of any one's being menaced with prosecution for censuring them. I presume not however to decide what steps might, legally, be taken ; I am looking only to facts and probabilities ; and I feel a confident trust, as well as hope, (and that, founded on experience of the past,) that no legal penalties will, in fact, be incurred by temperate, decent, argumentative maintainers even of the most erroneous opinions. I have only to add my acknowledgments to those friends for whose kind and judicious suggestions I am so much indebted ; and to assure them, that whatever may be the public reception of the work, I shall never cease to feel flattered and obliged by the diligent at- tention they have bestowed on it. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION. Definitions of Rhetoric ...... 1 History of Rhetoric ..... .9 Assiduous cultivation of Rhetoric by the ancients . 13 Utihty of rules for Composition . . . .17 Exercises in Composition . . . . .22 PART I. OF THE ADDRESS TO THE UNDERSTANDING, WITH A VIEW TO PRODUCE CONVICTION (INCLUDING INSTRUCTION.) Chap. I. Of Propostions to be maintained . . 33 II. Of Arguments 39 III. Of the various use and order of the several kinds of Propositions and of Arguments in different cases .... 100 IV. Of Introductions .... .162 XVI CONTENTS. PART II. OF THE ADDRESS TO THE WILL, OR PERSUASION. Chap. I. Introductory considerations . . . 169 II. Of the conduct of any address to the feelings generally . . . . . .185 III. Of the favourable or unfavourable disposi- tion of the Hearers or Readers towards the Speaker or Writer, and his opponent 206 PART III. OF STYLE. Chap. I. Of Perspicuity of Style . . . .237 II. Of Energy, or Vivacity of Style . . .257 III. Of Elegance, or Beauty of Style . .337 PART IV. OF ELOCUTION OR DELIVERY. Chap. I. General considerations relative to Elocution 353 II. The Artificial and Natural modes of Elo- cution compared .... 366 III. Considerations arising from the differences between Reading and Speaking . . 379 IV. Practical deductions from the foregoing views 403 APPENDIX. Containing extracts from Authors, with remarks . . 425 'TO ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. INTRODUCTION. § 1. Of Rhetoric various definitions have been yanous de- nnitions of given by different writers ; who, however, ^^''°"' seem not so much to have disagreed in their conceptions of the nature of the same thing, as to have had different things in view while they employed the same term. Not only the word Rhetoric itself, but also those used in defining it, have been taken in various senses ; as may be observed with respect to the word " Art" in Cic. de Orat. where a dis- cussion is introduced as to the applicability of that term to Rhetoric ; manifestly turning on the different senses in which " Art " may be understood. To enter into an examination of all the definitions that have been given, would lead to much uninteresting and uninstructive verbal controversy. It is sufficient to put the reader 111 2 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. § 1 on his guard against the common error of supposing that a general term has some real object, properly corresponding to it, inde- pendent of our conceptions ; — that, conse- quently, some one definition is to be found which will comprehend every thing that is rightly designated by that term ; — and that all others must be erroneous : whereas, in fact, it will often happen, as in the present instance, that both the wider, and the more restricted sense of a term, will be alike sanctioned by use, (the only competent authority,) and that the consequence will be a corresponding varia- tion in the definitions employed ; none of which perhaps may be fairly chargeable with error, though none can be framed that will apply to every acceptation of the term. It is evident that in its primary signification. Rhetoric had reference to public Speaking alone, as its etymology implies : but as most of the rules for speaking are of course appli- cable equally to Writing, an extension of the term naturally took place ; and we find even Aristotle, the earliest systematic writer on the subject whose works have come down to us, including in his Treatise rules for such com- positions as were not intended to be publicly recited.* And even as far as relates to * Aristot. Rhet. book iii. § 1. INTRODUCTION. 3 Speeches, properly so called, he takes, in the same Treatise, at one time, a wider, and at another, a more restricted view of the subject; including under the term Rhetoric, in the opening of his work, nothing beyond the finding of topics of Persuasion, as far as re- gards the matter of what is spoken ; and after- wards embracing the consideration of Style, Arrangement, and Delivery. The invention of Printing,* by extending the sphere of operation of the Writer, has of course contributed to the extension of those terms which, in their primary signification, had reference to Speaking alone. Many objects are now accomplished through the medium of the Press, which formerly came under the exclusive province of the Orator; and the qualifications requisite for success are so much the same in both cases, that we apply the term " Eloquent " as readily to a Writer as to a Speaker ; though, etymologically considered, it could only belong to the latter. Indeed *' Eloquence " is often attributed even to such compositions, e. g. Historical works, as have * Or rather of Paper ; for the invention of printing is too obvious not to have speedily followed, in a literary nation, the introduction of a paper sufficiently cheap to make the art available. Indeed the seals of the ancients seem to have been a kind of stamps, with which they in fact printed their names. B 2 4 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. § h in view an object entirely different from any that could be proposed by an Orator ; because some part of the rules to be observed in Oratory, or rules analogous to these, are applicable to such compositions. Conformably to this view therefore, some writers have spoken of Rhetoric as the Art of Composition, universally ; or, with the exclusion of Poetry alone, as embracing all Prose-composition. A still wider extension of the province of Rhetoric has been contended for by some of the ancient writers ; who, thinking it neces- sary to include, as belonging to the Art, every thing that could conduce to the attainment of the object proposed, introduced into their systems Treatises on Law, Morals, Politics, &c. on the ground that a knowledge of these sub- jects was requisite to enable a man to speak well on them : and even insisted on Virtue * as an essential quahfication of a perfect Orator ; because a good character, which can in no way be so surely established as by deserving it, has great weight with the audience. Aristotle's These notions are combated by Aristotle ; censure of his i 'n i • predecessors. y^r\iQ attrlbutcs them either to the lU-cultivated understanding {aTratSeva-la) of those who main- tained them, or to their arrogant and pre- tending disposition, aka^ovela ; i, e. a desire * See Quinctilian. § 1. INTRODUCTION. 5 to extol and magnify the Art they professed. In the present day, the extravagance of such doctrines is so apparent to most readers, that it would not be worth while to take much pains in refuting them. It is worthy of re- mark, however, that the very same erroneous view is, even now, often taken of Logic ; * which has been considered by some as a kind of system of universal knowledge, on the ground that Argument may be employed on all subjects, and that no one can argue well on a subject which he does not understand ; and which has been complained of by others for not supplying any such universal instruction as its unskilful advocates have placed within its province ; such as in fact no one Art or System can possibly afford. The error is precisely the same in respect of Rhetoric and of Logic ; both being instru- mental arts ; and, as such, applicable to various kinds of subject-matter, which do not properly come under them. So judicious an author as Quinctilian would not have failed to perceive, had he not been carried away by an inordinate veneration for his own Art, that as the possession of building materials is no part of the art of Architecture, * Elements of Logic, Introd. 6 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. § 1. though it is impossible to build without mate- rials, so, the knowledge of the subjects on which the Orator is to speak, constitutes no part of the art of Rhetoric, though it be essen- tial to its successful employment ; and that though virtue, and the good reputation it procures, add materially to the Speaker's influence, they are no more to be, for that reason, considered as belonging to the Orator, as such, than wealth, rank, or a good person, which manifestly have a tendency to produce the same effect. Extremes in lu thc preseut day, however, the province the limitation andexten- gf RhetoHc, lu the wldest acceptation that sion of the ' i Rhltoric."'^ would be reckoned admissible, comprehends all " Composition in Prose ;" in the narrowest sense, it would be limited to " Persuasive Speaking." Object of the I propose in the present work to adopt a present Trea- ir ir "^^- middle course between these two extreme points ; and to treat of Argumentative Compo- sition, generally, and exclusively ; considering Rhetoric (in conformity with the very just and philosophical view of Aristotle) as an ofF-shoot from Logic. I remarked in treating of that Science, that Reasoning may be considered as applicable to two purposes, which I ventured to designate' respectively by the terms '' Inferring," and § 1. INTRODUCTION. 7 " Proving ;" i. e. the ascertainment of the truth by investigation, and the establishment of it to the satisfaction of another: and I there re- marked, that Bacon, in his Organon, has laid down rules for the conduct of the former of these processes, and that the latter belongs to the province of Rhetoric : and it was added, pimosophy and Rhetori that to infer is to be regarded as the proper compared. office of the Philosopher, or the Judge ; — to prove, of the Advocate. It is not however to be understood that Philosophical works are to be excluded from the class to which Rhetorical rules are applicable ; for the Philosopher who undertakes, by writing or speaking, to convey his notions to others, assumes, for the time being, the character of Advocate of the doc- trines he maintains. The process of investiga- tion must be supposed completed, and certain conclusions arrived at by that process, before he begins to impart his ideas to others in a treatise or lecture ; the object of which must of course be to prove the justness of those conclusions. And in doing this, he will not always find it expedient to adhere to the same course of reasoning by which his own disco- veries were originally made ; other arguments may occur to him afterwards, more clear, or more concise, or better adapted to the under- standing of those he addresses. In explaining 8 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. § 1. therefore, and establishing the truth, he may often have occasion for rules of a different kind from those employed in its discovery. Accordingly, when I remarked, in the work above alluded to, that it is a common fault, for those engaged in Philosophical and Theological inquiries, to forget their own peculiar office, and assume that of the Advocate, improperly, this caution is to be understood as applicable to the process oi forming their own opinions ; not, as excluding them from advocating by all fair arguments, the conclusions at which they have arrived by candid investigation. But if this candid investigation do not take place in the first instance, no pains that they may bestow in searching for arguments, will have any tendency to insure their attainment of truth. If a man begins (as is too plainly a frequent mode of proceeding) by hastily adopt- ing, or strongly leaning to some opinion, which suits his inclination, or which is sanctioned by some authority that he blindly venerates, and then studies with the utmost diligence, not as an Investigator of Truth, but as an Advocate labouring to prove his point, his talents and his researches, whatever effect they may pro- duce in making converts to his notions, will avail nothing in enlightening his own judg- ment, and securing him from error. § 2. INTRODUCTION. 9 Composition however, of the Argumentative kind, may be considered (as has been above stated) as coming under the province of Rhetoric. And this view of the subject is the less open to objection, inasmuch as it is not hkely to lead to discussions that can be deemed superfluous, even by those who may choose to consider Rhetoric in the most restricted sense, as relating only to " Per- suasive Speaking ;" since it is evident that Argument must be, in most cases at least, the basis of Persuasion. I propose then to treat, first and principally, pianofthe of the Discovery of Arguments, and of their ^'''^ Arrangement; secondly, to lay down some Rules respecting the excitement and manage- ment of the Passions, with a view to the attainment of any object proposed, — prin- cipally. Persuasion, in the strict sense, i. e. the influencing of the Will ; thirdly, to offer some remarks on Style ; and, fourthly, to treat of Elocution. § 2. It may be expected that, before I proceed ^jf^'^o^i"/ to treat of the Art in question, I should pre- sent the reader with a sketch of its history. Little however is required to be said on this 10 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. § 2. head, because the present is not one of those branches of study in which we can trace with interest a progressive improvement from age to age. It is one, on the contrary, to which more attention appears to have been paid, and in which greater proficiency is supposed to have been made, in the earhest days of Science and Literature, than at any subsequent period. Aristotle. Amoug the ancients, Aristotle, the earhest whose works are extant, may safely be pro- nounced to be also the best of the systematic Cicero. writers on Rhetoric. Cicero is hardly to be reckoned among the number ; for he delighted so much more in the practice than in the theory of his art, that he is perpetually drawn off from the rigid Philosophical analysis of its principles, into discursive declamations, always eloquent indeed, and often highly interesting, but adverse to regularity of system, and fre- quently as unsatisfactory to the practical student as to the Philosopher. He abounds indeed with excellent practical remarks, though the best of them are scattered up and down his works with much irregularity; but his precepts, though of great weight, as being the result of experience, are not often traced up by him to first principles; and we are fre- quently left to guess, not only on what basis his rules are grounded, but in what cases they §2. INTRODUCTION. 11 are applicable. Of this latter defect a remark- able instance will be hereafter cited. Quinctilian is indeed a systematic writer ; ouinctuian. but cannot be considered as having much extended the Philosophical views of his pre- decessors in this department. He possessed much good sense, but this was tinctured with pedantry ; — with that aka^ovela, as Aristotle calls it, which extends to an extravagant degree the province of the Art which he professes. A great part of his work indeed is a Treatise on Education, generally ; in the conduct of which he was no mean proficient ; for such was the importance attached to public speaking, even long after the downfall of the Republic had cut off the Orator from the hopes of attaining, through the means of this qualification, the highest political importance, that he who was nominally a Professor of Rhetoric, had in fact the most important branches of instruction intrusted to his care. Many valuable maxims however are to be found in this author ; but he wanted the pro- fundity of thought and power of analysis which Aristotle possessed. The writers on Rhetoric among the ancients whose works are lost, seem to have been numerous ; but most of them appear to have confined themselves to a very narrow view of 12 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. §2. the subject ; and to have been occupied, as Aristotle complains, with the minor details of style and arrangement, and with the sophis- tical tricks and petty artifices of the Pleader, instead of giving a masterly and comprehensive sketch of the essentials. Among the moderns, few writers of ability have turned their thoughts to the subject ; and but little has been added, either in respect of matter, or of system, to what the ancients have left us. It were most unjust however to leave Campbell, uuuoticed Dr. Campbell's Philosophy of Rhe- toric : a work which does not enjoy indeed so high a degree of popular favour as Dr. Blair's, but is incomparably superior to it, not only in depth of thought and ingenious original research, but also in practical utility to the student. The title of Dr. Campbell's work has perhaps deterred many readers, who have concluded it to be more abstruse and less popular in its character than it really is. Amidst much however that is readily under- stood by any moderately intelhgent reader, there is much also that calls for some exertion of thought, which the indolence of most readers refuses to bestow. And it must be owned that he also in some instances perplexes his readers by being perplexed himself, and be- wildered in the discussion of questions through § 3. INTRODUCTION. 13 which he does not clearly see his way. His great defect, which not only leads him into occasional errors, but leaves many of his best ideas but imperfectly developed, is his igno- rance and utter misconception of the nature and object of Logic ; on which some remarks are made in my Treatise on that Science. Rhetoric being in truth an oiF-shoot of Logic, that Rhetorician must labour under great dis- advantages who is not only ill -acquainted with that system, but also utterly unconscious of his deficiency. From a general view of the history of Rhe- toric, two questions naturally suggest them- selves, which on examination will be found very closely connected together : first, what is the cause of the careful and extensive cultiva- tion, among the ancients, of an Art which the moderns have comparatively neglected ; and secondly, whether the former or the latter are to be regarded as the wiser in this respect ; — in other words, whether Rhetoric be worth any diligent cultivation. With regard to the first of these questions. Assiduous cultivation of the answer generally given is, that the nature t^e^an'deiul of the Government in the ancient democratical States caused a demand for public speakers. 14 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. §3. and for such speakers as should be able to gain influence not only with educated persons in dispassionate deUberation, but with a pro- miscuous multitude ; and accordingly it is remarked, that the extinction of liberty brought with it, or at least brought after it, the decline of Eloquence; as is justly remarked (though in a courtly form) by the author of the dialogue on Oratory, which passes under the name of Tacitus : '* Quid enim opus est longis in Senatu sententiis, cum optimi cito coiisentiant f quid, multis apud populum coficionibus, cum de Re- piiblica non imperiti et multi deliberent, sed sapientissimus, et unus^" This account of the matter is undoubtedly correct as far as it goes ; but the importance of public-speaking is so great, in our own, and all other countries that are not under a despotic Government, that the apparent neglect of the study of Rhetoric seems to require some further explanation. Part of this explanation may be supplied by the consideration, that the difference in this respect between the ancients and ourselves is not so great in reality as in The ancients appcarauce. When the only way of addressing rather than thc Publlc was by oratlous, and when all readers. *^ political measures were debated in popular assemblies, the characters of Orator, Author, and Politician, almost entirely coincided ; he ^ § 3. INTRODUCTION. 15 who would communicate his ideas to the world, or would gain political power, and carry his legislative schemes into effect, was necessarily a Speaker ; since, as Pericles is made to remark by Thucydides, " one who forms a judgment on any point, but cannot explain himself clearly to the people, might as well have never thought at all on the subject."* The consequence was, that almost all who sought, and all who professed to give, instruction, in the principles of Government, and the conduct of judicial proceedings, combined these, in their minds and in their practice, with the study of Rhe- toric, which was necessary to give effect to all such attainments ; and in time the Rhetorical writers (of whom Aristotle makes that com- plaint) came to consider the Science of Legis- lation and of Politics in general, as a part of their own Art. Much therefore of what was formerly studied under the name of Rhetoric, is still, under other names, as generally and as dihgently studied as ever. It cannot be denied however that a great difference, though less, as I have said, than might at first sight appear, does exist between the ancients and the moderns in this point ; — * Thucydides, book ii. 16 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. §3. that what is strictly and properly called Rhetoric, is much less studied, at least less systematically studied, now, than formerly. Perhaps this also may be in some measure accounted for from the circumstances which Disavowal of havo bccu just noticed. Such is the distrust rhetorical . p t-» i • ^ • n studies excited by any suspicion of Rhetorical artifice, among the J J l ' moderns. ^^^^ evciy spcakcr or writer who is anxious to carry his point, endeavours to disown or to keep out of sight any superiority of skill ; and wishes to be considered as relying rather on the strength of his cause, and the soundness of his views, than on his ingenuity and expert- ness as an advocate. Hence it is, that even those who have paid the greatest and the most successful attention to the study of Composi- tion and of Elocution, are so far from encou- raging others by example or recommendation to engage in the same pursuit, that they labour rather to conceal and disavow their own pro- ficiency; and thus, theoretical rules are decried, even by those who owe the most to them. Whereas among the ancients, the same cause did not, for the reasons lately mentioned, operate to the same extent ; since, however careful any speaker might be to disown the artifices of Rhetoric properly so called, he would not be ashamed to acknowledge himself, generally, a student, or a proficient, in an Art §4. INTRODUCTION. 17 which was understood to include the elements of Political wisdom. §4. With regard to the other question proposed, utmty of Rhetoric. viz. concerning the utility of Rhetoric, it is to be observed that it divides itself into two ; first, whether Oratorical skill be, on the whole, a public benefit, or evil ; and secondly, whether any artificial system of Rules is conducive to the attainment of that skill. The former of these questions was eagerly debated among the ancients ; on the latter, but little doubt seems to have existed. With us, on the contrary, the state of these ques- tions seems nearly reversed. It seems gene- rally admitted that skill in Composition and in Speaking, liable as it evidently is to abuse, is to be considered on the whole, as advan- tageous to the Public ; because that liability to abuse is neither in this, nor in any other case, to be considered as conclusive against the utility of any kind of art, faculty, or pro- fession;— because the evil effects of misdirected power, require that equal powers should be arrayed on the opposite side; — and because truth, having an intrinsic superiority over falsehood, may be expected to prevail when the skill of the contending parties is equal ; c 18 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. ^4. which will be the more likely to take place, the more widely such skill is diffused.* But many, perhaps most persons, are inclined to the opinion that Eloquence, either in writing or speaking, is either a natural gift, or, at least, is to be acquired by mere practice, and is not to be attained or improved by any system of rules. And this opinion is favoured not least by those (as has been just observed) whose own experience would enable them to decide very differently ; and it certainly seems to be in a great degree practically adopted. Most persons, if not left entirely to the disposal of chance in respect of this branch of education, are at least left to acquire what they can by practice, such as school or college- exercises afford, without much care being taken to initiate them systematically into the principles of the Art ; and that, frequently, not so much from negligence in the conductors of education, as from their doubts of the utility of any such regular system. It certainly must be admitted, that rules not constructed on broad philosophical prin- ciples, are more likely to cramp than to assist the operations of our faculties; — that a pedantic display of technical skill is more * Arist.Rhet. ch. 1. §4. INTRODUCTION. 19 detrimental in this than in any other pursuit, since by exciting distrust, it counteracts the very purpose of it ; — that a system of rules imperfectly comprehended, or not familiarized by practice, will (while that continues to be the case) prove rather an impediment than a help ; as indeed will be found in all other arts likewise ; — and that no system can be expected to equalize men whose natural powers are different. But none of these concessions at all invalidate the positions of Aristotle ; that some succeed better than others in explaining their opinions, and bringing over others to them ; and that, not merely by superiority of natural gifts, but by acquired habit ; and that consequently if we can discover the causes of this superior success, — the means by which the desired end is attained by all who do attain it, — we shall be in possession of rules capable of general application : which is, says he, the proper office of an Art.* Experience so plainly evinces, what indeed we might naturally be led antecedently to conjecture, that a right judgment on any subject is not necessarily accompanied by skill in effecting conviction, — nor the ability to discover truth, by a facility in explaining it, — that it might be matter of wonder how any doubt should ever have * "Ottep fori TE)(\'riq epyov. — Rhet. book i. ch. 1. c 2 20 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. § 4. existed as to the possibility of devising, and the utihty of employing, a System of Rules for " Argumentative Composition," generally dis- tinct from any system conversant about the subject-matter of each composition. It is probable that the existing prejudices on this subject may be traced in great measure to the imperfect or incorrect notions of some writers, who have either confined their atten- tion to trifling minutiae of style, or at least have in some respect failed to take a suffi- ciently comprehensive view of the principles of the Art. One distinction especially is to be clearly laid down and carefully borne in mind by those who would form a correct idea of those principles ; viz. the distinction already noticed in the Elements of Logic, between an Art, and the Art. " An Art of Reasoning" would imply, " a Method or System of Rules by the observance of which one may Reason A rightly- correctly;" " the Art of Reasoning" would formed sys- cr^MhJ"'' imply a System of Rules to which every one powJrs. does conform (whether knowingly, or not) who reasons correctly : and such is Logic, con- sidered as an Art. In like manner " an Art of Composition" would imply " a System of Rules by which a good Composition may be produced;" " the Art of Composition," — " such rules as every good Composition must conform H' INTRODUCTION. 21 to/' whether the author of it had them in his mind or not. Of the former character appear to have been (among others) many of the Logical and Rhetorical Systems of Aristotle's predecessors in those departments. He him- self evidently takes the other and more philo- sophical view of both branches : as appears (in the case of Rhetoric) both from the plan he sets out with, that of investigating the causes of the success of all who do succeed in effect- ing conviction, and from several passages occurring in various parts of his treatise, which indicate how sedulously he was on his guard to conform to that plan. Those who have not attended to the important distinction just alluded to, are often disposed to feel wonder, if not weariness, at his reiterated remarks, that *' all men effect persuasion either in this way or in that ;" " it is impossible to attain such and such an object in any other way •/' &c. which doubtless were intended to remind his readers of the nature of his design ; viz. not to teach an Art of Rhetoric, but the Art ; — not to instruct them merely how conviction might be produced, but how it must. If this distinction were carefully kept in view by the teacher and by the learner of Rhetoric, we should no longer hear complaints of the natural powers being fettered by the Exercises in Composition. 22 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. § 5. formalities of a System ; since no such com- plaint can lie against a System whose rules are drawn from the invariable practice of all who succeed in attaining their proposed object. No one would expect that the study of Sir Joshua Reynolds's lectures would cramp the genius of the painter. No one complains of the rules of Grammar as fettering Language ; because it is understood that correct use is not founded on Grammar, but Grammar on correct use. A just system of Logic or of Rhetoric is analogous, in this respect, to Grammar. § 5. The chief reason probably for the existing prejudice against technical systems of Compo- sition, is to be found in the cramped, meagre, and feeble character of most of such essays, &c. as are avowedly composed according to the rules of any such system. It should be remembered, however, in the first place, that these are almost invariably the productions of learners ; it being usual for those who have attained proficiency, either to write without thinking of any rules, or to be desirous, (as has been said,) and, by their increased expert- ness, able, to conceal their employment of art. § 5. INTRODUCTION. 23 Now it is not fair to judge of the value of any system of rules, those of a drawing-master for instance, from the first awkward sketches of tyros in the art. Still less would it be fair to judge of one system, from the ill-success of another, whose rules were framed (as is the case with those ordinarily laid down for the use of students in Composition) on narrow, unphilosophical, and erroneous principles. But the circumstance which has mainly Difficulty in the compost- tended to produce the complaint alluded to, is, clses"^^''"' that in this case, the reverse takes place of the plan pursued in the learning of other arts ; in which it is usual to begin, for the sake of practice, with what is easiest; here, on the contrary, the tyro has usually a harder task assigned him, and one in which he is less likely to succeed, than he will meet with in the actual business of life. For it is undeniable that it is much the most difficult to find either propositions to maintain, or arguments to prove them — to know, in short, what to say, or how to say it — on any subject on which one has hardly any information, and no in- terest ; about which he knows little, and cares still less. Now the subjects usually proposed for School or College-exercises are (to the learners 24 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. § 5. themselves) precisely of this description. And hence it commonly happens, that an exercise composed with diligent care by a young stu- dent, though it will have cost him far more pains than a real letter written by him to his friends, on subjects that interest him, will be very greatly inferior to it. On the real occa- sions of after life, (I mean, when the object proposed is, not to fill up a sheet, a book, or an hour, but to communicate his thoughts, to convince, or persuade,) — on these real occa- sions, for which such exercises were designed to prepare him, he will find that he writes both better, and with more facility, than on the artificial occasion, as it may be called, of composing a declamation ; — that he has been attempting to learn the easier, by practising 111 effects the harder. But what is worse, it will often iTomexer- happeu that such exercises will have formed a habit of stringing together empty common- places, and vapid declamations, — of multiplying words and spreading out the matter thin, — of composing in a stiff, artificial, and frigid manner : and that this habit will more or less cling through life to one who has been thus trained, and will infect all his future compo- sitions. So strongly, it should seem, was Milton impressed with a sense of this danger, that he cises. § 5. INTRODUCTION. 25 was led to condemn the use altogether of exercises in Composition. In this opinion he stands perhaps alone among all writers on education. I should perhaps agree with him, if there were absolutely no other remedy for the evil in question ; for I am inclined to think that this part of education, if conducted as it often is, does in general more harm than good. But I am convinced, that practice in Com- position, both for boys and young men, may be so conducted as to be productive of many and most essential advantages. The obvious and the only preventive of the selection of subjects. evils which I have been speaking of is, a most scrupulous care in the selection of such subjects for exercises as are likely to be 'mte- resting to the student, and on which he has, or may (with pleasure, and without much toil) acquire, sufficient information. Such subjects will of course vary, according to the learner's age and intellectual advancement ; but they had better be rather below, than much above him ; that is, they should never be such as to induce him to string together vague general expressions, conveying no distinct ideas to his own mind, and second-hand sentiments which he does not feel. He may freely transplant indeed from other writers such thoughts as will 26 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. § 5. take root in the soil of his own mind ; but he must never be tempted to collect dried speci- mens. He must also be encouraged to express himself (in correct language indeed, but) in a free, natural, and simple style ; which of course implies (considering who and what the writer is supposed to be) such a style as, in itself, would be open to severe criticism, and certainly very unfit to appear in a book. Compositions on such subjects, and in such a style, would probably be regarded with a disdainful eye, as puerile, by those accustomed to the opposite mode of teaching. But it should be remembered that the compositions of boys must be puerile, in one way or the other : and to a person of unsophisticated and sound taste, the truly contemptible kind of puerility would be found in the other kind of exercises. Look at the letter of an intelligent youth to one of his companions, communi- cating inteUigence of such petty matters as are interesting to both — describing the scenes he has visited, and the recreations he has enjoyed, during a vacation ; and you will see a picture of the youth himself — boyish indeed in looks and in stature — in dress and de- meanour ; but lively, unfettered, natural, giving a fair promise for manhood, and, in short, what a boy should be. Look at a § 5. INTRODUCTION. 27 theme composed by the same youth, on " Virtus est medium vitiorum," or " Natura beatis omnibus esse dedit," and you will see a picture, of the same boy, dressed up in the garb, and absurdly aping the demeanour of an elderly man. Our ancestors (and still more recently, I believe, the continental nations) were guilty of the absurdity of dressing up children in wigs, swords, huge buckles, hoops, ruffles, and all the elaborate full-dressed finery of grown up people of that day.* It is surely reasonable that the analogous absurdity in greater matters also, among the rest in that part of education I am speaking of, should be laid aside ; and that we should in all points consider what is appropriate to each different period of life. The subjects for Composition to be selected classes of on the principle I am recommending, will generally fall under one of three classes : first, subjects drawn from the studies the learner is engaged in ; relating, for instance, to the characters or incidents of any history he may be reading; and sometimes, perhaps, leading him to forestall by conjecture, something which he will hereafter come to, in the book itself: secondly, subjects drawn from any * See " Sandford and Merton," passim. subjects for exercises. 28 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. § 5. conversation he may have hstened to (with interest) from his seniors, whether addressed to himself, or between each other : or, thirdly, relating to the amusements, familiar occm*- rences, and every-day-transactions, which are likely to have formed the topics of easy con- versation among his familiar friends. The student should not be confined too exclusively to any one of these three classes of subjects. They should be intermingled in as much variety as possible. And the teacher should frequently recall to his own mind these two considerations ; first, that since the benefit proposed does not consist in the intrinsic value of the composition, but in the exercise to the pupil's mind, it matters not how insig- nificant the subject may be, if it will but interest him, and thereby afford him such exercise ; secondly, that the younger and backwarder each student is, the more unfit he will be for abstract speculations ; and the less remote must be the subjects proposed from those individual objects and occurrences which always form the first beginnings of the furniture of the youthful mind.* * For some observations relative to the learning of Elocution, see Part iv. chap. iv. § 2. See also some valuable remarks on the subject of exercises injeomposi- tion in Mr. Hill's ingenious work on Public Education. § 5. INTRODUCTION. 29 If the system which I have been recom- mending be pursued, with the addition of sedulous care in correction — encouragement from the teacher — and inculcation of such general rules as each occasion calls for ; then, and not otherwise, Exercises in Composition will be of the most important and lasting advantage, not only in respect of the object immediatehj proposed, but in producing clear- ness of thought, and in giving play to all the faculties. And if this branch of education be thus conducted, then, and not otherwise, the greater part of the present treatise will, it is hoped, be found, not much less adapted to the use of those who are writing for practice-sake, than of those engaged in meet- ing the occasions of real life. One kind of exercise there is, — that of Debating so- Debating-Societies, — which ought not perhaps to be passed unnoticed, as different opinions prevail respecting its utility. It is certainly free from the objections which lie against the ordinary mode of theme-writing ; since the subjects discussed are usually such as the speakers feel a real interest in. But to young persons I think the exercise generally more hurtful than beneficial. When their faculties are in an immature state, and their knowledge scanty, crude, and imperfectly arranged, if cieties. 30 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. § 5. they are prematurely hurried into a habit of fluent elocution, they are likely to retain through life a careless readiness of pouring forth ill - digested thoughts in well - turned phrases, and an aversion to cautious reflection. A want of readiness of expression, in a man of well-disciplined mind, who has attentively studied his subject, is a fault much more curable by practice, even late in life, than the opposite. Although however I am convinced that an early-acquired habit of empty fluency is adverse to a man's success as an Orator, I will not undertake to say, that, as an orator, it will tend to his attaining the very highest degree of success that he should possess the most philosophical mind, trained to the most scrupulous accuracy of investigation. Inesti- mable in other respects as such an endowment is, and certainly compatible with very great eloquence, I doubt whether the highest degree of it is compatible with the highest degree of general oratorical power. If at least he is to be accounted the most perfect orator, who (as Cicero lays down) can speak the best and most persuasively on aiiy question whatever that may arise, it may fairly be doubted whether a Jirst-rate man can be a first-rate orator. He may indeed speak admirably in § 5. INTRODUCTION. 31 a matter he has well considered ; but when any 7iew subject, or new point, is started in the course of a debate, though he may take a juster view of it at the first glance on the exigency of the moment, than any one else could, he will not fail, — as a man of more superficial cleverness would, — to perceive how impossible it must be to do full justice to a subject demanding more reflection and inquiry ; nor can he therefore place himself fully on a level, in such a case, with one of shallower mind, who being less able, in all cases, to look beneath the surface of things, obtains at the first glance the best view he can take of any subject ; and therefore can display, without any need of artifice, that easy unembarrassed confidence which cai^ never be, with equal effect, assumed. To speak perfectly well, in short, a man must feel that he has got to the bottom of the subject ; and to feel this, on occasions where from the nature of the case, it is impossible he really can have done so, is inconsistent with the character of great profundity. PART I. OF THE INVENTION, ARRANGEMENT, AND INTRO- DUCTION OF PROPOSITIONS AND ARGUMENTS. Chap. I. — Of Propositions. §1- It was remarked in the Treatise on Logic, inquiry after Truth and that in the process oi Investigation properly so mentfdStin- guished. called, viz. that by which we endeavour to discover Truth, it must of course be uncertain to him who is entering on that process, what the conclusion will be, to which his researches will lead ; but that in the process of conveying truth to others, by reasoning, {i. e. what may be termed, according to the view I have at present taken, the Rhetorical process,) the conclusion or conclusions which are to be established must be present to the mind of him who is conducting the Argument, and whose business is to find Proofs of a given proposition. Conviction and Instruc- tion. 34 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. It is evident therefore, that the first step to be taken by him is to lay down distinctly in his own mind the proposition or propositions to be proved. It might indeed at first sight appear superfluous even to mention so obvious a rule ; but experience shews that it is by no means uncommon for a young or ill-instructed writer to content himself with such a vague and indistinct view of the point he is to aim at, that the whole train of his reasoning is in consequence affected with a corresponding perplexity, obscurity, and looseness. It may be worth while therefore to give some hints for the conduct of this prehminary process, — the choice of propositions. Not, of course, that I am supposing the author to be in doubt what opinion he shall adopt : the process of Investigation* (which does not fall within the province of Rhetoric) being supposed to be concluded ; but still there will often be room for deliberation as to the form in which an opinion shall be stated, and, when several propositions are to be maintained, in what order they shall be placed. On this head therefore I shall proceed to propose some rules ; after having premised (in order to anticipate some objections or doubts which might arise) one remark relative to the * Logic, book iv. chap. 3. § 2. Chap. I. § 1. OF CONVICTION. 35 object to be effected. This is, of course, what may be called, in the widest sense of the word. Conviction ; but under that term are compre- hended, first, what is strictly called Listruction; and, secondly, Conviction in the narrower sense ; i. e. the Conviction of those who are either of a contrary opinion to the one main- tained, or who are in doubt whether to admit or deny it. By Instruction, on the other hand, is commonly meant the conviction of those who have neither formed an opinion on the subject, nor are deliberating whether to adopt or reject the proposition in question, but are merely desirous of ascertaining zvhat is the truth in respect of the case before them. The former are supposed to have before their minds the terms of the proposition maintained, and are called upon to consider whether that parti- cular proposition be true or false ; the latter are not supposed to know the terms of the conclusion, but to be mc\yi\Y'm^ what proposition is to be received as true. The former may be described in logical language, as doubting respecting the Copula ; the latter, respecting the Predicate. It is evident that the speaker or writer is, relatively to these last, (though not to himself,) conducting a process of Inves- tigation ; as is plain from what has been said of that subject, in the treatise on Logic. d2 36 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. The distinction between these two objects gives rise in some points to corresponding differences in the mode of procedure, which will be noticed hereafter; these differences however are not sufficient to require that Rhetoric should on that account be divided into two distinct branches ; since, generally speaking, though not universally, the same rules will be serviceable for attaining each of these objects. §2. The first step is, as I have observed, to lay down (in the author's mind) the proposition or propositions to be maintained, clearly, and in a suitable form. He who strictly observes this rule, and who is thus brought to view steadily the point he is aiming at, will be kept clear, in a great degree, of some common faults of young writers ; viz. entering on too wide a field of discussion, and introducing many propositions not sufficiently connected ; an error which destroys the unity One subject of the compositiou. This last error those are does not im- ■■ ?ompo'sHion. ^^^ to fall into, who place before themselves a Term instead of a Proposition ; and imagine that because they are treating of one thing, they are discussing one question. In an Ethical work, for instance, one may be treating of Chap. I. §2. OF CONVICTION. 37 virtue, while discussing all or any of these questions; *' Wherein virtue consists?" " Whence our notions of it arise?" " Whence it derives its obligation?" &c. ; but if these questions were confusedly blended together, or if all of them were treated of, within a short compass, the most just remarks and forcible arguments would lose their interest and their utility, in so perplexed a composition. Nearly akin to this fault is the other just mentioned, that of entering on too wide a field for the length of the work ; by which means the writer is confined to barren and unin- teresting generalities ; as e. g. general exhor- tations to virtue (conveyed, of course, in very general terms) in the space of a discourse only of sufficient length to give a characteristic description of some one branch of duty, or of some one particular motive to the practice of it. Unpractised composers are apt to fancy ^°p'°j^^5^j.^*^ that they shall have the greater abundance ofre'stdctid * view. matter, the wider extent of subject they com- prehend ; but experience shews that the reverse is the fact : the more general and extensive view will often suggest nothing to the mind but vague and trite remarks, when, upon narrowing the field of discussion, many interesting (questions of detail present them- selves. Now a writer who is accustomed to 38 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. state to himself precisely, in the first instance, the conclusions to which he is tending, will be the less likely to content himself with such as consist of very general statements ; and will often be led, even where an extensive view is at first proposed, to distribute it into several branches, and, waiving the discussion of the rest, to limit himself to the full development of one or two ; and thus applying, as it were, a microscope to a small space, will present to the view much that a wider survey would not have exhibited. §3. Inquiry after It may be useful for one who is about thus to lay down his propositions, to ask himself these three questions : first. What is the fact ? secondly. Why {i. e. from what Cause) is it so ? or, in other words, how is it accounted for? and thirdly. What Consequence results from it ? The last two of these questions, though they will not in every case suggest such answers as are strictly to be called the Cause and the Consequence of the principal truth to be maintained, may, at least, often furnish such propositions as bear a somewhat similar re- lation to it. It is to be observed, that in recommending Chap. ir.§l. OF CONVICTION. 39 the writer to begin by laying down in his own mind the propositions to be maintained, it is not meant to be imphed that they are always to be stated first ; that will depend upon the nature of the case ; and rules will hereafter be given on that point. It is to be observed also, that by the words " Proposition" or '* Assertion," throughout this Treatise, is to be understood some co7i- clusio?i to be established /or itself ; not, with a view to an ulterior conclusion : those proposi- tions which are intended to serve as premises, being called, in allowable conformity with popular usage, Argmnents ; it being customary to argue in the enthymematic form, and to call, for brevity's sake, the expressed premiss of an enthymeme, the argument by which the conclusion of it is proved.* Chap. II. — Of Arguments. §1- The finding of suitable arguments to prove Properpro- •^ ° ^ vinceof a given point, and the skilful arrangement of ^'"^*°"'= them, may be considered as the immediate and proper province of Rhetoric, and of that alone. f * Logic, book i. § 2. f Aristotle's division of Persuasives into " artificial ' and " inartificial," (e/TEj^iot and iiTi^vt)*) including unde 40 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. The business of Logic is, as Cicero com- plains, to judge of arguments, not to invent them : (" in inveniendis argumentis muta nimium est ; in judicandis, nimium loquax." — Cic. de Orat.) The knowledge again, in each case, of the subject in hand, is essential ; but it is evidently borrowed from the science or system conversant about that subject-matter, whether Politics, Theology, Law, Ethics, or any other. The art of addressing the feelings again, does not belong exclusively to Rhetoric; since Poetry has at least as much to do with that branch. Nor are the considerations re- lative to Style and Elocution confined to argu- mentative and persuasive compositions. The art of inventing and arranging Arguments is, as has been said, the only province that Rhetoric can claim entirely and exclusively. Arguments are divided according to several Arguments, different principles ; i. e. logically speaking, there are several divisions of them. And these the latter head, " Witnesses, Laws, Contracts," &c. is strangely unphilosophical. The one class, he says, the Orator is to make use of; the other, to devise. But it is evident tliat, in all cases alike, the datav/e argue from must be something already existing and w^hich we are not to make, but to use ; and that the arguments derived from these data are the work of art. Whether these data are general maxims or particular testimony — Laws of Nature, or Laws of the Land — makes, in this respect, no difference. Various di- visions of Chap. II. § 1. OF CONVICTION. 41 cross-divisions have proved a source of endless perplexity to the Logical and Rhetorical student, because there is perhaps no writer on either subject that has been aware of their character. Hardly any thing perhaps has con- tributed so much to lessen the interest and the utility of systems of Rhetoric, as the indistinctness hence resulting. When in any subject the members of a division are not opposed, but are in fact members of different divisions, crossing each other, it is manifestly impossible to obtain any clear notion of the Species treated of; nor will any labour or ingenuity bestowed on the subject be of the least avail, till the original source of perplexity is removed ; — till, in short, the cross-division is detected and explained. Arguments then may be divided. First, into Irregular, and Regular, i. e. Syl- logisms ; these last into Categorical and Hypothetical ; and the Categorical, into Syl- logisms in the first Figure, and in the other Figures, &c. &c. Secondly, They are frequently divided into '* Moral," [or " Probable,"] and " Demon- strative," [or " Necessary."] Thirdly, into " Direct," and " Indirect ;" (or rediictio ad ahsurdum,) — the Deictic, and Elentic, of Aristotle. 42 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. Fourthly, into Arguments from " Example," from '' Testimony," from *' Cause to Effect," from " Analogy," &c. &c. It will be perceived, on attentive examination, that several of the different species just men- tioned will occasionally contain each other ; e. g. a Probable Argument may be at the same time a Categorical Argument, a Direct Argu- ment, and an Argument from Testimony, &c. ; this being the consequence of Arguments having been divided on several different principles ; a circumstance so obvious the moment it is dis- tinctly stated, that I apprehend such of my readers as have not been conversant in these studies will hardly be disposed to believe that it could have been (as is the fact) generally overlooked, and that eminent writers should in consequence have been involved in in- extricable confusion. I need only remind them however of the anecdote of Columbus breaking the egg. That which is perfectly obvious to any man of common sense, as soon as it is mentioned, may nevertheless fail to occur, even to men of considerable ingenuity. Division of It will also be readily perceived, on examining Fomis of rt 1 ■,-,.., Arguments. ^]^q pHuciples 01 thcsc scveral divisions, that the last of them alone is properly and strictly a division of Arguments as such. The first is evidently a division of the Forms of stating Chap. II. § 1. OF CONVICTION. 43 them; for every one would allow that the same Argument may be either stated as an enthymeme, or brought into the strict syllogistic form ; and that, either categorically or hypo- thetically, &c. ; e. g. ** Whatever has a begin- ning has a cause ; the earth had a beginning, therefore it had a cause ; or. If the earth had a beginning, it had a cause : it had a beginning," &c. every one would call the same Argument, differently stated. This, therefore, evidently is not a division of Argu- ments as such. The second is plainly a division of Araru- subject- ^ matter of ments according to their subject-matter, -whether Arguments. Necessary or Probable, certain or uncertain. In Mathematics, e. g. every proposition that can be stated is either an immutable truth, or an absurdity and self-contradiction ; while in human affairs the propositions which we assume are only true for the most part, and as general rules; and in Physics, though they must be true as long as the laws of nature remain undisturbed, the contradiction of them does not imply an absurdity ; and the conclusions of course, in each case, have the same degree and kind of certainty with the premises. This therefore is properly a division, not of Argu- ments as such, but of the Propositious of which they consist. 44 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. Purposes of The Third is a division of Arguments ac- Arguments. cording to the purpose for which they are employed ; according to the intention of the reasoner ; whether that be to estabhsh " di- rectly" (or *' ostensively") the conclusion drawn, or (" indirectly") by means of an absurd conclusion to disprove one of the premises ; (i. e. to prove its contradictory :) since the alternative proposed in every valid Argument is, either to admit the conclusion, or to deny one of the premises. Now it may so happen that in some cases, one person will choose the former, and another the latter, of these alter- natives. It is probable, e. g. that many have been induced to admit the doctrine of Tran- substantiation, from its clear connexion with the infallibility of the Romish Church ; and many others, by the very same Argument, have surrendered their belief in that infallibility. Again, Berkeley and Reid seem to have alike admitted that the non-existence of matter was a necessary consequence of Locke's Theory of Ideas : but the former was hence led, bondjide, to admit and advocate that non-existence ; while the latter was led by the very same Argument to reject the Ideal Theory. Thus, we see it is possible for the very same Argu- ment to be Direct to one person, and Indi- rect to another ; leading them to different Chap. II. § 1. OF CONVICTION. 45 results, according as they judge the original conclusion, or the contradictory of a premiss, to be the more probable. This, therefore, is not properly a division of Arguments as such, but a division of the purposes for which they are employed. The fourth, which alone is properly a divi- Ai^uments sion of Arguments as such, and accordingly "*' '''''''■ will be principally treated of, is a division ac- cording to the " relation of the subject-matter of the premises to that of the conclusion." I say, "of the subject-matter," because the logical connexion between the premises and conclusion is independent of the meaning of the terms employed, and may be exhibited with letters of the alphabet substituted for the terms ; but the relation I am now speaking of between the premises and conclusion, (and the varieties of which form the several species of Arguments,) is in respect of their subject- matter : as e. g. an " Argument from Cause to Effect" is so called and considered, in reference to the relation existing between the premiss, which is the Cause, and the conclu- sion, which is the Effect ; and an " Argument from Example," in like manner, from the relation between a known and an unknown instance, both belonging to the same class. And it is plain that the present division. 46 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. though it has a reference to the subject-matter of the premises, is yet not a division of propo- sitions considered by themselves, (as in the case with the division into '*^ probable" and " demonstrative,") but of Arguments considered as such ; for when we say, e. g. that the premiss is a Cause, and the conclusion the Effect, these expressions are evidently relative, and have no meaning, except in reference to each other ; and so also when we say that the premiss and the conclusion are two parallel cases, that very expression denotes their relation to each other. In the annexed Table I have sketched an outline of the several divisions of arguments here treated of: r '^ O M O 2 > '2. CD m a> 1.2 ; £ o s r-S s ^ ^ & 13 -c CB c ■S r I .a 5 r, 48 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. §2. Two classes of Arguments. I^ distributing, then, the several kinds of Arguments, according to this division, it will be found convenient to lay down first two great classes, under one or other of which all can be brought ; viz. first, such Arguments as might have been employed not as arguments, but to account for the fact or principle main- tained, supposing its truth granted : secondly, such as could not be so employed. The former class (to which in this Treatise the name of "A priori'' Argument will be confined) is manifestly Argument from Cause to Effect ; since to account for any thing, signifies, to assign the Cause of it. The other class, of course, comprehends all other Arguments ; of which there are several kinds, which will be mentioned hereafter. The two sorts of proof which have been just spoken of, Aristotle seems to have intended to designate by the titles of otl for the latter, and hioTi for the former ; but he has not been so clear as could be wished in observing the distinction between them. The only decisive test by which to distinguish the Arguments which belong to the one and to the other, of these classes, is, to ask the question, " Supposing the proposition in question to be Chap. II. §2. OF CONVICTION. 49 admitted, would this statement here used as an Argument serve to account for the truth, or not ?" It will then be readily referred to the former or to the latter class, according as the answer is in the affirmative or the nega- tive ; as, e. g. if a murder were imputed to any one on the grounds of his *' having a hatred to the deceased, and an interest in his death," the Argument would belong to the former class ; because, supposi??g his guilt to be admitted, and an inquiry to be made how he came to commit the murder, the circum- stances just mentioned would serve to account for it ; but not so, with respect to such an Argument as his " having blood on his clothes;" which would therefore be referred to the other class. And here let it be observed, once for all, that when I speak of arguing from Cause to Effect, it is not intended to maintain the real and proper efficacy of what are called Physical Causes to produce their respective Effects, nor to enter into any discussion of the contro- versies which have been raised on that point ; which would be foreign from the present purpose. The word *' Cause," therefore, is to be understood as employed in the popular sense ; as well as the phrase of " accounting for " any fact. E 50 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. Argument As far, tlieii, Es auj Cause, popularly speak- effect. -j^g^ Yias a tendency to produce a certain Effect, so far its existence is an Argument for that of the Effect. If the Cause be fully sufficient, and no imped ifne?its intervene, the Effect in question follows certainly ; and the nearer we approach to this, the stronger the Argument. This is the kind of Argument which pro- duces (when short of absolute certainty) that species of the Probable which is usually called riausibiiity. the Plausible. On this subject Dr. Campbell has some valuable remarks in his Philosophy of Rhetoric, (book i. § 5, ch. vii.) though he has been led into a good deal of perplexity, partly by not having logically analysed the two species of probabilities he is treating of, and partly by departing, unnecessarily, from the ordinary use of terms, in treating of the Plausible as something distinct from the Probable, instead of regarding it as a species of Probability.* * I do not mean, however, that every thing to which the term " plausible" would apply would be in strict propriety called *' probable ;" as e. g. if we had fully ascertained some story that had been told us to be an imposition, we might still say, it was a " plausible" tale ; though, subsequent to the detection, the word " probable " would not be so pro- perly applied. But certainly common usage warrants the use of " probable " in many cases, on the ground of this Chap. II § 2. OF CONVICTION. 51 This is the chief kind of ProbabiUty which poets, or other writers of fiction, aim at ; and in such works it is often designated by the term *' natural."* Writers of this class, as they aim not at producing belief, are allowed to take their " Causes" for granted, (i. e. to assume any hypothesis they please,) provided they make the Effects follow naturally ; repre- senting, that is, the personages of the fiction as acting, and the events as resulting, in the same manner as might have been expected, supposing the assumed circumstances to have been real. And hence, the great Father of Criticism establishes his paradoxical maxim, that impossibilities which appear probable, are to be preferred to possibilities which appear improbable. For, as he justly observes, the impossibility of the hypothesis, as e. g. in Homer, the familiar intercourse of gods with mortals, is no bar to t*he kind of Probability (i. e. Verisimilitude) required, if those mortals plausibility alone ; viz. the adequacy of some cause, known, or likely to exist, to produce the effect in question. * It is also important for them, though not so essential, to keep clear of the improbable air produced by the intro- duction of events, which, though not unnatural, have a great preponderance of chances against them. The dis- tinction between these two kinds of faults is pointed out in a passage in the Quarterly Review, for which see Appendix, [A.] E -2 52 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. are represented as acting in the manner men naturally would have done under those cir- cumstances. The Probability, then, which the writer of fiction aims at, has, for the reason just men- tioned, no tendency to produce a particular, but only a general, belief; i. e. not that these particular events actually took place, but that such are likely, generally, to take place under such circumstances :* this kind of belief (un- consciously entertained) being necessary, and all that is necessary to produce that sympathetic feeling which is the writer's object. In Argu- mentative Compositions, however, as the object of course is to produce conviction as to the particular point in question, the Causes from which our Arguments are drawn must be such as are either admitted, or may be proved, to be actually existing, or likely to exist. On the appropriate use of this kind of Argu- ment, (which is probably the hkoq of Aristotle, though unfortunately he has not furnished any Employment cxample of It,) somc Rules will be laid down of tile phrase A priori, hereafter; my object at present having been merely to ascertain the nature of it. And here it may be worth while to remark, that * On which ground Aristotle contends that the end of Fiction is more Philosophical than that of History, since it aims at general, instead of particular, Truth. Chap. II. § 2. OF CONVICTION. 53 though I have apphed to this mode of Reason- ing the title of " a priori,'" it is not meant to be maintained that all such arguments as have been by other writers so designated correspond precisely with what has been just described.* The phrase, '* a priori " Argument, is not indeed employed by all in the same sense ; it would, however, generally be understood to extend to any argument drawn from an a?ite- cedent or forerunner , whether a Cause or not ; e. g. " the mercury sinks, therefore it will * Some Rhetorical students, accordingly, partly with a view to keep clear of any ambiguity that might hence arise, and partly for the sake of brevity, have found it useful to adopt, in drawing up an outline or analysis of any compo- sition, certain arbitrary symbols, to denote, respectively, each class of Arguments and of Propositions ; viz- A, for the former of the two classes of Arguments just described, (to denote ^' A priori," or " Antecedent," probability,) and B, for the latter, which, as consisting of several different kinds, may be denominated " the Body of evidence." Again, they designate the proposition, which accounts for the principal and original assertion, by a small " a," or Greek a, to denote its identity in substance with the Argu- ment bearing the symbol "A," though employed for a different purpose ; viz. not to establish a fact that is doubtful, but to account for one that is admitted. The proposition, again, which results as a Consequence or Corollary from the principal one, they designate by the symbol C. There seems to be the same convenience in the use of these symbols as Logicians have found in the employment of A, E, I, O, to represent the four kinds of Propositions according to quantity and quality. 54 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. rain." Now this Argument being drawn from a circumstance which, though an antecedent, is in no sense a Cause, would fall not under the former, but the latter, of the classes laid down ; since when rain comes, no one would account for the phenomenon by the falling of the mercury ; which they would call a Sign of rain ; and yet most, perhaps, would class this among " a priori " Arguments. In like manner the expression, " a posteriori'' Argu- ments, would not in its ordinary use coincide precisely, though it would very nearly, with the second class of Arguments. The division, however, which has here been adopted, ap- pears to be both more philosophical, and also more precise, and consequently more prac- tically useful, than any other ; since there is so easy and decisive a test by which an Argument may be at once referred to the one or to the other of the classes described. §3. The second, then, of these classes, (viz. " Arguments drawn from such topics as could not be used to account for the fact in question, supposing it granted,") may be subdivided into two kinds ; which will be designated by the terms " Sign " and " Example." Chap. II. § 3. OF CONVICTION. 55 By " Sign," (so called from the Svf^eiov of sign. Aristotle,) is meant a species of Argument of which the analysis is as follows ; As far as any circumstance is, what may be called a Condition of the existence of a certain effect or phe- nomenon, so far it may be inferred from the existence of that Effect : if it be a Condition absolutely essential, the Argument is, of course, demonstrative; and the Probability is the stronger in proportion as we approach to that case. Of this kind is the Argument in the instance lately given : a man is suspected as the perpe- trator of the supposed murder, from the cir- cumstance of his clothes being bloody ; the murder being considered as in a certain degree a probable condition of that appearance ; i. e. it is presumed that his clothes would not otherwise have been bloody. Again, from the appearance of ice, we infer, decidedly, the existence of a temperature not above freezing point; that temperature being an essential Condition of the crystallization of water. Among the circumstances which are condi- Proof ofa cause. tional to any Effect, must evidently come the Cause or Causes; and if there be only one possible Cause, this being absolutely essential, may be demonstratively proved from the Effect : if the same Effect might result from other 56 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. Causes, then the Argument is, at best, but probable. But it is to be observed, that there are also many circumstances which have no tendency to produce a certain Effect, though it cannot exist without them, and from which Effect, consequently, they may be inferred, as Conditions, though notCauses; e. g. a man's '' being alive one day," is a circumstance ne- cessary, as a Condition, to his " dying the next ;" but has no tendency to produce it ; his having been alive, therefore, on the former day, may be proved from his subsequent death, but not vice versa* It is to be observed therefore, that though it is very common for the Cause to be proved from its Effect, it is never so proved, so far forth as [ri] it is a Cause, but so far forth as it is a condition, or necessary circumstance. A Cause, again, may be employed to prove an Effect, (this being the first class of Argu- * It is however very common, in the carelessness of ordinary language, to mention, as the Causes of phenomena, circumstances which every one would allow, on considera- tion, to be not Causes, but only conditions, of the Effects in question ; e. g. it would be said of a tender plant, that it was destroyed in consequence of not being covered with a mat ; though every one would mean to imply that the frost destroyed it ; this being a Cause too well known to need being mentioned ; and that which is spoken of as the Cause, viz. the absence of a covering, being only the Condition, without which the real Cause could not have operated. CiiAP. II. §3. OF CONVICTION. 57 ments already described,) so far as it has a tendency to produce the Effect, even though it be not at all necessary to it ; (i. e. when other Causes may produce the same Effect ;) and in this case, though the Effect may be inferred from the Cause, the Cause cannot be inferred from the Effect, e. g. from a mortal wound you may infer death, but not vice versa. Lastly, when a Cause is also a necessary or probable cojidition, i. e. when it is the only possible or only likely Cause, then we may argue both ways, e. g. we may infer a General's success from his known skill, or, his skill from his known success : (in this, as in all cases, assuming what is the better known as a proof of what is less-known, denied, or doubted,) these two Arguments belonging, respectively, to the two classes ori<2rinallv laid down. And i'''g''^ai and '-' •' physical it is to be observed, that, in such Arguments '^i'*^"''''- from Sign as this last, the conclusion which follows, logically, from the premiss, being the Cause from which the premiss follows, physi- cally, (?. e. as a natural Effect,) there are in this case two different kinds of Sequence opposed to each other ; YSIS dydptoTTVJy, ^, juaWov Be, Kai iicTv^aiTepa, Kal to'iq iiCKJL cii]\Xa"/ixipa, w'c av, &c. B. iii. § 82. 88 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part I. pitiless oppression, and inordinate thirst for revenge on the oppressors ; — of a craving desire, in some, to get free from their former poverty, and still more, in others, to gratify their avarice by unjust spohation ; — and of the removal of legal restraints from " the natural character of man," (Jj avdpwirela vatg) which, in consequence, ** eagerly displayed itself as too weak for passion, too strong for justice, and hostile to every superior."* Now the question important to the argument, is, are the differences between the ancient Greeks, and modern nations, of such a character as to make the remarks of Thucydides, and the examples he sets before us, inapplicable ? or are they (as he seems to have expected) merely such as to alter the external shape (et8oy) of the transactions springing from similar human passions ? Surely no mere external differences in customs, or in the arts of life, between the ancient Greeks and the French (our supposed * 'Ej' c' ovv Ti] KepKvpa ra ttoWo. aiiTojy TrpoeroXfii'idr) , ical oTToaa vfipei /i£v ap-^o^tvoL to ttXIov i) (TU)(l)po(TvvT], vno tuiv Trjv Tifiiopiuv Trapa(T-)^upr(jjy, ol Ilvtu^vvv^evol cpaatiav' TTErcac de rf/c eliodviag aTraXXa^eiot'Tic tiveq, fiaXiara ^' nv CM wadovQ tTriSvfxovvTEQ TO. Twv niXag 'f)^eiy, Trapa ^iKTjy yiyi'GxTKOiev' * * * * '^vvrapaydivTOc ^te tov /iiov, ig Toy KUipoy TovToy, tti iroXti, kui twv vofiuy KpaTrfaaaa f] aydpivTrtia >f)V(TLQ, tlwOvla /cot irapa tovq yofxovQ aSiKEly, a.(TiJ,iyri s^^XwffEC (iKparriQ fiEV 6pyf]r ovaa, kpEiaabJp re tov SikuIov, iroXEfiia di TOV Trpov\ovTog. Thucyd. book iii. sec. 84. Chap. II. § 6. OF CONVICTION. 89 disputant might have urged) can produce an, essential and fundamental difference of results from any civil commotion : for this, some new vital principle of Action must be introduced and established in the heart ; — something capable of over-ruling (?) avOpcoireia / ' Persuasion. of influencing the Will, is the next point to be considered. And Rhetoric is often regarded (as was formerly remarked) in a more limited sense, as conversant about this head alone. But even, according to that view, the rules above laid down will be found not the less relevant; since the Conviction of the under- standing (of which I have hitherto been treat- \ ing) is an essential part of Persuasion ; and \ will generally need to be effected by the Argu- ? ments of the Writer or Speaker. For in i order that the Will may be influenced, two things are requisite ; viz. 1. that the proposed Object should appear desirable ; and 2. that the Means suggested should be proved to be conducive to the attainment of that object; and this last^ evidently must depend on a 1 70 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. process of Reasoning. In order, e. g., to induce the Greeks to unite their efforts against the Persian invader, it was necessary both to prove that cooperation could alone render their resistance effectual, and also to awaken such feelings of patriotism, and abhorrence of a foreign yoke, as might prompt them to make these combined efforts. For it is evident, that however ardent their love of liberty, they would make no exertions if they apprehended no danger; or if they thought themselves able, separately, to defend themselves, they would be backward to join the confederacy ; and on the other hand, that if they were willing to submit to the Persian yoke, or valued their independence less than their present ease, the fullest conviction that the Means recommended would secure their indepen- dence, would have had no practical effect. Persuasion, therefore, depends on, first. Argument, (to prove the expediency of the Means proposed,) and secondly, what is usually called Exhortation, i. e. the excitement of men to adopt those Means, by representing the End as sufficiently desirable. It will happen indeed, not unfrequently, that the one or the other of these objects will have been already, either wholly or in part, accomplished; so that the other shall be the only one that Chap. I. §1. OF PERSUASION. 171 it is requisite to insist on ; viz. sometimes the hearers will be sufficiently intent on the pursuit of the End, and will be in doubt only as to the Means of attaining it ; and some- times, again, they will have no doubt on that point, but will be indifferent, or not sufficiently ardent, with respect to the proposed End, and will need to be stimulated by Exhortations. Not sufficiently ardent, I have said, because it will not so often happen that the object in question will be one to which they are totally indifferent, as that they will, practically at least, not reckon it, or not feel it, to be worth the requisite pains. No one is absolutely indifferent about the attainment of a happy immortality; and yet a great part of the Preacher's business consists in Exhortation, i. e. endeavouring to induce men to use those exertions which they themselves know to be necessary for the attainment of it. Aristotle, and many other writers, have spoken of appeals to the Passions as an unfair mode of influencing the hearers ; in answer to which Dr. Campbell has remarked, that there can be no Persuasion without an address to the Passions : * and it is evident, from what * '* To say, that it is possible to persuade without speaking to the passions is but at best a kind of specious nonsense. The coolest reasoner always in persuading, 172 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. has been just said, that he is right, if under the term Passion is included every active principle of our nature. This however is a greater addresseth himself to the passions some way or other. This he cannot avoid doing, if he speak to the purpose. To make me believe, it is enough to shew me that things are so ; to make me act, it is necessary to shew that the action will answer some End. That can never be an End to me which gratifies no passion or affection in my nature. You assure mej,- ' It is for my honour.' Now you solicit my pride,, without which I had never been able to under- stand the word. You say, ' It is for my interest.' Now you bespeak ray self-love. ' It is for the public good.' Now you rouse my patriotism. ' It will relieve the miserable.' Now you touch my pity. So far therefore is it from being an unfair method of persuasion to move the passions, that there is no persuasion without moving them. " But if so much depend on passion, where is the scope for argument? Before I answer this question, let it be observed, that, in order to persuade, there are two things which must be carefully studied by the orator. The first is, to excite some desire or passion in the hearers ; the second is, to satisfy their judgment that there is a con- nexion between the action to which he would persuade them, and the gratification of the desire or passion which he excites. This is the analysis of persuasion. The former is effected by communicating lively and glowing ideas of the object; the latter, unless so evident of itself as to supersede the necessity, by presenting the best and most forcible arguments which the nature of the subject admits. In the one lies the pathetic, in the other the argu- mentative. These incorporated together constitute that vehemence of contention to which the greatest exploits of Eloquence ought doubtless to be ascribed." — Campbell's Philosophy of Rhetoric, book i. chap. vii. § 4. Chap. I. § 1. OF PERSUASION. 173 latitude of meaning than belongs even to the Greek word Hadrj, though the signification of that is wider than, according to ordinary use, that of our term " Passions." But Aristotle infl^e'jj^,, of tUo \\ ill. by no means overlooked the necessity with a view to Persuasion, . properly so termed, of calling into action some motive that may influence the Will ; it is plain that whenever he speaks with reprobation of an appeal to the Passions, his meaning is, the excitement of such feelings as ought not to injluence the decision of the question in hand. A desire to do justice, may be called, in Dr. Campbell's wide acceptation of the term, a Passion : this is what ought to influence a Judge ; and no one would ever censure a Pleader for striving to excite and heighten this desire ; but if the decision be influenced by an appeal to Anger, Pity, &c., the feelings thus excited being such as ought not to have operated, the Judge must be allowed to have been unduly biassed. And that this is Aristotle's meaning is evident from his characterising the introduction of such topics, as efo) Tov Trpdyfiaros, " foreign to the matter in hand." It is evident, also, that as the motives which ought to operate will be diff'erent in different cases, the same may be objectionable and not ftiirly admissible, in one case, which in another would be perfectly 174 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. allowable.* An instance occurs in Thucydides, in which this is very judiciously and neatly pointed out: in the debate respecting the Mityleneans, who had been subdued after a revolt, Cleon is introduced contending for the justice of inflicting on them capital punish- ment ; to which Diodotus is made to reply, that the Athenians are not sitting m judgment on the offenders, but in deliberation as to their own interest ; and ought therefore to consider, not the right they may have to put the revolters to death, but the expediency or inex- pediency of such a procedure. In judicial cases, on the contrary, any appeal to the personal interests of the Judge, or even to public expediency, would be irre- levant. In framing laws indeed, and (which comes to the same thing) giving those deci- sions which are to operate as Precedents, the public good is the object to be pursued ; but in the mere administering of the established laws, it is inadmissible. Improper Thcrc arc many feelings, again, which it is evident should in no case be allowed to operate ; as Envy, thirst for Revenge, &c. &c. the excitement of which by the orator is to be reprobated as an unfair artifice ; but it is not * See the Treatise on Fallacies, § 14. motives. Chap. I. §2. OF PERSUASION. 175 the less necessary to be well acquainted with their nature, in order to allay them when previously existing in the hearers, or to coun- teract the efforts of an adversary in producing or directing them. It is evident, indeed, that all the weaknesses, as well as the powers, of the human mind, and all the arts by which the Sophist takes advantage of these weak- nesses, must be familiarly known by a perfect Orator ; who, though he may be of such a character as to disdain employing such arts, must not want the ability to do so, or he would not be prepared to counteract them. An acquaintance with the nature of poisons is necessary to him who would administer antidotes. §2. There is, I conceive, no point in which the p>-?JHdi«« ••• existing idea of dishonest artifice is in most people's cftement of minds so intimately associated with that of Rhetoric, as the address to the Feelings or Active Principles of our nature. This is usually stigmatized as " an appeal to the Passions instead of the Reason ;" as if Reason alone could ever influence the Will, and operate as a motive ; which it no more can, than the eyes, which shew a man his road, can enable him to move from place to place ; 176 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. or than a ship provided with a compass, can sail without a wind. It may be said indeed, with truth, that an orator does often influence the Will by improper appeals to the Passions ; but it is no less true that he often imposes on the Understanding of his hearers by sophistical Arguments : yet this does not authorize us to reprobate the employment of Argument. But it seems to be commonly taken for granted, that whenever the feelings are excited they are of course over-excited. Now so far is this from the fact, — so far is it from being true, that men are universally, or even generally, in danger of being misled in conduct by an excess of feeling, that the reverse is at least as often the case. The more generous feelings, such as Compassion, Gratitude, Devotion, nay, even rational and rightly-directed Self-Love, Hope, and Fear, are oftener defective than excessive: and that, even in the estimation of the parties themselves, if they are well-principled, judi- cious, reflective, and candid men. Do the feelings of such a man, when contemplating, for instance, the doctrines and the promises of the Christian Religion, usually come up to the standard which he himself thinks reason- able ? And not only in the case of Religion, but in many others also, a man will often wonder at, and be rather ashamed of, the Chap. I. §2. OF PERSUASION. 177 coldness and languor of his own feelings, compared with what the occasion calls for : and even makes efforts to rouse in himself such emotions as he is conscious his reason would approve. In making such an effort, a curious and The semi ^ ments, &< important fact is forced on the attention of^^etoect every one who reflects on the operations ofthewm, his own mind ; viz. that the Feelings, Propen- sities, and Sentiments of our nature, are not, like the Intellectual Faculties, under the direct control of Volition. The distinction is much the same as between the voluntary and the involuntary actions of different parts of the body. One may, by a deliberate act of the Will, set himself to calculate, — to reason, — to recall historical facts, &c. just as he does, to move any of his limbs : on the other hand, a Volition to hope or fear, to love or hate, to feel devotion or pity, and the like, is as ineffectual as to will that the pulsations of the heart, or the secretions of the liver, should be altered. Some indeed are, I believe, (strange as it would seem) not aware of the total inefficacy of their own efforts of volition in such cases : that is, they mistake for 2l feeling of gratitude, compassion, &c. their voluntary reflections on the subject, and their conviction that the case is one which calls for gratitude N 178 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. or compassion. A very moderate degree of attention, however, to what is passing in the mind, will enable any one to perceive the difference. How the How is this difficulty to be sm'mounted? feelings are to be reached. QqqjJ scnsc suggcsts, in cach case, an analo- gous remedy. It is in vain to form a Will to quicken the circulation ; but we may, by a voluntary act, swallow a medicine which will have that effect : and so also, though we cannot, by a direct effort of volition, excite or allay any Sentiment or Emotion, we may, by a voluntary act, fill the Understanding with such thoughts as shall operate on the Feelings. Thus, by attentively studying and meditating on the history of some extraordinary Per- sonage,— by contemplating and dwelHng on his actions and sufferings, — his virtues and his wisdom, — and by calHng on the Imagination to present a vivid picture of all that is related and referred to, — in this manner, we may at length succeed in kindling such feelings, sup- pose, of reverence, admiration, gratitude, love, hope, emulation, &c. as we were already pre- pared to acknowledge are suitable to the case. So again, if a man of sense wishes to allay in himself any emotion, that of resentment for instance, though, it is not under the direct control of the Will, he deliberately sets himself sense prac- tises Rhe- toric on himself Chap. I. §2. OF PERSUASION. 179 to reflect on the softening circumstances; such as the provocations the other party may suppose himself to have received; perhaps, his ignorance, or weakness, or disordered state of health : — he endeavours to imagine himself in the place of the offending party ; — and above all, if he is a Christian, he meditates on the parable of the debtor who, after having been himself forgiven, claimed payment with rigid severity from his fellow-servant ; and on other similar lessons of Scripture. Now in any such process as this, (which is ^^™an «f exactly analogous to that of taking a medicine that is to operate on the involuntary bodily organs,) a process to which a man of well- regulated mind continually finds occasion to resort, he is precisely acting the part of a skilful orator, to himself; and that too, in respect of the very point to which the most invidious names are usually given, " the appeal to the feelings." Such being then the state of the case, how, it may be said, can it be accounted for, that the idea of unfair artifice should be so com- monly associated not only with Rhetoric in general, but most especially with that parti- cular part of it now under consideration ? though no other artifice is necessarily em- ployed by the orator than a man of sense makes use of towards himself. N 2 180 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. Address to Maiiv different circumstances combine to the feelings, "^ indirect. producc this effect. In the first place, the intellectual powers being, as has been said, under the immediate control of the Will, which the Feelings, Sentiments, &c. are not, an address to the Understanding is consequently, from the nature of the case, direct; to the Feelings, ind'wect. The conclusion you wish to draw, you may state plainly, as such ; and avow your intention of producing reasons, which shall effect a conviction of that con- clusion : you may even entreat the hearers' steady attention to the point to be proved, and to the process of argument by which it is to be established. But this, for the reasons above mentioned, is widely different from the process by which we operate on the Feelings : no passion, sentiment, or emotion, is excited by thinking about it, and attending to it, but by thinking about, and attending to, such objects as are calculated to awaken it. Hence it is, that the more oblique and indirect process which takes place when we are addressing ourselves to this part of the human mind, is apt to suggest the idea of trick and artifice ; although it is, as I have said, just such as a wise man practises towards himself. Delusions of In thc ncxt place, though men are often the Under- *■ '^ h^dw^t^o deluded by sophistical arguments addressed to the Understanding, they do not, in this Chap.i.§2. of persuasion. 181 case, so readily detect the deceit that has been practised on them, as they do in the case of their being misled by the excitement of Passions. A few days, or even hours, will often allow them to cool, sufficiently, to view in very different colours, some question on which they have perhaps decided in a moment of excitement ; whereas any sophistical rea- soning by which they had been misled, they are perhaps as unable to detect as ever. The state of the Feelings, in short, varies from day to day; the Understanding remains nearly the same : and hence the idea of deceit is more particularly associated with that kind of deceit which is the less permanent in its effects, and the sooner detected. To these considerations it may be added. Men distrust more their that men have in general more confidence in feelings t^"^" O their under- the soundness of their Understanding, than in '*^"'^'°^ their self-command and due regulation of Feel- ings : they are more unwilling, consequently, to believe that an orator has misled, or can mislead them, by sophistical arguments, that is by taking advantage of their intellectual weak- ness, than by operating on their Feelings ; and hence, the delusions which an artful orator produces, are often attributed in a greater degree than is really the case, to the influence he has exerted on the Passions. 182 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. But if every thing were to be regarded with aversion or with suspicion that is capable of being employed dishonestly, or for a bad pur- pose, the use of language might be condemned altogether. It does indeed often happen, that men's feelings are extravagantly excited on some inadequate occasion : this only proves how important it is that either they, or the person who undertakes to advise them, should understand how to bring down these feelings to the proper pitch. And it happens full as The feelings oftcu (which is what most persons are apt to as apt to fall ^ ^ •• excfef thl*" overlook) that their feelings fall far short of proper point. ^^,|^^^^ eveu lu thcir own judgment, the occasion would call for : and in this case an excitement of such feelings, though not affected directly by a process of reasoning, is very far from being any thing opposed to reason, or tending to mislead the judgment. Stimulants are not to be condemned as necessarily bringing the body into an unnatural state, because they raise the circulation : in a fever this would be hurtful ; but there may be a torpid, lethargic disease, in which an excitement of the circulation is pre- cisely what is wanted to bring it into a healthy condition. § 3. Division of The active principles of our nature may active prin- ■,■,■,■■• i cipics. be classed m various ways ; the arrangement CuAP. I. §3. OF PERSUASION. 183 adopted by Mr. Dugald Stewart* is, perhaps, the most correct and convenient ; the heads he enumerates are Appetites, (which have their origin in the body,) Desires, and Affections ; these last being such as imply some kind of disposition relative to another Person; to which must be added. Self-love, or the desire of Happiness, as such ; and the Moral-faculty, called by some writers Conscience, by others Conscientiousness, by others the Moral sense, and by Dr. A. Smith, the sense of Propriety. Under the head of Affections may be in- cluded the sentiments of Esteem, Regard, Admiration, &c. which it is so important that the audience should feel towards the Speaker. Aristotle has considered this as a distinct head; separating the consideration of the speaker's Character QYiBos rod XeyovTos) from that of the disposition of the hearers ; under which, how- ever, it might, according to his own views, have been included ; it being plain from his manner of treating of the speaker's Character, that he means, not his real character, (accord- ing to the fanciful notion of Quinctilian,) but the impression produced on the minds of the hearers, by the speaker, respecting himself. He remarks, justly, that the Character to character to 1 iTii» 1 n n be established be established is that of, first. Good Principle, ^y the speaker. * Outlines of Moral Philosophy. 184 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. secondly. Good Sense, and thirdly. Goodwill and friendly disposition towards the audience addressed ; * and that if the Orator can com- pletely succeed in this, he will persuade more powerfully than by the strongest Arguments. He might have added, (as indeed he does slightly hint at the conclusion of his Treatise,) that, where there is an opponent, a like result is produced by exciting the contrary feelings respecting him ; viz. holding him up to con- tempt, or representing him as an object of re- probation or suspicion. To treat fully of all the different emotions and springs of action which an Orator may at any time find it necessary to call into play, or to contend against, would be to enter on an almost boundless field of Metaphysical inquiry, which does not properly fall within the limits of the subject now before us : and on the other hand, a brief definition of each passion, &c. and a few general remarks on it, could hardly fail to be trite and uninteresting. A few mis- cellaneous Rules therefore may suffice, relative to the conduct, generally, of those parts of any Composition which are designed to in- fluence the Will. * 'Aptr*/, fi>p6vr}(n(;i Euroia, book ii. c. I. Chap. II. § 1. OF PERSUASION. 185 Chap. II. — Of the conduct of any address to the feelings generally. § 1- The first and most important point to be Men impa- ■•• tient of dicta- observed in every address to any Passion, Sen- ^f "hSei-* timent. Feeling, &c. is, (as has been already '°^'' hinted,) that it should not be introduced as such, and plainly avowed ; otherwise the effect will be, in great measure, if not entirely, lost. This circumstance forms a remarkable distinc- tion between the head now under consideration, and that of Argumentation. When engaged in Reasoning, properly so called, our purpose not only need not be concealed, but may, (as I have said,) without prejudice to the effect, be distinctly declared : on the other hand, even when the feelings we wish to excite are such as ought to operate, so that there is no reason to be ashamed of the endeavours thus to in- fluence the hearer, still our purpose and drift should be, if not absolutely concealed, yet not openly declared, and made prominent. Whe- ther the motives which the orator is endeavour- ing to call into action be suitable or unsuitable to the occasion, — such as it is right, or wrong, for the hearer to act upon, the same rule will hold good. In the latter case it is plain, that 186 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. the speaker who is seeking to bias unfairly the minds of the audience will be the more likely to succeed by going to work clandestinely, in order that his hearers may not be on their guard, and prepare and fortify their minds against the impression he wishes to produce. In the other case, — where the motives dwelt on are such as ought to be present, and strongly to operate, men are not likely to be pleased with the idea that they need to have these motives urged upon them, and that they are not already sufficiently under the influence of such sentiments as the occasion calls for. A man may indeed be convinced that he is in such a predicament ; and may ultimately feel obliged to the Orator for exciting or strengthening such sentiments ; but while he confesses this, he cannot but feel a degree of mortification in making the confession, and a kind of jealousy of the apparent assumption of superiority, in a speaker, who seems to say, " now I will exhort you to feel as you ought on this occasion ;" *' I will endeavour to inspire you with such noble, and generous, and amiable sentiments as you ought to entertain ;" which is, in effect, the tone of him who avows the purpose of Exhortation. The mind is sure to revolt from the humiliation of being thus moulded and fashioned, in respect to its CiiAP. II. § 1. OF PERSUASION. 187 feelings, at the pleasure of another ; and is apt, perversely, to resist the influence of such a discipline. Whereas, there is no such implied superiority in avowing the intention of convincing the understanding. Men know, and (what is more to the purpose) feel, that he who presents to their minds a new and cogent train of Argument, does not necessarily possess or assume any offensive superiority ; but may, by merely having devoted a particular attention to the point in question, succeed in setting before them Arguments and Explanations which have not occurred to themselves. And even if the Arguments adduced, and the Conclusions drawn, should be opposite to those with which they had formerly been satisfied, still there is nothing in this so humiliating, as in that which seems to amount to the imputation of a moral deficiency. It is true that Sermons not unfrequently caution against prove popular, which consist avowedly and ^^"^j^f^jj^^^ almost exclusively of Exhortation, strictly so called, — in which the design of influencing the sentiments and feelings is not only apparent, but prominent throughout : but it is to be feared, that those who are the most pleased with such discourses, are more apt to apply these Exhortations to their neighbours than 188 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. to themselves ; and that each bestows his commendation rather from the consideration that such admonitions are much needed, and must be generally useful, than from finding them thus useful to himself When indeed the speaker has made some progress in exciting the feelings required, and has in great measure gained possession of his audience, a direct and distinct Exhortation to adopt the conduct recommended will often prove very effectual ; but never can it be needful or advisable to tell them (as some do) that you are going to exhort them. It will, indeed, sometimes happen that the excitement of a certain feeling will depend, in some measure, on a process of Reasoning ; e. g. it may be requisite to prove, where there is a doubt on the subject, that the person so recommended to the Pity, Gratitude, &c. of the hearers, is really an object deserving of these sentiments : but even then, it will almost always be the case, that the chief point to be accomplished shall be to raise those feelings to the requisite height, after the understanding is convinced that the occasion calls for them. And this is to be effected not by Argument, properly so called, but by presenting the circumstances in such a point of view, and so fixing and detaining the attention upon them. Chap. II. §1. OF PERSUASION. 189 that corresponding sentiments and emotions shall gradually, and as it were spontaneously, arise. Sermons would probably have more effect, if, instead of being, as they frequently are, directly hortatory, they were more in a didactic form ; occupied chiefly in eiylaining some transaction related, or doctrine laid down, in Scripture. The generality of hearers are too much familiarized to direct exhortation to feel it adequately: if they are led to the same point obliquely, as it were, and induced to dwell with interest for a considerable time on some point, closely, though incidentally, con- nected with the most awful and important truths, a very slight application to themselves might make a greater impression than the most vehement appeal in the outset. Often indeed they would themselves make this appli- cation unconsciously ; and if on any this pro- cedure made no impression, it can hardly be expected that any thing else would. To use a homely illustration, a moderate charge of powder will have more effect in splitting a rock, if we begin by deep boring, and intro- ducing the charge into the very heart of it, than ten times the quantity, exploded on the surface. detail 190 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. §2. Advantage Heiice aHses another Rule closely connected of copious ^ with the foregoing, though it also so far relates to style that it might with sufficient propriety have been placed under that head ; viz. that in order effectually to excite feelings of any kind, it is necessary to employ some copiousness of detail, and to dz&ell somewhat at large on the several circumstances of the case in hand ; in which respect there is a wide distinction between strict Argumentation, with a view to the Conviction of the understanding alone, and the attempt to influence the Will, by the excitement of any emotion.* With respect to Argument itself indeed, different occasions will call for different degrees of copiousness, repetition, and expansion ; — the chain of reasoning employed, may in itself, consist of more or fewer links ; — abstruse and complex arguments must be unfolded at greater length * *' Non enim, sicut argumentum, simulatque positum est, arripitur, alterumque et tertium poscitur ; ita miseri- cordiam aut invidiam aut iracundiam, simulatqne intuleris, possis commovere : argumentum enim ratio ipsa confirmat, quas, simulatque emissa est, adhaerescit ; illud autem genus orationis non cognitionem judicis, sed magis perturbationem requirit, quam consequi, nisi multa et varia et copiosa oratione, et simili contentione actionis, nemo potest. Quare qui aut breviter aut summisse dicunt, docere judicem possunt, commovere non possunt ; in quo sunt omnia.'' Cic. de Oral. lib. ii. c. 53. Chap. II. §2. OF PERSUASION. 191 than such as are more simple ; — and the more uncultivated the audience, the more full must be the explanation and illustration, and the more frequent the repetition, of the arguments presented to them ; but still the same general principle prevails in all these cases ; viz. to aim merely at letting the arguments be fully understood and admitted. This will indeed occupy a shorter or longer space, according to the nature of the case and the character of the hearers ; but all expansion and repetition beyond what is necessary to accomplish Con- viction, is in every instance tedious and disgusting. In a Description, on the other hand, of any thing that is likely to act on the Feelings, this effect will by no means be produced as soon as the understanding is sufficiently informed ; detail and expansion are here not only admissible, but absolutely necessary, in order that the mind may have leisure and opportunity to form vivid and distinct ideas. For as Quinctilian well observes, he who tell us that a city was sacked, although that one word implies all that occurred, will produce little, if any, impression on the feelings,* in comparison of one who sets before * Dr. Campbell has treated very ably of some circum- stances which tend to heighten any impression. The reader is referred to the Appendix [D] for some extracts. 192 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. US a lively description of the various lamentable circumstances. To tell the whole, he adds, is by no means the same as to tell every thing. Accordingly it may be observed, that though every one understands what is meant by " a wound," there are some who cannot hear a minute description of one without fainting. The death of Patroclus is minutely related by Homer, for the interest of the reader; though to Achilles, whose feelings would be sufficiently excited by the bare fact, it is told in two words : /cetrat UaTpoKXos. There is an instance related in a number of the Adventurer, of a whole audience being moved to tears by minute detail of the circum- stances connected with the death of a youthful pair at the battle of Fontenoy ; though they had previously listened without emotion to a general statement of the dreadful carnage in that engagement. It is not, however, with a view to the Feelings only that some copiousness of detail will occasionally be needful : it will often happen that the Judgment cannot be correctly formed, without dwelhng on circumstances. Imagination It has seldom if ever been noticed, how im- needed in the , , study of His- portant among the mtellectual qualifications for the study of history, is a vivid Imagination : a faculty which consequently a skilful narrator Chap. II. §2. OF PERSUASION. 193 must himself possess, and to which he must be able to furnish excitement in others. Some may perhaps be startled at this remark, who have been accustomed to consider Imagination as having no other office than to feign and falsify. Every faculty is hable to abuse and misdirection ; and Imagination among the rest : but it is a mistake to suppose that it necessarily tends to pervert the truth of History, and to mislead the Judgment. On the contrary, our view of any transaction, especially one that is remote in time or place, will necessarily be imperfect, generally, incorrect, unless it em- brace something more than the bare outline of the occurrences ; — unless we have before the mind a lively idea of the scenes in which the events took place, the habits of thought and of feehng of the actors, and all the circumstances connected with the transaction ; — unless in short we can in a considerable degree transport ourselves out of our own age, and country, and persons, and imagine ourselves the agents or spectators. It is from a consideration of all these circumstances that we are enabled to form a right judgment as to the facts which History records, and to derive instruction from it.* What we imagine, may indeed be merely * See Appendix [E]. O 194 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. imaginanj, i. e. unreal; but it may again be what actually does or did exist. To say that Imagination, if not regulated by sound judg- ment and sufficient knowledge, may chance to convey to us false impressions of past events, is only to say that man is fallible. But such false impressions are even much the more likely to take possession of those whose Imagination is feeble or uncultivated. They are apt to imagine the things, persons, times, countries, &c. which they read of, as much less different from what they see around them, than is really the case. §3. Indirect de- It Is not, howevcr, always advisable to enter into a direct detail of cirumstances, which would often have the effect of wearying the hearer beforehand, with the expectation of a long description of something in which he probably does not as yet feel much interest ; and would also be likely to prepare him too much, and forewarn him, as it were, of the object proposed, — the design laid against his feelings. It is observed by Opticians and Astronomers that a side-\'m^ of a faint star, or, especially, of a comet, presents it in much greater brilliancy than a direct-view. To see a comet in its full splendour, you should look. scnption. Chap. II. §3. OF PERSUASION. 195 not straight at it, but at some star a little beside it. Something analogous to this often takes place in mental perceptions. It will often, therefore, have a better effect to describe obliquely, (if I may so speak,) by introducing circumstances connected with the main object or event, and affected by it, but not absolutely forming a part of it. And circumstances of this kind may not unfrequently be so selected as to produce a more striking impression of any thing that is in itself great and remarkable, than could be produced by a minute and direct description ; because in this way the general and collective result of a whole, and the effects produced by it on other objects, may be vividly impressed on the hearer's mind ; the circum- stantial detail of collateral matters not drawing off the mind from the contemplation of the principal matter as one and complete. Thus, the woman's application to the King of Samaria, to compel her neighbour to fulfil the agreement of sharing with her the infant's flesh, gives a more frightful impression of the horrors of the famine than any more direct description could have done ; since it presents to us the picture of that hardening of the heart to every kind of horror, and that destruction of the ordinary state of human sentiment, which is the result of long continued and extreme misery. Nor o2 196 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. could any detail of the particular vexations to be suffered by the exiled Jews for their disobe- dience, convey so lively an idea of them as that description of their result contained in the denunciation of Moses : " In the evening thou shalt say. Would God it were morning! and in the morning thou shalt say, Would God it were evening !" In the poem of Rokeby, a striking exempli- fication occurs of what has been said: Bertram, in describing the prowess he had displayed as a Buccaneer, does not particularise any of his exploits, but alludes to the terrible impression they had left : Panama's maids shall long look pale, When Risingham inspires the tale ; Chili's dark matrons long shall tame The froward child with Bertram's name. The first of Dramatists, who might have been perhaps the first of Orators, has offered some excellent exemphfications of this rule ; especially in the speech of Antony over Caesar's body. \ § 4. Comparison Comparisou is one powerful means of ex- I citing or heightening any emotion : viz. by / presenting a parallel between the case in hand I and some other that is calculated to call forth CiiAP. II. §4. OF PERSUASION. 197 such emotions ; taking care of course to re- present the present case as stronger than the one it is compared with, and such as ought to affect us more powerfully. When several successive steps of this kind ciimax. are employed to raise the feelings gradually to the highest pitch, (which is the principal employment of what Rhetoricians call the Chmax,*) a far stronger effect is produced than by the mere presentation of the most striking object at once. It is observed by all travellers who have visited the Alps, or other stupendous mountains, that they form a very inadequate notion of the vastness of the greater ones, till they ascend some of the less elevated, (which yet are huge mountains,) and thence view the others still towering above them. And the mind, no less than the eye, cannot so well take in and do justice to any vast object at a single glance, as by several successive approaches and repeated compa- risons. Thus in the well-known Climax of Cicero in the Oration against Verres, shocked as the Romans were Hkely to be at the bare * An analogous Arrangement of Arguments, in order to set forth the full force of the one we mean to dwell upon, would also receive the same appellation ; and in fact is very often combined and blended with that which is here spoken of. 198 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. mention of the crucifixion of one of their citizens, the successive steps by which he brings them to the contemplation of such an event, were calculated to work up their feelings to a much higher pitch : '' It is an outrage to bind a Roman citizen ; to scourge him is an atrocious crime ; to put him to death is almost parricide? but to crucify him — what shall I call it ?" It is observed, accordingly, by Aristotle, in speaking of Panegyric, that the person whom we would hold up to admiration, should always be compared, and advantageously compared, if possible, with those that are already illus- trious, but if not, at least with some person whom he excels : to excel, being in itself, he says, a ground of admiration. The same rule will apply, as has been said, to all other feelings as well as to Admiration : Anger, or Pity, for instance, are more effectually excited if we produce cases such as would call forth those passions, and which though similar to those before us, are not so strong ; and so with respect to the rest. When it is said, however, that the object which we compare with another, introduced for the purpose, should'be one which ought to excite the feeling in question in a higher degree than that other, it is not meant that Chap. II. §4. OF PERSUASION. 199 this must actually be, already, the impression of the hearers : the reverse will more com- monly be the case ; that the instances adduced will be such as actually affect their feelings more strongly than that to which we are endea- vouring to turn them, till the flame spreads, as it were, from the one to the other. This will especially hold good in every case where self is concerned ; e. g. men feel naturally more indignant at a slight affront offered to them- selves, or those closely connected with them, than at the most grievous wrong done to a stranger ; if therefore you would excite their utmost indignation in such a case, it must be by comparing it with a parallel case that con- cerns themselves ; i. e. by leading them to consider how they would feel were such and such an injury done to themselves. And, on the other hand, if you would lead them to a just sense of their own faults, it must be by leading them to contemplate like faults in others ; of which the celebrated parable of Nathan, addressed to David, affords an admi- rable instance. It often answers very well to introduce in this manner an instance not only avowedly fictitious^ but even manifestly impossible, pro- vided it be but conceivable. A case may thus be exhibited more striking and apposite than 200 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. any real or possible one that could be found. I have inserted in the Appendix some exam- ples of this kind.* §5. ancfSnuL^' Anothcr Rule, (which also is connected in mgmet ods ^^^^ dcgrce with Style,) relates to the tone of feeling to be manifested by the writer or speaker himself, in order to excite the most / effectually the desired emotions in the minds I of the hearers. And this is to be accomplished / by two opposite methods : the one, which is / the more obvious, is to express openly the / feeling in question ; the other, to seem labour- ing to suppress it : in the former method, the most forcible remarks are introduced, — the most direct as well as impassioned kind of description is employed, — and something of exaggeration introduced, in order to carry the hearers as far as possible in the same direction in which the Orator seems to be himself hurried, and to infect them to a certain degree with the emotions and sentiments which he thus manifests : the other method, which is often no less successful, is to abstain from all remarks, or from all such as come up to the expression of feeling which the occasion seems * See Appendix [F]. Chap. II. §.5. OF PERSUASION. 201 to authorize — to use a gentler mode of ex- pression than the case might fairly warrant, — to deliver " an unvarnished tale," leaving the hearers to make their own comments, — and to appear to stifle and studiously to keep within bounds such emotions as may seem natural. This produces a kind of reaction in the hearers' minds ; and being struck with the inadequacy of the expressions, and the la- boured calmness of the speaker's manner of stating things, compared with what he may naturally be supposed to feel, they will often rush into the opposite extreme, and become the more strongly affected by that which is set before them in so simple and modest a form. And though this method is in reality more artificial than the other, the artifice is the more likely (perhaps for that very reason) to escape detection ; men being less on their guard against a speaker who does not seem so much labouring to work up their feelings, as to repress or moderate his own ; provided that this calmness and coolness of manner be not carried to such an extreme as to bear the appearance of affectation ; which caution is also to be attended to in the other mode of procedure no less ; an excessive hyperbolical exaggeration being likely to defeat its own fcHcct. Aristotle mentions, (Rhct, book ix.) 202 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part 11. though very briefly, these two modes of rousing the feehngs, the latter under the name of Eironeia, which in his time was commonly employed to signify, not according to the modern use of " Irony," saying ** the contrary to what is meant," but, what later writers usually express by Litotes, i. e. '* saying less than is meant." The two methods may often be both used on the same occasion, beginning with the calm, and proceeding to the impassioned, afterwards, when the feelings of the hearers are already wrought up to a certain pitch : OTav e')(ri rjor) rovg aKpoaras, Kat Trotrjar) evaov- (Tida-at* Universally, indeed, it is a fault carefully to be avoided, to express feelings more vehemently than that the audience can go along with the speaker ; who would, in that case, as Cicero observes, seem like one raving among the sane, or intoxicated in the midst of the sober. And accordingly, except where from extraneous causes the audience are already in an excited state, we must carry them forward gradually, and allow time for the fire to kindle. The blast which would heighten a strong flame, would, if applied too soon, extinguish the first faint spark. The * Aristotle, Rhet. book iii. ch. 7. Chap. II. § 5. OF PERSUASION. 203 speech of Antony over Caesar's corpse, which has been ah'eady mentioned, affords an admi- rable example of that combination of the two methods which has just been spoken of. Generally, however, it will be found that the same Orators do not excel equally in both modes of exciting the feelings ; and it should be recommended to each to employ principally that in which he succeeds best ; since either, if judiciously managed, will generally prove effectual for its object. The well-known tale of Inkle and Yarico, which is an instance of the extenuating method, (as it may be called,) could not, perhaps, have been rendered more affecting, if equally so, by the most impas- sioned vehemence and rhetorical heightening. In no point, perhaps, more than in that now under consideration, is the importance of a judicious arrangement to be perceived. The natural and suitable order of the parts of a discourse (natural it may be called, because corresponding with that in which the ideas suggest themselves to the mind) is, that the statements and arguments should first be clearly and calmly laid down and developed, which are the ground and justification of such sentimente and emotions as the case calls for ; and that, then, the impassioned appeal (sup- posing the circumstances such as admit of or 204 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. demand this) should be made, to hearers well prepared by their previous deliberate convic- tion, for resigning themselves to such feelings as fairly arise out of that conviction. The former of these two parts may be compared to the back of a sabre ; the latter to its edge. The former should be firm and weighty ; the latter keen. The writer who is deficient in strength of Argument, seems to want weight and stoutness of metal ; his strokes make but a superficial impression, or the weapon is shivered to fragments in his hand. He again, whose Logic is convincing, but whose defi- ciency is in the keenness of his application to the heart and to the will of the hearer, seems to be wielding a blunt though ponderous weapon ; we wonder to find that such weighty blows have not cut deeper. And he who reverses the natural order, — who begins with a vehement address to the feehngs, and after- wards proceeds to the arguments which alone justify such feelings, reminds us of one wield- ing an excellent sword, but striking with the back of it : if he did but turn it round, its blows would take effect. Chap. II. § G. OF PERSUASION. 20/ §6. obiect in Question is a feeling. When the occasion or obiect in question is Diversion of not such as calls for, or as is likely to excite in those particular readers or hearers, the emotions required, it is a common Rhetorical artifice to turn their attention to some object which will call forth these feelings ; and when they are too much excited to be capable of judging calmly, it will not be difficult to turn their passions, once roused, in the direction required, and to make them view the case before them in a very different light. When the metal is heated, it may easily be moulded into the desired form. Thus, vehement indig- nation against some crime, may be directed against a person who has not been proved guilty of it ; and vague declamations against corruption, oppression, &c. or against the mischiefs of anarchy ; with high-flown pane- gyrics on Hberty, rights of man, &c. or on social order, justice, the constitution, law, religion, &c. will gradually lead the hearers to take for granted, without proof, that the measure proposed will lead to these evils or these advantages ; and it will in consequence become the object of groundless abhorrence or admiration. For the very utterance of such words as have a multitude of what may be 206 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. called stimulating ideas associated with them, will operate like a charm on the minds, espe- cially of the ignorant and unthinking, and raise such a tumult of feeling, as will effectu- ally blind their judgment ; so that a string of vague abuse or panegyric, will often have the effect of a train of sound Argument. This artifice falls under the head of " Irrelevant Conclusion," or ignoratio elenchi, mentioned in the Treatise on Fallacies. commenda tion. Chap. III. — Of the favourable or unfavourable disposition of the hearers towards the Speaker or his opponent. §1- Indirect self- In raisiuoj a favourable impression of the commenda- c i speaker, or an unfavourable one of his oppo- nent, a peculiar tact will of course be neces- sary ; especially in the former, since direct self-commendation will usually be disgusting, to a greater degree, even than a direct per- sonal attack on another ; though, if the Orator is pleading his own cause, or one in which he is personally concerned, (as was the case in the speech of Demosthenes concerning the Crown,) a greater allowance will be made for him on this point ; especially if he be a very Chap. III. §1. OF PERSUASION. 207 eminent person, and one who may safely appeal to public actions performed by him. Thus Pericles is represented by Thucydides as claiming, directly, when speaking in his own vindication, exactly the qualities (good Sense, good Principle, and Good-will) which Aristotle lays down as constituting the cha- racter which we must seek to appear in. But then it is to be observed, that the historian represent him as accustomed to address the people with more authority than others for the most part ventured to assume. It is by the expression of wise, amiable, and generous Sentiments, that Aristotle recommends the speaker to manifest his own character;* but even this must generally be done in an oblique^ and seemingly incidental manner, lest the hearers be disgusted with a pompous and studied display of fine sentiments; and care * When (as of course will often happen) the hearers are thus induced, on insufficient grounds, to give the speaker full credit for moral excellence, from his merely uttering the language of it, the fallacy which in this case misleads them may be regarded as that of undistributed middle : " a good man would speak so and so ; the speaker does this : therefore he must be a good man." f E. G. " It would be needless to impress upon you the maxim," &c. " You cannot be ignorant," &c. &c. " I am not advancing any high pretensions in expressing the sen- timents which such an occasion must call forth in every honest heart," &c. 208 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. must also be taken not to affront them by seeming to inculcate, as something likely to be new to them, maxims which they regard as almost truisms. Of course the application of this last caution must vary according to the character of the persons addressed ; that might excite admiration and gratitude in one audience, which another would receive with indignation and ridicule. Most men, however, are disposed rather to overrate than to exte- nuate their own moral judgment ; or at least to be jealous of any one's appearing to under- rate it. wiXT^ Universally indeed, in the Arguments used, as well as in the appeals made to the Feelings, a consideration must be had of the hearers, whether they are learned or ignorant, — of this or that profession, — nation, — character, &c. and the address must be adapted to each ; so that there can be no excellence of writing or speaking, in the abstract ; nor can we any more pronounce on the Eloquence of any Composition, than upon the wholesomeness of a medicine, without knowing for whom it is intended. The less enlightened the hearers, the harder, of course, it is to make them comprehend a long and complex train of Reasoning ; so that sometimes the Arguments, in themselves the most cogent, cannot be Chap. III. § 1. OF PERSUASION. 209 employed at all with effect ; and the rest will need an expansion and copious illustration which would be needless, and therefore tire- some, (as has been above remarked,) before a different kind of audience : on the other hand, their feehngs may be excited by much bolder and coarser expedients ; such as those are the most ready to employ, and the most likely to succeed in, who are themselves a little re- moved above the vulgar ; as may be seen in the effects produced by fanatical preachers. But there are none whose feelings do not occasionally need and admit of excitement by the powers of Eloquence ; only there is a more exquisite skill required in thus affecting the educated classes than the populace.' * * " The less improved in knowledge and discernment the hearers are, the easier it is for the speaker to work upon their passions, and by working on their passions, to obtain his end. This, it must be owned, appears on the other hand to give a considerable advantage to the preacher ; as in no Congregation can the bulk of the people be regarded as on a footing, in point of improvement, with either House of Parliament, or with the Judges in a Court of Judicature. It is certain, that the more gross the hearers are, the more avowedly may you address yourself to their passions, and the less occasion there is for argument ; whereas, the more intelligent they are, the more covertly must you operate on their passions, and the more attentive must you be in regard to the justness, or at least the speciousness, of your reasoning. Hence some have strangely concluded, that the only scope for eloquence is in haranguing the multi- P 210 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. On the other hand, it is, as has been said, in the same degree more difficult to bring the uneducated to a comprehension of the Argu- ments employed ; and this, not only from their reasoning-powers having less general cultivation, but also, in many instances, from their ignorance of the subject ; — their needing to be informed of the facts, and to have the tude ; that in gaining over to your purpose men of know- ledge and breeding, the exertion of Oratorical talents hath no influence. This is precisely as if one should argue, because a mob is much more easily subdued than regular troops, there is no occasion for the art of war, nor is there a proper field for the exertion of military skill, unless when you are quelling an undisciplined rabble. Every body sees in this case, not only how absurd such a way of arguing would be, but that the very reverse ought to be the conclu- sion. The reason why people do not so quickly perceive the absurdity in the other case, is, that they affix no dis- tinct meaning to the word eloquence, often denoting no more by that term than simply the power of moving the passions. But even in this improper acceptation, their notion is far from being just ; for wherever there are men, learned or ignorant, civilized or barbarous, there are pas- sions ; and the greater the difficulty is in affecting these, the more art is requisite." Campbell's Rhetoric, book i. chap. X. sec. 2, pp. 224, 225. It may be added to what Dr. C. has here remarked, that the title of eloquent may have come to be often limited to such compositions as he is speaking of, from the circum- stance that their eloquence is (to readers of cultivated mind) more conspicuous. That which affects our own feelings is not, by us, at the time at least, perceived to be eloquence. See note to the next section. Chap. III. § 1. OF PERSUASION. 211 principles explained to them, on which the Argument proceeds. And I cannot but think that the generality of sermons seem to pre- suppose a degree of religious knowledge in the hearers greater than many of them would be found on examination to possess. When this is the case, the most angelic eloquence must be unavaihng to any practical purpose. In no point more than in that now under consideration, viz. the Conciliation (to adopt the term of the Latin writers) of the hearers, is it requisite to consider who and what the hearers are ; for when it is said that good Sense, good Principle, and Good-will, consti- tute the character which the speaker ought to estabhsh of himself, it is to be remembered that every one of these is to be considered in reference to the opinions and habits of the audience. To think very differently from his hearers, may often be a sign of the Orator's wisdom and worth ; but they are not likely to consider it so. A witty Satirist* has observed, that *' it is a short way to obtain the reputa- tion of a wise and reasonable man, whenever any one tells you his opinion, to agree with him." Without going the full length of com- pletely acting on this maxim, it is absolutely necessary to remember, that in proportion as * Swift. p 2 212 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. the speaker manifests his dissent from the opinions and principles of his audience, so far, he runs the risk at least of impairing their estimation of his judgment. But this it is often necessary to do when any serious object is proposed ; because it will commonly happen that the very End aimed at shall be one which implies a change of sentiments, or even of principles and character, in the hearers. This must be very much the case with any preacher of the Gospel, but must have been much more so with its first promulgators. " Christ crucified " was " to the Jews a stum- bling-block, and to the Greeks, foolishness." The total change required in all the notions, habits, and systems of conduct in the first converts, constituted an obstacle to the recep- tion of the new religion, which no other that has prevailed ever had to contend with. The striking contrast which Mahommedism pre- sents, in this respect, to Christianity, consti- tutes the rapid diffusion of the two, by no means parallel cases. Those indeed who aim only at popularity, are right in conforming their sentiments to those of the hearers, rather than the contrary ; but it is plain that though in this way they obtain the greatest reputation for Eloquence, they deserve it the less ; it being much easier. Chap. III. § 1. OF PERSUASION. 213 according to the tale related of Mahomet, to go to the mountain, than to bring the mountain to us.* There is but little Eloquence in con- vincing men that they are in the right, or inducing them to approve a character which coincides with their own. The Christian preacher therefore is in this Difficulties of respect placed in a difficult dilemma ; since he may be sure that the less he comphes with the depraved judgments of man's corrupt nature, * " Little force is necessary to push down heavy bodies placed on the verge of a declivity ; but much force is re- quisite to stop them in their progress, and push them up. If a man should say, that because the first is more fre- quently effected than the last, it is the best trial of strength, and the only suitable use to which it can be applied, we should at least not think him remarkable for distinctness in his ideas. Popularity alone, therefore, is no test at all of the eloquence of the speaker, no more than velocity alone would be, of the force of the external impulse ori- ginally given to the body moving. As in this the direction of the body, and other circumstances, must be taken into the account ; so, in that, you must consider the tendency of the teaching, whether it favours or opposes the vices of the hearers. To head a sect, to infuse party spirit, to make men arrogant, uncharitable, and malevolent, is the easiest task imaginable, and to which almost any blockhead is folly equal. But to produce the contrary effect, to subdue the spirit of faction, and that monster spiritual pride, with which it is invariably accompanied, to inspire equity, mo- deration, and charity into men's sentiments and conduct with regard to others, is the genuine test of eloquence." Campbell's Rhetoric, book i. chap. x. sec. 5. p. 239. 214 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IL the less acceptable is he likely to be to that depraved judgment. But he who would claim the highest rank as an Orator, (to omit all nobler considerations,) must be the one who is the most successful, not in gaining popular applause, but in carry- ing his point, whatever it be. The preacher, however, who is intent on this object, should use all such precautions as are not inconsistent with it, to avoid raising unfavourable impres- sions in his hearers. Much will depend on a gentle and conciliatory manner ; nor is it necessary that he should, at once, in an abrupt and offensive form, set forth all the differences of sentiment between himself and his congre- gation, instead of winning them over by degrees ; and in whatever point, and to what- ever extent, he may suppose them to agree with him, it is allowable, and for that reason advisable, to dwell on that agreement ; as the Apostles began every address to the Jews by an appeal to the Prophets, whose authority they admitted ; and as Paul opens his dis- course to the Athenians (though unfortunately the words of our translation are likely to convey an opposite idea *) by a commendation * Aei(n^aifjiore(Tripovc, not " too superstitious," but (as almost all commentators are now agreed) " very much dis- posed to the worship of Divine Beings." Chap. III. §2. OF PERSUASION. 215 of their respect for religion. And above all, where censure is called for, the speaker should avoid, not merely on Christian, but also on Rhetorical principles, all appearance of exulta- tion in his own superiority, — of contempt, — or of uncharitable triumph in the detection of faults ; '' in meekness, instructing them that i oppose themselves." ; Of all hostile feelings. Envy is perhaps the * hardest to be subdued; because hardly any \ one owns it, even to himself; but looks out ■; for one pretext after another to justify his ' hostility. §2. Of intellectual qualifications, there is one Danger of re ,.,.. ., ITT 1 putation for which, it IS evident, should not only not beeWuence. blazoned forth, but should in a great measure be concealed, or kept out of sight ; viz. Rhe- torical skill ; since whatever is attributed to the Eloquence of the speaker, is so much deducted from the strength of his cause. Hence, Pericles is represented by Thucydides as artfully claiming, in his vindication of himself, the power of explaining the measures he proposes, not. Eloquence in pe7'stiading their adoption. And accordingly a skilful Orator seldom fails to notice and extol the Eloquence of his opponent, and to warn the 216 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. hearers against being misled by it. It is a peculiarity therefore in the Rhetorical art, that in it, more than in any other, vanity has a direct and immediate tendency to interfere with the proposed object. Excessive vanity may indeed, in various ways, prove an impe- diment to success in other pursuits ; but in the endeavour to Persuade, all wish to appear excellent in that art, operates as a hindrance. A Poet, a Statesman, or a General, &c. though extreme covetousness of applause may mislead them, will, however, attain their respective Ends, certainly not the less for being admired as excellent, in Poetry, Politics, or War : but the Orator attains his End the better the less he is regarded as an Orator ; if he can make the hearers beheve that he is not only a stranger to all unfair artifice, but even destitute of all Persuasive skill whatever, he will per- suade them the more effectually,* and if there ever could be an absolutely perfect Orator, no one would (at the time at least) discover that he was so.f And this consideration may * " I am no orator, as Brutus is," &c. Shaksp. Julius Caesar. -|- The following passage from a review of " The Heart of Mid-Lothian " coincides precisely with what has here been remarked : " We cannot bestow the same unqualified praise on another celebrated scene, Jeannie's interview with Queen Caroline. Jeannie's pleading appears to us much too rhe- Chap. III. §2. OF PERSUASION. 217 serve to account for the fact which Cicero remarks upon (De Oratore, book i.) as so inexplicable ; viz. the small number of persons who, down to his time, had obtained high reputation as orators, compared with those who had obtained excellence in other pursuits. Few men are destitute of the desire of admi- ration ; and most are especially ambitious of it in the pursuit to which they have chiefly devoted themselves ; the Orator therefore is continually tempted to sacrifice the substance to the shadow, by aiming rather at the admi- ration of the hearers, than their conviction; and thus to fail of that excellence in his art torical for the person and for the occasion ; and the queen's answer, supposing her to have been overpowered by Jeannie's entreaties, ' This is eloquence,' is still worse. Had it been eloquence, it must necessarily have been unperceived by the queen. If there is any art of which celare ariem is the basis, it is this. The instant it peeps out, it defeats its own object, by diverting our attention from the subject to the speaker, and that, with a suspicion of his sophistry equal to our admiration of his ingenuity, A man who, in answer to an earnest address to the feelings of his hearer, is told, ' you have spoken eloquently,' feels that he has failed. Effie, when she entreats Sharpitlaw to allow her to see her sister, is eloquent ; and his answer accordingly betrays perfect unconsciousness that she has been so ; ' You shall see your sister,' he began, ' if you'll tell me;' then inter- rupting himself, he added in a more hurried tone, * no, you shall see your sister, whether you tell me or no.' " Quarterly Review, No. li. p. 118. 218 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. which he might otherwise be well qualified to attain, through the desire of a reputation for it. And on the other hand, some may have been really persuasive speakers, who yet may not have ranked high in men's opinion, and may not have been known to possess that art of which they gave proof by their skilful con- cealment of it. There is no point, in short, in which report is so little to be trusted. If I were asked to digress a little from my subject, and to say what I should recommend in point of morality and of prudence, to the speaker or writer, and to those whom he ad- dresses, with respect to the precept just given, I should in reply, counsel him who wishes to produce a permanent effect, (for I am not now adverting to the case of a barrister,) to keep on the side of what he believes to be truth ; and, avoiding all sophistry, to aim only at setting forth that truth as strongly as possible, (combating, of course, any unjust personal prejudice against himself,) without any endea- vour to gain applause for his own abilities. If he is himself thoroughly convinced, and strongly impressed, and can keep clear of the seductions of vanity, he will be more likely in this way to gain due credit for the strength of his cause, than by yielding to a feverish anxiety about the opinion that others may Chap. III. §3. OF PERSUASION. 219 form of him. And as I should of course advise the reader or hearer to endeavour, in each case, to form his judgment according to the real and valid arguments urged, and to regulate his feelings and sentiments according to what the case justly calls for, so, with a view to this end, I would suggest these two cautions ; first, to keep in mind that there is danger of over-rating as well as of under-rating the eloquence of what is said ; and that to attribute to the skill of the advocate what really belongs to the strength of his cause, is just as likely to lead to error as the opposite mistake : and secondly, to remember that when the feelings are strongly excited, they are not necessarily over-excited : it may be that they are only brought into the state which the occasion fully justifies ; or even that they still fall short of this.* §3. Of the three points which Aristotle directs a the orator to claim credit for, it might seem at first sight that one, viz. "Good-will," is unnecessary to be mentioned; since Ability and Integrity would appear to comprehend, in most cases at least, all that is needed. A virtuous man, it may be said, must wish well * See Part ii. chap. 1. § 2. character for good-will as well as integrity re- quisite. 220 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. to his countrymen, or to any persons whatever whom he may be addressing. But on a more attentive consideration, it will be manifest that Aristotle had good reason for mentioning this head. If the speaker were believed to wish well to his Country, and to every individual of it, yet if he were suspected of being unfriendly to the political or other Party to which his hearers belonged, they would listen to him with prejudice. The abilities and the con- scientiousness of Phocion seem not to have been doubted by any ; but they were so far from gaining him a favourable hearing among the Democratical party at Athens, (who knew him to be no friend to Democracy,) that they probably distrusted him the more ; as one whose public spirit would induce him, and whose talents might enable him, to subvert the existing Constitution. Party-spirit. Ouc of thc most powcrful engines, accord- ingly, of the orator, is this kind of appeal to party -spirit. Party-spirit may, indeed, be considered in another point of view, as one of the Passions which may be directly appealed to, when it can be brought to operate in the direction required ; i. e. when the conduct the writer or speaker is recommending appears likely to gratify party-spirit ; but it is the indirect appeal to it which is now under Chap. III. §3. OF PERSUASION. 221 consideration ; viz. the favour, credit, and weight which the speaker will derive from appearing to be of the same party with the hearers, or at least not opposed to it. And this is a sort of credit which he may claim more openly and avowedly than any other ; and he may like- wise throw discredit on his opponent in a less offensive, but not less effectual manner. A man cannot say in direct terms, ** I am a wise and worthy man, and my adversary the re- verse ;" but he is allowed to say, " I adhere to the principles of Mr. Pitt or of Mr. Fox ;" " I am a friend to Presbyterianism, or to Episco- pacy," (as the case may be,) and '* my oppo- nent, the reverse ;" which is not regarded as an offence against modesty, and yet amounts virtually to as strong a self-commendation, and as decided vituperation, in the eyes of those imbued with party-spirit, as if every kind of merit and of demerit had been enumerated : for to zealous party-men, zeal for their party will very often either imply, or stand as a substitute for, every other kind of worth. Hard, indeed, therefore is the task of him •whose object is to counteract party-spirit, and to soften the violence of those prejudices which spring from it.* His only resource * " Of all the prepossessions in the minds of the hearers, which tend to impede or counteract the design of the 222 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. must be to take care that he give no ground for being supposed imbued with the violent and unjust prejudices of the opposite party, — that he give his audience credit, (since it rarely happens but that each party has some tenets that are reasonable,) for whatever there may be that deserves praise, — that he proceed gradu- ally and cautiously in removing the errors with which they are infected, — and above all, that he studiously disclaim and avoid the appear- ance of any thing like a feeling of personal hostility, or personal contempt. A character If thc orator's charactcr can be sufficiently requisite. estabHshcd in respect of Ability, and also of Good-will towards the hearers, it might at first sight appear as if this would be sufficient ; since the former of these would imply the Power, and the latter the Inclination, to give the best advice, whatever might be his Moral character. But Aristotle (in his Politics) justly remarks that this last is also requisite to be insisted on, in order to produce entire con- fidence; for, says he, though a man cannot speaker, party-spirit, where it happens to prevail, is the most pernicious ; being at once the raost inflexible, and the most unjust. * * * * Violent party-men not only lose all sympathy with those of the opposite side, but even contract an antipathy to them. This, on some occasions, even the divinest eloquence will not surmount.'' — Camp- bell's Rhetoric. Chap. III. §4. OF PERSUASION. 223 be suspected of wanting Good-will towards himself, yet many very able men act most absurdly, even in their own affairs, for want of Moral virtue ; being either blinded or overcome by their Passions, so as to sacrifice their own most important interests to their present gra- tification ; and much more, therefore, may they be expected to be thus seduced by personal temptations, in the advice they give to others. Pericles, accordingly, in the speech which has been already referred to, is repre- sented by Thucydides as insisting not only on his political ability and his patriotism, but also on his unimpeached integrity, as a qualification absolutely necessary to entitle him to their confidence ; " for the man," says he, " who possesses every other requisite, but is over- come by the temptation of interest, will be ready to sell every thing for the gratification of his avarice." §4. . From what has been said of the speaker's character of ^ opponent. recommendation of himself to the audience, and estabhshment of his authority with them, sufficient rules may readily be deduced for the analogous process, — the depreciation of an opponent. Both of these, and especially the latter, under the offensive title of personality, 224 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC Part II. are by many indiscriminately decried as unfair Rhetorical artifices ; and doubtless they are, in the majority of cases, sophistically em- ployed : and by none more effectually than by those who are perpetually declaiming against such Fallacies; the unthinking hearers not being prepared to expect any from those who represent themselves as holding them in such abhorrence. But surely it is not in itself an unfair topic of argument, in cases not admit- ting of decisive and unquestionable proof, to urge that the one party deserves the hearers' confidence, or that the other is justly an object of their distrust. " If the measure is a ffood one," it has been said, "■ will it become bad because it is supported by a bad man ? if it is bad, will it become good, because sup- ported by a good man ? If the measure be really inexpedient, why not at once shew that it is so ? Your producing these irrelevant and inconclusive arguments, in lieu of direct ones, though not sufficient to prove that the mea- sure you thus oppose is a good one, contributes to prove that you yourself regard it as a good one." Now to take thus for granted, that, in every case, decisive arguments to prove a measure bad or good, independent of all con- sideration of the character of its advocates, could be found, and also could be made clear Chap. III. § 4. OF PERSUASION. 225 to the persons addressed, is a manifest petitio principii. There is no doubt that the gene- rahty of men are too much disposed to con- sider more, zeho proposes a measure, than what it is that is proposed ; (and probably would continue to do so, even under a system of annual Parliaments and universal suffrage), and if a warning be given against an excessive tendency to this way of judging, it is reason- able, and may be useful ; nor should any one escape censure who confines himself to these topics, or dwells principally on them, in cases where " direct" arguments are to be expected; but they are not to be condemned m toto as " irrelevant and inconclusive," on the ground that they are only probable, and not in them- selves decisive ; it is only in matters of strict science, and that too, in arguing to scientific men, that the character of the advocates (as well as all other probable Arguments) should be wholly put out of the question. Is every one chargeable with weakness or absurdity who believes that the earth moves round the Sun, on the authority of Astronomers, without having himself scientifically demon- strated it? And it is remarkable that the necessity of allowing some weight to this consideration, in political matters, increases in proportion as Q 226 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. any country enjoys a free government. If all the power be in the hands of a few of the higher orders, who have the opportunity at least, of obtaining education, it is conceivable, whether probable or not, that they may be brought to try each proposed measure exclu- sively on its intrinsic merits, by abstract argu- ments ; but can any man, in his senses, really believe that the great mass of the people, or even any considerable portion of them, can ever possess so much political knowledge, patience in investigation, and sound Logic, (to say no- thing of candour,) as to be able and willing to judge, and to judge correctly, of every proposed political measure, in the abstract, without any regard to their opinion of the persons who propose it ? And it is evident, that in every case in which the hearers are not completely competent judges, they not only will, but must, take into consideration the characters of those who propose, support, or dissuade any measure; — the persons they are connected with, — the designs they may be supposed to entertain, &c.; though, undoubtedly, an ex- cessive and exclusive regard to Persons rather than Arguments, is one of the chief Fallacies against which men ought to be cautioned. But if the opposite mode of judging in every case were to be adopted without Hmitation, it Chap. III. § 5. OF PERSUASION. 227 is plain that childreti could not be educated. Indeed, happily for the world, most of them, who should be allowed to proceed on this plan, would, in consequence, perish in child- hood. A pious Christian again has the same implicit reliance on his God, even where unable to judge of the reasonableness of his commands and dispensations, as a dutiful and affectionate child has on a tender parent. Now though such a man is of course regarded by an Atheist as weak and absurd, it is surely on account of his belief, not of his consequent conduct, that he is so regarded. Even Atheists would in general admit that he is acting reasonably, on the supposition that there is a God, who has revealed Himself to man. § 5. ,. ..^ In no way, perhaps, are men, not bigoted Authority N^ to party, more likely to be misled by their experience. favourable or unfavourable judgment of their advisers, than in what relates to the authority derived from Experience. Not that Experience ought not to be allowed to have great weight, but that men are apt not to consider with sufficient attention, what it is that constitutes Experience in each point ; so that frequently one man shall have credit for much Experience, in what relates to the matter in hand, and another, Q 2 228 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. who, perhaps, possesses as much, or more, shall be underrated as wanting it. The vulgar, of all ranks, need to be warned, first, that time alone does not constitute Experience ; so that many years may have passed over a man's head, without his even having had the same opportunities of acquiring it, as another, much younger ; secondly, that the longest practice in conducting any business in ofte way, does not necessarily confer any Experience in con- ducting it in a different way ; e. g. an expe- rienced Husbandman, or Minister of State, in Persia, would be much at a loss in Europe ; and if they had some things less to learn than an entire novice, on the other hand they would have much to unlearn : and, thirdly, that merely being conversant about a certain class of subjects^ does not confer Experience in a case, where the Operations, and the JEnd pro- posed, are different. It is said that there was an Amsterdam merchant, who had dealt largely in corn all his life, who had never seen a field of wheat growing ; this man had doubt- less acquired, by Experience, an accurate judgment of the qualities of each description of corn, — of the best methods of storing it, — of the arts of buying and selling it at proper times, &c. ; but he would have been greatly at a loss in its cultivation ; though he had been. Chap. III. § 5. OF PERSUASION. 229 in a certain way, long conversant about corn. Nearly similar is the Experience of a practised Lawyer, (supposing him to be nothing more,) . in a case of Legislation ; because he has been long conversant about Law, the unreflecting attribute great weight to his judgment; whereas his constant habits of fixing his thoughts on what the law is, and withdrawing it from the irrelevant question of what the law ought to be ; — his careful observance of a multitude of rules, (which afford the more scope for the display of his skill, in proportion as they are arbitrary, unreasonable, and unac- countable,) with a studied indifference as to that which is foreign from his business, the convenience or inconvenience of those Rules, — may be expected to operate unfavourably on his judgment in questions of Legislation : and are likely to counterbalance the advantages of his superior knowledge, even in such points as do bear on the question. In matters connected with Pohtical-economy, the experience of practical men is often ap- pealed to in opposition to those who are called Theorists ; even though the latter perhaps are deducing conclusions from a wide induction of facts, while the experience of the others will often be found only to amount to their having been long conversant with the details of office. 230 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. and having all that time gone on in a certain beaten track, from which they never tried, or witnessed, or even imagined, a deviation. So also the authority derived from expe- rience of a practical Miner, i. e. one who has wrought all his life in one mine, will sometimes delude a speculator into a vain search for metal or coal, against the opinion perhaps of Theorists, i. e. persons of extensive geological observation. " It may be added, that there is a proverbial maxim which bears witness to the advantage sometimes possessed by an observant by- stander over those actually engaged in any transaction. * The looker-on often sees more of the game than the players.' Now the looker-on is precisely (in Greek Qecopos) the Theorist. " When then you find any one contrasting, in this and in other subjects, what he calls ex- perience, with theory, you will usually perceive on attentive examination, that he is in reality comparing the results of a confined, with that of a wider, experience; — a more imperfect and crude theory, with one more cautiously framed, and based on a more copious induction." * The consideration then of the character of * See Political-Economy, Lect. iii. p. 68. Chap. III. §5. OF PERSUASION. 231 the speaker, and of his opponent, being of so much importance, both as a legitimate source of Persuasion, in many instances, and also as a topic of Fallacies, it is evidently incumbent on the orator to be well versed in this branch of the art, vv^ith a view both to the justifiable advancement of his own cause, and to the detection and exposure of unfair artifice in an opponent. It is neither possible, nor can it in justice be expected, that this mode of per- suasion should be totally renounced and ex- ploded, great as are the abuses to which it is liable ; but the speaker is bound, in conscience, to abstain from those abuses himself; and, in prudence, to be on his guard against them in others. charge of in- consistency. To enumerate the various kinds of impres- sions favourable and unfavourable, that hearers or readers may entertain concerning any one, would be tedious and superfluous. But it may be worth observing, that a charge of inconsistency, as it is one of the most dis- paraging, is also one that is perhaps the most frequently urged with effect, on insufficient grounds. Strictly speaking, inconsistency (such at least as a wise and good man is exempt from) is the maintaining at the same time two contradictory propositions ; whether expressed in language, or implied in sentiments or 232 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. conduct. As, e. g., if an author,* in an argu- mentative work, while he represents every syllogism as futile and fallacious reasoning, admits that all reasoning may be exhibited in the form of syllogisms ; or, if the same person censures and abhors oppression, yet practises it towards others ; or if he prescribes two medicines which neutralize each other's effects, &c. Different no- But a mau Is oftcn ccusurcd as inconsistent, tions of in- consistency. j£ Yie changes his plans or his opinions on any point. And certainly if he does this often, and lightly, that is good ground for withholding J confidence from him. But it would be more \ precise to characterise him as fickle and un- i steady, than as inconsistent ; because this use of the term tends to confound one fault with another; viz. with holding two incompatible opinions at once. But moreover a man is often charged with inconsistency for approving some parts of a book, — system, — character, &c. and disap- proving others; — for being now an advocate for peace, and now, for war ; — in short, for accommodating his judgment or his conduct to the circumstances before him, as the mariner sets his sails to the wind. In this case there is not even any change of mind implied ; yet * D. Stewart. Chap. Ill, § 5. OF PERSUASION. 233 for this a man is often taxed with inconsistency ; though in many instances there would even be an inconsistency in the opposite procedure ; e. g. in not shifting the sails, when the wind changes. In the other case indeed, — when a man does change his mind, — he implies some error, either first or last. But some errors every man is liable to, who is not infallible. He therefore who prides himself on his consistency, f on the ground of resolving never to change his plans or opinions, does virtually (unless he means to proclaim himself either too dull to detect his mistakes, or too obstinate to own them) lay claim to infallibility. And if at the same time he ridicules (as is often done) the absurdity of a claim to infaUibility, he is guilty of a gross inconsistency in the proper and primary sense of the word. But it is much easier to boast of consistency than to preserve it. For, as, in the dark, adverse troops may take post near each other, without mutual recognition, and consequently without contest, but as soon as daylight comes, the weaker give place to the stronger ; so, in a misty and darkened mind, the most incom- patible opinions may exist together, without any perception of their discrepancy ; till the understanding becomes sufficiently enlightened 234 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. to enable the man to reject the less reasonable opinions, and retain the opposites. It may be added, that it is a very fair ground for disparaging any one's judgment, if he maintains any doctrine or system, avowedly for the sake of consistency. That must always be a bad reason. If the system, &c. is right, you should pursue it because it is right, and not because you have pursued it hitherto ; if it is wrong, your having once committed a fault is a poor reason to give for persisting in it. It only remains to observe, on this head, that (as Aristotle teaches) the place for the disparagement of an opponent is, for the first speaker, near the close of his discourse, to weaken the force of what may be said in reply ; and, for the opponent, near the open- ing, to lessen the influence of what has been already said. §6. Unfavourable Either a pcrsonal prejudice, such as has passions to be . been just mentioned, or some other passion unfavourable to the speaker's object, ^ may already exist in the minds of the hearers, which it must be his business to allay. It is obvious that this will the most effec- tually be done, not by endeavouring to produce allayed or d verted Chap. III. § 6. OF PERSUASION. 235 a state of perfect calmness and apathy, but by exciting some contrary emotion. And here it is to be observed that some passions may be. Rhetorically speaking, opposite to each other, though in strictness they are not so ; viz. whenever they are incompatible w^ith each other : e. g. the opposite, strictly speaking, to Anger, vs^ould be a feeling of Good-will and approbation towards the person in question ; but it is not by the excitement of this, alone, that Anger may be allayed ; for Fear is, prac- tically, contrary to it also ; as is remarked by Aristotle, who philosophically accounts for this, on the principle that Anger, implying a desire to inflict punishment, must imply also a supposition that it is possible to do so ; and accordingly men do not, he says, feel Anger towards one who is so much superior as to be manifestly out of their reach ; and the object of their Anger ceases to be so, as soon as he becomes an object of Apprehension. Of course the converse also of this holds good ; Anger, when it prevails, in like manner sub- duing Fear. Savage nations accordingly, having no military discipline, are accustomed to work themselves up into a phrensy of rage by their war-songs and dances, in order to excite themselves to courage.* Compassion, * See Arist. Rhet. b. ii. in his Treatises on 'Opy)) and ^ofiog. 236 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II. likewise, may be counteracted either by Disapprobation, by Jealousy, by Fear, or by Disgust and Horror; and Envy, either by Good-will, or by Contempt. This is the more necessary to be attended If, to, in order that the Orator may be on his guard against inadvertently defeating his own object, by exciting feelings at variance with , those he is endeavouring to produce, though ' not strictly contrary to them. Aristotle accordingly notices, with this view, the diffe- rence between the " Pitiable," (eXeeivov,) and the " Horrible or Shocking," {Beivov,) which, as he observes, excite different feelings, de- structive of each other; so that the Orator must be warned, if the former is his object, to keep clear of any thing that may excite the latter. It will often happen that it will be easier to give a new direction to the unfavourable passion, than to subdue it ; e. g. to turn the indignation or the laughter of the hearers against a different object. Indeed, whenever the case will admit of this, it will generally prove the more successful expedient, because it does not imply the accomplishment of so great a change in the minds of the hearers. PART III. OF STYLE. Chap. I. — Of Perspicuity. §1- Though the consideration of Style has been styi e not to be treated of laid down as holding a place in a Treatise generally. of Rhetoric, it would be neither necessary nor pertinent, to enter fully into a general discus- sion of the subject ; which would evidently embrace much that by no means peculiarly belongs to our present inquiry. It is requisite for an Orator, e. g. to observe the rules of Grammar ; but the same may be said of the Poet, and the Historian, &c. ; nor is there any peculiar kind of grammatical propriety belong- ing to Persuasive or Argumentative composi- tions ; so that it would be a departure from our subject to treat at large, under the head of Rhetoric, of such rules as equally concern every other of the purposes for which Lan- guage is employed. 238 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. Conformably to this view I shall, under the present head, notice but shghtly such principles of composition as do not exclusively or pecu- liarly belong to the present subject ; confining my attention chiefly to such observations on Style as have an especial reference to Argu- mentative and Persuasive works. §2. Perspicuity a It Is suflficiently evident (though the maxim relative qua- , "*y- is often practically disregarded) that the first requisite of Style not only in Rhetorical, but in all compositions,* is Perspicuity ; since, as Aristotle observes, language which is not intelligible, or not clearly and readily intelli- gible, fails, in the same proportion, of the purpose for which language is employed. And it is equally self-evident (though this truth is still more frequently overlooked) that Perspicuity is a relative quality, and conse- quently cannot properly be predicated of any work, without a tacit reference to the class of readers or hearers for whom it is designed. Nor is it enough that the Style be such as they are capable of understanding, if they bestow their utmost attention : the degree * In Poetry, perspicuity is indeed by no means unim- portant ; but the most perfect degree of it is by no means so essential as in Prose-works. See part iii. ch. iii. § 3. Chap. I. § 2. OF PERSPICUITY. 239 and the kind of attention, which they have been accustomed, or are likely to bestow, will be among the circumstances that are to be taken into the account, and provided for. I say the kind, as well as the degree, of atten- tion, because some hearers and readers will be found slow of apprehension indeed, but capable of taking in what is very copiously and gradually explained to them ; while others, on the contrary, who are much quicker at catching the sense of what is expressed in a short compass, are incapable of long attention, and are not only wearied, but absolutely bewil- dered, by a diffuse Style. When a numerous and very mixed audience is to be addressed, much skill will be required in adapting the Style, (both in this, and in other respects,) and indeed the Arguments also, and the whole structure of the discourse, to the various minds which it is designed to impress ; nor can the utmost art and diligence prove, after all, more than partially successful in such a case ; especially when the diversities are so many and so great, as exist in the congregations to which most Sermons are addressed, and in the readers for whom popu- lar works of an argumentative, instructive, and hortatory character, are intended. It is possible, however, to approach indefinitely to Brevity and prolixity. 240 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. an object which cannot be completely attained ; and to adopt such a Style, and likewise such a mode of Reasoning, as shall be level to the comprehension of the greater part, at least, even of a promiscuous audience, without being distasteful to any. It is obvious, and has often been remarked, that extreme conciseness is ill suited to hearers or readers, whose intellectual powers and cultivation are but small : the usual expedient, however, of employing a prolix Style by way of accommodation to such minds, is seldom successful. Most of those who could have comprehended the meaning, if more briefly expressed, and many of those who could not do so, are likely to be bewildered by tedious expansion ; and being unable to maintain a steady attention to what is said, they forget part of what they have heard before the whole is completed. Add to which, that the feeble- ness produced by excessive dilution, (if such an expression may be allowed,) will occasion the attention to languish ; and what is imper- fectly attended to, however clear in itself, will usually be but imperfectly understood. Let not an author, therefore, satisfy himself by finding that he has expressed his meaning so that, if attended to, he cannot fail to be under- stood ; he must consider also (as was before Chap. I. §2. OF PERSPICUITY. 241 remarked) what attention is likely to be paid to it. If on the one hand much matter is expressed in very few words, to an unreflecting audience, or if, on the other hand, there is a wearisome prolixity, the requisite attention may very probably not be bestowed. It is remarked by Anatomists, that the nutritive quality is not the only requisite in food; — that a certain degree of distention of the stomach is required, to enable it to act with its full powers ; — and that it is for this reason hay or straw must be given to horses, as well as corn, in order to supply the neces- sary bulk. Something analogous to this takes place with respect to the generality of minds ; which are incapable of thoroughly digesting and assimilating what is presented to them, however clearly, in a very small compass. Many a one is capable of deriving that instruc- tion from a moderate sized volume, which he could not receive from a very small pamphlet, even more perspicuously written, and contain- ing every thing that is to the purpose. It is necessary that the attention should be detained for a certain time on the subject : and persons of unphilosophical mind, though they can attend to what they read or hear, are unapt to dwell upon it in the way of subsequent medi- tation. R 242 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. Repetitioh. The best general rule for avoiding the dis- advantages both of conciseness and of prolixity, is to employ Repetition : to repeat, that is, the same sentiment and argument in many diffe- rent forms of expression ; each, in itself brief, but all, together, affording such an expansion of the sense to be conveyed, and so detaining the mind upon it, as the case may require. Cicero among the ancients, and Burke among the modern vs^riters, afford, perhaps, the most abundant practical exemplifications of this rule. The latter sometimes shews a deficiency in correct taste, and lies open to Horace's censure of an author, '* Qui variare cupit rem prodigialiter unam ;" but it must be admitted that he seldom fails to make himself thoroughly understood, and does not often weary the attention, even when he offends the taste, of his readers. Care must of course be taken that the repe- tition may not be too glaringly apparent ; the variation must not consist in the mere use of other, synonymous, words ; but what has been expressed in appropriate terms may be repeated in metaphorical ; the antecedent and consequent of an argument, or the parts of an antithesis may be transposed ; or several dif- ferent points that have been enumerated, pre- sented in a varied order, &c. Chap. I. § 2. OF PERSPICUITY. 243 It is not necessary to dwell on that obvious words de- ' » rived from rule laid down by Aristotle, to avoid uncom- ^^Z^^oot mon, and, as they are vulgarly called, hard^^^^^s- words, i. e. those which are such to the persons addressed ; but it may be worth remarking, that to those who wish to be understood by the lower orders, one of the best principles of selection is to prefer terms of Saxon origin, which will generally be more familiar to them, than those derived from the Latin, (either directly, or through the medium of the French,) even when the latter are more in use among persons of education.* Our language being (with very trifling exceptions) made up of these elements, it is very easy for any one, though unacquainted with Saxon, to observe this precept, if he has but a knowledge of French or of Latin ; and there is a remarkable scope for such a choice as I am speaking of, from the multitude of synonymes derived, respectively, from those two sources. The compilers of our Liturgy being anxious to reach the understandings of all classes, at a time when our language was in a less settled state than at present, availed themselves of * A remarkable instance of this is, that while the children of the higher classes always call their parents " Papa!" and "Mamma!" the children of the peasantry usually call them by the titles of " Father !" and " Mother !" r2 244 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. this circumstance in employing many synony- mous, or nearly synonymous, expressions, most of which are of the description just alluded to. Take, as an instance, the Ex- hortation : — " acknowledge " and " confess ;" — " dissemble " and " cloke ;" — " humble " and " lowly ;" — " goodness " and " mercy ;" — " assemble " and " meet together." And here it may be observed, that (as in this last in- stance) a word of French origin will very often not have a single word of Saxon derivation cor- responding to it, but may find an exact equiva- lent in a phrase of two or more words ; e. g, " constitute," " go to make up ;" — " arrange," " put in order ;" — " substitute," " put in the stead," &c. &c. It is worthy of notice, that a Style composed chiefly of the words of French origin, while it is less intelligible to the lowest classes, is characteristic of those who in cultivation of taste are below the highest. As in dress, fur- niture, deportment, &c. so also in language, the dread of vulgarity constantly besetting those who are half conscious that they are in danger of it, drives them into the extreme of affected finery. So that the precept which has been given with a view to perspicuity, may, to a certain degree, be observed with an advantage in point of elegance also. Chap. I. § 2. OF PERSPICUITY. 245 In adapting the Style to the comprehension Perspicuity of the iUiterate,* a caution is to be observed ornament!'' against the ambiguity of the word " Plain ;" which is opposed sometimes to Obscurity, and sometimes to Ornament ; the vulgar require a perspicuous, but by no means a dry and unadorned Style ; on the contrary, they have a taste rather for the over-florid, tawdry, and bombastic : nor are the ornaments of style by any means necessarily inconsistent with per- spicuity; indeed Metaphor, which is among the principal of them, is, in many cases, the clearest mode of expression that can be adopted ; it being usually much easier for uncultivated minds to comprehend a similitude or analogy, than an abstract term. And hence the language of savages, as has often been remarked, is highly metaphorical ; and such appears to have been the case with all languages in their earlier, and consequently ruder and more savage state ; all terms relating to the mind and its operations, being, as appears from the etymology of most of them, originally metaphorical ; though by long use they have ceased to be so : e. g. the words *' ponder," " deliberate," " reflect," and many other such, are evidently drawn by analogy from external sensible bodily actions. • See Elements of Logic. Fallacies, chap. iii. § 5. p. 146. 246 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IIL §3. ofTeSes. ^^ respect to the Construction of sentences, it is an obvious caution to abstain from such as are too long ; but it is a mistake to suppose that the obscurity of many long sentences depends on their length alone. A well con- structed sentence of very considerable length may be more readily understood, than a shorter one which is more awkwardly framed. If a sentence be so constructed that the meaning of each part can be taken in as we proceed, (though it be evident that the sense is not brought to a close,) its length will be little or no impediment to perspicuity ; but if the former part of the sentence convey no distinct meaning till we arrive nearly at the end, (however plain it may then appear,) it will be, on the whole, deficient in perspicuity ; for it will need to be read over, or thought over, a second time, in order to be fully compre- hended ; which is what few readers or hearers are willing to be burthened with. Take as an instance such a sentence as this : " It is not without a degree of patient attention and per- severing diligence, greater than the generality are willing to bestow, though not greater than the object deserves, that the habit can be acquired of examining and judging of our Chap. I. § 3. OF PERSPICUITY. 247 own conduct with the same accuracy and impartiahty as of that of another :" this labours under the defect I am speaking of; which may be remedied by some such alteration as the following : " the habit of examining our own conduct as accurately as that of another, and judging of it with the same impartiality, cannot be acquired without a degree of patient attention and persevering diligence, not greater indeed than the object deserves, but greater than the generality are willing to bestow." The two sentences are nearly the same in length, and in the words employed ; but the alte- ration of the arrangement allows the latter to be understood clause by clause, as it proceeds.* The caution just given is the more necessary to be insisted on, because an author is apt to be misled by reading over a sentence to himself, and being satisfied on finding it per- fectly intelligible ; forgetting that he himself * Care must be taken, however, in applying this precept, not to let the beginning of a sentence so forestall what follows as to render it apparently feeble and impertinent: e, g. " Solomon, one of the most celebrated of men for wisdom and for prosperity," . . . . " why who needs" (the hearer will be apt to say to himself) '* to be told that ?" and yet it may be important to the purpose in hand to fix the attention on these circumstances : let the description come before the name, and the sentence, while it remains equally perspicuous, will be free from the fault complained of. clearness of expression 248 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. has the advantage, which a hearer has not, of knowing at the beginning of the sentence what is coming in the close. Clear ideas Universallv, indeed, an unpractised writer is do not imply >' ' ' -i^ liable to be misled by his own knowledge of his own meaning, into supposing those ex- pressions clearly intelligible, which are so to himself; but which may not be so to the reader, whose thoughts are not in the same train. And hence it is that some do not write or speak with so much perspicuity on a subject which has long been very familiar to them, as on one, which they understand indeed, but with which they are less intimately acquainted, and in which their knowledge has been more recently acquired. In the former case it is a matter of some difficulty to keep in mind the necessity of carefully and copiously explaining principles which by long habit have come to assume in our minds the appearance of self- evident truths. So far from being correct is Blair's notion, that obscurity of Style ne- cessarily springs from indistinctness of Con- ception. §4. The foregoing rules have all, it is evident,, proceeded on the supposition that it is the writer's intention to be understood ; and this Chap. I. § 4. OF PERSPICUITY. 249 cannot but be the case in every legitimate exercise of the Rhetorical art ; and generally speaking, even where the design is Sophistical. For, as Dr. Campbell has justly remarked, the Sophist may employ for his purpose what are in themselves real and valid arguments ; since probabilities may lie on opposite sides, though truth can be but on one ; his fallacious artifice consisting only in keeping out of sight the stronger probabilities which may be urged against him, and in attributing an undue weight to those which he has to allege. Or again he may, either directly or indirectly, assume as self-evident a premiss which there is no suffi- cient ground for admitting ; or he may draw off the attention of the hearers to the proof of some irrelevant point, &c. according to the various modes described in the Treatise on Fallacies ; but in all this there is no call for any departure from perspicuity of Style, properly so called ; not even when he avails himself of an ambiguous term. " For though," as Dr. Campbefi says, " a Sophism can be mistaken for an Argument only where it is not rightly understood," it is the aim of him who employs it, rather that the matter should be misunderstood, than not understood ; — that his language should be deceitful, rather than obscure or unintelligible. The hearer must 250 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part II [. not indeed form a correct, but he must form some, and if possible, a distinct, though erroneous idea of the arguments employed, in order to be misled by them. The obscurity in short, if it is to be so called, must not be obscurity of Style; it must be, not like a mist which dims the appearance of objects, but like a coloured glass which disguises them. spurious There are, however, certain spurious kinds. Oratory. ^^ t o • • i • as they may be called, ot writmg or speakmg, (distinct from what is strictly termed Soph- istry,) in which obscurity of Style may be apposite. The Object which has all along been supposed, is that of convincing or per suading ; but there are some kinds of Oratory, if they are to be so named, in which some different End is proposed. Appearing Oue of thcse Euds is, (when the cause is something, such that It cannot be sufficiently supported I , even by specious Fallacies,) to appear to saij I something, when there is in fact nothing to be 1 said ; so as at least to avoid the ignominy of being silenced. To this end, the more con- fused and unintelligible the language, the better, provided it carry with it the appearance of profound wisdom, and of being something to the purpose. '* Now though nothing (says Dr. Campbell) would seem to be easier than this kind of Chap. I. §4. OF PERSUASION. 251 Style, where an author falls into it naturally ; that is, when he deceives himself as well as his reader, nothing is more difficult when at- tempted of design. It is beside requisite, if this manner must be continued for any time, that it be artfully blended with some glimpses of meaning ; else, to persons of discernment, the charm will at length be dissolved, and the nothingness of what has been spoken will be detected ; nay even the attention of the un- suspecting multitude, when not relieved by any thing that is level to their comprehension, will infallibly flag. The Invocation in the Dunciad admirably suits the Orator who is unhappily reduced to the necessity of taking shelter in the unintelligible : Of darkness visible so much he lent, As half to shew, half veil the deep intent." Chap. viii. sec. 1. p. 119. This artifice is distinguished from Sophistry, properly so called, (with which Dr. Campbell seems to confound it,) by the circumstance that its tendency is not, as in Sophistry, to convince, but to have the appearance of argu- ing, when in fact nothing is urged. For in order for men to be convinced, on however insufficient grounds, they must (as was re- marked above) understand something from 252 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. what is said, though if it be fallacious, they must not understand it rightly ; but if this cannot be accomplished, the Sophist's next resort is the unintelligible ; which indeed is very often intermixed with the Sophistical, when the latter is of itself too scanty or too weak. Nor does the adoption of this Style serve merely to save his credit as an Orator or Author ; it frequently does more : ignorant and unreflecting persons, though they cannot be, strictly speaking, convinced, by what they do not understand, yet will very often suppose, each, that the rest understand it ; and each is ashamed to acknowledge, even to himself, his own darkness and perplexity : so that if the speaker with a confident air announces his conclusion as established, they will often, ac- cording to the maxim " omne ignoium pro mirifico,'' take for granted that he has advanced valid arguments, and will be loth to seem behind-hand in comprehending them. It usually requires that a man should have some confidence in his own understanding, to venture to say, " what has been spoken is unintelligible to me." Another purpose sometimes answered by a discourse of this kind is, that it serves to furnish an excuse, flimsy indeed, but not un- frequently sufficient, for men to vote or act Chap. I. § 5. OF PERSPICUITY. 253 according to their own inclinations ; which they would perhaps have been ashamed to do, if strong arguments had been urged on the other side, and had remained confessedly unanswered; but they satisfy themselves, if something has been said in favour of the course they wish to adopt ; though that some- thing be only fair-sounding sentences that convey no distinct meaning. They are con- tent that an answer has been made, without troubhng themselves to consider what it is. §5. Another end, which in speakinsr is some- occupying ^ " time. times proposed, and which is, if possible, still more remote from the legitimate province of Rhetoric, is to occupy time. When an un- favourable decision is apprehended, and the protraction of the debate may afford time for fresh voters to be summoned, or may lead to an adjournment, which will afford scope for some other manoeuvre ;— when there is a chance of so wearying out the attention of the hearers, that they will listen with languor and impatience to what shall be urged on the other side, — when an advocate is called upon to plead a cause in the absence of those whose opinion it is of the utmost importance to 254 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. influence, and wishes to reserve all his Argu- ments till they arrive, but till then, must appa- rently proceed in his pleading ; in these and many similar cases, which it is needless to particularize, it is a valuable talent to be able to pour forth with fluency an unlimited quan- tity of well-sounding language which has little or no meaning, yet which shall not strike the hearers as unintelligible or nonsensical, though it convey to their minds no distinct idea. Perspicuity of Style, — real, not apparent, perspicuity, — is in this case never necessary, and sometimes, studiously avoided. If any distinct meaning were conveyed, then, if that which was said were irrelevant, it would be perceived to be so, and would produce impa- tience in the hearers, or afford an advantage to the opponents ; if, on the other hand, the speech were relevant, and there were no arguments of any force to be urged, except such as either had been already dwelt on, or were required to be reserved (as in the case last alluded to) for a fuller audience, the speaker would not further his cause by bring- ing them forward. So that the usual resource on these occasions, of such orators as tho- roughly understand the tricks of their art, and do not disdain to employ them, is to amuse their audience with specious emptiness. Chap. I. § G. OF PERSPICUITY. 255 It is most unfortunate, that in Sermons there should be so much temptation to fall into the first two (to say nothing of the third) of these kinds of spurious oratory. When it is appointed that a Sermon shall be preached, and custom requires that it shall be of a certain length, there cannot but be more danger that the preacher should chiefly consider himself as bound to say something, and to occupy the time prescribed, without keeping in mind the object of leaving his hearers the wiser or the better, than if he were to preach solely in consequence of his having such a specific object to accomplish.* § 6. Another kind of spurious Oratory, and the Jj^i^y «f i •' ' Eloquence. last that will be noticed, is that which has for its object to gain the hearer's admiration of the Eloquence displayed. This, indeed, con- i stitutes one of the three kinds of Oratory enumerated by Aristotle,f and is regularly treated of by him, along with the Deliberative * See part iii. chap. iii. § 2, ■j- For he says, that in each of the two other kinds, the hearer is a "judge ;" in the first of the "expedient," in the other, of the "just ;" hut in the third kind he is only Oewftocj literally, a Spectator ; and is a judge merely (tTjq ^wva/uewc) of the ability of the Orator. 256 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. and Judicial branches ; though it hardly de- serves the place he has bestowed on it. When this is the end pursued, perspicuity is not indeed to be avoided, but it may often without detriment be disregarded.* Men fre- quently admire as eloquent, and sometimes admire the most, what they do not at all, or do not fully, comprehend, if elevated and high sounding words be arranged in graceful and sonorous periods. Those of uncultivated minds especially are apt to think meanly of any thing that is brought down perfectly to the low level of their capacity ; though to do this with respect to valuable Truths which are not trite, is one of the most admirable feats of genius. They admire the profundity of one who is mystical and obscure ; mistaking the muddiness of the water for depth ; and magnifying in their imaginations what is viewed through a fog ; and they conclude that briUiant language must represent some brilliant ideas, without troubhng themselves to enquire what those ideas are. Many an enthusiastic admirer of a " fine discourse," or a piece of " fine writing," would be found on examination to retain only a few sonorous, but empty phrases ; and not only to have no notion of the general drift of the * See Appendix [G]. Chap. 1 1. § 1. OF ENERGY. 257 Argument, but not even to have ever considered whether the Author had any such drift or not. It is not meant to be insinuated that in every such case the composition is in itself unmeaning, or that the Author had no other object than the credit of Eloquence ; he may have had a higher End in view ; and he may have expressed himself very clearly to some hearers, though not to all ; but it is most important to be fully aware of the fact, that it is possible to obtain the highest applause from those who not only receive no edification from what they hear, but absolutely do not under- stand it. So far is popularity from being a safe criterion of the usefulness of a preacher. Chap. U. — Of Energy. §1- The next quality of Style to be noticed is what may be called Energy ; the term being used in a wider sense than the 'Eye/ayeta of Aristotle, and nearly corresponding with what Dr. Campbell calls Vivacity ; so as to compre- hend every thing that may conduce to stimu- late attention, — to impress strongly on the 258 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. III. mind the Arguments adduced, — to excite the Imagination, and to arouse the Feelings. This Energy then, or Vivacity of Style, must depend (as is likewise the case in respect of Perspicuity) on three things ; 1st, the Choice of words, 2nd, their Number, and 3rd, their Arrangement. Choice of words with a view to against ge- neral terms. With respect to the Choice of words, it will be most convenient to consider them under those two classes which Aristotle has described under the titles of Kuria and Xena, for which our language does not afford precisely corre- sponding names : " Proper," " Appropriate," or " Ordinary," terms, will the most nearly designate the former ; the latter class (literally the "■ Strange,") including all others ; — all that are in any way removed from common use ; — whether uncommon terms, or ordinary terms, either transferred to a different meaning from that which strictly belongs to them, or em- ployed in a different manner from that of common discourse. All the Tropes and Fi- gures, enumerated by Grammatical and Rhe- torical Writers, will of course fall under this head. With respect then to " Proper " terms, the principal rule for guiding our Choice with a view to Energy, is to prefer, ever, those words Chap. II. § 1. OF ENERGY. 259 which are the least abstract and general. Indi- viduals alone having a real existence,* the terms denoting them (called by Logicians " Singular terms ") will of course make the most vivid impression on the mind, and exercise most the power of Conception ; and the less remote any term is from these, L e. the more specific, the more Energy it will possess, in comparison of such as are more general. The impression produced on the mind by a singular term, may be compared to the distinct view taken in by the eye of any object (suppose some particular man) near at hand, in a clear light, which enables us to distinguish the features of the individual ; in a fainter light, or rather further off, we merely * Thence called by Aristotle, {Categ. sec. 3.) " primary substances " (Trpwrat ohcricu,) Genus and Species, being denominated " secondary," as not properly denoting a " really-existing-thing," (toEe ti,) but rather an attribute. He has, indeed, been considered as the great advocate of the opposite doctrine ; i. e. the system of" Realism ;" which was certainly embraced by many of his professed followers ; but his own language is sufficiently explicit. Ilao-a ce ovala ^OKEt Tode Ti ar]naivtiv, 'Etti ^itv ovv tGiv Trpwrwr ovaiwv dvaji- (^ia(iilTr]TOv kox dXrjdeg iariv, on roSe ti arj^aivei' clto^ov yap, Kal tv apidfji^ to hrfKovfxtvov Iittiv. 'RttI Ce njjv Sevripojv ov(Ti(ov $AINETAI fiev ofioiiOQ rw (7-)(7]fiaTi rrjc TzpoarjyopiaQ Tole Ti arjfiaivtiv, orav EiTrj}, dv0pw7roc, ?; ^wov OY MHN FE AAH6ES* aWa fxaWoy tto'iov ti ar^naivec k, t. \« Aristotle, Categ. § 3. See Logic, Dissert, c. v. s 2 260 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part TIL perceive that the object is a man ; this corre- sponds with the idea conveyed by the name of the Species ; yet further off, or in a still feebler light, we can distinguish merely some living object ; and at length, merely some object ; these views corresponding respectively with the terms denoting the genera, less or more remote. And as each of these views conveys, as far as it goes, an equally correct impression to the mind, (for we are equally certain that the object at a distance is something, as that the one close to us is such and such an individual,) though each, successively, is less vivid ; so, in language, a general term may be as clearly understood, as a Specific, or a Singular term, but will convey a much less forcible impression to the hearer's mind. " The more General the terms are," as (Dr. Campbell justly remarks,) " the picture is the fainter ; the more Special they are, the brighter. The same sentiment may be expressed with equal justness, and even equal perspicuity, in the former way, as in the latter; but as the colouring will in that case be more languid, it cannot give equal pleasure to the fancy, and by consequence will not contribute so much either to fix the attention, or to impress the memory." It might be supposed at first sight, that an Chap. II. §1. OF PERSUASION. 261 Author has httle or no choice on this point, but must employ either more or less general terms according to the objects he is speaking of. There is, however, in almost every case, great room for such a choice as we are speaking of; for, in the first place, it depends on our choice whether or not we will employ terms more general than the subject requires ; which may almost always be done consistently with Truth and Propriety, though not with Energy; if it be true that a man has committed murder, it may be correctly asserted, that he has committed a crime: if the Jews were " exter- minated," and *' Jerusalem demolished " by " Vespasian's army," it may be said, with truth, that they were " subdued " by " an Enemy,'' and their " Capital " taken. This substitution then of the General for the Specific, or of the Specific for the Singular, is always within our reach ; and many, especially unpractised Writers, fall into a feeble Style by resorting to it unnecessarily ; either because they imagine there is more appearance of refinement or of profundity, in the employment of such terms as are in less common use among the vulgar, or, in some cases, with a view to give greater comprehensiveness to their reasonings, and to increase the utility of what they say, by enlarging the field of its application. Inex- 262 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. perienced Preachers frequently err in this way, by dwelling on Virtue and Vice, — Piety and Irreligion, in the abstract, without particular- izing ; forgetting that while they include much, they impress little or nothing. The only appropriate occasion for this Generic language, (as it may be called,) is when we wish to avoid giving a vivid im- pression,— when our object is to soften what is offensive, disgusting, or shocking ; as when we speak of an " execution," for the infliction of the sentence of death on a criminal : of which kind of expressions, common discourse furnishes numberless instances. On the other hand, in Antony's speech over Caesar's body, his object being to excite horror, Shakspeare puts into his mouth the most particular ex- pressions ; " those honourable men (not, who killed Caesar, but) whose daggers have stabbed C aesar." §2. Tropes. But lu the secoud place, not only does a regard for Energy require that we should not use terms more general than are exactly adequate to the objects spoken of, but we are also allowed, in many cases, to employ less general terms than are exactly Appropriate. In which case we are employing words not Chap. II. §2. OF ENERGY. 263 ** Appropriate," but belonging to the second of the two classes just mentioned. The use of this Trope* (enumerated by Aristotle among the Metaphors, but since, more commonly called Synecdoche) is very frequent ; as it con- duces much to the energy of the expression, without occasioning, in general, any risk of its meaning being mistaken. The passage cited by Dr. Campbell,f from one of our Lord's discourses, (which are in general of this character,) together with the remarks made upon it, will serve to illustrate what has been just said : " ' Consider,' says our Lord, * the lilies how they grow : they toil not, they spin not ; and yet I say unto you, that Solo- mon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. If then God so clothe the grass, which to-day is in the field, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, how much more will he clothe you?' J Let us here adopt a Httle of the tasteless manner of modern paraphrasts by the substitution of more General terms, one of their many expedients of infrigidating, * From rpsTTw ; any word turned from its primary signi- fication. f The ingenious Author cites this in the Section treating of ''Proper terms," which is a trifling oversight ; as it is plain that " lily" is Used for the Genus " flower," — " Solo- mon," for the Species " King," &c. X Luke xii. 27, 28. 264 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. and let us observe the effect produced by this change. ' Consider the flowers, how they gradually increase in their size ; they do no manner of work, and yet I declare to you, that no king whatever, in his most splendid habit, is dressed up like them. If then God in his providence doth so adorn the vegetable productions, which continue but little time on the land, and are afterwards devoted to the meanest uses, how much more will he provide clothing for you ?' How spiritless is the same sentiment rendered by these small variations ? The very particularizing of to-day and to-mor- row, is infinitely more expressive of transitori- nesSjthan any description wherein the terms are general, that can be substituted in its room." It is a remarkable circumstance that this characteristic of style is perfectly retained in translation, in which every other excellence of expression is liable to be lost ; so that the prevalence of this kind of language in the Sacred writers may be regarded as something exhibiting wisdom of design. It may be said with truth, that the book which it is the most necessary to translate into every language, is chiefly characterised by that kind of excel- lence in diction which is least impaired by translation. Chap. 11. § 3. OF ENERGY. 265 §3. But to proceed with the consideration of^^^^l^l;," Tropes ; the most employed and most im- portant of all those kinds of expressions which depart from the plain and strictly Appropriate Style, — all that are called by Aristotle, Hem, — is the Metaphor, in the usual and hmited sense ; viz. a word substituted for another, on account of the Resemblance or Analogy be- tween their significations. The Simile or Comparison may be considered as differing in form only from a Metaphor ; the resemblance being in that case stated, which in the Meta- phor is implied.* Each may be founded either on Resemblance, strictly so called, i. e. direct resemblance between the objects them- selves in question, (as when we speak of " tahle-Xoxidi,'' or compare great waves to moun- tains^ or on Analogy, which is the resem- blance of Ratios, — a similarity of the relations they bear to certain other objects ; as when we speak of the *' light of reason," or of '' re- velation ;" or compare a wounded and captive warrior to a stranded ship.f The Analogical Metaphors and Comparisons are both the more frequent and the more striking. They * See Logic, chap. iii. f Roderic Dhu, in the Lady of the Lake. 266 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. are the more frequent, because almost every object has such a multitude of relations, of different kinds, to many other objects ; and they are the more striking, because (as Dr. A. Smith has well remarked) the more remote and unlike in themselves any two objects are, the more is the mind impressed and gratified by the perception of some point in which they agree. It has been already observed, under the head of Example, that we are carefully to distinguish between an Illustration, (i. e. an Argument from analogy or resemblance,) and what is properly called a Simile or Comparison, introduced merely to give force or beauty to the expression. The aptness and beauty of an Illustration sometimes leads men to overrate, and sometimes to underrate, its force as an Argument.* With respect to the choice between the Metaphorical form and that of Comparison, it may be laid down as a general rule, that the former is always to be preferred,f wherever it is sufficiently simple and plain to be imme- diately comprehended ; but that which as a * See part i. chap. iii. §. 2. p. 79. \ "EoTiJ' 7} f.iKU)V fxsrnfopa, ciaipipovaa TrpocrQiazc Sio rfrror riSv, oTi fxaKporipwc' k. t. X. Aristotle, Rhet. book iii. chap. 10. Chap. il. § 3. OF ENERGY. 267 Metaphor would sound obscure and enig- matical, may be well received if expressed as a Comparison. We may say, e. g. with pro- priety, that " Cromwell trampled on the laws;" it would sound feeble to say that '* he treated the laws with the same contempt as a man does any thing which he tramples under his feet. On the other hand it would be harsh and obscure to say, "the stranded vessel lay shaken by the waves," meaning the wounded Chief tossing on the bed of sickness ; it is therefore necessary in such a case to state the resemblance. But this is never to be done more fully than is necessary to perspicuity ; because all men are more gratified at catching the Resemblance for themselves, than at having it pointed out to them.* And accord- slmuf"""'^ ingly the greatest masters of this kind of style, when the case will not admit of pure Meta- phor, generally prefer a mixture of Metaphor with Simile ; first pointing out the similitude, and afterwards employing metaphorical terms which imply it; or, vice versa, explaining a Metaphor by a statement of the Comparison. To take examples of both kinds from an Author who particularly excels in this point ; (speaking of a morbid Fancy,) * To ^avOai'Eii' pa^iwg ffSv ^vaii. Aristotle, Rhet. book iii. chap. 5. 268 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. ' like the bat of Indian brakes, Her pinions fan the wound she makes, And soothing thus the dreamer's pain. She drinks the life-blood from the vein.* The word " like " makes this a Comparison ; but the three succeeding hues are Metaphorical. Again, to take an instance of the other kind : They melted from the field, as snow, When streams are swoln, and south winds blow, Dissolves in silent dew.f Of the words here put in itahcs, the former is a Metaphor, the latter introduces a Com- parison. Though the instances here adduced are taken from a Poet, the judicious manage- ment of Comparison which they exemplify, is even more essential to a Prose-writer, to whom less licence is allowed in the employment of it. It is a remark of Aristotle, {Rhet. book iii. chap. 4.) that the Simile is more suitable in Poetry, and that Metaphor is the only orna- ment of language in which the Orator may freely indulge. He should therefore be the more careful to bring a Simile as near as possible to the Metaphorical form. The fol- lowing is an example of the same kind of expression : " These metaphysic rights enter- ing into common life, like rays of light which * Rokeby. t Marmion. Chap. II. § 3. OF ENERGY. 269 pierce into a dense medium, are, by the laws of nature, refracted from their straight Hne. Indeed, in the gross and comphcated mass of human passions and concerns, the primitive rights of man undergo such a variety of refrac- tions, and reflections, that it becomes absurd to talk of them as if they continued in the simplicity of their original direction." * Metaphors may be employed, as Aristotle Elevating o , • 1 1 1 degrading observes, either to elevate or to degrade the Metaphors subject, according to the design of the Author ; being drawn from similar or corresponding objects of a higher or lower character. Thus a loud and vehement Speaker may be described either as bellowing, or as thundering. And in both cases, if the Metaphor is apt and suitable to the purpose designed, it is alike conducive to Energy. He remarks that the same holds good with respect to Epithets also, which may be drawn either from the highest or the lowest attributes of the thing spoken of. Metonymy likewise (in which a part is put for a whole, a cause for an effect, &c.) admits of a similar variety in its applications. A happier example cannot be found than the one which Aristotle cites from Simonides, who, when offered a small price for an Ode to * Burke, On the French Revolution. 270 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. celebrate a victory in a mule-race, expressed his contempt for half-asses, ('^/juIovol,) as they were commonly called ; but when a larger sum was offered, addressed them in an Ode as *' Daughters of Steeds swift-as-the-storm." deWoTToScov dvyarpes lirircov. Any Trope (as is remarked by Dr. Campbell) adds force to the expression, when it tends to fix the mind on that part, or circumstance, in the object spoken of, which is most essential to the purpose in hand. Thus, there is an Energy in Abraham's Periphrasis for *^ God," when he is speaking of the allotment of Divine punishment : '* shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ?" If again we were alluding to His omniscience, it would be more suitable to say, '^this is known only to the Searcher of hearts:" if, to his power, we should speak of Him as " the Almighty," &c. Of Metaphors, those generally conduce most to that Energy or Vivacity of Style we are speaking of, which illustrate an intellectual by a sensible object ; the latter being always the most early familiar to the mind, and gene- rally giving the most distinct impression to it. Thus we speak of " unbridled rage," " deep- rooted prejudice," "glowing eloquence," a " stony heart," &c. And a similar use may be made of Metonymy also ; as when we speak of Chap. II. §3. OF ENERGY. 271 the " Throne;' or the " Crown " for " Royalty," — the " sword" for '' military violence," &c. But the highest degree of Energy (and to Epiims"^ which Aristotle chiefly restricts the term) is produced by such Metaphors as attribute life and action to things inanimate ; and that, even when by this means the last-mentioned rule is violated, i. e. when sensible objects are illus- trated by intellectual. For the disadvantage is overbalanced by the vivid impression produced by the idea o{ personality or activity ; as when we speak of the rage of a torrent, a furious storm, a river disdaining to endure its bridge, &c.* The figure called by Rhetoricians Prosopo- poeia (literally. Personification,) is, in fact, no other than a Metaphor of this kind : thus, in Demosthenes, Greece is represented as address- ing the Athenians. So also in the book of Genesis, (chap. iv. ver. 10,) " the e^oice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground." Many such expressions, indeed, are in such common use as to have lost all their Meta- phorical force, since they cease to suggest the idea belonging to their primary signification, and thus are become, practically. Proper terms. But a new, or at least unhackneyed. Metaphor * Pontem indignalus. 272 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. of this kind, if it be not far-fetched and obscure, adds greatly to the force of the ex- pression. This was a favourite figure with Homer, from whom Aristotle has cited several examples of it ; as " the raging arrow," " the darts eager to taste of flesh/'* " the shameless" (or, as it might be rendered with more exact- ness, though with less dignity, " the provoking') stone," (\aas dvatSris,) which mocks the efforts of Sisyphus, &c. Our language possesses one remarkable advantage, with a view to this kind of Energy, in the constitution of its genders. All nouns in English, which express objects that are really neuter, are considered as strictly of the neuter gender ; the Greek and Latin, though possessing the advantage (which is wanting in the languages derived from Latin) of having a neuter gender, yet lose the benefit of it, by fixing the masculine or feminine genders upon many nouns denoting things inanimate ; whereas in English, when we speak of any such object in the masculine or feminine gender, that form of expression at once confers * There is a peculiar aptitude in some of these expres- sions which the modern student is very likely to overlook ; an arrow or dart, from its flying with a spinning motion, quivers violently when it is fixed ; thus suggesting the idea of a person trembling with eagerness. Chap. II. § 3. OF ENERGY. 273 personality upon it. When " Virtue," e. g. or our '* Country," are spoken of as females, or *' Ocean " as a male, &c. they are, by that very circumstance, personified ; and a stimulus is thus given to the imagination, from the very circumstance that in calm discussion or description, all of these would be neuter ; whereas in Greek or Latin, as in French or Italian, no such distinction could be made. The employment o^ "Virtus " and "'Aperrj" in the feminine gender, can contribute, accord- ingly, no animation to the Style, when they could not, without a Solecism, be employed otherwise. There is, however, very little, comparatively, MetaJ.hon of Energy produced by any Metaphor or Simile that is in common use, and already familiar to the hearer. Indeed, what were originally the boldest Metaphors, are become, by long use, virtually. Proper terms ; (as is the case with the words " source," " reflection," &c. in their transferred senses) and frequently are even nearly obsolete in the literal sense, as in the words *' ardour," ** acuteness," " ruminate," &c. If, again, a Metaphor or Simile that is not so hackneyed as to be considered common property, be taken from any known Author, it strikes every one, as no less a plagiarism than if an entire argument or description had been 274 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III: thus transferred. And hence it is, that, as Aristotle remarks, the skilful employment of these, more than of any other, ornaments of language, may be regarded as a mark of genius, (ev(fivtas (Trjfielov). Not that he means to say, as some interpreters suppose, that this power is entirely a gift of nature, and in no degree to be learnt ; on the contrary, he expressly affirms, that the " perception of Resemblances,"* on which it depends, is the fruit of " Philoso- phy ;"t but he means that Metaphors are not to be, like other words and phrases, selected from common use, and transferred from one composition to another, ;j; but must be formed for the occasion. Some care is accordingly requisite, in order that they may be readily comprehended, and may not have the appear- ance of being far-fetched and extravagant. For this purpose it is usual to combine with the Metaphor a Proper term which explains it ; viz. either attributing to the term in its transferred sense, something which does not belong to it in its literal sense ; or vice versa, denying of it in its transferred sense, something which does belong to it in its literal sense. To call the Sea the " watery bulwark" of our * To onoiov hpav. Aristotle, Rhet. book ii. t 'P^iov £(c (piXoaocptae. Aristotle, Rhet. book ii. and iii. ;J: OvK t(jTi Trap dXXov \a(ieiv. Ibid, book iii. Chap. II. §3. OF ENERGY. 275 island, would be an instance of the former kind ; an example of the latter is the expres- sion of a writer who speaks of the dispersion of some hostile fleet, by the winds and waves, *' those ancient and iinsubsidized allies of England." It is hardly necessary to mention the obvious and hackneyed cautions against mixture of Metaphors ; and against any that are complex and far-pursued, so as to approach to Allegory. In reference to the former of these faults. Dr. Johnson justly censures Addison for speak- ing of "bridling in his muse, who longs to launch into a nobler strain ;" '' which," says the Critic, " is an act that was never restrained by a bridle." Some, however, are too fastidious on this point. Words, v/hich by long use in a transferred sense, have lost nearly all their metaphorical force, may fairly be combined in a manner which, taking them literally, would be incongruous. It would savour of hyper- criticism to object to such an expression as ** fertile source." In reference to the other fault, — that of the too complex Metaphor, — it should be observed that the more apt and striking is the Analogy suggested, the more will it have of an artificial appearance ; and will draw off the reader's attention from the subject, to admire the T 2 276 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. ingenuity displayed in the Style. Young writers of genius ought especially to be ad- monished to ask themselves frequently, not whether this or that is a striking expression, but whether it makes the meaning more strik- ing than another phrase would, — whether it impresses more forcibly the sentiment to be conveyed. §4. Epithets. It is a common practice with some writers to endeavour to add force to their expressions by accumulating high-sounding Epithets,* denoting the greatness, beauty, or other admi- rable qualities of the things spoken of; but the effect is generally the reverse of what is intended. Most readers, except those of a very vulgar or puerile taste, are disgusted at studied efforts to point out and force upon their attention whatever is remarkable ; and this, even when the ideas conveyed are themselves striking. But when an attempt is made to cover poverty of thought with mock sublimity of language, and to set off trite * Epithets, in the Rhetorical sense, denote, not every adjective, but those only which do not add to the sense, but signify something already implied in the noun itself; as, if one says, " the glorious sun :" on the other hand, to speak of the " rising " or " meridian sun " would not be considered as, in this sense, employing an Epithet. Chap. II. §4- OF ENERGY. 277 sentiments and feeble arguments by tawdry magnificence, the only result is, that a kind of indignation is superadded to contempt ; as when (to use Quinctilian's comparison) an attempt is made to supply, by paint, the natural glow of a youthful and healthy com- plexion. " A principal device in the fabrication of this Style," (the mock-eloquent,) " is to multi- ply epithets, — dry epithets, laid on the outside, and into which none of the vitality of the sentiment is found to circulate. You may take a great number of the words out of each page, and find that the sense is neither more nor less for your having cleared the composi- tion of these Epithets of chalk of various colours, with which the tame thoughts had submitted to be rubbed over, in order to be made fine." * We expect, indeed, and excuse in ancient Frigid st>ie. writers, as a part of the unrefined simplicity of a ruder language, such a redundant use of Epithets as would not be tolerated in a modern, even in a translation of their works ; the " white milk," and " dark gore," &c. of Homer, must not be retained ; at least, not so frequently as they occur in the original. Aristotle, indeed, gives us to understand that * Foster, Essay iv. 278 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. in his time this hberty was still allowed to Poets ; but later taste is more fastidious. He censures, however, the adoption, by prose- writers, of this, and of every other kind of ornament that might seem to border on the poetical; and he bestows on such a style the appellation of "frigid^' (if^XP^^)) which at first sight may appear somewhat remarkable, (though the same expression, "frigid," might very properly be so applied in our own lan- guage also) because the words *' warm" *' glowing, '^ and such-like Metaphors, seem naturally applicable to poetry. This very circumstance, however, does in reality account for the use of the other expression. We are, in poetical prose, reminded of, and for that reason disposed to miss, the "warmth and glow" of poetry. It is on the same principle that we are disposed to speak of coldness in the rays of the moon, because they remind us of sunshine, but want its warmth ; and that (to use an humbler and more familiar instance) an empty fire-place is apt to suggest an idea of cold. The use of Epithets however, in prose composition, is not to be proscribed ; as the judicious employment of them is undoubtedly conducive to Energy. It is extremely difficult to lay down any precise rules on such a point. Chap. II. § 4. OF ENERGY. 279 The only safe guide in practice must be a taste formed from a familiarity with the best Authors, and from the remarks of a skilful Critic on one's own compositions. It may, however, be laid down as a general caution, more particularly needful for young writers, that an excessive luxuriance of style, and espe- cially a redundancy of Epithets, is the worse of the two extremes ; as it is a positive fault, and a very offensive one ; while the opposite is but the absence of an excellence. It is also an important rule, that the boldest caution i- ' against uni- and most striking, and almost poetical, turns Ha™^"'' of expression, should be reserved (as Aristotle has remarked, book iii. chap. 7.) for the most impassioned parts of a discourse ; and that an Author should guard against the vain ambition of expressing every thing in an equally high- wrought, brilHant, and forcible Style. The neglect of this caution often occasions the imitation of the best models, to prove detri- mental. When the admiration of some fine and animated passages leads a young writer to take those passages for his general model, and to endeavour to make every sentence he composes equally fine, he will, on the contrary, give a flatness to the whole, and destroy the effect of those portions which would have been forcible if they had been allowed to stand thets. 280 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IIL prominent. To brighten the dark parts of a picture, produces much the same result as if one had darkened the bright parts ; in either case there is a want of relief and contrast ; and Composition, as well as Painting, has its lights and shades, which must be distributed with no less skill, if we would produce the desired effect.* usesofepi- lu no placc, however, will it be advisable to introduce any Epithet which does not fulfil one of these two purposes; 1st, to explain a Metaphor; a use which has been noticed under that head, and which will justify, and even require, the introduction of an Epithet, which, if it had been joined to the Proper term, would have been glaringly superfluous ; thus, u^schylusf speaks of the ** winged hound of Jove," meaning the Eagle : to have said the " winged eagle" would have had a very different effect; 2dly, when the Epithet ex- presses something which, though implied in the subject, would not have been likely to occur at once spontaneously to the hearer's mind, and yet is important to be noticed with a view to the purpose in hand. Indeed it will generally happen, that the Epithets employed * Omnia vult belle Matho dicere ; die aliquando Et bene ; die neutrum : die aliquando male. f Prometheus. Chap. II. § 5. OF ENERGY. 281 by a skilful Orator, will be found to be, in fact, so many abridged arguments, the force of which is sufficiently conveyed by a mere hint ; e. g. if any one says, " we ought to take warning from the hloody revolution of France," the Epithet suggests one of the reasons for our being warned ; and that, not less clearly, and more forcibly, than if the argument had been stated at length. § 5. With respect to the use of Antiquated, y^;'°™7J; Foreign, New-coined, or New-compounded words,* or words applied in an unusual sense, it may be sufficient to observe, that all writers, and prose-writers most, should be very cautious and sparing in the use of them ; not only because in excess they produce a barbarous dialect, but because they are so likely to suggest the idea of artifice ; the perception of which is most especially adverse to Energy. The occasional apt introduction of such a * It is a curious instance of whimsical inconsistency, that many who, with justness, censure as pedantic the frequent introduction of Greek and Latin words, neither object to, nor refrain from, a similar pedantry with respect to French and Italian. This kind of affectation is one of the " dangers " of " a little learning :" those who are really good linguists arc seldom so anxious to display their knowledge. 282 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. term will sometimes produce a powerful effect ; but whatever may seem to savour of affecta- tion, or even of great solicitude and study in the choice of terms, will effectually destroy the true effect of eloquence. The language which betrays art, and carries not an air of simplicity and sincerity, may, indeed, by some hearers, be thought not only very fine, but even very energetic ; this very circumstance, however, may be taken for a proof that it is not so ; for if it had been, they would not have thought about it, but would have been occupied, exclusively, with the subject. An unstudied and natural air, therefore, is an excellence to which the true orator, i. e. he who is aiming to carry his pointy will be ready to sacrifice any other that may interfere with it. Words consi- The prluciplc here laid down will especially sounds. apply to the choice of words, with a view to their Imitative, or otherwise appropriate Sound. The attempt to make '' the sound an echo to the sense," is indeed more frequently to be met with in poets than in prose writers ; but it may be worth remarking, that an evident effort after this kind of excellence, as it is offensive in any kind of composition, would in prose appear peculiarly disgusting. Critics treating on this subject have gone into opposite Chap. II. § 5. OF ENERGY. 283 extremes ; some fancifully attributing to words, or combinations of words, an imitative power far beyond what they can really possess,* and representing this kind of Imitation as deserv- ing to be studiously aimed at ; and others, on the contrary, considering nearly the whole of this kind of excellence as no better than imaginary, and regarding the examples which do occur, and have been cited, of a congruity between the sound and the sense, as purely accidental. The truth probably lies between these two extremes. In the first place, that words denoting sounds, or employed in describing them, may be Imitative of those sounds, must be admitted by all ; indeed this kind of Imitation is, to a certain degree, almost unavoidable, in our language at least ; which abounds perhaps more than any other, in these, as they may be called, naturally expressive terms ; such as * Pope has accordingly been justly censured for liis inconsistency in making the Alexandrine represent both a quick and a slow motion : 1. " Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main." 2. " Which, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along." In the first instance, he forgot that an Alexandrine is long, from containing more feet than a common verse ; whereas a long hexameter has but the same number of feet as a short one, and therefore being pronounced in the same time, seems to move more rapidly. 284 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. **hiss;' "rattle," "clatter," "splash," and many others.* In the next place, it is also allowed by most, that quick or slow motion may, to a certain degree at least, be imitated or repre- sented by words ; many short syllables (unin- cumbered by a clash either of vowels, or of consonants coming together) being pronounced in the same time with a smaller number of long syllables, abounding with these incum- brances, the former seems to have a natural correspondence to a quick, and the latter to a slow motion ; since in the one a greater, and in the other a less space, seem to be passed over in the same time. In the ancient Poets, their hexameter verses being always considered as of the same length, i. e. in respect of the time taken to pronounce them, whatever proportion of dactyls or spondees they contained, this kind of Imitation of quick or slow motion, is the more apparent ; and after making all allowances for fancy, it seems impossible to doubt that in many instances it does exist ; as, e. g. in the often-cited line which expresses the rolling of Sisyphus's stone down the hill : AvQlq eVeira TrihovZe KvKivliTO Xaaq dvaihrjQ. * See Wallis, Gram. Anglic. Chap. II. §5. OF ENERGY. 285 The following passage from the jEneid can hardly be denied to exhibit a correspondence with the slow and quick motions at least, which it describes ; that of the Trojans labo- riously hewing the foundations of a tower on the top of Priam's palace, and that of its sudden and violent fall : *' Aggressl ferro circum, qua summa labantes* Juncturds tahulata dabat, divellimits altis Sedtbiis, impulimusque, ed lapsd repente ruinam Ctmi sonitu trdhit, et Ddndum super agmind late Incidit." — But, lastly, it seems not to require any excessive exercise of fancy to perceive, if not, properly speaking, an Imitation, by words, of other things besides sound and motion, at least, an Analogical aptitude. That there is at least an apparent Analogy between things sensible, and things intelligible, is implied by numberless Metaphors ; as when we speak of '' rough, or harsh, soft, or smooth, manners," * Tlie slow movement of this line would be much more perceptible, if we pronounced (as doubtless the Latins did) the doubled consonants; " ag-gres-si fer-ro sum-ma:" but in English, and consequently in the English way of reading Latin or Greek, the doubling of a consonant only serves to fix the place of the accent ; the latter of the two being never pronounced, except in a very few compound words ; as " innate," " connatural," " poor-rate," " hop- pole." 286 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. " turbulent passions," the " stroke, or the storms, of adversity," &c. Now if there are any words, or combinations of words, which have in their sound a congruity with certain sensible objects, there is no reason why they should not have the same congruity with those emotions, actions, &c. to which these sensible objects are analogous. Especially, as it is universally allowed that certain musical combinations are, respectively, appropriate to the expression of grief, anger, agitation, &c. On the whole, the most probable conclusion seems to be, that many at least of the cele- brated passages that are cited as Imitative in sound, were, on the one hand, not the result of accident, nor yet, on the other hand, of studij ; but that the idea in the author's mind spontaneously suggested appropriate sounds : thus, when Milton's mind was occupied with the idea of the opening of the infernal gates, it seems natural that his expression, " And on their hinges grate harsh thunder," should have occurred to him without any distinct intention of imitating sounds. It will be the safest rule, therefore, for a prose-writer at least, never to make any dis- tinct effort after this kind of Energy of ex- pression, but to trust to the spontaneous Chap. II. § 6. OF ENERGY. 287 occurrence of suitable sounds on every occa- sion where the introduction of them is likely to have good effect. §6. It is hardly necessary to mve any warning, Technical •/ J c J o' language. generally, against the unnecessary introduc- tion of Technical language of any kind, when the meaning can be adequately, or even tolerably, expressed in common, i. e. unscien- tific words. The terms and phrases of Art have an air of pedantic affectation, for which they do not compensate, by even the smallest appearance of increased Energy.* But there * Of course this rule does not apply to avowedly technical systems of instruction. In such works the usual and the best rule is, to employ as far as possible such technical terms as custom has already established ; defining, modi- fying, restricting, extending, &c. these, if necessary, as the occasion may require. Sometimes however the introduction of new ones will be called for, either in addition to the others, or in their stead, when there are very strong objec- tions against these. It is no uncommon trick with some writers to invent and adopt, on the slightest pretext, complete new sets of technical terms, the more strange and uncouth, the better for their purpose ; and thus to pass off long-known truths for prodigious discoveries, and gain the credit of universal originality by the boldness of their innovations in language : like some voyagers of discovery, who take possession of countries, whether before-visited or not, by formally giving them new names. 288 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. is an apparent exception to this rule, in the case of what may he called the " Theological Style ;" a peculiar phraseology, adopted more or less by a large proportion of writers of Sermons and other religious works ; consisting partly of peculiar terms, but chiefly of common words used in a peculiar sense or combination, so as to form altogether a kind of diction widely differing from the classical standard of Theological the lauguage. This phraseoloofy havinof being; style. & O V &/ C5 O formed partly from the style of some of the most eminent Divines, partly, and to a much greater degree, from that of the Scriptures, I. e. of our Version, has been supposed to carry with it an air of appropriate dignity and sanctity, which greatly adds to the force of what is said. And this may, perhaps, be the case when what is said is of little or no intrinsic weight, and is only such meagre common-place as many religious works consist of: the associations which such language will excite in the minds of those accustomed to it, supplying in some degree the deficiencies of the matter. But this diction, though it may serve as a veil for poverty of thought, will be found to produce no less the effect of obscuring the lustre of what is truly valuable : if it adds an appearance of strength to what is weak, it adds weakness to what is strong; and if Chap. II. §G. OF ENERGY. 280 pleasing to those of narrow and ill-cultivated minds, it is in a still higher degree repulsive to persons of taste. It may be said, indeed, with truth, that the improvement of the majority is a higher object than the gratification of a refined taste in a few ; but it may be doubted whether any real Energy, even with respect to any class of hearers, is gained by the use of such a diction as that of which I am speaking. For it will often be found that what is received with great approbation, is yet, even if, strictly speaking, understood, but very little attended to, or impressed upon the minds of the hearers. Terms and phrases which have been long familiar to them, and have certain vague and indistinct notions associated with them, men often suppose themselves to understand much more fully than they do ; and still oftener give a sort of indolent assent to what is said, without making any effort of thought. It is justly observed by Mr. Foster, {Essay iv.) when treating on this subject, that "with regard to a considerable proportion of Christian readers and hearers, a reformed language would be excessively strange to them ;'* but that '* its being so strange to them, would be a proof of the necessity of adopting it, at least, in part, and by degrees. u 290 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. For the manner in which some of them would receive this altered diction, would prove that the customary phraseology had scarcely given them any clear ideas. It would be found that the peculiar phrases had been not so much the vehicles of ideas, as the substitutes for them.* These readers and hearers have been accus- tomed to chime to the sound, without appre- hending the sense ; insomuch, that if they hear the very ideas which these phrases sig- nify, expressed ever so simply in other lan- guage, they do not recognise them." He observes also, with much truth, that the studied incorporation and imitation of the lan- guage of the Scriptures in the texture of any Discourse, neither indicates reverence for the sacred composition, nor adds to the dignity of that which is human : but rather diminishes that of such passages as might be introduced from the sacred writings in pure and distinct quotation, standing contrasted with the general Style of the work. Of the Technical terms, as they may be called, of Theology, there are many, the place * It may be added that many would at once take for granted that any alteration in the statement of any doctrine, though the phrases they had been accustomed to were avowedly of Man's framing, — implies a rejection of the doc- trine itself; and they would accordingly raise a cry of Heresy. Chap. II. §G. OF ENERGY. 291 of which might easily be supplied by corre- sponding expressions in common use : there are many, again, which are remnants of the philosophy of the School-men, but are em- ployed frequently by persons who know no- thing of the metaphysical theories which gave rise to the use of such terms :* there are others, doubtless, which, denoting ideas exclu- sively belonging to the subject, could not be avoided without a tedious circumlocution ; these, therefore, may be admitted as allow- able peculiarities of diction ; and the others, perhaps, need not be entirely disused : but it is highly desirable that both should be very frequently exchanged for words or phrases entirely free from any Technical peculiarity, even at the expense of some circumlocution. Not that this should be done so constantly as to render the terms in question obsolete ; but by introducing frequently, both the term, and a sentence explanatory of the same idea, the evil just mentioned, — the habit of not think- ing, or not thinking attentively, of the mean- ing of what is said, will be, in great measure, guarded against, — the Technical words them- selves will make a more forcible expression, — and the danger of sliding into unmeaning cant * See Hampden, Bampton Led. u2 292 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III will be materially lessened. Such repetitions, therefore, will more than compensate for, or rather will be exempt from, any appearance of tediousness, by the addition both of Per- spicuity and Energy. ** It must indeed be acknowledged, that in many cases innovations have been introduced, partly by the ceasing to employ the words designating those doctrines which were de- signed to be set aside : but it is probable they may have been still more frequently and suc- cessfully introduced under the advantage of retaining the terms, while the principles were gradually subverted. And therefore, since the peculiar words can be kept to one invariable signification only by keeping that signification clearly in sight, by means of something separate from these words themselves, it might be wise in Christian authors and speakers sometimes to express the ideas in common words, either in connexion with the peculiar terms, or, occasionally, instead of them. Common words might less frequently be ap- plied, as affected denominations of things, which have their own direct and common de- nominations, and be less frequently combined into uncouth phrases. Many peculiar and antique words might be exchanged for other single words of equivalent signification, and Chap. II. § 6. OF ENERGY. 293 in common use. And the small number of peculiar terms acknowledged and established, as of permanent use and necessity, might, even separately from the consideration of modifying the diction, be, occasionally, with advantage to the explicit declaration and clear comprehension of Christian truth, made to give place to a fuller expression, in a number of common words, of those ideas of which they are single signs.* It may be asserted, with but too much truth, that a very considerable proportion of Christians have a habit of laying aside in a great degree their common seiise, and letting it, as it were, lie dormant, when points of Reli- gion come before them ; — as if Reason were utterly at variance with Religion, and the ordinary principles of sound Judgment were to be completely superseded on that subject ; and accordingly it will be found, that there are many errors which are adopted, — many truths which are overlooked, or not clearly un- derstood,— and many difficulties which stagger and perplex them, — for want, properly speak- ing, of the exercise of their common sense ; i. e. in cases precisely analogous to such as daily occur in the ordinary affairs of life ; in which * Foster, Essay iv. p. JiOl. on the num- ber of the words. 294 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. those very same persons would form a correct, clear, prompt, and decisive judgment. It is well worthy of consideration, how far the tendency to this habit might be diminished by the use of a diction conformable to the sug- gestions which have been here thrown out. § 7. Energy as With rCSpCCt tO thc NumbeV of words em- dependent ployed, " it is certain," as Dr. Campbell ob- serves, " that of whatever kind the sentiment be, witty, humorous, grave, animated, or sub- lime, the more briefly it is expressed, the Energy is the greater." — '* As when the rays of the sun are collected into the focus of a burning-glass, the smaller the spot is which receives them compared with the surface of the glass, the greater is the splendour, so, in exhibiting our sentiments by speech, the narrower the compass of words is, wherein the thought is comprised, the more energetic is the expression. Accordingly, we find that the very same sentiment expressed diffusely, will be admitted barely to be just ; — expressed concisely, will be admired as spirited." He afterwards remarks, that though a languid redundancy of words is in all cases to be avoided, the energetic brevity which is the most contrary to it, is not adapted alike to Chap. II. § 7- OF ENERGY. 295 every subject and occasion. " The kinds of writing which are less susceptible of this ornament, are the Descriptive, the Pathetic, the Declamatory,* especially the last. It is, besides, much more suitable in writing than in speaking. A reader has the command of his time ; he may read fast or slow, as he finds convenient ; he can peruse a sentence a second time when necessary, or lay down the book and think. But if, in haranguing the people, you comprise a great deal in few words, the hearer must have uncommon quick- ness of apprehension to catch the meaning, before you have put it out of his power, by engaging his attention to something else." The mode in which this inconvenience should be obviated, and in which the requisite expansion may be given to any thing which the persons addressed cannot comprehend in a very small compass, is, as I have already remarked, not so much by increasing the number of words in which the sentiment is conveyed in each sentence, (though in this, some variation must of course be admitted,) as by repeating it in various forms. The un- cultivated and the dull will require greater * This remark is made, and the principle of it (which Dr. Campbell has omitted) subjoined, in part ii. chap. ii. § 2. of this Treatise. and to Energy 296 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part 111. expansion, and more copious illustration of the same thought, than the educated and the acute ; but they are even still more liable to be wearied or bewildered by prolixity. If the material is too stubborn to be speedily cleft,, we must patiently continue our efforts for a longer time, in order to accomplish it : but this is to be done, not by making each blow fall more slowly, which would only enfeeble them, but by often-repeated blows. Verbosity It is Hccdful to lusist the more on the ener- adverse to •ret n r^ • perspicuity pretic ciiect of Conciseuess, because so many, and to c ' * ' especially young writers and speakers, are apt to fall into a style of pompous verbosity, not from negligence, but from an idea that they are adding both Perspicuity and Force to what is said, when they are only incumbering the sense with a needless load of words. And they are the more likely to commit this mistake, because such a style will often appear not only to the author, but to the vulgar, (i. e, the vulgar in intellect,^ among his hearers, to be very majestic and impressive. It is not uncommon to hear a speaker or writer of this class, mentioned as having a ** very fine com- mand of language," when, perhaps, it might be said with more correctness, that " his language has a command of him ;" i. e. that he follows a train of words rather than of thought Chap. II. § 7. OF ENERGY. 297 and strings together all the striking expressions that occur to him on the subject, instead of first forming a clear notion of the sense he wishes to convey, and then seeking for the most appropriate vehicle in which to convey it. He has but the same command of language that the rider has of a horse which runs away with him. If, indeed, any class of men are found to be the most effectually convinced, persuaded, or instructed, by a turgid amplification, it is the orator's business, true to his object, not to criticise or seek to improve their taste, but to accommodate himself to it. But it will be found that this is not near so often the case as many suppose. The orator may often by this kind of style gain great admiration, without being the nearer to his proper end, which is to carry his point. It will frequently happen that not only the approbation, but the whole attention of the hearers will have been con- fined to the Style, which will have drawn their minds, not to the subject, but from it. In those spurious kinds of oratory, indeed, which have been above mentioned, (p. iii. chap. ii. § 4, 5, 6,) in which the inculcation of the Subject-matter is not the principal object pro- posed, a redundancy of words may often be very suitable ; but in all that comes within the 298 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. legitimate province of Rhetoric, there is no fault to be more carefully avoided.* It will therefore be advisable for a tyro in composition to look over what he has written, and to strike out every word and clause which he finds will leave the passage neither less perspicuous nor less forcible than it was before ; *' quamvis invita receda?tt ;" remembering that, as has been aptly observed, " nobody knows what good things you leave out :" if the general * " By a multiplicity of words the sentiment is not set off and accommodated, but like David, in Saul's armour, it is incumbered and oppressed. " Yet this is not the only, or perhaps the worst conse- quence resulting from this manner of treating Sacred writ :" [^paraphrasing'\ " we are told of the torpedo, that it has the wonderful quality of numbing every thing it touches ; a paraphrase is a torpedo. By its influence the most vivid sentiments become lifeless, the most sublime are flattened, the most fervid chilled, the most vigorous enervated. In the very best compositions of this kind that can be expeted, the Gospel may be compared to a rich wine of a high flavour, diluted in such a quantity of water as renders it extremely vapid." Campbell, Rhetoric, book iii. chap. ii. § 2. It should be observed, however, that to some palates or stomachs a dilution may be necessary. Nor does Dr. Campbell mean, I apprehend, that there are not many passages in Scripture which require expansion with a view to their being fully comprehended by an ordinary reader. But a regular paraphrase generally expands every passage, easy or hard, nearly to the same degree : it applies a magnifying-glass of equal power to the gnat and to the camel. Chap. II. §7. OF ENERGY. 299 effect is improved, that advantage is enjoyed by the reader, unalloyed by the regret which the author may feel at the omission of any thing which he may think in itself excellent. But this is not enough ; he must study con- traction as well as omission. There are many sentences which would not bear the omission of a single word consistently with perspicuity, which yet may be much more con- cisely expressed, with equal clearness, by the employment of different words, and by re- casting a great part of the expression. Take for example such a sentence as the following: " A severe and tyrannical exercise of power must become a matter of necessary policy with Kings, when their subjects are imbued with such principles as justify and authorize re- belHon ;" this sentence could not be advan- tageously, nor to any considerable degree, abridged, by the mere omission of any of the words; but it may be expressed in a much shorter compass, with equal clearness and far greater energy, thus ; " Kings will be tyrants from policy, when subjects are rebels from principle."* The hints I have thrown out on this point coincide pretty nearly with Dr. Campbell's * Burke. 300 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. remark on " Verbosity" as contradistinguished from " Tautology" * and from '' Pleonasm." " The third and last fault I shall mention against vivid Conciseness is Verbosity. This, it may be thought, coincides with the Pleonasm already discussed. One difference however is this ; in the Pleonasm there are words which add nothing to the sense; in the Verbose manner, not only single words, but whole clauses, may have a meaning, and yet it were better to omit them, because what they mean is unimportant. Instead, therefore, of enliven- ing the expression, they make it languish. Another difference is, that in a proper Pleo nasm, a complete correction is always made by razing. This will not always answer in * Tautology, which he describes as " either a repetition of the same sense in different words, or a representation of any thing as the cause, condition, or consequence, of itself," is, in most instances, (of the latter kind at least,) accounted an offence rather against correctness than brevity ; the example he gives from Bolingbroke, " how many are there by whom these tidings of good news were never heard," would usually be reckoned a blunder rather than an instance of prolixity ; like the expression of " Sinecure places which have no duty annexed to them." *' The Pleonasm," he observes, " implies merely superfluity. Though the words do not, as in the Tautology, repeat the sense, they add nothing to it ; e. g. They returned [back again] to the [same] city [from] whence they came [forth.]" Campbell, Rhetoric, book iii. chap. ii. §. 2. Chap. II. § 8. OF ENERGY. . 301 the Verbose style ; it is often necessary to alter as well as blot."* §8. It is of course impossible to lay down pre- [j^'^f™! cise rules as to the degree of Conciseness perfpicuuy. which is, on each occasion that may arise, allowable and desirable ; but to an author who is, in his expression of any sentiment, wavering between the demands of Perspicuity and of Energy, (of which the former of course requires the first care, lest he should fail of both,) and doubting whether the phrase which has the most of forcible brevity, will be readily taken in, it may be recommended to use both expressions ; — first to expand the sense, suffi- ciently to be clearly understood, and then to contract it into the most compendious and striking form. This expedient might seem at first sight the most decidedly adverse to the brevity recommended ; but it will be found in practice, that the addition of a compressed and pithy expression of the sentiment, which has been already stated at greater length, will produce the effect of brevity. For it is to be remembered that it is not on account of the actual number of words that difFuseness is * Campbell, Rhetoric, book iii. chap. ii. §. 2, part iii. 302 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. to be condemned, (unless one were limited to a certain space, or time,) but to avoid the flatness and tediousness resulting from it ; so that if this appearance can be obviated by the insertion of such an abridged repetition as is here recommended, which adds poignancy and spirit to the whole, Conciseness will be, practically, promoted by the addition. The hearers will be struck by the forcibleness of the sentence which they will have been pre- pared to comprehend ; they will understand the longer expression, and remember the shorter. But the force will, in general, be totally destroyed, or much enfeebled, if the order be reversed ; — if the brief expression be put first, and afterwards expanded and ex- plained ; for it loses much of its force if it be not clearly understood the moment it is uttered ; and if it be, there is no need of the subsequent expansion. The sentence recently quoted from Burke, as an instance of Energetic brevity, is in this manner brought in at the close of a more expanded exhibition of the sentiment, as a condensed conclusion of the whole. " Power, of some kind or other, will survive the shock in which manners and opinions perish ; and it will find other and worse means for its support. The usurpation which, in order to subvert ancient institutions. Chap. II. § 8. OF ENERGY. 303 has destroyed ancient principles, will hold power by arts similar to those by which it has acquired it. When the old feudal and chival- rous spirit of fealty, which, by freeing kings from fear, freed both kings and subjects from the precaution of tyranny, shall be extinct in the minds of men, plots and assassinations will be anticipated by preventive murder and pre- ventive confiscation, and that long roll of grim and bloody maxims, which form the political code of all Power, not standing on its own honour, and the honour of those who are to obey it. Kings will be tyrants from policy, when subjects are rebels from principle."* The same writer, in another passage of the same work, has a paragraph in like manner closed and summed up by a striking metaphor, (which will often prove the most concise, as well as in other respects striking, form of expression,) such as would not have been so readily taken in if placed at the beginning. " To avoid, therefore, the evils of inconstancy and versatility, ten thousand times worse than those of obstinacy and the blindest prejudice, we have consecrated the State, that no man should approach to look into its defects or corruptions but with due caution; that he * Burke, Reflections on the Revolution in France, Works, vol. V. p. 153. 304 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. should never dream of beginning its reforma- tion by its subversion ; that he should ap- proach to the faults of the State as to the wounds of a father, with pious awe and trembling solicitude. By this wise prejudice we are taught to look with horror on those children of their country who are prompt rashly to hack that aged parent in pieces, and put him into the kettle of magicians, in hopes that by their poisonous weeds, and wild incan- tations, they may regenerate the paternal constitution, and renovate their father's life."* This, however, being an instance of what may be called the classical Metaphor, no preparation or explanation, even though suffi- cient to make it intelligible, could render it very striking to those not thoroughly and early familiar with the ancient fables of Medea. The Preacher has a considerable resource, of an analogous kind, in similar allusions to the history, descriptions, parables, &c. of SCRIPTURE, which will often furnish useful illustrations and forcible metaphors, in an address to those well acquainted with the Bible ; though these would be frequently * Burke, Reflections on the Revolution in France, Works, vol. V. p. 183. Chap. II. § 8. OF ENERGY. 305 unintelligible, and always comparatively feeble, to persons not familiar with Scripture.* So arreat, indeed, is the effect of a skilful ^tyie of or o ' ' Johnson. interspersion of short, pointed, forcible sen- tences, that even a considerable violation of some of the foregoing rules may be, by this means, in a great degree, concealed; and vigour may thus be communicated (if vigour of thought be not wanting) to a style charge- able even with tautology. This is the case with much of the language of Dr. Johnson, who is certainly on the whole an energetic writer ; though he would have been much more so, had not an over-attention to the roundness and majestic sound of his sentences, and a delight in balancing one clause against another, led him so frequently into a faulty redundancy. Take, as an instance, a passage in his life of Prior, which may be considered as a favourable specimen of his style : " Solo- mon is the work to which he intrusted the protection of his name, and which he expected succeeding ages to regard with veneration. His affection was natural ; it had undoubtedly been written with great labour ; and who is wiUing to think that he has been labouring in vain ? He had infused into it much know- * See Appendix, [H.] X 306 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. ledge, and much thought ; had often polished it to elegance, often dignified it with splendour, and sometimes heightened it to sublimity ; he perceived in it many excellences, and did not discover that it wanted that without which all others are of small avail, the power of engaging attention and alluring curiosity. Tediousness is the most fatal of all faults ; neghgences or errors are single and local; but tediousness pervades the whole ; other faults are censured and forgotten, but the power of tediousness propagates itself. He that is weary the first hour, is more weary the second; as bodies forced into motion contrary to their tendency, pass more and more slowly through every successive interval of space. Unhappily this pernicious failure is that which an author is least able to discover. We are seldom tire- some to ourselves ; and the act of composition fills and delights the mind with change of language and succession of images ; every couplet when produced is new; and novelty is the great source of pleasure. Perhaps no man ever thought a line superfluous when he first wrote it ; or contracted his work till his ebullitions of invention had subsided." It would not have been just to the author, nor even so suitable to the present purpose, to cite less than the whole of this passage, which Chap. II. § 8. OF ENERGY. 307 exhibits the characteristic merits, even more strikingly than the defects, of the writer. Few could be found in the works of Johnson, and still fewer in those of any other writer, more happily and forcibly expressed; yet it can hardly be denied that the parts here distin- guished by italics are chargeable, more or less, with Tautology. It happens, unfortunately, that Johnson's imitation ot Johnson. style is particularly easy of imitation, even by writers utterly destitute of his vigour of thought ; and such imitators are intolerable. They bear the same resemblance to their model, that the armour of the Chinese, as described by travellers, consisting of thick quilted cotton covered with stiff glazed paper, does to that of the ancient knights ; equally glittering, and bulky, but destitute of the temper and firmness which was its sole advan- tage. At first sight, indeed, this kind of style appears far from easy of attainment ; on account of its being remote from the collo- quial, and having an elaborately artificial appearance ; but in reality, there is none less difficult to acquire. To string together sub- stantives, connected by conjunctions, which is the characteristic of Johnson's style, is, in fact, the rudest and clumsiest mode of ex- pressing our thoughts : we have only to find x2 308 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. names for our ideas, and then put them toge- ther by connectives, instead of interweaving, or rather felting them together, by a due admixture of verbs, participles, prepositions, &c. So that this way of writing, as contrasted with the other, may be hkened to the primitive rude carpentry, in which the materials were united by coarse external implements, pins, nails, and cramps, when compared with that art in its most improved state, after the inven- tion of dovetail-joints, grooves, and mortices, when the junctions are effected by forming properly the extremities of the pieces to be joined, so as at once to consolidate and con- ceal the juncture. Various pro- If auy ouc wlll be at the pains to compare portions of ^ c i f> fnd'iffe"lnr ^ ^^^ P^^g^s, taKcn irom almost any part of '*^^^'" Johnson's Works, with the same quantity from any other of our admired writers, noting down the number of substantives in each, he will be struck with the disproportion. This would be still greater, if he were to examine with the same view an equal portion of Cicero ; but it must be acknowledged that the genius of the Latin language allows and requires a much smaller proportion of substantives than are necessary in our own : especially such as express qualities in the abstract. Chap. II. § 9. OF ENERGY. 309 §9. In aiming at a Concise Style, however, care suggestive _ style. must of course be taken that it be not crowded. The frequent recurrence of considerable ellipses, even when obscurity does not result from them, will produce an appearance of affected and laborious compression, which is offensive. The author who is studious of Energetic brevity, should aim at what may be called a Suggestive style ; such, that is, as, without making a distinct, though brief, men- tion of a multitude of particulars, shall put the hearer's mind into the same train of thought as the speaker's, and suggest to him more than is actually expressed. Such a style may be compared to a good map, which marks distinctly the great out- lines, setting down the principal rivers, towns, mountains, &c., leaving the imagination to supply the villages, hillocks, and streamlets ; which, if they were all inserted in their due proportions, would crowd the map, though after all they could not be discerned without a microscope. Aristotle's style, which is frequently so ellip- tical as to be dry and obscure, is yet often, at the very same time, unnecessarily diffuse, from his enumerating much that the reader would 310 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. easily have supplied, if the rest had been fully and forcibly stated. He seems to have re- garded his readers as capable of going along with him readily, in the deepest discussions, but not, of going beyond him, in the most simple ; i. e. of filling up his meaning, and inferring what he does not actually express ; so that in many passages a free translator might convey his sense in a shorter compass, and yet in a less cramped and elliptical diction. A imrticular statement, example, or proverb, of which the general application is obvious, will often save a long abstract rule, which needs much explanation and limitation ; and will thus suggest much that is not actually said ; thus answering the purpose of a mathe- matical diagram, which, though itself an indi- vidual, serves as a representative of a class. Slight hints also respecting the subordinate branches of any subject, and notices of the principles that will apply to them, &c. may often be substituted for digressive discussions, which, though laboriously compressed, would yet occupy a much greater space. Judicious divisions likewise and classifications, save much tedious enumeration ; and, as has been for- merly remarked, a well-chosen epithet may often suggest, and therefore supply the place of, an entire Argument. Chap. II. §10. OF ENERGY. 311 It would not be possible, within a moderate compass, to lay down precise rules for the Suggestive kind of writing I am speaking of: but if the slight hints here given are sufficient to convey an idea of the object to be aimed at, practice will enable a writer gradually to form the habit recommended. It may be worth while, however, to add, that those accustomed to rational conversation, will find in that, a very useful exercise, with a view to this point, (as well as to almost every other connected with Rhetoric ;) since, in conversation, a man natu- rally tries first one and then another mode of expressing his thoughts, and stops as soon as he perceives that his companion fully com- prehends his sentiments, and is sufficiently impressed with them. § 10. I have dwelt the more earnestly on the head of Conciseness, because it is a quality in which young writers (who are the most likely to seek for practical benefit in a Treatise of this kind) are usually most deficient ; and because it is commonly said that, in them, exuberance is a promising sign ; without sufficient care being taken to qualify this remark, by adding, that this over-luxuriance must be checked by judi- 312 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. cious pruning. If an early proneness to redun- dancy be an indication of natural genius, those who possess this genius should be the more sedulously on their guard against that fault. And those who do not, should be admonished that the want of a natural gift cannot be supplied by copying its attendant defects. copiousnesg Xhc praises which have been bestowed on dependent on 1^ precision. Copwusness of diction, have probably tended to mislead authors into a cumbrous verbosity. It should be remembered, that there is no real Copiousness in a multitude of synonymes and circumlocutions. A house would not be the better furnished for being stored with ten times as many of some kinds of articles as were needed, while it was perhaps destitute of those required for other purposes ; nor was Lucullus's wardrobe, which, according to Horace, boasted five thousand mantles, neces- sarily well stocked, if other articles of dress were wanting. The completeness of a library does not consist in the number of volumes, especially if many of them are duplicates ; but in its containing copies of each of the most valuable works. And in like manner true Copiousness of language consists in having at command, as far as possible, a suitable expression for each different modification of thought. This, consequently, will often save Chav. II. § 11. OF ENERGY. 313 much circumlocution ; so that the greater our command of language, the more concisely we shall be enabled to write. In an author who is attentive to these principles, difFuseness may be accounted no dangerous fault of style, because practice will gradually correct it ; but it is otherwise with one who pleases himself in stringing together well-sounding words into an easy, flowing, and (falsely-called) copious style, destitute of nerve; and who is satisfied with a small portion of matter ; seeking to increase, as it were, the appearance of his wealth by hammering out his metal thin. This is far from a curable fault. When the style is fully formed in other respects, pregnant fulness of meaning is seldom superadded ; but when there is a basis of energetic condensation of thought, the faults of harshness, baldness, or even obscurity, are much more likely to be remedied. Solid gold may be new moulded and pohshed ; but what can give solidity to gilding ? §11. Lastly, the Arrangement of words may be Energy de , . pendent oi made highly conducive to Energy. The im- portance of an attention to this point, with a view to Perspicuity, has been already noticed: but of two sentences equally perspicuous, and the arrange- ment. 314 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III, consisting of the very same words, the one may be a feeble and languid, the other a striking and Energetic expression, merely from the difference of Arrangement. Natural order Some, among thc moderns, are accustomed to speak of the Natural order of the words in a sentence, and to consider, each, the esta- blished arrangement of his own language as the nearest to such a natural order ; regarding that which prevails in Latin and in Greek as a sort of deranged and irregular structure. We are apt to consider that as most natural and intrinsically proper, which is the most familiar to ourselves ; but there seems no good ground for asserting, that the customary structure of sentences in the ancient languages is less natural, or less suitable for the purposes for which language is employed, than in the modern. Supposing the estabhshed order in English or in French, for instance, to be more closely conformed to the grammatical or logical analysis of a sentence, than that of Latin or Greek, because we place the Subject first, the Copula next, and the Predicate last, &c. it does not follow that such an arrange- ment is necessarily the best fitted, in every case, to excite the attention, — to direct it to the most essential points, — to gratify the imagination, — or to affect the feelings. It is. Chap. 11. §11. OF ENERGY. 315 surely, the natural object of language to express as strongly as possible the speaker's sentiments, and to convey the same to the hearers ; and that arrangement of words may fairly be accounted the most natural, by which all men are naturally led, as far as the rules of their respective languages allow them, to accomplish this object. The rules of many of the modern languages do indeed frequently confine an author to an order which he would otherwise never have chosen ; but what translator of any taste would ever voluntarily alter the arrangement of the words in such a sentence, as MeyaX,?? r^ "KpreiMCs 'Ecfiealcov, which our language allows us to render ex- actly, " Great is Diana of the Ephesians!" How feeble in comparison is the translation of Le Clerc, '' La Diane des Ephesietts est une grande Diesse V How imperfect that of Beau- sobre, *' La grande Diane des Ephesiens /" How undignified that of Saci, " Vive la grande Diafie des Ephesiens f" Our language indeed is, though to a less Advantage in point of ar- degree, very much hampered by the same [f,e*ineie"n'" restrictions ; it being in general necessary, for ^''"^'"'^'''• the expression of the sense, to adhere to an order which may not be in other respects the most eligible : '^ Cicero praised Caesar," and " Cajsar praised Cicero," would be two very 316 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. different propositions ; the situation of the words being all that indicates, (from our want of Cases,) zvhich is to be taken as the nomi- native, and which as the accusative ; but such a restriction is far from being an advantage. The transposition of words which the ancient languages admit of, conduces, not merely to variety, but to Energy, and even to Precision. If, for instance, a Roman had been directing the attention of his hearers to the circumstance that even Ccesar had been the object of Cicero's praise, he would, most Hkely, have put *'Caesarem" first; but he would have put " Cicero" first, if he had been remarking that not only others, but even he, had praised Casar. It is for want of this liberty of Arrangement that we are often compelled to mark the emphatic words of our sentences by the voice, in speaking, and by italics, in writing ; which would, in Greek or in Latin, be plainly indi- cated, in most instances, by the collocation alone. The sentence which has been often brought forward as an example of the varieties of expression which may be given to the same words, " Will you ride to London to-morrow?" and which may be pronounced and understood in at least five different ways, according as the first, second, &c. of the words is printed in italics, would be, by a Latin or Greek writer. Chap. II. §11. OF ENERGY. 317 arranged in as many different orders, to answer these several intentions. The advantage thus gained must be evident to any one who con- siders how important the object is which is thus accomplished, and for the sake of which we are often compelled to resort to such clumsy expedients; it is like the proper dis- tribution of the lights in a picture ; which is hardly of less consequence than the correct and lively representation of the objects. The 4th book of Q. Curtius begins with a passage which affords a good instance of the energetic effect produced by a skilful use of the licence of the Latin arrangement : *•' Darius tanti modo exercitus rex, qui triumphantis magis quam dimicantis more, curru sublimis inierat prcelium, per loca quae prope immensis agminibus compleverat, jam inania, et ingenti solitudine \asta,fugiebat" The effect of the concluding verb, placed where it is, is most striking. It must be the aim then of an author, who italics and IT • •iT-i -I 1 • -in underscor- would write with Energy, to avail himself of '"s all the liberty which our language does allow, so to arrange his words that there shall be the least possible occasion for underscoring and italics ; and this, of course, must be more carefully attended to by the writer than by the speaker; who may, by his mode of utterance. 318 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. conceal, in great measure, a defect in this point. It may be worth observing, however, that some writers, having been taught that it is a fault of style to require many of the words to be in italics, fancy they avoid the fault, by omitting those indications where they are really needed ; which is no less absurd than to attempt remedying the intricacies of a road by removing the direction posts.* The proper remedy is, to endeavour so to construct the style, that the collocation of the words may, as far as is possible, direct the attention to those which are emphatic. And the general maxim that should chiefly guide us, is, as Dr. Campbell observes, the homely saying, " Nearest the heart, nearest the mouth ;" the idea, which is the most forcibly impressed on the author's mind, will naturally claim the first utterance, as nearly as the rules of the lan- guage will permit. And it will be found that, in a majority of instances, the most Emphatic word will be the Predicate; contrary to the rule which the nature of our language compels * The censure of frequent and long Parentheses also leads some writers into the like preposterous expedient of leaving out the marks ( ) by which they are indicated, and substituting commas ; instead of so framing each sentence that they shall not be needed. It is no cure to a lame man, to take away his crutches. Chap. II. § 11. OF ENERGY. 319 US, in most instances, to observe. It will often happen, however, that we do place the Predi- cate first, and obtain a great increase of Energy by this Arrangement. Of this licence our translators of the Bible have, in many instances, very happily availed themselves ; as, e. g. in the sentence lately cited, " Great is Diana of the Ephesians ;" so also, " Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord :" it is evident how much this would be enfeebled by altering the Arrangement into " He that cometh in the name of the Lord is blessed." And, again, " Silver and Gold have I none ; but what I have, that give I unto thee."* Another passage, in which they might advan- tageously have adhered to the order of the original, is, " "Eirea-ev, eVeo-e Ba/3v\Q)Vj 7} fieydXTj/'f which would certainly have been rendered as correctly, and more forcibly, as well as more closely, " Fallen, fallen is Baby- lon, that great city," than, " Babylon is fallen, is fallen." The word " IT" is frequently very service- use of the ^ •' •' word IT. able in enabling us to alter the Arrangement : thus, the sentence, " Cicero praised Caesar," which admits of at least two modifications of sense, may be altered so as to express either * Acts V. G. f Rev. xviii. 2. 320 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. of them, by thus varying the order : " It was Cicero that praised Caesar/' or, ** It was Csesar that Cicero praised." " IT " is, in this mode of using it, the representative of the Subject, which it thus enables us to place, if we will, after the Predicate. Of whatever gender or number the subject referred to may be, " IT" may, with equal propriety, be employed to represent that subject. Our translators of the Bible have not scrupled to make " IT" refer to a masculine noun : " It is I, be not afraid ;" but they seem to have thought it not allowable, as perhaps it was not, at the time when they wrote, to make such a reference to a plural noun. " Search the Scriptures — they are they which testify of Me :" we should now say, without any impropriety, " IT is they" &c. §12. Periods, With respect to Periods, it would be neither practically useful, nor even suitable to the present object, to enter into an examination of the different senses in which various authors have employed the word. A technical term may allowably be employed, in a scientific work, in any sense not very remote from common usage, (especially when common usage is not uniform and invariable in the Chap. II. § 12. OF ENERGY. 321 meaning affixed to it,) provided it be clearly defined, and the definition strictly adhered to. By a Period, then, is to be understood in this place, any sentence, whether simple or complex, which is so framed that the Gram- matical construction will not admit of a close, before the end of it ; in which, in short, the meaning remains suspended, as it were, till the whole is finished. A loose sentence, on Loose sen- 1 • T-k 1 tences. the contrary, is, any that is not a Period ; — any, whose construction will allow of a stop, so as to form a perfect sentence, at one or more places, before we arrive at the end. E. G. " We came to our journey's end — at last — with no small difficulty — after much fatigue — through deep roads — and bad wea- ther." This is an instance of a very loose sentence ; (for it is evident that this kind of structure admits of degrees,) there being no less than five places, marked by dashes, at any one of which the sentence might have termi- nated, so as to be grammatically perfect. The same words may be formed into a Period, thus : " At last, after much fatigue, through deep roads, and bad weather, we came, with no small difficulty, to our journey's end." Here, no stop can be made at any part, so that the preceding words shall form a sentence before the final close. These are both of them Y 322 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. simple sentences ; L e. not consisting of several clauses, but having only a single verb ; so that it is plain we ought not, according to this view, to confine the name of Period to complex sentences ; as Dr. Campbell has done, not- withstanding his having adopted the same definition as has been here laid down. Periods, or sentences nearly approaching to Periods, have certainly, when other things are equal, the advantage in point of Energy. An unexpected continuation of a sentence which the reader had supposed to be concluded, especially if in reading aloud, he had, under that supposition, dropped his voice, is apt to produce a sensation in the mind of being disagreeably balked ; analogous to the un- pleasant jar which is felt, when in ascending or descending stairs, we meet with a step more than we expected : and if this be often repeated, as in a ve7^i/ loose sentence, a kind of weary impatience results from the uncertainty when the sentence is to close. The objection, however, to loose sentences and consequent tendency towards the periodic structure, must have been greater among the Ancients than the Moderns ; because the variety of arrange- ment which the ancient languages permitted, and, in particular, the hberty of reserving the verb, on which the whole sense depends, to Chap. II. § 12. OF ENERGY. 323 the end, made that structure natural and easy, in many instances in which, in our language, it would appear forced, unnatural, and affected. But the agreeableness of a certain degree, at Tendency *^ , _ ° towards th( least, of Periodic structure, in all languages, S^e is apparent from this ; that they all contain words which may be said to have no other use or signification but to suspend the sense, and lead the hearer of the first part of the sentence to expect the remainder. He who says, " The world is not eternal, nor the work of chance ;" expresses the same sense as if he said, *^' The world is neither eternal, nor the work of chance;" yet the latter would be generally preferred. So also, " The vines afforded both a refreshing shade, and a deli- cious fruit ;" the word '^ both " would be missed, though it adds nothing to the sense. Again, " While all the Pagan nations consider Religion as one part of Virtue, the Jews, on the contrary, regard Virtue as a part of Reli- gion ;"* the omission of the first word would not alter the sense, but would destroy the Period ; to produce which is its only use. The MEN, AE, and TE of the Greek are, in many places, subservient to this use alone. The modern languages do not indeed admit, * Josephus. Y 2 324 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. as was observed above, of so Periodic a Style as the ancient do : but an author, who does but clearly understand what a Period is, and who applies the test I have laid down, will find it very easy, after a little practice, to compose in Periods, even to a greater degree than, in an Enghsh writer, good taste will warrant. His skill and care will be chiefly called for in avoiding all appearance of stiffness and affec- tation in the construction of them, — in not departing, for the sake of a Period, too far from colloquial usage, — and in observing such moderation in the employment of this style, as shall prevent any betrayal of artifice, any thing savouring of elaborate stateliness ; which is always to be regarded as a worse fault than the slovenliness and langour which accompany a very loose style. §13. Loose and It should bc obscrvcd, however, that, as a clauses. scnteuce which is not strictly a Period, accord- ing to the foregoing definition, may yet ap- proach indefinitely near to it, so as to produce nearly the same effect, so, on the other hand, periods may be so constructed as to produce much of the same feeling of weariness and impatience which results from an excess of loose sentences. If the clauses be very long. Chap. II. § 13. OF ENERGY. 325 and contain an enumeration of many circum- stances, though the sentence be so framed, that we are still kept in expectation of the conclusion, yet it will be an impatient expec- tation ; and the reader will feel the same kind of uneasy uncertainty zoheti the clause is to be finished, as would be felt respecting the sen- tence, if it were loose. And this will espe- cially be the case, if the rule formerly given with a view to Perspicuity, be not observed* of taking care that each part of the sentence be understood, as it proceeds. Each clause, if it consist of several parts, should be continued with the same attention to their mutual con- nexion, so as to suspend the sense, as is em- ployed in the whole sentence ; that it may be, as it were, a Periodic clause. And if one clause be long and another short, the shorter should, if possible, be put last. Universally Precedence indeed a sentence will often be, practically, cLu'^se!'" too long, i. e. will have a tedious, dragging effect, merely from its concluding with a much longer clause than it began with ; so that a composition which most would censure as abounding too much in long sentences, may often have its defects, in great measure, reme- died, without shortening any of them ; merely * Part Hi. chap. i. § 3. 326 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. by reversing the order of each. This of course holds good with respect to all complex sen- tences of any considerable length, whether periods, or not. An instance of the difference of effect produced by this means, may be seen in such a sentence as the following : " The State was made, under the pretence of serving it, in reality, the prize of their contention, to each of those opposite parties, who professed in specious terms, the one, a preference for moderate Aristocracy, the other, a desire of admitting the people at large to an equality of civil privileges." This may be regarded as a complete period ; and yet, for the reason just mentioned, has a tedious and cumbrous effect. Many critics might recommend, and perhaps with reason, to break it into two or three ; but it is to our present purpose to remark, that it might be, in some degree at least, decidedly improved, by merely reversing the clauses ; as thus : " The two opposite parties, who professed in specious terms, the one a preference for moderate Aristocracy, the other a desire of admitting the people at large to an equality of civil privileges, made the State, which they pretended to serve, in reality the prize of their contention.* * Thucydides, on the Corcyrean sedition. Chap. II. § 13. OF ENERGY. 327 Another instance may be cited from a work, in which any occasional awkwardness of ex- pression is the more conspicuous, on account of its general excellence, the Church Liturgy ; the style of which is so justly admired for its remarkable union of energy with simplicity, smoothness, and elegance : the following pas- sage from the Exhortation is one of the very few, which, from the fault just noticed, it is difficult for a good reader to deliver with spirit ; " And although we ought at all times humbly to acknowledge our sins before God,|| yet ought we most chiefly so to do,l| when we as semble — and meet together — to render thanks for the great benefits that we have received at his hands, — to set forth his most worthy praise, to hear his most holy word, and to ask those things which are requisite and necessary, — as well for the body as the soul." This is evi- dently a very loose sentence, as it might be supposed to conclude at any one of the three places which are marked by dashes ( — ) ; this disadvantage, however, may easily be obviated by the suspension of voice, by which a good reader, acquainted with the passage, would indicate that the sentence was not concluded ; but the great fault is the length of the last of the three principal clauses, in comparison of the former two, — (the conclusions of which are 328 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. markedll); by which a dragging and heavy effect is produced, and the sentence is made to appear longer than it really is. This would be more manifest to any one not familiar, as most are, with the passage ; but a good reader of the Liturgy will find hardly any sentence in it so difficult to deliver to his own satis- faction. It is perhaps the more profitable to notice a blemish occurring in a composition so well known, and so deservedly valued for the excellence, not only of its sentiments, but of its language. It is a useful admonition to young writers, with a view to what has lately been said, that they should always attempt to recast a sen- tence which does not please ; altering the arrangement and entire construction of it, instead of merely seeking to change one word for another. This will give a great advantage in point of Copiousness also ; for there may be, suppose, a substantive, which, either because it does not fully express our meaning, or for some other reason, we wish to remove, but can find no other to supply its place ; but the object may perhaps be easily accomplished by means of a verb, adverb, or some other part of speech, the substitution of which implies an alteration of the construction. It is an exer- cise accordingly which may be recommended Chap. II. ^ 13. OF ENERGY. 329 as highly conducive to the improvement of Style, to practise casting a sentence into a variety of different forms. It is evident, from what has been said, that Difference of structure for in compositions intended to be delivered, the ^J^^^^^^e" Periodic style is much less necessary, and '^'''''''''' therefore much less suitable, than in those designed for the closet. The speaker may, in most instances, by the skilful suspension of his voice, give to a loose sentence the effect of a Period : and though, in both species of com- position the display of art is to be guarded against, a more unstudied air is looked for in such as are spoken. The study of the best Greek and Latin writers may be of great advantage towards the improvement of the Style in the point con- cerning which I have now been treating, (for the reason lately mentioned,) as well as in most others : and there is this additional advantage, (which, at first sight, might appear a disadvantage,) that the style of a foreign writer cannot be so closely imitated as that of one in our own language : for this reason there will be the less danger of falling into an obvious and servile imitation.* • Bolingbroke may be noted as one of the most Periodic of English writers ; Swift and Addison (though in other respects very different from each other) are among the most loose. 330 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. §14. Antithesis. Aiitithesis has been sometimes reckoned as one form of the Period ; but it is evident that, according to the view here taken, it has no necessary connection with it. One clause may be opposed to another, by means of some contrast between corresponding words in each, whether or not the clauses be so connected that the former could not, by itself, be a com- plete sentence. Tacitus, who is one of the most Antithetical, is at the same time one of the least Periodic, of all the Latin writers. There can be no doubt that this figure is calculated to add greatly to Energy, Every thing is rendered more striking by contrast ; and almost every kind of subject-matter affords materials for contrasted expressions. Truth is opposed to error ; wise conduct to foolish ; different causes often produce opposite effects ; different circumstances dictate to prudence opposite conduct ; opposite impressions may be made by the same object, on different minds; and every extreme is opposed both to the Mean, and to the other extreme. If, therefore, the language be so constructed as to contrast together these opposites, they throw light on each other by a kind of mutual reflexion, and the view thus presented will be Chap. II. §14. OF ENERGY. 331 the more striking. By this means also we may obtain, consistently with Perspicuity, a much greater degree of conciseness ; which in itself is so conducive to Energy ; e. g. " When Reason is against a man, he will be against Reason ;" * it would be hardly possible to express this sentiment not Antithetically, so as to be clearly inteUigible, except in a much longer sentence. Again, " Words are the Counters of wise men, and the Money of fools ;" * here we have an instance of the combined effect of Antithesis and Metaphor in producing increased Energy, both directly, and at the same time, (by the Conciseness resulting from them,) indirectly ; and accord- ingly in such pointed and pithy expressions, we obtain the gratification which, as Aristotle remarks, results from "the act of lemming quickly and easily." The Antithetical expres- sion, ** Party is the madness of many, for the gain of a few," affords an instance of this con- struction in a sentence which does not contain two distinct clauses. Frequently the same words, placed in different relations with each other, will stand in contrast to themselves ; as in the expression, " A fool with judges ; among fools, a judge ;"f and in that given by Quinc- tilian, ** non ut edam vim, sed tit vivam edo ;" * Hobbes. -{■ Cowper. 332 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. " I do not live to eat, but eat to live ;" again, " Persecution is not wrong because it is cruel ; but it is cruel because it is wrong :"* and again, in the beautiful lines, from the Arabic, by Sir W. Jones : On Parent knees, a naked new-born child "Weeping thou sat'st while all around thee smil'd ; So live, that sinking on thy last long sleep, Thou then may'st smile, while all around thee weep. All of these are instances also of perfect Anti- thesis, without Period ; for each of these sentences might, grammatically, be concluded in the middle. So also, *' It is [indeed] a just maxim, that honesty is the best pohcy ; but he who is governed by that maxim is not an honest man." This antithetical sentence is or is not a Period, according as the word " indeed " is inserted or omitted. Of the same kind is an expression in a Speech of Mr. Wyndham's, " Some contend that I disapprove of this plan, because it is not my own ; it would be more correct to say, that it is not my own, because I disapprove it."f The use of Antithesis has been censured by some, as if it were a paltry and affected decoration, unsuitable to a chaste, natural and * Romish Errors, chap. v. § 3. •f Great pointedness and force is added to the argument from contraries (part i. chap. ii. § 6,) by tKe antithetical form of expression. See note to part iv. chap. iv. § 1. Chap. II. § 14. OF ENERGY. 333 masculine style. Pope, accordingly, himself one of the most antithetical of our writers, speaks of it, in the Dunciad, with contempt : I see a Chief, who leads my chosen sons, All arm'd with Points, Antitheses, and Puns. The excess, indeed, of this style, by betraying caution •^ ' .' o against artifice, effectually destroys Energy ; and draws Shlsis. off the attention, even oi those yiho oxe pleased with effeminate glitter, from the matter, to the style. But, as Dr. Campbell observes, " the excess itself into which some writers have fallen, is an evidence of its value — of the lustre and emphasis which Antithesis is calculated to give to the expression. There is no risk of intemperance in using a liquor which has neither spirit nor flavour.'* It is, of course, impossible to lay down precise rules for determining, what will amount to excess, in the use of this, or of any other figure : the great safeguard will be the for- mation of a pure taste, by the study of the most chaste writers, and unsparing self-correction. But one rule always to be observed in respect to the antithetical construction, is to remember that in a true Antithesis the opposition is always in the ideas expressed. Some writers abound with a kind of mock-antithesis, in which the same, or nearly the same sentiment which is expressed by the first clause, is 334 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. repeated in a second ; or at least, in which there is but little of real contrast between the clauses which are expressed in a con- trasted form. This kind of style not only produces disgust instead of pleasure, when once the artifice is detected, which it soon must be, but also, instead of the brevity and vigour resulting from true Antithesis, labours under the fault of prolixity and heaviness. Sentences which might have been expressed as simple ones, are expanded into complex, by the addition of clauses, which add little or nothing to the sense ; and which have been compared to the false handles and keyholes with which furniture is decorated, that serve no other purpose than to correspond to the real ones. Much of Dr. Johnson's writing is chargeable with this fault. Bacon, in his Rhetoric, furnishes, in his common-places, (i, e. heads of Arguments, pro and contra, on a variety of subjects,) some admirable specimens of compressed and striking Antitheses ; many of which are worthy of being enrolled among the most approved proverbs ; e. g. " He who dreads new remedies, must abide old evils." " Since things alter for the worse spontaneously, if they be not altered for the better designedly, what end will there be of the evil ?" " The humblest of the virtues Chap. II. § 14. OF ENERGY. 335 the vulgar praise, the middle ones they admire, of the highest they have no perception :" &c. It will not unfrequently happen that an An- Antithesis . without tithesis may be even more happily expressed period. by the sacrifice of the Period, if the clauses are by this means made of a more convenient length, and a resting-place provided at the most suitable point : e. g. " The persecutions undergone by the Apostles, furnished both a trial to their faith, and a confirmation to our's : — a trial to them, because if human honours and rewards had attended them, they could not, even themselves, have been certain that these were not their object ; and a confirmation to us, because they would not have encountered such sufferings in the cause of imposture." If this sentence were not broken as it is, but compacted into a Period, it would have more heaviness of effect, though it would be rather shorter : e. g. " The persecutions undergone by the Apostles, furnished both a trial of their faith, since if human honours, &c. Sec. and also a confirmation of ours, because," &c. Universally, indeed, a complex sentence, whether Antithetical or not, will often have a degree of spirit and liveliness from the latter clause being made to turn back, as it were, upon the former, by containing or referring to, some word that had there been mentioned : Interroga- tion. 336 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. e. g. " The introducers of the now-established principles of Political-economy may fairly be considered to have made a great discovery; a discovery the more creditable, from the circum- stance that the facts on which it was founded had long been well-known to all." This kind of style also may, as well as the Antithetical, prove offensive if carried to such an excess as to produce an appearance of affectation or mannerism. §15. Lastly, to the Speaker especially, the occa- sional employment of the Interrogative form, will often prove serviceable with a view to Energy. It calls the hearer's attention more forcibly to some important point, by a personal appeal to each individual, either to assent to what is urged, or to frame a reasonable objec- tion ; and it often carries with it an air of triumphant defiance of an opponent to refute the argument if he can. Either the Premiss* or the Conclusion, or both, of any argument, may be stated in this form ; but it is evident, that if it be introduced too frequently, it will necessarily fail of the object of directing a * The interrogative form is particularly suitable to the minor premiss of a Dilemma, because that does not cate- gorically assert, but leaves an opponent his choice of several alternatives. See Logic, Supp. to part iii. § 5. Chap. III. § 1. OF ELEGANCE. 337 particular attention to the most important points. To attempt to make every thing emphatic, is to make nothing emphatic. The utihty, however, of this figure, to the Orator at least, is sufficiently established by the single consideration, that it abounds in the Speeches of Demosthenes. Chap. III. — Of Elegance. § 1- On the last quality of Style to be noticed, Elegance or Beauty, it is the less necessary to enlarge, both because the most appropriate and characteristic excellence of the class of compositions here treated of, is, that Energy of which I have been speaking, and also, because many of the rules laid down under that head, are equally applicable with a view to Elegance. The same Choice, Number, and Arrangement of words, will, for the most part, conduce both to Enersry and to Beauty. The Elegance and *-'•' •' Energy not two qualities, however, are by no means "'^ '^™^' undistinguishable : a Metaphor, for instance, may be apt, and striking, and consequently conducive to Energy of expression, even though the new image, introduced by it, have no intrinsic beauty, or be even unpleasant; z 338 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. in which case it would be at variance with Elegance, or at least would not conduce to it. Elegance requires that all homely and coarse • words and phrases should be avoided, even at the expense of circumlocution ; though they may be the most apt and forcible that lan- guage can supply. And elegance implies a smooth and easy flow of words in respect of the sound of the sentences ; though a more harsh and abrupt mode of expression may often be, at least, equally energetic. Accordingly, many are generally acknow- ledged to be forcible writers, to whom no one would give the credit of Elegance ; and many others, who are allowed to be elegant, are yet by no means reckoned among the vigorous and energetic. §2. Preference of Wheu the two excclleuces of Style are at Energy. •' variance, the general rule to be observed by the orator is to prefer the energetic to the elegant. Sometimes, indeed, a plain, or even a somewhat homely expression, may have even a more energetic effect, from that very circum- stance, than one of more studied refinement ; since it may convey the idea of the speaker's being thoroughly in earnest, and anxious to Chap. III. § 2. OF ELEGANCE. 339 convey his sentiments, where he uses an expression that can have no other recom- mendation ; whereas a strikingly elegant ex- pression may sometimes convey a suspicion that it was introduced foi^ the sake of its Elegance ; which will greatly diminish the force of what is said. The appearance of a too uniform elegance or statehness of style, is apt to cloy ; like a piece of music without any discords. Universally, a writer or speaker should endeavour to maintain the appearance of expressing himself, not, as if he wanted to say somethingy but as if he had something to say : i. e. not as if he had a subject set him, and was anxious to compose the best essay or declamation on it that he could ; but as if he had some ideas to which he was anxious to give utterance ; — not as if he wanted to com- pose (for instance) a sermon, and was desirous of performing that task satisfactorily, but as if there was something in his mind which he was desirous of communicating to his hearers. It is an admonition which probably will give offence to some, and excite the scorn of others, but which I cannot but think may sometimes prove useful to a young preacher, that he should ask himself, at the beginning, z2 340 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. and in the course, of his composition, "for what purpose am I going to preach ? Wherein would any one be a loser if I were to keep silence ? Is it likely that any one will learn something he was ignorant of, or be reminded forcibly of something he had forgotten, or that something he was familiar with shall be set before him in a new and striking point of view, or that some difficulty will have been explained, or some confused ideas rendered clear ; or, in short, that I shall at all have edified any one? Let it not be said, that I preached because there was to be a Sermon, and concluded when I had said enough to — occupy the requisite time ; careful only to avoid any thing that could excite censure, and content to leave the hearers just as I found them. Let me not be satisfied with the thousandth iteration of common-places, on the ground that it is all very true, and that it is the fault of the congregation if they do not believe and practise it ; for all this is equally the case, whether I preach or not ; and if all I say is what they not only knew before, but had heard in the same trite and general state- ments an hundred times before, I might as well hold my peace. I ought not to be con- sidering merely whether these arguments — motives — doctrines, &c. are themselves likely Chap. III. §2. OF ELEGANCE. 341 to produce an effect ; but whether my urging them will be likely to make any difference as to the effect. Am I then about to preach merely because I want to say something, or because I have something to say ?" It is true, a man cannot expect constant success in his endeavours ; but he is not very likely to succeed in any thing that is not even the object of his endeavours.* This speaking as if one had something to say, is probably what Bp. Butler means by the expression of a man's writing " with sim- plicity and in earnest." His manner has this advantage, though it is not only inelegant, but often obscure : Dr. Paley's is equally earnest, and very perspicuous ; and though often homely, is more impressive than that of many of our most polished writers. It is easy to discern the prevalence of these two different manners in different authors, respectively, and to perceive the very different effects produced by them ; it is not so easy for one who is not really writing " with simplicity and in earnest," to assume the appearance of it.f But cer- tainly nothing is more adverse to this appear- * See Note, part iii. chap. i. § 5. ■f" This may be one reason why an Author's notes are often more spirited and more interesting than the rest of his work. 342 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. ance than over-refinement. Any expression indeed that is vulgar, in bad taste, and unsuit- able to the dignity of the subject, or of the occasion, is to be avoided ; since, though it might havcj with some hearers, an Energetic effect, this would be more than counter- balanced by the disgust produced in others ; and where a small accession of Energy is to be gained at the expense of a great sacrifice of Elegance, the latter will demand a prefer- ence. But still, the general rule is not to be lost sight of by him who is in earnest aiming at the true ultimate end of the orator, to which all others are to be made subservient ; viz. not the amusement of his hearers, nor their admiration of himself, but their Convic- tion or Persuasion. It is from this view of the subject that I have dwelt most on that quality of style which seems most especially adapted to that object. Perspicuity is required in all compositions ; and may even be considered as the ultimate end of a Scientific writer, considered as such. He may indeed practically increase his utility by writing so as to excite curiosity, and re- commend his subject to general attention ; but in doing so, he is, in some degree, super- adding the office of the Orator to his own ; as a Philosopher, he may assume the existence Chap. III. § 3. OF ELEGANCE. 343 in his reader of a desire for knowledge, and has only to convey that knowledge in language that may be clearly understood. Of the style of the Orator, (in the wide sense in which I have been using this appellation, as including all who are aiming at Conviction,) the appro- priate object is to impress the meaning strongly upon men's minds. Of the Poet, again, as such,* the ultimate end is to give pleasure; and accordingly Elegance or Beauty (in the most extensive sense of those terms) will be the appropriate qualities of his language. §3. Some indeed have contended, that to give Beamy of ■t 1 • 1 r> T» Style the ap- pleasure is not the ultimate end of Poetry :t p™p"ate 1 ./ ' I character of not distinguishing between the object which t!on""'*^ '^''" the Poet may have in view, as a man, and that which is the object of Poetry, as Poetry. Many, no doubt, may have proposed to them- selves the far more important object of pro- ducing moral improvement in their hearers through the medium of Poetry ; and so have others, the inculcation of their own political or philosophical tenets, or, (as is supposed in the case of the Georgics,) the encouragement * See Dr. Coplestone's Lectures on Poetry. •f Supported in some degree by the authority of Horace : Aut prodessc volant, aut ddectarc Poetce. 344 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. of Agriculture. But if the views of the indivi- dual are to be taken into account, it should be considered that the personal fame or emolu- ment of the author is very frequently his ultimate object. The true test is easily applied : that which to competent judges affords the appropriate pleasure of Poetry, is good poetry, whether it answer any other purpose or not; that which does not afford this pleasure, however instructive it may be, is not good Poetry, though it may be a valuable work. Poetry not It mav bc doubtcd, however, how far these constituted ' thoughy.^" remarks apply to the question respecting Beauty of style ; since the chief gratification afforded by Poetry arises, it may be said, from the beauty of the thoughts. And undoubtedly if these be mean and common-place, the Poetry will be worth little ; but still, it is not any quality of the thoughts that constitutes Poetry. Notwithstanding all that has been advanced by some French critics,* to prove that a work, not in metre, may be a Poem, (which doctrine was partly derived from a misinterpretation of a passage in Aristotle's Poetics,^) universal opinion has always given * See Preface to Telemaque. \ '^iKoi \6yoi has been erroneously interpreted language without metre, in a passage where it certainly means metre CuAP. III. § 3. OF ELEGANCE. 345 a contrary decision. Any composition in verse, (and none that is not,) is always called, whether good or bad, a Poem, by all who have no favourite hypothesis to maintain. It is indeed a common figure of speech to say, in speaking of any work that is deficient in the qualities which Poetry ought to exhibit, that it is not a Poem ; just as we say of one who wants the characteristic excellences of the species, or the sex, that he is not a man .•* and thus some have been led to confound together the appropriate excellence of the thing in ques- tion, with its essence ;f but the use of such an expression as, an *' indifferent" or "a dull Poem," shews plainly that the title of Poetry does not n ecessarily imply ihereo^hiieBeauties of Poetry. without music ; or, as he calls it in another passage of the same work, xpikofxerpia. * " I dare do all that may become a man ; Who dares do more, is none." — Macbeth. ■f It is perhaps hardly necessary to remark that I do not mean to employ the word " essential " in a sense which it sometimes bears, viz. important. The essential circum- stance in " Fresco-painting" is that the colours are laid on wet plaister ; in an " oil painting," that they shall have been mixed in oils ; in an " etching," that aqua fortis shall have been employed ; &c. But no one would be under- stood to rhean by this, that these circumstances are of more consequence (and in that sense more essential) than the display of the artist's genius. So, in the present case, the beauty of the thoughts is a more important and, in that sense, a more essential circumstance, than metre. 346 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. Distinction Poetrv Is not distinguished from Prose by of poetry and ^ O J *'°'*' superior Beauty of thought or of expression, but is a distinct kind of composition ; * and they produce, when each is excellent in its kind, distinct kinds of pleasure. Try the ex- periment, of merely breaking up the metrical structure of a fine Poem, and you will find it inflated and bombastic Prose : f remove this defect by altering the words and the arrange- ment, and it will be better Prose than before ; then, arrange this again into metre, without any other change, and it will be ta7ne and dull Poetry ; but still it will be Poetry, as is indi- cated by the very censure it will incur ; for if it were not, there would be no fault to be found with it ; since, while it remained Prose, * I wish it to be observed, that I am not defending or seeking to introduce any unusual or new sense of the word Poetry ; but, on the contrary, explaining and vindicating that which is the most customary among all men who have no particular theory to support. The mass of mankind often need, indeed, to have the meaning of a word (i. e. their own meaning) explained and developed; but not to have it determined what it shall mean, since that is deter- mined by their use ; the true sense of each word being, that which is understood by it. f Hence the impropriety of the practice, by no means uncommon, of learning a language from its poetry. It is like learning Botany in a Jlower-garden ; which is filled with what are, to the Botanist's eye, beautiful monsters ; — every variety of curious and ornamental deviation from the simple forms. Chap. III. § 3. OF ELEGANCE. 347 it was (as we have supposed) unexceptionable. The circumstance that the same Style which was even required in one kind of composition, proved offensive in the other, shews that a different kind of language is suitable for a composition in metre. Another indication of the essential difference Poetry not translatable. between the two kinds of composition, and of the superior importance of the expression in Poetry, is, that a good translation of a Poem, (though, perhaps, strictly speaking, what is so called is rather an imitation*) is read by one well-acquainted with the original, with equal or even superior pleasure to that which it affords to one ignorant of that original ; whereas the best translation of a Prose-work, (at least of one not principally valued for beauty of style,) will seldom be read by one familiar with the original. And for the same reason, a fine passage of Poetry will be repe- rused, with unabated pleasure, for the twentieth time, even by one who knows it by heart.f * And accordingly it should be observed, that, as all admit, none but a poet can be qualified to translate a poem. -j- Hence it is that the want of complete Perspicuity (such i. e. as puts the reader instantly in possession of the whole sense) is a far less fault in Poetry than in Prose. For Poetry, if it be worth reading at all, is worth reading over and over ; which it ivill be, if it be sufficiently intelligible, on a first perusal, to excite vivid and pleasing emotions. 348 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. According to the views here taken, good Poetry might be defined, '* Elegant and deco- rated language, in metre, expressing such and such thoughts :" and good Prose-composition, " such and such thoughts expressed in good language :" that which is primary in each, being subordinate in the other. . §4. t'^e^in^role What has been said may be illustrated as Walking aid fullv, uot as It might be, but as is suitable to Dancing, •' '-' sSg.^^"'^ the present occasion, by the following passages from Dr. A. Smith's admirable fragment of an Essay on the Imitative Arts : " Were I to attempt to discriminate between Dancing and any other kind of movement, I should observe, that though in performing any ordinary action, — in walking, for example, across the room, a person may manifest both grace and agility, yet if he betrays the least intention of shewing either, he is sure of offending more or less, and we never fail to accuse him of some degree of vanity and affectation. In the performance of any such ordinary action, every one wishes to appear to be solely occupied about the proper purpose of the action ; if he means to shew either grace or agility, he is careful to conceal that meaning ; and in proportion as he betrays it, which he almost always does, he Chap. III. § 4. OF ELEGANCE. 349 offends. In Dancing, on the contrary, every one professes and avows, as it were, the intention of displaying some degree either of grace or of agiHty, or of both. The display of one or other, or both of these qualities, is, in reality, the proper purpose of the action ; and there can never be any disagreeable vanity or affectation in following out the proper purpose of any action. When we say of any particular person, that he gives himself many affected airs and graces in Dancing, we mean either that he exhibits airs and graces unsuitable to the nature of the Dance, or that he exaggerates those which are suitable. Every Dance is, in reality, a succession of airs and graces of some kind or other, which, if I may say so, profess themselves to be such. The steps, gestures, and motions which, as it were, avow the intention of exhibiting d, succession of such airs and graces, are the steps, gestures, and motions which are peculiar to Dancing. * * * The distinction between the sounds or tones of Singing, and those of Speaking, seems to be of the same kind with that between the step, &c. of Dancing, and those of any other ordinary action. Though in Speaking a person may shew a very agreeable tone of voice, yet if he seems to intend to shew it, — if he appears to listen to the sound of his own voice, and as 350 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. it were to tune it into a pleasing modulation, he never fails to offend, as guilty of a most disagreeable affectation. In Speaking, as in every other ordinary action, we expect and require that the speaker should attend only to the proper purpose of the action, — the clear and distinct expression of what he has to say. In Singing, on the contrary, every one pro- fesses the intention to please by the tone and cadence of his voice ; and he not only appears to be guilty of no disagreeable affectation in doing so, but we expect and require that he should do so. To please by the Choice and Arrangement of agreeable sounds, is the proper purpose of all music, vocal as well as instru- mental ; and we always expect that every one should attend to the proper purpose of what- ever action he is performing. A person may appear to sing, as well as to dance, affectedly; he may endeavour to please by sounds and tones which are unsuitable to the nature of the song, or he may dwell too much on those which are suitable to it. The disagreeable affectation appears to consist always, not in attempting to please by a proper, but by some improper modulation of the voice." It is only necessary to add, (what seems evidently to have been in the author's mind, though the Dissertation is left unfinished,) that Poetry has Chap. III. §4. OF ELEGANCE. 351 the same relation to Prose, as Dancing to Walking, and Singing to Speaking ; and that what has been said of them, will apply exactly, mutatis mutandis, to the other. It is needless to state this at length ; as any one, by going over the passages just cited, merely substituting for " Singing," ;'' Poetry," — for *' Speaking," " Prose," — for '' Voice," ** Language," &c. will at once perceive the coincidence.* What has been said will not be thought an unnecessary digression, by any one who con- sider* (not to mention the direct application of Dr. Smith's remarks, to Elocution) the im- portant principle thus established in respect of the decorations of style : viz. that though it is possible for a poetical style to be affectedly and offensively ornamented, yet the same degree and kind of decoration which is not only allowed, but required, in Verse, would in Prose be disgusting ; and that the appearance of attention to the Beauty of the expression, and to the Arrangement of the words, which in Verse is essential, is to be carefully avoided in Prose. * This probably was in Aristotle's mind when he reckoned Poetry among the imitative arts ; viz. that it is imitative of Prose-composition, in the same manner as Singing, of ordinary Speaking ; and Dancing, of ordinary action. writing, 352 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part III. Eieganceof And sliice, as Dr. Smith observes, "such style in beThought" ^ design, when it exists, is almost always be- theact"o1- trayed ;" the safest rule is, never, during the act of composition, to study Elegance, or think about it at all. Let an author study the best models — mark their beauties of style, and dwell upon them, that he may insensibly catch the habit of expressing himself v/ith Elegance ; and when he has completed any composition, he may revise it, and cautiously alter any passage that is awkward and harsh, as well as those that are feeble and obscure : but let him never, while writing, think of any beauties of style ; but content himself with such as may occur spontaneously. He should carefully study Perspicuity as he goes along ; he may also, though more cautiously, aim, in like manner, at Energy ; but if he is endeavouring after Elegance, he will hardly fail to betray that endeavour ; and in proportion as he does this, he will be so far from giving pleasure, to good judges, that he will offend more than by the rudest simplicity. PART IV. OF ELOCUTION. Chap. I. — General Considerations relative to Elocution. §1- On the importance of this branch, it is hardly necessary to offer any remark. Few need to be told that the effect of the most per- fect composition may be entirely destroyed, even by a Delivery which does not render it un- intelligible ; — that one, which is inferior both in matter and style, may produce, if better spoken, a more powerful effect than another which surpasses it in both those points ; and that even such an Elocution as does not spoil the effect of what is said, may yet fall far short of doing full justice to it. " What would you have said," observed iEschines, when his re- cital of his great rival's celebrated Speech on the Crown was received with a burst of admi- ration,— '■' what would you have said, had you heard him speak it ?" A A 354 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. The subject is far from having failed to en- gage attention : of the prevailing deficiency of this, more than of any other qualification of a perfect Orator, many have complained ; and several have laboured to remove it : but it may safely be asserted, that their endeavours have been, at the very best, entirely unsuc- cessful. Probably not a single instance could be found of any one who has attained, by the study of any system of instruction that has appeared, a really good Delivery ; but there are many, probably nearly as many as have fully tried the experiment, who have by this means been totally spoiled ; — who have fallen irrecoverably into an affected style of spouting, worse, in all respects, than their original mode of Delivery. Many accordingly have, not unreasonably, conceived a disgust for the subject altogether ; considering it hopeless that Elocution should be taught by any rules ; and acquiescing in the conclusion that it is to be regarded as entirely a gift of nature, or an accidental acquirement of practice. It is to counteract the prejudice which may result from these feelings, that I profess in the outset a dissent from the principles generally adopted, and lay claim to some degree of originahty in my own. Novelty affords at least an opening for hope ; and the only Chap. 1. § 2, 3, OF ELOCUTION. 355 opening, when former attempts have met with total failure. §2. The requisites of Elocution correspond in Requisites of Elocution. great measure with those of Style : Correct Enimciation, in opposition both to indistinct utterance, and to vulgar and dialectic pronun- ciation, may be considered as answering to Purity, Grammatical Propriety, and absence of Obsolete or otherwise Unintelligible words. These qualities, of Style, and of Elocution, being equally required in common conversa- tion, do not properly fall within the province of Rhetoric. The three qualities, again, which have been treated of, under the head of Style, viz. Perspicuity, Energy, and Elegance, may be regarded as equally requisites of Elocution ; which, in order to be perfect, must convey the meaning clearly, forcibly, and agreeably. §3. Before, however, I enter upon any separate Reading and ^ •' *■ Speaking. examination of these requisites, it will be necessary to premise a few remarks on the distinction between the two branches of Deli- very, viz. Reading aloud, and Speaking. The A a2 356 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. object of correct Reading is, to convey to the hearers, through the medium of the ear, what is conveyed to the reader by the eye ; — to put them in the same situation with him who has the book before him ; — to exhibit to them, in short, by the voice, not only each word, but also all the stops, paragraphs, italic characters, notes of interrogation, &c.* which his sight presents to him. His voice seems to indicate * It may be said, indeed, that even tolerable Reading aloud, supplies more than is exhibited by a book to the eye ; since though italics, e. g. indicate which word is to receive the emphasis, they do not point out the tone in which it is to be pronounced ; which may be essential to the right understanding of the sentence ; e. g. in such a sentence as in Genesis i. " God said, Let there be light ; and there was light :" here we can indicate indeed to the eye that the stress is to be upon " was ;" but it may be pronounced in different tones ; one of which would alter the sense, by implying that there was light already. This is true indeed ; and it is also true, that the very words themselves are not always presented to the eye with the same distinctions as are to be conveyed to the ear ; as, e. g. " abuse," " refuse," " project," and many others, are pro- nounced differently, as nouns and as verbs. This ambi- guity, however, in our written signs, as well as the other, relative to the emphatic words, are imperfections which will not mislead a moderately practised reader. My mean- ing, in saying that such Reading as I am speaking of puts the hearers in the same situation as if the book were before them, is to be understood on the supposition of their being able not only to read, but to read so as to take in the full sense of what is written. Chap. I. § 3. OF ELOCUTION. 357 to them, '' thus and thus it is written in the book or manuscript before me." Impressive reading superadds to this, some degree of adaptation of the tones of voice to the cha- racter of the subject, and of the style. What is usually termed Jine Reading seems to convey, in addition to these, a kind of admo- nition to the hearers respecting the feelings which the composition ought to excite in them : it appears to say, " this deserves your admiration; — this is sublime; — this is pathetic, &c." But Speaking, i. e. natural speaking, when the Speaker is uttering his own sentiments, and is thinking exclusively of them, has something in it distinct from all this : it conveys, by the sounds which reach the ear, the idea, that what is said is the effusion of the Speaker's own mind, which he is desirous of imparting to others. A decisive proof of which is, that if any one overhears the voice of another, to whom he is an utter stranger — suppose in the next room — without being able to catch the sense of what is said, he will hardly ever be for a moment at a loss to decide whether he is Reading or Speaking ; and this, though the hearer may not be one who has ever paid any critical attention to the various modulations of the human voice. So wide is the difference of the tones employed Attention connected 358 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. on these two occasions, be the subject what it may.* The difference of effect produced is propor- pathy^^ tionably great : the personal sympathy felt towards one who appears to be delivering his own sentiments is such, that it usually rivets the attention, even involuntarily, though to a discourse which appears hardly worthy of it. It is not easy for an auditor to fall asleep while he is hearing even perhaps feeble reasoning, clothed in indifferent language, delivered ex- temporaneously, and in an unaffected style ; whereas it is common for men to find a diffi- culty in keeping themselves awake, while lis- tening even to a good dissertation, of the * " At every sentence let them ask themselves this question ; How should I utter this, were I Speaking it as my own immediate sentiments 1 — I have often tried an experiment to shew the great difference between these two modes of utterance, the natural and the artificial ; which was, that when I found a person of vivacity delivering his sentiments with energy, and of course with all that variety of tones which nature furnishes, I have taken occasion to put something into his hand to read, as relative to the topic of conversation ; and it was surprising to see what an immediate change there was in his Delivery, from the moment he began to read. A different pitch of voice took place of his natural one, and a tedious uniformity of cadence succeeded to a spirited variety ; insomuch that a blind man could hardly conceive the person who read to be the same who had just been speaking." Sheridan, Art of Reading. Chap. I, § 3. OF ELOCUTION. 359 same length, or even shorter, on a subject, not uninteresting to them, when read, though with Propriety, and not in a languid manner. And the thoughts, even of those not disposed to be drowsy, are apt to wander, unless they use an effort from time to time to prevent it ; while, on the other hand, it is notoriously difficult to withdraw our attention, even from a trifling talker of whom we are weary, and to occupy the mind with reflections of its own. Of the two branches of Elocution which have been just mentioned, it might at first sight appear as if one only, that of the Speaker, came under the province of Rhetoric. But it will be evident, on consideration, that both must be, to a certain extent, regarded as con- nected with our present subject ; not merely because many of the same principles are ap- plicable to both, but because any one who delivers (as is so commonly the case) a written composition of his own, may be reckoned as belonging to either class ; as a Reader who is the author of what he reads, or as a Speaker who supplies the deficiency of his memory by writing. And again, in the (less common) case where a Speaker is delivering without book, and from memory alone, a written com- position, either his own or another's, though 360 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. this cannot in strictness be called Reading, yet the tone of it will be very likely to re- semble that of Reading. In the other case, — that where the author is actually reading his own composition, he will be still more likely, notwithstanding its being his own, to approach in the Delivery of it to the Elocution of a Reader ; and, on the other hand, it is possible for him, even without actually deceiving the hearers into the belief that he is speaking extempore, to approach indefinitely near to tnat style. The difficulty however of doing this to one who has the writing actually before him, is considerable; and it is of course far greater when the compositon is not his own. And as it is evident from what has been said, that this (as it may be called) Extemporaneous style of Elocution, is much the more impres- sive, it becomes an interesting inquiry, how the difficulty in question may be best sur- mounted. §4. Artificial Little, if any, attention has been bestowed on this point by the writers on Elocution ; the distinction above pointed out between Read- ing and Speaking having seldom, or never, been precisely stated and dwelt on. Several style of Elocution. Chap. I. § 4. OF ELOCUTION. 361 however have written elaborately on " good Reading," or on Elocution, generally ; and it is not to be denied, that some ingenious and (in themselves) valuable remarks have been thrown out relative to such qualities in Elo- cution as might be classed under the three heads I have laid down, of Perspicuity, Energy, and Elegance : but there is one principle run- ning through all their precepts, which being, according to my views, radically erroneous, must (if those views be correct) vitiate every system founded on it. The principle I mean is, that in order to acquire the best style of Delivery, it is requisite to study analytically the emphases, tones, pauses, degrees of loud- ness, &c. which give the proper effect to each passage that is well delivered — to frame rules founded on the observation of these — and then, in practice, deliberately and carefully to conform the utterance to these rules, so as to form a complete artificial system of Elocution. That such a plan not only directs us into a circuitous and difficult path, towards an object which may be reached by a shorter and straighter, but also, in most instances, com- pletely fails of that very object, and even pro- duces, oftener than not, effects the very reverse of what is designed, is a doctrine for which it will be necessary to offer some reasons ; 362 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. especially as it is undeniable that the system here reprobated, as employed in the case of Elocution, is precisely that recommended and taught in this very Treatise, in respect of the conduct of Arguments. By analyzing the best compositions, and observing what kinds of argu- ments, and what modes of arranging them, in each case, prove most successful, general rules have been framed, which an author is recom- mended studiously to observe in Composition : and this is precisely the procedure which, in Elocution, I deprecate. Excellence The Tcason for making such a difference in in matter 5",'!*" , these two cases is this : whoever (as Dr. A. Smith delivery to ^ {"nopposltf remarks in the passage lately cited*) appears to be attending to his own utterance, which will almost inevitably be the case with every one who is doing so, is sure to give offence, and to be censured for an affected delivery; be- cause every one is expected to attend exclu- sively to the proper object of the action he is engaged in ; which, in this case, is the expres- sion of the thoughts — not the sound of the expressions. Whoever therefore learns, and endeavours to apply in practice, any artificial rules of Elocution, so as deliberately to modu- late his voice conformably to the principles he * See part iii. chap, iiu §. 4 . p. 348. ways. Chap. 1. § 4. OF ELOCUTION. ' 363 has adopted, (however just they may be in themselves,) will hardly ever fail to betray his intention ; which always gives offence when perceived. Arguments, on the contrary, must be deliberately framed. Whether any one's course of reasoning be sound and judicious, or not, it is necessary, and it is expected, that it should be the result of thought. No one, as Dr. Smith observes, is charged with affec- tation for giving his attention to the proper object of the action he is engaged in. As therefore the proper object of the Orator is to adduce convincing Arguments, and topics of Persuasion, there is nothing offensive in his appearing deliberately to aim at this object. He may indeed weaken the force of what is urged by too great an appearance of elaborate composition, or by exciting suspicion of Rhetorical trick ; but he is so far from being expected to pay no attention to the sense of what he says, that the most powerful argument would lose much of its force, if it were sup- posed to have been thrown out casually, and at random. Here therefore the employment of a regular system (if founded on just prin- ciples) can produce no such ill effect as in the case of Elocution : since the habitual attention which that implies, to the choice and arrange- ment of arguments, is such as must take place. 364 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. at any rate ; whether it be conducted on any- settled principles or not. The only difference is, that he who proceeds on a correct system, will think and deliberate concerning the course of his Reasoning to better purpose than he who does not : he will do well and easily, what the other does ill, and with more labour. Both alike must bestow their attention on the Matter of what they say, if they would pro- duce any effect ; both are not only allowed, but expected to do so. The two opposite modes of proceeding therefore, which are recommended in respect of these two points, (the Argument and the Delivery,) are, in fact, both the result of the same circumstance ; viz. that the speaker is expected to bestow his whole attention on the proper business of his speech, which is, not the Elocution, but the Matter.* §5. Natural style Whcu howcvcr I protcst agaiust all artificial of Elocution. _ _ systems of Elocution, and all direct attention * Style occupies in some respects an intermediate place between these two ; in what degree each quality of it should or should not be made an object of attention at the time of composing, and how far the appearance of such at- tention is tolerated, has been already treated of in the preceding Part. Chap. I. § 5. OF ELOCUTION. 365 to Delivery, at the time, it must not be sup- posed that a general inattention to that point is recommended ; or that the most perfect Elocution is to be attained by never thinking at all on the subject ; though it may safely be affirmed that even this negative plan would succeed far better than a studied modulation. But it is evident that if any one wishes to assume the Speaker as far as possible, i. e. to deliver a written composition with some degree of the manner and effect of one that is extemporaneous, he will have a considerable difficulty to surmount : since though this may be called, in a certain sense, the Natural Manner, it is far from being what he will naturally, i. e. spontaneously, fall into. It is by no means natural for any one to read as if he were not reading, but speaking. And again, even when any one is reading what he does not wish to deliver as his own composi- tion, as, for instance, a portion of the Scrip- tures, or the Liturgy, it is evident that this may be done better or worse, in infinite degrees ; and that though (according to the views here taken) a studied attention to the sounds uttered, at the time of uttering them, leads to an affected and offensive delivery, yet, on the other hand, an utterly careless reader cannot be a good one. 366 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. Chap. II. — Artificial and Natural Methods compared. §1- Reading. With a view to Perspicuity then, the first requisite in all Delivery, viz. that quality which makes the meaning fully understood by the hearers, the great point is that the Reader (to confine our attention for the present to that branch) should appear to understand what he reads. If the composition be, in itself, intelhgible to the persons addressed, he will make them fully understand it, by so deliver- ing it. But to this end, it is not enough that he should himself actually understand it; it is possible, notwithstanding, to read it as if he did not. And in like manner with a view to the quality, which has been here called Energy, it is not sufficient that he should himself feel, and be impressed with the force of what he utters ; he may, notwithstanding, deliver it as if he were unimpressed. §2. Sheridan. Thc rcmcdy that has been commonly pro- posed for these defects, is to point out in such a work, for instance, as the Liturgy, which words ought to be marked as emphatic, — in Chap. II. § 2. OF ELOCUTION. 367 what places the voice is to be suspended, raised, lowered, &c. One of the best writers on the subject, Sheridan, in his Lectures ou the Art of Reading,* (whose remarks on many points coincide with the principles here laid down, though he differs from me on the main question — as to the System to be practically followed with a view to the proposed object,) adopts a peculiar set of marks for denoting the different pauses, emphases, &c. and applies these, with accompanying explanatory obser- vations, to the greater part of the Liturgy, and to an Essay subjoined ;f recommending that the habit should be formed of regulating the voice by his marks ; and that afterwards readers should " write out such parts as they want to deliver properly, without any of the usual stops; and, after having considered them well, mark the pauses and emphases by the new signs which have been annexed to them, according to the best of their judg- ment," &c. To the adoption of any such artificial * See note, p. 356. It is to be observed, however, that most of the objections I have adduced do not apply to this or that system in particular ; to Sheridan's, for instance, as distinguished from Walker's ; but, to all such systems generally ; as may be seen from what is said in the present section. -f- See Appendix, [I]. 368 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. scheme there are three weighty objections ; first, that the proposed system must necessarily be imperfect ; secondly, that if it were perfect, it would be a circuitous path to the object in view ; and thirdly, that even if both those objections were removed., the object would not be effectually obtained. oahe'Iftilr First, such a system must necessarily be cia system, jj^p^j-fg^.^ . becausc though the emphatic word in each sentence may easily be pointed out in writing, no variety of marks that could be in- vented,— not even musical notation, — would suffice to indicate the different tones* in which the different emphatic words should be pro- nounced ; though on this depends frequently the whole force, and even sense of the ex- pression. Take, as an instance, the words of Macbeth in the witches' cave, when he is addressed by one of the Spirits which they raise, '' Macbeth ! Macbeth ! Macbeth !" on which he exclaims, '' Had I three ears I'd hear thee ;" no one would dispute that the stress is to be laid on the word " three ;" and thus much might be indicated to the reader's eye ; but if he had nothing else to trust to, he might chance to deliver the passage in such a manner as to be utterly absurd ; for it is possible to pronounce the emphatic word " three," in * See Note, p. 356. CiiAP. II. §2. OF ELOCUTION. 369 such a tone as to indicate that " since he has but two ears he cannot hear." Again, the following passage, (Mark iv. 21.) " Is a candle brought to be put under a bushel, or under a bed," I have heard so pronounced as to imply that there is no other alternative: and yet the emphasis was laid on the right words. It would be nearly as hopeless a task to attempt adequately to convey, by any written marks, precise directions as to the rate, — the degree of rapidity or slowness, — with which each sentence and clause should be delivered. Longer and shorter pauses may indeed be easily denoted ; and marks may be used, similar to those in music, to indicate, generally, quick, slow, or moderate time ; but it is evident that the variations which actually take place are infinite — far beyond what any marks could suggest ; and that much of the force of what is said depends on the degree of rapidity with which it is uttered ; chiefly on the relative rapidity of one part in comparison of another. For instance, in such a sentence as the fol- lowing, in one of the Psalms, which one may usually hear read at one uniform rate; "all men that see it shall say, this hath God done ; for they shall perceive that it is his work ;" the four words *' this hath God done," though monosyllables, ought to occupy very little less B B Circuitous- ness of the 370 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. time in utterance than all the rest of the verse together. 2dly, But were it even possible to bring to micTai'sys- the highest perfection the proposed system of marks, it would still be a circuitous road to the desired end. Suppose it could be com- pletely indicated to the eye, in what tone each word and sentence should be pronounced according to the several occasions, the learner might ask, " but why should this tone suit the awful, — this, the pathetic, — this, the narrative style ? whj is this mode of delivery adopted for a command, — this for an exhortation, — this, for a supphcation ?" &c. The only answer that could be given, is, that these tones, emphases, &c. are a part of the lan- guage ; — that nature, or custom, which is a second nature, suggests spontaneously these different modes of giving expression to the different thoughts, feelings, and designs, which are present to the mind of any one who, without study, is speaking in earnest his own sentiments. Then, if this be the case, why not leave nature to do her own work ? Im- press but the mind fully with the sentiments, &c. to be uttered ; withdraw the attention from the sound, and fix it on the sense ; and nature, or habit, will spontaneously suggest the proper Delivery. That this will be the Chap. II. §2. OF ELOCUTION. 371 case is not only true, but is the very supposi- tion on which the artificial system proceeds ; for it professes to teach the mode of DeHvery naturally adapted to each occasion. It is surely, therefore, a circuitous path that is proposed, when the learner is directed, first to consider how each passage ought to be read ; i. e. what mode of delivering each part of it would spontaneousli/ occur to him, if he were attending exclusively to the matter of it ; then to observe all the modulations, &c. of voice, which take place in such a Delivery ; then, to note these down, by established marks, in writing ; and, lastly, to pronounce according to these marks. This seems like recommend- ing, for the purpose of raising the hand to the mouth, that he should first observe, when performing that action without thought of any thing else, what muscles are contracted, — in what degrees, — and in what order ; then, that he should note down these observations ; and lastly, that he should, in conformity with these notes, contract each muscle in due degree, and in proper order ; to the end that he may be enabled, after all, to — lift his hand to his mouth ; which by supposition, he had already done. Such instruction is like that bestowed by Moliere's pedantic tutor upon his Bour- geois Ge7itilhomme, who was taught, to his B b2 372 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. infinite surprise and delight, what configura- tions of the mouth he employed in pronounc- ing the several letters of the alphabet, which he had been accustomed to utter all his life, without knowing how.* Appearance 3. Lastly, waivlng both the above ob- of affectation •' ' *--' from*thf ar- jectlous. If & persou could learn thus to read tificial sys- , , • i i tem. and speak, as it were, bi/ note, with the same fluency and accuracy as are attainable in the case of singing, still the desired object of a perfectly natural as well as correct Elocution, would never be in this way attained. The reader's attention being fixed on his own voice, (which in singing, and there only, is allowed and expected,) the inevitable conse- quence would be that he would betray more or less his studied and artificial Delivery ; and would, in the same degree, manifest an offensive affectation. It should be observed, however, that, in the reading of the Liturgy especially, so many gross faults are become quite familiar to many, from what they are accustomed to hear, if not from their own practice, as to render it * " Qu'est ce que vous faites quand vous prononcez 0? Maisje dis, O !" An answer which, if not savouring of Philosophical analysis, gave at least a good practical solution of the problem. Chap. II. § 3. OF ELOCUTION. 373 peculiarly difficult to unlearn, or even detect them ; and as an aid towards the exposure of such faults, there may be great advantage in studying Sheridan's observations and directions respecting the delivery of it ; provided care be taken, in practice, to keep clear of his faulty principle, by withdrawing the attention from the sound of the voice, as carefully as he recommends it to be directed to that point. §3. The practical rule then to be adopted, in Naturaiman- ner how to conformity with the principles here main- ^^ '^'=""^^'*- tained, is, not only to pay no studied attention to the voice, but studiously to withdraw the thoughts from it, and to dwell as intently as possible on the Sense ; trusting to nature to suggest spontaneously the proper emphases and tones. Many persons are so far impressed with the truth of the doctrine here inculcated, as to acknowledge that " it is a great fault for a reader to be too much occupied with thoughts respecting his own voice ;" and thus they think to steer a middle course between opposite extremes. But it should be remembered that this middle course entirely nullifies the whole advantage proposed by the plan recommended. A reader is sure to pay too much attention to 374 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. his voicej not only if he pays any at all, but if he does not strenuously labour to withdraw his attention from it altogether/ He who not only understands fully what he is reading, but is earnestly occupying his mind with the matter of it, will be likely to read as if he understood it, and thus to make others understand it ; * and in like manner, with a view to the impressiveness of the Delivery, he who not only feels it, but is exclusively ab- sorbed with that feeling, will be likely to read as if he felt it, and to communicate the im- pression to his hearers. But this cannot be the case if he is occupied with the thought of what their opinion will be of his reading, and, how his voice ought to be regulated ; — if, in * Who, for instance, that was really thinking of a resur- rection from the dead, would ever tell any one that our Lord " rose again from the dead ;" (which is so common a mode of reading the Creed,) as if He had done so more than once? It is to be observed, however, that it is not enough for a reader to have his mind fixed on the subject ; without regard to the occasion, &c. It is possible to read a prayer weU, with the tone and manner of a man who is not j^raying, i. e. addressing the Deity, but addressing the audience, and reciting a form of words for their instruction : and such is generally the case with those who are commended as "fine readers " of the Liturgy. Extemporaneous prayers again are generally delivered, with spirit indeed, but (after the few first sentences) not as prayers, but as exhortations to the congregation. Chap. II. §4. OF ELOCUTION. 375 short, he is thinking of himself, and, of course, in the same degree, abstracting his attention from that which ought to occupy it exclusively. It is not, indeed, desirable, that in reading the Bible, for example, or any thing which is not intended to appear as his own compo- sition, he should deliver what are, avowedly, another's sentiments, in the same style, as if they were such as arose in his own mind ; but it is desirable that he should deliver them as if he were repotiing another's sentiments, which were both fully understood, and felt in all their force by the reporter : and the only way to do this effectually, — with such modulations of voice, &c. as are suitable to each word and passage, — is to fix his mind earnestly on the meaning, and leave nature and habit to suggest the utterance. §4. Some may, perhaps, suppose that this pimcuities amounts to the same thing as taking no pains ""'"^ "™'"'^'- at all; and if, with this impression, they attempt to try the experiment of a natural Delivery, their ill-success will probably lead them to censure the proposed method, for the failure resulting from their own mistake. In truth, it is by no means a very easy task, to fix the attention on the meaning, in the manner and 376 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. to the degree now proposed. The thoughts of one who is reading any thing very famiUar to him, are apt to wander to other subjects, though perhaps such as are connected with that which is before him ; if, again, it be something new to him, he is apt (not indeed to wander to another subject, but) to get the start, as it were, of his readers, and to be thinking, while uttering each sentence, not of that, but of the sentence which comes next. And in both cases, if he is careful to avoid those faults, and is desirous of reading well, it is a matter of no small difficulty, and calls for a constant effort, to prevent the mind from wandering in another direction ; viz. into thoughts respecting his own voice, — respecting the effect produced by each sound, — the ap- probation he hopes for from the hearers, &c* And this is the prevailing fault of those who are commonly said to take great pains in their reading ; pains which will always be taken in vain, with a view to the true object to be aimed at, as long as the effort is thus applied in a wrong direction. With a view, indeed, to a very different object, the approbation bestowed on the reading, this artificial delivery will often be more successful than the natural. Pompous spouting, and many other descriptions of un- natural tone and measured cadence, are fre- CiiAP. II. § 4. OF ELOCUTION, 377 quently admired by many as excellent reading; which admiration is itself a proof that it is not deserved ; for when the Delivery is really good, the hearers (except any one who may delibe- rately set himself to observe and criticise) never think about it, but are exclusively occupied with the sense it conveys, and the feelings it excites. Still more to increase the difficulty of the Advantages •> of imitation method here recommended, (for it is no less b^tSop- Wise than honest to take a lair view oi diin- natural manner. culties,) this circumstance is to be noticed, that he who is endeavouring to bring it into practice, is in a great degree precluded from the advantage of imitation. A person who hears and approves a good reader in the Natural maimer, may, indeed, so far imitate him with advantage, as to adopt his plan, of fixing his attention on the matter, and not thinking about his voice ; but this very plan, evidently, by its nature, precludes any further imitation ; for if, while reading, he is thinking of copying the manner of his model, he will, for that very reason, be unlike that model ; the main principle of the proposed method being, carefully to exclude every such thought. Whereas, any artificial system may as easily be learned by imitation as the notes of a song. 378 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. Advantages PracticG also (i. e. private practice for the of practice ■*■ ■"■ fi'etiopfio^n sake of learning) is much more difficult in the ?aimannen proposed mcthod ; because the rule being to use such a delivery as is suited, not only to the matter of what is said, but also, of course, to the 'place, and occasion, and this, not by any studied modulations, but according to the spontaneous suggestions of the matter, place, and occasion, to one whose mind is fully and exclusively occupied with these, it follows, that he who would practise this method in private, must, by a strong effort of a vivid imagination, figure to himself a place and an occasion which are not present ; otherwise, he will either be thinldng of his delivery, (which is fatal to his proposed object,) or else will use a delivery suited to the situation in which he actually is, and not, to that for which he would prepare himself. Any system, on the contrary, of studied emphasis and regulation of the voice, may be learned in private prac- tice, as easily as singing. Chap. III. § 1. OF ELOCUTION. 379 Chap. III. — Considerations arising from the differences between Reading and Speaking, § 1- Some additional objections to the method I have recommended, and some further remarks on the counterbalancing advantages of it, will be introduced presently, when I shall have first offered some observations on Speaking, and on that branch of Reading which the most nearly approaches to it. When any one delivers a written composi- tion, of which he is, or is supposed to profess himself, the author, he has peculiar difficulties to encounter,* if his object be to approach as * It must be admitted, however, that (to the members of our Church) the difficulty of reading the Liturgy with spirit, and even with propriety, is something peculiar, on account of (what has been already remarked) the inveterate and long-established faults to which almost every one's ears are become familiar ; so that such a delivery as woxild shock any one of even moderate taste, in any other compo- sition, he will, in this, be likely to tolerate, and to practise. Some, e. g. in the Liturgy, read, " have mercy upon us, miserable sinners;" and others, "have mercy upon us, miserable sinners ;" both, laying the stress on a wrong word, and making the pause in the wrong place, so as to disconnect " us " and '* miserable sinners," which the con- text requires us to combine. Every one, in expressing his 380 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. nearly as possible to the extemporaneous style. It is indeed impossible to produce the full effect of that style, while the audience are aware that the words he utters are before him : but he may approach indefinitely near to such an effect ; and in proportion as he succeeds in this object, the impression produced will be Comparative tlic grcatcr. It has been already remarked, advantages andextem- ^ow casy it is for the hearers to keep up their STs? ' attention, — indeed, how diflScult for them to withdraw it, — when they are addressed by one who is really speaking to them in a natural and own natural sentiments, would say *' have mercy, upon us- miserable-sinners." Many are apt even to commit so gross an error, as to lay the chief stress on the words which denote the most important things ; without any consideration of the em- phatic word of each sentence : e. g. in the Absolution many read, "let us beseech Him to grant us true repentance ;" because forsooth '* true repentance " is an important thing ; not considering that, as it has been just mentioned, it is not the new idea, and that to which the attention should be directed by the emphasis ; the sense being, that since God pardoneth all that have true repentance, therefore, we should '* beseech Him to grant it to usJ' In addition to the other difficulties of reading the Liturgy well, it should be mentioned, that prayer, thanksgiving, and the like, even when avowedly not of our own composition, should be delivered as (what in truth they ought to be) the genuine sentiments of our own minds at the moment of utterance ; which is not the case with the Scriptures, or with any thing else that is read, not professing to be the speaker's own composition. Chap. III. § 1. OF ELOCUTION. 381 earnest manner ; though perhaps the discourse may be incumbered with a good deal of the repetition, awkwardness of expression, and other faults, incident to extemporaneous lan- guage; and though it be prolonged for an hour or two, and yet contain no more matter than a good writer could have clearly expressed in a discourse of half an hour ; which last, if read to them, would not, without some effort on their part, have so fully detained their attention. The advantage in point of style, arrangement, &c. of written, over extempo- raneous, discourses, (such at least as any but the most accomplished orators can produce,) is sufficiently evident : * and it is evident also * Practice in public speaking generally, — practice in speaking on the particular subject in hand, — and (on each occasion) premeditation of ;he matter and arrangement, are all, circumstances of great consequence to a speaker. Nothing but a miraculous gift can supersede these advan- tages. The Apostles accordingly were forbidden to use any premeditation, being assured that " it should be give7i them, in that same hour, what they should say :" and, when they found, in eiFect, this promise fulfilled to them, they had experience, within themselves, of a sensible miracle. This circumstance may furnish a person of sincerity with a useful test for distinguishing (in his own case) the emotions of a fervid imagination, from actual inspiration. It is evident that an inspired preacher can have nothing to gain from practice, or study of any kind : he therefore who finds himself improve by practice, either in Argument, Style, or Delivery, — or who observes that he speaks more fluently 382 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. that other advantages, such as have been just alkided to, belong to the latter. Which is to be preferred on each occasion, and by each orator, it does not belong to the present dis- cussion to inquire ; but it is evidently of the highest importance, to combine, as far as pos- sible, in each case, the advantages of both. A perfect familiainty with the rules laid down in the first part of this Treatise, would be likely, it is hoped, to give the extempora- neous orator that habit of quickly methodizing his thoughts on a given subject, which is essential (at least where no very long preme- ditation is allowed) to give to a speech some- thing of the weight of argument, and clearness of arrangement, which characterize good Writing.* In order to attain the correspond- ing advantage, — to impart to the delivery of a written discourse, something of the vivacity and better, on subjects on which he has been accustomed to speak, — or better, with premeditation, than on a sudden, may indeed deceive his hearers by a pretence to inspiration, but can hardly deceive himself. * Accordingly, it may be remarked, that, (contrary to what might at first sight be supposed,) though the pre- ceding parts, as well as the present, are intended for general application, yet it is to the extemporary/ speaker that the rules laid down in the former part (supposing them correct) will be the most peculiarly useful ; while the suggestions offered in this last, respecting Elocution, are more espe- cially designed for the use of the reader. Chap. III. § 2. OF ELOCUTION. 383 and interesting effect of real, earnest, speaking, the plan to be pursued, conformably with the principles I have been maintaining, is, for the reader to draw off his mind as much as pos- sible from the thought that he is reading, as well as from all thought respecting his own utterance ; — to fix his mind as earnestly as possible on the matter, and to strive to adopt as his own, and as his ozvn at the moment of utterance, every sentiment he delivers ; — and to say it to the audience, in the manner which the occasion and subject spontaneously suggest to him who has abstracted his mind both from all consideration of himself, and from the con- sideration that he is reading. §2. The advantasre of this Natural Manner, Most {i. e. the manner which one naturally falls into ^' who is really speaking, in earnest, and with a mind exclusively intent on what he has to say,) may be estimated from this consideration ; that there are few who do not speak so as to give effect to what they are saying. Some, indeed, do this much better than others : — some have, in ordinary conversation, an indistinct or in- correct pronunciation, — an embarrassed and hesitating utterance, or a bad choice of words : but hardly any one fails to deliver (when men speak well in omnioii iscourse. 384 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. speaking earnestly) what he does say, so as to convey the sense and the force of it, much more completely than even a good reader would, if those same words were written down and read. The latter might, indeed, be more approved ; but that is not the present question ; which is, concerning the impression made on the hearers' minds. It is not the polish of the blade, that is to be considered, or the grace with which it is brandished, but the keenness of the edge, and the weight of the stroke. There is, indeed, a wide difference between different men, in respect of the degrees of impressiveness with which, in earnest conver- sation, they deliver their sentiments ; but it may safely be laid down, that he who delivers a written composition with the same degree of spirit and energy with which he would natu- rally speak on the same subject, has attained, not indeed, necessarily, absolute perfection, but the utmost excellence attainable by him. Any attempt to outdo his own Natural manner, will inevitably lead to something worse than failure. On the contrary, it can hardly be denied that the elocution of most readers, even when delivering their own compositions, is such as to convey the notion, at the very best, not Chap. III. § 3. OF ELOCUTION. 385 that the preacher is expressing his own real sentiments, but that he is making known to his audience what is written in the book before him : and, whether the composition is profess- edly the reader's own, or not, the usual mode of delivery, though grave and decent, is so remote from the energetic style of real Natural Speech, as to furnish, if one may so speak, a kind of running comment on all that is uttered, which says, " I do not mean, think, or feel, all this ; I only mean to recite it with propriety and decorum : " and what is usually called fine Reading, only superadds to this, (as has been above remarked,) a kind of admonition to the hearers, that they ought to believe, to feel, and to admire, what is read. §3. It is easy to anticipate an objection which Natural manner . many will urge agamst, what they will call, a ^^lll^^ colloquial style of delivery ; viz. that it is in- femmar decorous, and unsuitable to the solemnity of a serious, and especially, of a religious discourse. The objection is founded on a mistake. Those who urge it, derive all their notions of a Natural Delivery from two, irrelevant, instances ; that of ordinary conversation, the usual subjects of which, and consequently its usual tone, are comparatively light ; — and, that of the c c manner not 386 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV: coarse and extravagant rant of vulgar fanatical preachers. But to conclude that the objections against either of these styles, would apply to the Natural delivery of a man of sense and taste, speaking earnestly, on a serious subject, and on a solemn occasion, or that he would naturally adopt, and is here advised to adopt, such a style as those objected to, is no less absurd than, if any one, being recommended to walk in a natural and mistudied manner, rather than in a dancing step, (to employ Dr. A. Smith's illustration,) or a formal march, should infer that the natural gait of a clown following the plough, or of a child in its gambols, were proposed as models to be imitated in walking across a room. Should any one on being told that both tragic-acting and comic-acting ought to be a natural repre- sentation of man, interpret this to mean, that Tragedy ought to be performed exactly like Comedy, he would be thought very absurd, if he were supposed to be speaking seriously. It is evident, that what is natural in one case, or for one person, may be, in a different one, very unnatural. It would not be by any means natural to an educated and sober- minded man, to speak like an illiterate enthu- siast ; or to discourse on the most important matters in the tone of familiar conversation Chap. III. § 3. OF ELOCUTION. 387 respecting the trifling occurrences of the day. Any one who does but notice the style in which a man of abihty, and of good choice of words, and utterance, deHvers his sentiments in private, when he is, for instance, earnestly and seriously admonishing a friend, — defending the doctrines of religion, — or speaking on any other grave subject on which he is intent, may easily observe, how different his tone is from that of light and familiar conversation, — how far from deficient in the decent seriousness which befits the case. Even a stranger to the language might guess that he was not engaged on any frivolous topic. And when an oppor- tunity occurs of observing how he delivers a written discourse, of his own composition, on perhaps the very same, or a similar subject, one may generally perceive how comparatively stiff*, languid, and unimpressive is the effect: It may be said indeed, that a sermon should Natural manner is not be preached before a congregation as- ^^^°\"™°],e sembled in a place of worship, in the same jecrand " occasion. style as one would employ in conversing across a table, with equal seriousness on the same subject. This is undoubtedly true : and it is evident that it has been implied in what has here been said; the Natural-manner having been described as accommodated, not only to the subject, but to the 'placCy occasion, and all cc 2 388 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. other circumstances ; so that he who should preach exactly as if he were speaking in pri- vate, though with the utmost earnestness, on the same subject, would, so far, be departing from the genuine Natural-manner. But it may be safely asserted, that even this would be far the less fault of the two. He who appears unmindful, indeed, of the place and occasion, but deeply impressed with the subject, and utterly forgetful of himself, would produce a much stronger effect than one, who, going into the opposite extreme, is, indeed, mindful of the place and the occasion, but not fully occupied with the subject, (though he may strive to appear so ;) being partly engaged in thoughts respecting his own voice. The latter would, indeed, be the less likely to incur censure ; but the other would produce the deeper impression. The object, however, to be aimed at, (and it is not unattainable,) is to avoid both faults ; — to keep the mind impressed both with the matter spoken, and with all the circumstances also of each case; so that the voice may spontaneously accommodate itself to all; care- fully avoiding all studied modulations, and, in short, all thoughts oiself ; which, in proportion as they intrude, will not fail to diminish the effect. Chap. III. § 4. OF ELOCUTION. 389 §4. It must be admitted, indeed, that the diffe- a famuiar delivery one rent kinds of Natm'al dehvery of any one thetatilli. individual on different subjects and occasions, various as they are, do yet bear a much greater resemblance to each other, than any of them does to the Artificial-style usually employed in reading ; a proof of which is, that a person familiarly acquainted with the speaker, will seldom fail to recognise his voices amidst all the variations of it, when he is speaking naturally and earnestly ; though it will often happen that, if he have never before heard him ready he will be at a loss, when he happens accidentally to hear without seeing him, to know who it is that is reading ; so widely does the artificial cadence and intonation differ in many instances from the natural. And a con- sequence of this is, that the Natural-manner, however perfect, — however exactly accommo- dated to the subject, place, and occasion, — will, even when these are the most solemn, in some degree remind the hearers of the tone of con- versation. Amidst all the differences that will exist, this one point of resemblance, — that of the delivery being unforced and unstudied, — will be likely, in some degree, to strike them. Those who arc good judges will perceive at 390 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. once, and the rest, after being a little accus- tomed to the Natural-manner, that there is not necessarily any thing irreverent or indecorous in it ; but that, on the contrary, it conveys the idea of the speaker's being deeply impressed with that which is his proper business. But, for a time, many will be disposed to find fault with such a kind of elocution ; and, in parti- cular, to complain of its indicating a want of respect for the audience. Yet even while this disadvantage continues, a preacher of this kind may be assured that the doctrine he delivers is much more forcibly impressed, even on those who censure his style of delivering it, than it could be in the other way. A discourse deUvered in this style has been known to elicit the remark, from one of the lower orders, who had never been accustomed to any thing of the kind, that " it was an excellent sermon, and it was great pity it had not been preached y' a censure which ought to have been very satisfactory to the preacher: had he employed a pompous spout, or modu- lated whine, it is probable such an auditor would have admired his preach'mg, but would have known and thought little or nothing about the matter of what was taught. Which of the two objects ought to be pre- ferred bv a Christian Minister, on Christian CiiAP. III. § 5. OF ELOCUTION. 391 principles, is a question, not indeed hard to decide, but foreign to the present discussion. It is important, however, to remark, that an Orator is bound, as such, not merely on moral, but (if such an expression may be used) on rhetorical principles, to be mainly, and indeed exclusively, intent on carrying his point ; not, on gaining approbation, or even avoiding cen- sure, except with a view to that point. He should, as it were, adopt as a motto, the reply of Themistocles to the Spartan commander, Eurybiades, who lifted his staff to chastise the earnestness with which his own opinion was controverted ; " Strike, but hear me." I would not, indeed, undertake to maintain (like Quinctilian) that no one can be an Orator who is not a virtuous man ; but there certainly is a kind of moral excellence implied in that renunciation of all effort after display, — in that forgetfulness of self, — which is absolutely necessary, both in the manner of writing, and in the delivery, to give the full force to what is said. %5. Besides the inconvenience just mentioned, — the censure, which the proposed style of elocution will be liable to, from perhaps the majority of hearers, till they shall have become 392 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV somewhat accustomed to it — this circumstance also ought to be mentioned, as what many, perhaps, would reckon (or at least feel) to be one of the disadvantages of it ; that, after all, even when no disapprobation is incurred, no mannei not P^^^^^ ^ill be bcstowcd, (except by observant praised. critics,) ou a truly Natural delivery : on the contrary, the more perfect it is, the more will it withdraw, from itseJfttb'the arguments and sentiments delivered, the ^attention of all but those who are studiously directing their view to the mode of utterance, with a design to criticise or to learn. The credit, on the contrary, of having a very fine elocution, is to be obtained at the expense of a very moderate share of pains ; though at the ex- pense also, inevitably, of much of the force of what is said. § 6. Bashfuiness ^"^ inconvenieuce, which will at first be felt on first • i i l /v l • adopting the cxperieuced by a person who, alter havmg manner. heBU loug accustomed to the Artificial dehvery, begins to adopt the Natural, is, that he will be likely suddenly to feel an embarrassed, bashful, and, as it is frequently called, nervous sensation, to which he had before been com- paratively a stranger. He will find himself in a new situation, — standing before his audi- Chap. III. §6. OF ELOCUTION. 393 ence in a different character — stripped, as it were, of the sheltering veil of a conventional and artificial delivery ; — in short, delivering to them his thoughts, as one man speaking to other men ; not, as before, merely reading in public. And he will feel that he attracts a much greater share of their attention, not only by the novelty of a manner to which most congregations are little accustomed, but also, (even supposing them to have been accustomed to extemporary discourses,) from their perceiv- ing themselves to be personally addressed, and feeling that he is not merely reciting something before them, but saying it to them. The speaker and the hearers will thus be brought into a new and closer relation to each other : and the increased interest thus excited in the audience, will cause the Speaker to feel him- self in a different situation, — in one which is a greater trial of his confidence, and which renders it more difficult than before to with- draw his attention from himself. It is hardly necessary to observe that this very change of feelings experienced by the speaker, ought to convince him the more, if the causes of it (to which I have just alluded) be attentively considered, how much greater impression this manner is hkely to produce. As he will be likely to feel much of the bashfulness which a 394 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. really extemporary speaker has to struggle against, so he may produce much of a similar effect. After all, however, the effect will never be completely the same. A composition delivered from writing, and one actually extempora- neous, will always produce feelings, both in the hearer and the speaker, considerably different ; even on the supposition of their being word for word the same, and delivered so exactly in the same tone, that by the ear alone no difference could be detected : still the audience will be differently affected, according to their knowledge that the words uttered, are, or are not, written down and before the speaker's eyes. And the conscious- ness of this will produce a corresponding effect on the mind of the speaker. For were this not so, any one who, on any subject, can speak (as many can) fluently and correctly in private conversation, would find no greater difficulty in saying the same things before a large congregation, than in reading to them a written discourse. §7. Enquiry re- And hcrc it may be worth while briefly to specting the ' ' feTun^ad-'' luquire into the causes of that remarkable large audi- pheuomenon, as it may justly be accounted. Chap. III. § 7. OF ELOCUTION. 395 that a person who is able with facihty to express his sentiments in private to a friend, in such language, and in such a manner, as would be perfectly suitable to a certain audi- ence, yet finds it extremely difficult to address to that audience the very same words, in the same manner ; and is, in many instances, either completely struck dumb, or greatly embarrassed, when he attempts it. Most persons are so familiar with the fact, as hardly to have ever considered that it requires expla- nation : but attentive consideration shews it to be a very curious, as well as important one ; and of which no explanation, as far as I know, has been attempted. It cannot be from any superior deference which the speaker thinks it right to feel for the judgment of the hearers ; for it will often happen that the single friend, to whom he is able to speak fluently, shall be one whose good opinion he more values, and to whose wisdom he is more disposed to look up, than of all the others together. The speaker may even feel that he himself has a decided and acknowledged superiority over every one of the audience ; and that he should not be the least abashed in addressing any two or three of them, separately ; yet still all of them, collectively, will often inspire him with a kind of dread. Powerful excitement produced In a large au- dience. 396 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. Closely allied in its causes with the pheno- menon I am considering, is that other curious fact, that the very same sentiments expressed in the same manner, will often have a far more powerful effect on a large audience, than they would have on any one or two of these very persons, separately. That is in a great degree true of all men, which was said of the Athenians, that they were like sheep, of which a flock is more easily driven than a single one. Different Auothcr rcmarkablc circumstance, con- empioyed ncctcd wlth tlic foresfoiuff, is the difference in according to C *-> idS^d?'^ respect of the style which is suitable, respec- tively, in addressing a multitude, and two or three even of the same persons. A much holder, as well as less accurate, kind of lan- guage is both allowable and advisable, in speaking to a considerable number; as Aris- totle has remarked,* in speaking of the Graphic and Agonistic styles, — the former, suited to the closet, the latter, to public speaking before a large assembly. And he ingeniously com- pares them to the different styles of painting ; the greater the crowd, he says, the more distant is the view ; so that in scene-painting, for instance, coarser and bolder touches are required, and the nice finish, which would * Rhetoric, book iii. Chap. III. § 8. OF ELOCUTION. 397 delight a close spectator, would be lost. He does not, however, account for the phenomena in question. §8. The solution of them will be found by at- The phe- nomena tention to a very curious and complex play J^^';'^fy{°. of sympathies which takes place in a large '^^^^^' assembly ; and, (within certain limits,) the more, in proportion to its numbers. First, it is to be observed that we are disposed to sym- pathize with any emotion which we believe to exist in the mind of any one present; and hence, if we are at the same time otherwise disposed to feel that emotion, such disposition is in consequence heightened. In the next place, we not only ourselves feel this tendency, but we are sensible that others do the same ; and thus, we sympathize not only with the other emotions of the rest, but also, with their sympathy towards us. Any emotion accord- ingly which we feel, is still further heightened by the knowledge that there are others pre- sent who not only feel the same, but feel it the more strongly in consequence of their sympathy with ourselves. Lastly, we are sensible that those around us sympathize not only with ourselves, but with each other also ; and as we enter into this heightened feeling of 398 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV theirs likewise, the stimulus to our own minds is thereby still further increased. The case of the Ludicrous affords the most obvious illustration of these principles, from the circumstance that the effects produced are so open and palpable. If any thing of this nature occurs, you are disposed, by the cha- racter of the thing itself, to laugh : but much more, if any one else is known to be present whom you think likely to be diverted with it ; even though that other should not know of your presence ; but much more still, if he does know it; because you are then aware that sympathy with your emotion heightens his : and most of all will the disposition to laugh be increased, if many are present ; because each is then aware that they all sympathize with each other, as well as with himself. It is hardly necessary to mention the exact corre- spondence of the fact with the above expla- nation. So important, in this case, is the operation of the causes here noticed, that hardly any one ever laughs when he is quite alone : or if he does, he will find on consi- deration, that it is from a conception of the presence of some companion whom he thinks likely to have been amused, had he been present, and to whom he thinks of describing, or repeating, what had diverted himself. Chap. III. § 8. OF ELOCUTION. 399 Indeed, in other cases, as well as the one just instanced, almost every one is aware of the infectious nature of any emotion excited in a large assembly. It may be compared to the increase of sound by a number of echoes, or of light, by a number of mirrors ; or to the blaze of a heap of firebrands, each of which would speedily have gone out if kindled separately, but which, when thrown together, help to kindle each other. The application of what has been said to the case before us is sufficiently obvious. In addressing a large assembly, you know that each of them sympathizes both with your own anxiety to acquit yourself well, and also with the same feeling in the minds of the rest. You know also, that every slip you may be guilty of, that may tend to excite ridicule, pity, disgust, &c. makes the stronger impression on each of the hearers, from their mutual sym- pathy, and their consciousness of it. This augments your anxiety. Next, you know that each hearer, putting himself mentally, in the speaker's place,* sympathizes with this aug- mented anxiety ; which is by this thought increased still further. And if you become at * Hence it is that shy persons are, as is matter of common remark, the more distressed by this infirmity when in com- pany with those who are subject to the same. 400 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. all embarrassed, the knowledge that there are so many to sympathize, not only with that embarrassment, but also with each other's feelings on the perception of it, heightens your confusion to the utmost. The same causes will account for a skilful orator's being able to rouse so much more easily, and more powerfully, the passions of a multitude ; they inflame each other by mutual sympathy, and mutual consciousness of it. And hence it is that a bolder kind of language is suitable to such an audience : a passage which, in the closet, might just at the first glance tend to excite awe, compassion, indig- nation, or any other such emotion, but which would, on a moment's cool reflection, appear extravagant, may be very suitable for the Agonistic style ; because, before that moment's reflection could take place in each hearer's mind, he would be aware that every one around him sympathized in that first emotion; which would thus become so much heightened as to preclude, in a great degree, the ingress of any counteracting sentiment. If one could suppose such a case as that of a speaker, (himself aware of the circum- stance,) addressing a multitude, each of whom believed himself to be the sole hearer, it is probable that little or no embarrassment would Chap. III. §9. OF ELOCUTION. 401 be felt, and a much more sober, calm, and finished style of language would be adopted. §9. The impossibihty of bringing the delivery of |»[^>y^ a written composition completely to a level ouTspeaktr with real extemporary speakmg, (though, as ™""/4"^ has been said, it may approach indefinitely ''''^'^' near to such an effect,) is explained on the same principle. Besides that the audience are more sure that the thoughts they hear ex- pressed, are the genuine emanation of the speaker's mind at the moment,* their attention and interest are the more excited by their sympathy with one whom they perceive to be carried forward solely by his own unaided and unremitted efforts, without having any book to refer to ; they view him as a swimmer sup- ported by his own constant exertions ; and in every such case, if the feat be well accom- plished, the surmounting of the difficulty affords great gratification ; especially to those who are conscious that they could not do the same. * It is not meant by this that an extemporary speaker necessarily composes (in respect of his matter) extempore, or that he professes to do so : but only, that if he frames each sentence at the moment, he must, at that moment, have the sentiment which is expressed in it strongly present to his mind. DD 402 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. And one proof, that part of the pleasure con- veyed does arise from this source, is, that as the spectators of an exhibition of supposed un- usual skill in swimming, would instantly with- draw most of their interest and admiration, if they perceived that the performer was sup- ported by corks, or the like ; so would the feelings alter of the hearers of a supposed extemporaneous discourse, as soon as they should perceive, or even suspect, that the orator had it written down before him. §10. proposed. The way in which the respective incon- veniences of both kinds of discourses may best be avoided, is evident from what has been already said. Let both the extemporary Speaker, and the Reader of his own compo- sitions, study to avoid, as far as possible, all thoughts of self, earnestly fixing the mind on the matter of what is delivered ; and the one will feel the less of that embarrassment which arises from the thought of what opinion the hearers will form of him ; while the other will appear to be speaking, because he actually will be speaking, the sentiments, not indeed which at that time first arise in his own mind, but, which are then really present to, and occupy his mind. Chap. IV. § 1. OF ELOCUTION. 403 Chap. IV. — Practical deductions from tlie foregoing views. §1- One of the consequences of the adoption of original compositions the mode of elocution here recommended, is, tJJ|,*';','^t^*°, that he who endeavours to employ it will find '^^^'"'"y- a growing reluctance to the delivery, as his own, of any but his own compositions. Doc- trines, indeed, and arguments he will freely borrow; but he will be led to compose his own discourses, from finding that he cannot deliver those of another to his own satisfac- tion, without laboriously studying them, as an actor does his part, so as to make them, in some measure, his own. And with this view, he will generally find it advisable to introduce many alterations in the expression, not with any thought of improving the style, absolutely , but only with a view to his own delivery. And indeed, even his own previous compositions, he will be led to alter, almost as much, in point of expression, in order to accommodate them to the Natural manner of delivery. Much that would please in the closet, — much of the Graphic style described by Aristotle, will be laid aside for the Agonistic ; — for a style some" what more blunt and homely, — more simple, dd2 404 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. and, apparently unstudied in its structure, and, at the same time, more daringly energetic. And if again he is desirous of fitting his dis- courses for the press, he will find it expedient to reverse this process, and alter the style afresh. In many instances accordingly, the perusal of a manuscript sermon would afford, from the observation of its style, a tolerably good ground of conjecture as to the author's customary elocution. For instance, a rapid elocution suits the more full, and a slow one, the more concise style ; and great variations in the degree of rapidity of delivery are suited to the corresponding variations in the style. A mere sermon-reader, on the contrary, will avoid this inconvenience, and this labour ; he will be able to preach another's discourses nearly as well as his own ; and may send his own to the press, without the necessity of any great preparation : but he will purchase these advantages at the expense of more than half the force which might have been given to the sentiments uttered. And he will have no right to complain that his discourses, though replete perhaps with good sense, learning, and eloquence, are received with languid apathy, or that many are seduced from their attend- ance on his teaching, by the vapid rant of an Chap. IV. § 1. OF ELOCUTION. 405 illiterate fanatic. Much of these evils must indeed be expected, after all, to remain : but he does not give himself a fair chance for diminishing them, unless he does justice to his own arguments, instructions, and exhortations, by speaking them, in the only effectual way, to the hearts of his hearers ; that is, as uttered naturally /rowi his own. I have seen somewhere an anecdote of some celebrated actor being asked by a divine, "How is it that people listen with so much emotion to what you say, which they know to be all fictitious, besides that it would be no concern of their's, even if true ; while they hear with comparative apathy, from us, truths, the most sublime, and the most impor- tant to them ?" The answer was, " Because we deliver fiction like truth, and you deliver truth like fiction." The principles here laid down may help to explain a remarkable fact which is usually attributed to other than the true causes. The powerful effects often produced by some fana- tical preachers, not superior in pious and sincere zeal, and inferior in learning, in good sense, and in taste, to men who are listened to with comparative apathy, are frequently considered as a proof of superior eloquence; though an eloquence tarnished by barbarism. 406 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. and extravagant mannerism. But may not such effects result, not from any superior powers in the preacher, but merely from the intrinsic beauty and sublimity, and the mea- sureless importance of the subject ? But why then, it may be replied, does not the other preacher, whose subject is the very same, produce the same effect ? The answer is, because he is but half-attended to. The ordi- nary measured cadence of reading, is not only in itself dull, but is what men 2xq Jamlliarly accustomed to : Religion itself also, is a sub- ject so familiar, in a certain sense, (familiar, that is, to the ear^ as to be trite, even to those who hnow and think little about it. Let but the attention be thoroughly roused, and intently fixed on such a stupendous subject, and that subject itself will produce the most overpowering emotion. And not only unaf- fected earnestness of manner, but, perhaps, even still more, any uncouth oddity, and even ridiculous extravagance, will, by the stimulus of novelty, have the effect of thus rousing the hearers from their ordinary lethargy. So that a preacher of little or no real eloquence, will sometimes, on such a subject, produce the effects of the greatest eloquence, by merely forcing the hearers (often, even by the exces- sively glaring faults of his style and delivery) Chap. IV. § 2. OF ELOCUTION. 4Q7 to attend, to a subject which no one can really attend to unmoved. It will not of course be supposed that my intention is to recommend the adoption of extravagant rant. The good effects which it undoubtedly does sometimes produce, inci- dentally, in some, is more than counter- balanced by the mischievous consequences to others. §2. One important practical maxim resulting Practice of c 1 • 1 1 'ii'ii recitation at from the views here taken, is the decided P'^^/'ois in- ' jurious. condemnation of all recitation of speeches by school-boyS ; a practice so much approved and recommended by many, with a view to pre- paring youths for Public-Speaking in after life. It is to be condemned, however, (supposing the foregoing principle correct,) not as useless merely, but absolutely pernicious, with a view to that object. The justness, indeed, of this opinion will, doubtless, be disputed; but its consistency with the plan I have been recom- mending, is almost too obvious to be insisted on. In any one who should think a natural delivery desirable, it would be an obvious absurdity to think of attaining it by practising that which is the most completely artificial. * If there is, as is evident, much difficulty to be 408 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. surmounted, even by one who is delivering, on a serious occasion, his own composition, before he can completely succeed in abstracting his mind from all thoughts of his own voice, — of the judgment of the audience on his per- formance, &c. and in fixing it on the Matter, Occasion, and Place, — on every circumstance which ought to give the character to his elocution, — how much must this difficulty be enhanced, when neither the sentiments he is to utter, nor the character he is to assume, are his own, or even supposed to be so, or anywise connected with him : — when neither the place, the occasion, nor the audience, which are actually present, have any thing to do with the substance of what is said. It is therefore almost inevitable, that he will studiously form to himself an artificial manner ;* which (espe- cially if he succeed in it) will probably cling to him through life, even when he is delivering his own compositions on real occasions. The very best that can be expected, is, that he * Some have used the expression of " a conscious man- ner," to denote that which results (either in conversation,- - in the ordinary actions of life, — or in public speaking) from the anxious attention which some persons feel to the opinion the company may form of them ; — a consciousness of being watched and scrutinized in every word and gesture, together with an extreme anxiety for approbation, and dread of censure. Chap. IV. § 2. OF ELOCUTION. 409 should become an accomplished actor, — pos- sessing the plastic power of putting himself, in imagination, so completely into the situation of him whom he personates, and of adopting, for the moment, so perfectly, all the senti- ments and views of that character, as to express himself exactly as such a person would have done, in the supposed situation. Few are likely to attain such perfection ; but he who shall have succeeded in accomplishing this, will have taken a most circuitous route to his proposed object, if that object be, not to qualify himself for the Stage, but to be able impressively to deliver in public, on real, and important occasions, his own sentiments. He will have been carefully learning to assume, what, when the real occasion occurs, need not be assumed, but only expressed. Nothing surely can be more preposterous than labour- ing to acquire the art of pretending to be, what he is not, and, to feel, what he does not, in order that he may be enabled, on a real emergency, to pretend to be and to feel just what the occasion itself requires and suggests: in short, to personate himself. The Barmecide, in the Arabian Nights, who amused himself by setting down his guest to an imaginary feast, and trying his skill in imitating, at an empty table, the actions of 410 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. eating and drinking, did not propose this as an advisable mode of instructing him how to perform those actions in reahty. Let all studied recitation therefore, — every kind of speaking which from its nature must necessarily be artificial, — be carefully avoided, by one whose object is to attain the only truly impressive, — the Natural Delivery. It should be observed, that the censure here pronounced on school-recitations, and all exer- cises of the like nature, relates, exclusively, to the effect produced on the style of Elocution. With any other objects that may be proposed, the present work has, obviously, no concern. Nor can it be doubted that a familiarity with the purest forms of the Latin and Greek languages, may be greatly promoted by com- mitting to memory, and studying, not only to understand, but to recite with propriety, the best orations and plays in those languages. The familiar knowledge too, and temporary adoption, of the characters and sentiments, for instance, of Terence's plays, can hardly fail to produce a powerful effect on the moral cha- racter. If the spectators of a play which strongly interests them are in any degree dis- posed (as the Poet expresses it) to " live o'er each scene, and be what they behold," much more may this be expected in the actor, who Chap. IV. § 2. OF ELOCUTION. 4 1 1 studies to give the fullest effect to his per- formance, by fancying himself, as far as pos- sible, the person he represents. If any one, therefore, is more anxious for his son's profi- ciency in the Latinity, and in the morality, of Terence, than for his excellence in public speaking, he is right in encouraging such exercises.* But let no one seek to attain a * To those who do wish their sons to imbibe the mo- rality of Terence, I have, of course, nothing more to say. But if there are any, as I must hope there are not a few, who would deprecate such a result, and who yet patronize the practice in question, I cannot but express my unfeigned wonder at their doing so. Can they doubt that some effect is likely to be produced on a young and unformed mind, forwarder in passions than in reason, by — not reading merely — not learning by heart merely — but studying as an actor, and striving to deliver tvith effect, the part of an accomplished debauchee ? And this too, such a character as Terence's poetical justice never fails to crown with success and applause. The foulest obscenity, such as would create disgust in any delicate mind, would probably be less likely to corrupt the principles, than the more gentleman-like profligacy, which is not merely represented, but recommended in Terence ; and which approaches but too nearly to what the youth may find exemplified among the higher classes in this country. Will it be answered, that because these same boys are taught to say their Catechism — are sent to Chapel — and are given to understand that they are not to take Pam- philus as a model, a sufficient safeguard is thus provided, against the effects of an assiduous effort to gain applause by a lively and spirited representation of such a character ? I can only reply, in the words of Thucydides, MAKAPI- 412 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. natural, simple, and forcible Elocution, by a practice which, the more he applies to it, will carry him still the farther from the object he aims at. What has been said may perhaps be con- sidered by some as applicable only in the case where the design is merely to qualify a man for extemporaneous speaking ; — not for delivering a written discourse with the effect of one that is actually extemporaneous. For it may be urged, that he who attempts this, must be, to a certain extent, an Actor : he may indeed really think, and strongly feel at the moment, all that he is saying ; but though, thus far, no disguise is needed, he cannot, without a dis- tinct effort, deliver what he is, in fact, reading, with the air of one who is not reading, but is framing each sentence as he delivers it : and to learn to do this, it may be said, practice is SANTES 'YMflN TO AHEIPOKAKON, OY ZHAOYMEN TO A*PON. lam aware that I run a risk of giving offence by these remarks ; but a sense of duty forbids their suppression. If the practice is capable of vindication, let it receive one : if not, let it be abolished. Let the experiment be tried, of placing in the hands of the Mothers of the boys, vi^hen they come to witness the exhibition, a close translation of the play their sons are acting. I will be satisfied to abide by the decision of the right-minded and judicious among them. Chap. IV. § 2. OF ELOCUTION. 413 requisite ; not such practice indeed as that of ordinary school-recitations, which has a di- rectly contrary tendency; but such as might be adopted, on the principles above laid down. And it must be admitted, (indeed the remark has been frequently made in the foregoing pages,) that the task of him who delivers a written discourse, is very different from that of the truly extemporary speaker, supposing the object be to produce at all a similar effect. For, as I have formerly observed, what has been here called the Natural Delivery, is that which is natural to the real Speaker alone ; and is by no means what will spontaneously sug- gest itself to one who has (even his own) written words before him. To attain the delivery I have been recommending, he must make a strong and continual effort so to with- draw his mind, not only from studied modu- lation of voice, but from the knowledge that he is reading, — and so to absorb himself, as it were, not only in the general sentiments, but in each separate expression, as to make it thoroughly his own at the moment of utter- ance. And I am far from supposing that in doing this he will not improve by practice ; indeed I have all along implied, that no one can expect at once to attain perfection in it. But whether any such system of recitation as 414 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. would afford beneficial practice could be adopted at schools, I am more doubtful. Supposing the established mode of spouting to be totally exploded, and every effort used to make a boy deliver a Speech of Csesar, for instance, or Lear, in the natural manner, i. e. according to the Masters view of what is natural, the learner himself will be reciting in a manner, to him, wholly artificial ; not merely because he is reading, or repeating from memory, what he is endeavouring to utter as if extempore ; — nor again, merely because the composition is another's, and the circum- stances fictitious ; but because the compo- sition, the situation, and the circumstances could not have been his own. A School- boy has no natural way of his own to express himself on the topics on which he is made to declaim ; because as yet these topics form no part of the furniture of his mind. And thus the object proposed, viz. to qualify him for delivering well, on real occasions, his own, or such as his own, written compositions, will have been defeated; and we shall have anticipated, and corrupted, by a studied elocu- tion, what would have been, in after-hfe, his own natural mode of expressing himself on such occasions. However serviceable practice may be, there Chap. IV. ^ 2, OF ELOCUTION. 415 is none, I think, that will not do more harm than good, except the practice of reciting, either on real occasions, or on such as one can fully conceive and enter into, expressions either actually his own, or at least such as he would naturally have uttered on the occasion. Should the School-boy be limited to the recitation of compositions of his own, or of a fellow-student, and that too, compositions not written as a task on a given subject, (on such subjects at least as are usually set for exer- cises,*) but on some real occasion interesting to a youthful mind, (a narrative e. g. of some recent occurrence, or the like,) a system of practice might perhaps be adopted which would prove beneficial. Such exercises as these, however, would make but a sorry display/, in comparison of the customary declamations. The "pomp and circumstance " of annual public recitations has much that is attractive to Masters, Parents, and Scholars ; and it is easily beheved, by those who wish to believe it, that for a boy who is destined hereafter to speak in public, the practice of making public speeches, and of taking great pains to deliver them well, must be a very beneficial exercise. * See Introd. § 5. Natural deli- very more easily heard. 416 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. § 3 The last circumstance to be noticed among the results of the mode of delivery recom- mended, is, that the speaker will find it much easier, in this Natural manner, to make himself heard: he will be heard, that is, much more distinctly, — at a greater distance, — and with far less exertion and fatigue to himself. This is the more necessary to be mentioned, because it is a common, if not a prevailing opinion, that the reverse of this is the fact. There are not a few who assign as a reason for their adoption of a certain unnatural tone and measured cadence, that it is necessary, in order to be heard by a large congregation. But though such an artificial voice and utter- ance will often appear to produce a louder sound J (which is the circumstance that probably deceives such persons,) yet a natural voice and delivery, provided it be clear, though it be less laboured, and may even seem low to those who are near at hand, will be distinctly heard at a much greater distance. The only decisive proof of this must be sought in expe- rience ; which will not fail to convince of the truth of it any one who will fairly make the trial. The requisite degree of loudness will be Chap. IV. § 3. OF ELOCUTION. 417 best obtained, conformably with the principles here inculcated, not by thinking about the voice, but by looking at the most distant of the hearers, and addressing one's self especially to him. The voice rises spontaneously, when we are speaking to a person who is not very near. It should be added, that a speaker's being well heard does not depend near so much on the loudness of the sounds, as on their distinct- ness ; and especially on the clear pronunciation of the consonants. That the organs of voice are much less strained and fatigued by the natural action which takes place in real speaking, than by any other, (besides that it is, what might be expected, a priori,) is evident from daily expe- rience. An extemporary Speaker will usually be much less exhausted in two hours, than an elaborate reciter (though less distinctly heard) will be, in one. Even the ordinary tone of reading aloud is so much more fatiguing than that of conversation, that feeble patients are frequently unable to continue it for a quarter of an hour without great exhaustion ; even though they may feel no inconvenience from talking, with few or no pauses, and in no lower voice, for more than double that time.* * " We can at will enlarge or diminish the area of the chest, and stop, accelerate, or retard the act of respiration. E E 418 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. § 4. Recapituia- Hg then who shall determine to aim at the tion of ad- dTsSn-'""^ Natural manner, though he will have to con- "*^" tend with considerable difficulties and discou- ragements, will not be without corresponding advantages, in the course he is pursuing. He will be at first, indeed, repressed to a greater degree than another, by emotions of bashfulness ; but it will be more speedily and more completely subdued ; the very system pursued, since it forbids all thoughts of self, striking at the root of the evil. He will, indeed, on the outset, incur censure, not only critical but moral ; — he will be blamed for using a colloquial delivery ; and the censure will very likely be, as far as relates to his earliest efforts, not wholly undeserved ; for his manner will probably at first too much resemble that of conversation, though of serious and earnest conversation : but by per- severance he may be sure of avoiding deserved, and of mitigating, and ultimately overcoming, undeserved, censure. He will, indeed, never be praised for a " very When we attend to our breathing, and regulate its rate, it quickly becomes fatiguing ; but the same happens with any voluntary and habitual action, if we attempt to perform it analytically, by directing the attention to every step in its progress." Mayo's Physiolof/y, p. 107. Chap. IV. ^4. OF ELOCUTION. 419 fine delivery ;" but his matter will not lose the approbation it may deserve ; as he will be the more sure of being heard and attended to. He will not, indeed, meet with many who can be regarded as models of the Natural manner ; and those he does meet with, he will be pre- cluded, by the nature of the system, from minutely imitating ; but he will have the ad- vantage of carrying with him an Infallible Guide, as long as he is careful to follow the suggestions of Nature ; abstaining from all thoughts respecting his own utterance, and fixing his mind intently on the business he is engaged in. And though he must not expect to attain perfection at once, he may be assured that, while he steadily adheres to this plan, he is in the right road to it ; instead of becoming, as on the other plan, more and more artificial, the longer he studies. And every advance he makes will produce a proportional effect : it will give him more and more of that hold on the attention, the understanding, and the feelings of the audience, which no studied modulation can ever attain. Others indeed may be more successful in escaping censure, and ensuring admiration ; but he will far more surpass them, in respect of the proper object of the Orator, which is, to carry his point, EE 2 420 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. §5. Much need not be said on the subject of Action, which is at present so Httle approved, or, designedly, employed, in this country, that it is hardly to be reckoned as any part of the Orator's art. Action, however, seems to be natural to man, when speaking earnestly : but the state of the case at present seems to be, that the disgust excited, on the one hand, by awkward and ungraceful motions, and, on the other, by studied gesticulations, has led to the general disuse of action altogether ; and has induced men to form the habit (for it certainly is a formed habit) of keeping themselves quite still, or nearly so, when speaking. This is supposed to be, and perhaps is, the more rational and dignified way of speaking : but so strong is the tendency to indicate vehement internal emotion by some kind of outward gesture, that those who do not encourage or allow them- selves in any, frequently fall unconsciously into some awkward trick of swinging the body,* * Of one of the ancient Roman Orators it was satirically remarked, (on account of his having this habit,) that he must have learned to speak in a boat. Of some other Orators, whose favourite action is rising on tiptoe, it would perhaps have been said, that they had been accustomed to address their audience over a hisjh wall. CiiAi- IV. §5. OF ELOCUTION. 421 folding a paper, twisting a string, or the like. But when any one is reading, or even speaking, in the Artificial manner, there is little or nothing of this tendency ; precisely, because _>J''y fj;.'^;*," the mind is not occupied by that strong internal '^'"'""^• emotion which occasions it. And the preva- lence of this (the artificial) manner may reason- ably be conjectured to have led to the disuse of all gesticulation, even in extemporary speakers ; because if any one, whose delivery is artificial, does use action, it will of course be, like his voice, studied and artificial ; and savouring still more of disgusting affectation ; from the circumstance that it evidently might be entirely omitted.* And hence, the practice came to be generally disapproved, and ex- ploded. It need only be observed, that, in conformity with the principles maintained throughout this Book, no care should, in any case, be taken to use graceful or appropriate action ; which, if not perfectly unstudied, will always be (as has been just remarked) intolerable. But if any one spontaneously falls into any gestures that are unbecoming, care should then be taken to * " Gratas inter mensas symphonia discors, Et crassum ungnentum, et Sardo cum rnelle papaner Offcndunt ; poterat duci quia crona sine istis." Horace, Ars Poet. 422 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. break the habit ; and that, not only in pubhc speaking, but on all occasions. The case, indeed, is the same with utterance : if any one has, in common discourse, an indistinct, hesi- tating, dialectic, or otherwise faulty delivery, his Natural manner certainly is not what he should adopt in public speaking ; but he should endeavour, by care, to remedy the defect, not in public speaking only, but in ordinary con- versation also. And so also, with respect to attitudes and gestures. It is in these points, principally, if not exclusively, that the remarks of an intelligent friend will be beneficial. If, again, any one finds himself naturally and spontaneously led to use, in speaking, a mode- rate degree of action, which he finds from the observation of others not to be ungraceful or inappropriate, there is no reason that he should study to repress this tendency. §. 6. Action na- It would bc iucousisteut with the principle turally pre- just laid down, to deliver any precepts for gesture : because the observance of even the best conceivable precepts, would, by destroying the natural appearance, be fatal to their object : but there is a remark, which is worthy of attention, from the illustration it affords of the erroneousness, in detail, as well as in cedes the words. Chap. IV. § 6. OF ELOCUTION. 423 principle, of the ordinary systems of instruc- tion in this point. Boys are generally taught to employ the prescribed action either after, or during the utterance of the words it is to enforce. The best and most appropriate action must, from this circumstance alone, necessarily appear a feeble affectation. It suggests the idea of a person speaking to those who do not fully understand the lan- guage, and striving by signs to explain the meaning of what he has been saying. The very same gesture, had it come at the proper, that is, the natural, point of time, might perhaps have added greatly to the effect ; viz. had it preceded somewhat the utterance of the words. That is always the natural order of action. An emotion,* struggling for utter- ance, produces a tendency to a bodily gesture, to express that emotion more quickly than words can be framed ; the words follow, as soon as they can be spoken. And this being always the case with a real, earnest, unstudied speaker, this mode of placing the action foremost, gives (if it be otherwise appropriate) *' Format enim Natura prius nos intus ad omnem Fortunarum hahitum ; juvat, aut impellit ad iram Aul ad Immum mcerore gravi dedueit, et angit : Vast effert animi motus interpretc lingua." Horace, Ars Poet. 424 ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC. Part IV. the appearance of earnest emotion actually present in the mind. And the reverse of this natural order would alone be sufficient to convert the action of Demosthenes himself into unsuccessful and ridiculous mimicry. APPENDIX. APPENDIX. Page 51. [A.] " there is a distinction to be made between the unnatural a.nd the merely improbable: a fiction is unna- tural when there is some assignable reason against the events taking place as described, — when men are repre- sented as acting contrary to the character assigned them, or to human nature in general ; as when a young lady of seventeen, brought up in ease, luxury, and retirement, with no companions but the narrow-minded and illiterate^ displays (as a heroine usually does) under the most trying circumstances, such wisdom, fortitude, and knowledge of the world, as the best instructors and the best examples can rarely produce without the aid of more mature age and longer experience. — On the other hand, a fiction is still improbable, though not unnatural, when there is no reason to be assigned why things should not take place as represented, except that the overbalance of chances is against it ; the hero meets, in his utmost distress, most opportunely, with the very person to whom he had for- merly done a signal service, and who happens to commu- nicate to him a piece of intelligence which sets all to rights. Why should he not meet him as well as any one else ? all that can be said is, that there is no reason why he should. The infant who is saved from a wreck, and who afterwards 428 APPENDIX. becomes such a constellation of virtues and accomplish- ments, turns out to be no other than the nephew of the very gentleman on whose estate the waves had cast him, and whose lovely daughter he had so long sighed for in vain : there is no reason to be given, except from the calculation of chances, why he should not have been thrown on one part of the coast as well as another. Nay, it would be nothing unnatural, though the most deter- mined novel-reader would be shocked at its improbability, if all the hero's enemies, while they were conspiring his ruin, were to be struck dead together by a lucky flash of lightning : yet many denouements which are decidedly unnatural, are better tolerated than this would be. We shall, perhaps, best explain our meaning by examples, taken from a novel of great merit in many respects. When Lord Glenthorn, in whom a most unfavourable education has acted on a most unfavourable disposition, after a life of torpor, broken only by short sallies of forced exertion, on a sudden reverse of fortune, displays at once the most persevering diligence in the most repulsive studies and in middle life, without any previous habits of exertion, any hope of early business, or the example of friends, or the stimulus of actual want, to urge him, outstrips every competitor, though every competitor has every advantage against him ; this is unnatural. — When Lord Glenthorn, the instant he is stripped of his estates, meets, falls in love with, and is conditionally accepted by, the very lady who is remotely entitled to those estates ; when the instant he has fulfilled the conditions of their marriage, the family of the person possessed of the estates becomes extinct, and by the concurrence of circumstances, against every one of which the chances were enormous, the hero is re-instated in all his old domains ; this is APPENDIX. 429 merely improbable. The distinction which we have been pointing out may be plainly perceived in the events of real life; when any thing takes place of such a nature as we should call, in a fiction, merely improbable, because there are many chances against it, we call it a lucky or unlucky accident, a singular coincidence, something very extra- ordinary, odd, curious, &c. ; whereas any thing which, in a fiction, would be called unnatural, when it actually occurs, (and such things do occur,) is still called unna- tural, inexplicable, unaccountable, inconceivable, &c. epi- thets which are not applied to events that have merely the balance of chances against them." Quarterly/ Review, No. xlviii. pp. 354, 355. Page 83, [B.] " Analogy does not mean the similarity of two tilings, but the similarity, or sameness, of two relations. There must be more than two things to give rise to two relations : there must be at least three ; and in most cases there are four. Thus A may be like B, but there is no analogy between A and B : it is an abuse of the word to speak so, and it leads to much confusion of thought. If A has the same relation to B which C has to D, then there is an analogy. If the first relation be well known, it may serve to explain the second, which is less known : and the transfer of name from one of the terms in the relation best known to its corresponding term in the other, causes no confusion, but on the contrary tends to remind us of the similarity that exists in these relations ; and so assists the mind instead of misleading it. " In this manner things most unlike and discordant in 430 APPENDIX. their nature may be strictly analogous to one another. Thus a certain proposition may be called the basis of a system. The proposition is to the system what the basis is to a building. It serves a similar office and purpose : and this last relation being well known is of use to illus- trate the other which was less known. E. G. The system rests upon it: it is useless to proceed with the argument till this is well established : if this were removed, the system must fall. The only cautions requisite in the use of this kind of analogy are, first, not to proceed to a comparison of the corresponding terms as they are intrin- sically in themselves or in their own nature, but merely as they are in relation to the other terms respectively ; and, SECONDLY, not to prcsumc that because the relation is the same or similar in one or two points, therefore it is the same or similar in all. " The FIRST of these errors cannot be committed in the instance before us, because the two things are of such different natures that they have no one point of resem- blance. But when the first and the third term are not only corresponding in relation, but chance also to be of a kindred nature, or when, from the circumstance of one being visible and the other invisible, their discrepancies do not strike us, it often happens that a comparison is pursued between the things themselves, and this is one cause of the promiscuous use of the terms similitude and analogy. As for example, when Locke, having once established the comparison, proceeds to talk of Ideas as if they were really images in the mind, or traces in the brain. " It is from observing this tendency in men to regard the metaphorical or analogous name as bringing along with it something of the nature of the thing it originally signified, that Mr. Stewart is led to make the remark not APPENDIX. 431 less original than just, that it is well for the understand- ing, though it may be a loss to the fancy, when a meta- phorical word has lost its pedigree * — that is, when it no longer excites the primary idea denoted by it, and is re- duced by custom to a plain and direct appellation in its secondary sense. He suggests also t with equal ingenuity, in cases where words have not yet been worn down to this use, the expedient of varying our metaphor when speaking of the same subject, as a preservative against this danger- ous and encroaching error. Of the utility of this practice I have no doubt : and I think it may be regarded as an advantage of the same kind, that the parables of the New Testament are drawn from such a great diversity of ob- jects, as to check the propensity in man, especially in mat- ters of religion, to attach some mystical character to the images so employed, and to look upon them as emblems possessing an intrinsic virtue, or at least a secret affinity with those spiritual truths, to the illustration of which they are made subservient. •'When the points in which the similarity of relation holds are of secondary importance — when instead of being essential and characteristic, they are slight and superficial — the analogy is often called a metaphor, and often a simi- * Philosophical Essays, Ess. v. chap. 3. t Ibid. In the analysis here given of analogy, it will be perceived by those who are conversant with Mr. Stewart's writings, that I have ventured to depart widely from his use of the word. Indeed M. Prevot's etymology, as given in a j)assage quoted with approbation by Mr. Stewart, vol. ii. chap. iv. § 4. appears to me quite erroneous. ' Le mot Analogic, dans Vorigine, n'exprime que la ressemblance.' The reverse of which I take to be the fact. But this is not the i)lace for entering farther into the discussion. iS2 APPENDIX. litude, as being addressed rather to the fancy than to the judgment, and intended rather to adorn and illustrate, than to explain. But it would perhaps be better to avoid the name similitude in these cases, and to regard them as being, what they really are, ajialogies, although subsisting in points of inferior moment. " Thus when the swallow is called the herald of summer, or a ship is said to plough the waves, it is easy to resolve the phrase into the form of analogy or proportion : the swallow is to the summer what the herald is to his prince ; he announces his approach. So the action of a ship is to the sea, what the action of a plough is to the land. But because in these cases the relation is fanciful rather than real, that is, it consists not in essential points but in mere circumstances of inferior importance, we leave such things to the province of taste or amusement, and no considerate man ever attempts to reason from them. ' I am not of the mind of those speculators,' said Mr. Burke, ' who seem assured that all states have the same period of infancy, manhood, and decrepitude, that are found in individuals. Parallels of this sort rather furnish similitudes to illustrate or to adorn, than supply analogies from whence to reason. The objects which are attempted to be forced into an analogy are not found in the same classes of existence. Individuals are physical beings — commonwealths are not physical but moral essences *.' " A remarkable example of this kind is that argument of Toplady against free-will, who, after quoting the text. Ye also as lively stones are built up a spiritual house -f, triumphantly exclaims, * This is giving free-will a stab * Letters on a Regicide Peace, p. 4. f \ Pet. ii. 5. APPENDIX. 433 under the fifth rib : for can stones hew themselves, and build themselves in a regular house V * " Even when we attribute to inanimate things the qua- lities of animals, the same analysis may be adopted as before. Thus the rage of the sea denotes a similarity of effect to the effect of rage in animals. This is even more the work of fancy than the example before given : for in reducing it to the form of a proportion, one term is wholly supplied by the imagination. We do not really believe there is a principle in the sea producing these effects, an- swering to rage in animals, but the imagination suggests such a principle, and transfers the name of rage to it. " In those cases where the analogy is traced between things perfectly/ heterogeneous there is little danger of con- founding the idea with that of similitude. But when the subjects we are comparing are of a kindred nature, so that the things spoken of not only stand in the same relation, but also bear a close resemblance to each other, then it is we are most apt to confound them together, and to substi- tute resemblance for analogy. Thus because the heart or the tooth of an animal not only serves the same office to the animal that the heart or the tooth of a man does to him, but is also an object very nearly resembling it in structure and outward appearance, we are apt to imagine that the same name is given to it solely on this last ac- count. But if we pursue the inquiry throughout the animal creation, we shall find that the form of the corre- sponding parts is infinitely varied, although the analogy remains the same : till at length we arrive at such diver- sities, that it is only persons conversant with comparative * Christian and Plnlosopliical Necessity Asserted, p. 56. F F 434 APPENDIX. anatomy who can readily detect the analogy. And long before the difference has reached this length in popular discourse the analogical name is dropped, and the scientific use of it in such cases sounds pedantic to unlearned ears. Thus the beak of a bird answers to the tooth of man, and the shell of a lobster to the bones of other animals. If the use and office remain the same, no diversity of form im- pairs the analogy : but we ought from such examples to learn even when similitude of form does exist, not to regard it as the true ground of the comparison we make, and of our affixing the same name. " Thus too when we speak of qualities of things which are not cognizable by our senses except in their effects, we bestow the same name on account of a real or supposed analogy, not on account of any similarity in the qualities themselves, which may or may not exist according as the tilings we speak of are more or less of a kindred nature. Sagacity, courage, fidelity, love, jealousy, revenge, are all predicated of brute animals not less than of man, although they are not things or existences in themselves, but certain attributes or affections in them, exhibiting symptoms and producing effects corresponding with the symptoms and effects attendant upon those qualities in ourselves. In these instances, still more than in the former, we are prone to confound analogy with resemblance — because as these things have no form or existence of their own — as the whole essence of them consists in their relation to something else — if the relations be alike, the things are necessarily alike, and we naturally slide into that form of speaking which makes no distinction between analogy and resemblance : but even then we regard the qualities as iden- tical, only in proportion as the nature of the respective sub- jects to which they belong may be regarded as the same. APPENDIX. 435 "The SECOND error above noticed a^ carefully to be avoided in the use of analogy is, when we do not indeed treat the corresponding terms as resembling one another in their own nature, but when we presume that a similarity of relation subsists in other points besides those which are the foundation of the analogy. " When the analogy consists in slight or superficial cir- cumstances, still more when it is fanciful only, no attempt whatever should be made to reason from it ; as was exem- plified in the passage produced from Burke's writings: but even when the analogy is solid and well-founded we are liable to fall into error, if we suppose it to extend farther than it really does. Errors of this nature are often committed by men of lively fancies, or of ardent minds, and they are the more seducing because they set out not only with a shew of reason, but with reason and truth actually on their side. " Thus because a just analogy has been discerned be- tween the metropolis of a country, and the heart in the animal body, it has been sometimes contended that its increased size is a disease — that it may impede some of its most important functions — or even be the means of its dissolution. " Another frequent example of this second error is found in the use of the same titles of office or dignity in different nations or in distant times. Although the relation de- noted by them be the same in one or in several important particulars, yet it scarcely ever holds throughout ; and the most false notions are in consequence entertained by people of the nature of these corresponding offices in every coun- try but their own. We have known what mischief has been produced by the adoption of the phrase, * servant of the people,' although it cannot be denied that in some ff2 4S6 APPENDIX. points the duty of the magistrate is the same as the duty of a servant — that his time, for instance, his thouglits, his abiUties, should be devoted to the benefit of the people — and again, on the other hand, because the duty of a sub- ject towards his sovereign coincides in many respects with the duty of a child towards his parent, some speculative writers have hastily concluded that the institution of monarchy is equally founded in nature, and possesses the same inherent authority with the parental." Coplestons Four Discourses on the Doctrines of Necessity and Pre- destination, note to Disc. III. p. 122 — 130. Page 122, [C] " Theirs" (the New-Testament-writers) " is a history of miracles ; the historical picture of the scene in which the Spirit of God was poured on all flesh, and signs and won- ders, visions and dreams, were part of the essentials of their narratives. How is all this related? With the same absence of high colouring and extravagant description with which other writers notice the ordinary occurrences of the world : partly no doubt for the like reason, that they were really familiar with miracles; partly too because to them these miracles had long been contemplated only as sub- servient measures to the great object and business of their ministry — the salvation of men's souls. On the subject of miracles, the means to this great end, they speak in calm, unimpassioned language ; on man's sins, change of heart, on hope, faith, and charity ; on the objects in short to be effected, they exhaust all their feelings and eloquence. Their history, from the narrative of our Lord's persecu- tions to those of Paul, the abomination of the Jews, APPENDIX. 437 embraces scenes and personages which claim from the ordinary reader a continual effusion of sorrow or wonder, or indignation. In writers who were friends of the parties, and adherents of the cause for which they did and suffered so great things, the absence of it is on ordinary grounds inconceivable. Look at the account even of the crucifixion. Not one burst of indignation or sympathy mixes with the details of the narrative. Stephen the first martyr is stoned, and the account comprised in these few words, "they stoned Stephen calling upon God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." The varied and immense labours and sufferings of the apostles are slightly hinted at, or else related in this dry and frigid way. " And when they had called the apostles, and beaten them, they commanded that they should not speak in the name of Jesus, and let them go."'* "And there came thither certain Jews from Antioch and Iconium, who persuaded the people, and having stoned Paul, drew him out of the city, supposing he had been dead. Howbeit, as the disciples stood round about him, he rose up, and came into the city ; and the next day he departed with Barnabas to Derbe."f Had these authors no feeling? Had their mode of life bereaved them of the common sympathies and sen- sibilities of human nature? Read such passages as St. Paul's parting address to the elders of Miletus ; the same apostle's recommendation of the offending member of the Corinthian Church to pardon ; and, more than all, the occasional bursts of conflicting feeling, in which anxious apprehension for the faith and good behaviour of his converts is mixed with the pleasing recollection of their conversion, and the minister and the man are alike strongly • Acts V. 40, 41. t Acts xiv. U>, 20. 438 APPENDIX. displayed ; and it will be plain that Christianity exercised no benumbing influence on the heart. No: their whole soul was occupied with one object, which predominated over all the means subservent to it, however great those means might be. In the storm, the pilot's eye is fixed on the headland which must be weathered ; in the crisis of victory or defeat, the general sees only the position to he carried ; and the dead and the instruments of death fall around him unheeded. On the salvation of men, on this one point, the witnesses of Christ and the ministers of his Spirit, expended all their energy of feeling and expression. All that occurred — mischance, persecution, and miracle — were glanced at by the eye of faith only in subserviency to this mark of the prize of their high calling, as working together for good, and all exempt from the associations which would attach to such events and scenes, when contemplated by themselves, and with the short-sightedness of uninspired men. Miracles were not to them objects of wonder, nor mischances a subject of sorrow and lamentation. They did all, they sufl'ered all, to the glory of God." Lon- don Review, No. II. p. 345. Page 191, [D.] " First, as to proximity of time, every one knows, that any melancholy incident is the more affecting that it is recent. Hence it is become common with story-tellers, that they may make a deeper impression on the hearers, to introduce remarks like these: that the tale which they relate is not old, that it happened but lately, or in their own time, or that they are yet living who had a part in it, or were witnesses of it. Proximity of time regards not APPENDIX. 439 only the past, but the future. An event that will probably soon happen, hath greater influence upon us than what will probably happen a long time hence. I have hitherto proceeded on the hypothesis, that the orator rouses the passions of his hearers, by exhibiting some past trans- action ; but we must acknowledge that passion may be as strongly excited by his reasonings concerning an event yet to come. In the judiciary orations there is greater scope for the former, in the deliberative, for the latter: though in each kind there may occasionally be scope for both. All the seven circumstances enumerated are applicable, and have equal weight, whether they relate to the future or to the past. The only exception that I know of is, that probability and plausibility are scarcely distinguish- able, when used in reference to events in futurity. As in these there is no access for testimony, what constitutes the principal distinction is quite excluded. In comparing the influence of the past upon our minds with that of the future, it appears in general, that if the evidence, the importance, and the distance of the objects, be equal, the latter will be greater than the former. The reason, I imagine, is, we are conscious, that as every moment, the future, which seems placed before us, is approaching; and the past, which lies, as it were, behind, is retiring ; our nearness or relation to the one constantly increaseth as the other decreaseth. There is something like attraction in the first case, and repulsion in the second. This tends to interest us more in the future than in the past, and con- sequently to the present view aggrandizes the one, and diminishes the other. " What, nevertheless, gives the past a very considerable advantage, is its being generally susceptible of much stronger evidence than the future. The lights of the 440 APPENDIX. mind are, if I may so express myself, in an opposite situation to the lights of the body. These discover clearly the prospect lying before us, but not the ground we have already passed. By the memory, on the contrary, that great luminary of the mind, things past are exhibited in retrospect ; we have no correspondent faculty to irradiate the future : and even in matters which fall not within the reach of our memory, past events are often clearly dis- coverable by testimony, and by effects at present existing ; whereas we have nothing equivalent to found our arguments upon in reasoning about things to come. It is for this rea- son that the future is considered as the province of conjecture and uncertainty. " Local Connexion, the fifth in the above enumeration, hath a more powerful effect than proximity of time. Du- ration and space are two things (call them entities, or attributes, or what you please) in some respects the most like, and in some respects the most unlike, to one another. They resemble in continuity, divisibility, infinity, in their being deemed essential to the existence of other things, and in the doubts that have been raised as to their having a real or independent existence of their own. They differ in that the latter is permanent, whereas the very essence of the former consisteth in transitoriness ; the parts of the one are all successive, of the other all co-existent. The greater portions of time are all distinguished by the me- morable things which have been transacted in them, the smaller portions by the revolutions of the heavenly bodies : the portions of place, great and small, (for we do not here consider the regions of the fixed stars and planets,) are distinguished by the various tracts of land and water, into which the earth is divided and subdivided ; the one dis- tinction intelligible, the other sensible ; the one chiefly APPENDIX. 441 known to the inquisitive, the other in a great measure obvious to all. " Hence perhaps it arises, that the latter is considered as a firmer ground of relation than the former. Who is not more curious to know the notable transactions which have happened in his own country from the earliest antiquity, than to be acquainted with those which have happened in the remotest regions of the globe during the century wherein he lives ? It must be owned, however, that the former circumstance is more frequently aided by that of personal relation than the latter. Connexion of place not only includes vicinage, but every other local relation, such as being in a province under the same government with us, in a state that is in alliance with us, in a country well known to us, and the like. Of the influence of this con- nexion in operating on our passions we have daily proofs. With how much indifference, at least with how slight and transient emotion, do we read in newspapers the accounts of the most deplorable accidents in countries distant and unknown ? How much, on the contrary, are we alarmed and agitated on being informed that any such accident hath happened in our own neighbourhood, and that, even though we be totally unacquainted with the persons con- cerned ? " Still greater is the power of relation to the persons concerned, which was the sixth circumstance mentioned, as this tie is more direct than that which attacheth us to the scene of action. It is the persons, not the place, that are the immediate objects of the passions love or hatred, pity or anger, envy or contempt. Relation to the actors commonly produces an effect contrary to that produced by relation to the sufferers, the first in extenuation, the second in aggravation, of the crime alleged. The first makes 442 APPENDIX. for the apologist, the second for the accuser. This, I say, is commonly the case, not always. A remote relation to the actors, when the offence is heinous, especially if the sufferers be more nearly related, will sometimes rather aggravate than extenuate the guilt in our estimation. But it is impossible with any precision to reduce these effects to rules ; so much depending on the different tempers and sentiments of different audiences. Personal relations are of various kinds. Some have generally greater influence than others ; some again have greater influence with one person, others with another. They are consanguinity, affinity, friendship, acquaintance, being fellow-citizens, countrymen, of the same surname, language, religion, oc- cupation, and innumerable others. " But of all the connexive circumstances, the most pow- erful is interest^ which is the last. Of all relations, personal relation, by bringing the object very near, most enlivens that sympathy which attaches us to the concerns of others ; interest in the effects brings the object, if I may say so, into contact with us, and makes the mind cling to it, as a concern of its own. Sympathy is but a reflected feeling, and therefore, in ordinary cases, must be weaker than the original. Though the mirror be ever so true, a lover will not be obliged to it for presenting him with the figure of his mistress, when he hath an oppor- tunity of gazing on her person. Nor will the orator place his chief confidence in the assistance of the social and sym- pathetic affections, when he hath it in his power to arm the selfish. " Men universally, from a just conception of the differ- ence, have, when self is concerned, given a different name to what seems originally the same passion in a higher degree. Injury, to whomsoever offered, is to every man APPENDIX. 443 that observes it, and whose sense of right is not debauched by vicious practice, the natural object of indignation. Indignation always implies resentment, or a desire of retaliating on the injurious person, so far at least as to make him repent the wrong he hath committed. This indignation in the person injured, is, from our knowledge of mankind, supposed to be, not indeed universally, but generally so much stronger, that it ought to be distin- guished by another appellation, and is accordingly de- nominated revenge. In like manner, beneficence, on whomsoever exercised, is the natural object of our love ; love always implies benevolence^ or a desire of promoting the happiness of the beneficent person ; but this passion in the person benefited is conceived to be so much greater, and to infer so strong an obligation to a return of good offices to his benefactor, that it merits to be distinguished by the title gratitude. Now by this circumstance of interest in the effects, the speaker, from engaging pity in his favour, can proceed to operate on a more powerful principle, self- preservation. The benevolence of his hearers he can work up into gratitude, their indignation into revenge. " The two last-mentioned circumstances, personal rela- tion and interest, are not without influence, as was hinted in the enumeration, though they regard the speaker only, and not the hearers. The reason is, a person present with us, whom we see and hear, and who by words, and looks, and gestures, gives the liveliest signs of his feelings, has the surest and most immediate claim upon our sympathy. We become infected with his passions. We are hurried along by them, and not allowed leisure to distinguish between his relation and our relation, his interest and our interest." Campbell's Rhetoric, pp. 184 — 190. (b. i. ciiap. 7. §. 5. parts 4, 5, 6, 7. 444 APPENDIX. Page 193, [E.] A good illustration of what has been said is supplied by the following extract from Mr. Milman's Bampton Lec- tures, (Lecture VI. p. 269.) " Conceive then the apostles of Jesus Christ, the tentraaker or the fisherman, entering, as strangers into one of the splendid cities of Syria, Asia Minor, or Greece. Conceive them, 1 mean, as unendowed with miraculous powers, having adopted their itinerant system of teaching from human motives, and for human purposes alone. As they pass along to the remote and obscure quarter, where they expect to meet with precarious hospitality among their countrymen, they survey the strength of the established religion, which it is their avowed purpose to overthrow. Every where they behold temples, on which the utmost extravagance of expenditure has been lavished by succeeding generations ; idols of the most exquisite workmanship, to which, even if the religious feeling of adoration is enfeebled, the people are strongly attached by national or local vanity. They meet pro- cessions, in which the idle find perpetual occupation, the young excitement, the voluptuous a continual stimulant to their passions. They behold a priesthood, numerous, sometimes wealthy ; nor are these alone wedded by interest to the established faith ; many of the trades, like those of the makers of silver shrines in Ephesus, are pledged to the support of that to which they owe their maintenance. They pass a magnificent theatre, on the splendour and success of which the popularity of the existing authorities mainly depends ; and in which the serious exhibitions are essentially religious, the lighter, as intimately con- nected with the indulgence of the baser passions. They behold another public building, where even worse feelings, APPENDIX. 445 the cruel and the sanguinary, are pampered by the ani- mating contests of wild beasts and of gladiators, in which they themselves may shortly play a dreadful part, Butcher'd to make a Roman holyday ! Show and spectacle are the characteristic enjoyments of the whole people, and every show and spectacle is either sacred to the religious feelings, or incentive to the lusts of the flesh ; those feelings which must be entirely eradicated, those lusts which must be brought into total subjection to the law of Christ. They encounter likewise itinerant jugglers, diviners, magicians, who impose upon the credulous, and excite the contempt of the enlightened ; in the first case, dangerous rivals to those who should attempt to propagate a new faith by imposture and deception ; in the latter, naturally tending to prejudice the mind against all miracu- lous pretensions whatever : here, like Elymas, endeavouring to outdo the signs and wonders of the apostles ; there throw- ing suspicion on all asserted supernatural agency, by the frequency and clumsiness of their delusions. They meet philosophers, frequently itinerant like themselves ; or teachers of new religions, priests of Isis and Serapis, M^ho have brought into equal discredit what might other- wise have appeared a proof of philanthropy, the performing laborious journeys at the sacrifice of personal ease and comfort for the moral and religious improvement of man- kind ; or at least have so accustomed the public mind to similar pretensions, as to take away every attraction from their boldness or novelty. There are also the teachers of the different mysteries, which would engross all the anxiety of the inquisitive, perhaps excite, even if they did not satisfy, the hopes of the more pure and lofty minded. Such must have been among the obstacles which would 446 APPENDIX. force themselves on the calmer moments of the most ardent; such the overpowering difficulties, of which it would be impossible to overlook the importance, or elude the force ; which required no sober calculation to esti- mate, no laborious inquiry to discover; which met and confronted them wherever they went, and which, either in desperate presumption, or deliberate reliance on their own preternatural powers, they must have contemned and defied. " The commencement of their labours was usually dis- heartening, and ill calculated to keep alive the flame of ungrounded enthusiasm. They begin their operations in the narrow and secluded synagogue of their own country- men. The novelty of their doctrine, and curiosity, secure them at first a patient attention ; but as the more offensive tenets are developed, the most fierce and violent passions are awakened. Scorn and hatred are seen working in the clouded brows and agitated countenances of the leaders: if here and there one is pricJced to the heart, it requires considerable moral courage to acknowledge his conviction ; and the new teachers are either cast forth from the in- dignant assembly of their own people, liable to all the punishments which they are permitted to inflict, scourged and beaten ; or, if they succeed in forming a party, they give rise to a furious schism ; and thus appear before the heathen with the dangerous notoriety of having caused a violent tumult, and broken the public peace by their turbu- lent and contentious harangues : at all events, disclaimed by that very people on whose traditions they profess to build their doctrines, and to whose Scriptures they appeal in jus- tification of their pretensions. They endure, they persevere, they continue to sustain the contest against Judaism and paganism. It is still their deliberate, ostensible, and APPENDIX. 4:il avowed object to overthrow all this vast system of idolatry : to tear up by the roots all ancient prejudices ; to silence shrines, sanctified by the veneration of ages as oracular ; to consign all those gorgeous temples to decay, and all those images to contempt ; to wean the people from every barbarous and dissolute amusement." ******** ** But in one respect it is impossible now to conceive the extent, to which the apostles of the crucified Jesus shocked all the feelings of mankind. The public esta- blishment of Christianity, the adoration of ages, the reve- rence of nations, has thrown around the cross of Christ an indelible and inalienable sanctity. No effort of the ima- gination can dissipate the illusion of dignity which has gathered round it ; it has been so long dissevered from all its coarse and humiliating associations, that it cannot be cast back and desecrated into its state of opprobrium and contempt. To the most daring unbeliever among ourselves, it is the symbol, the absurd, and irrational, he may conceive, but still the ancient and venerable symbol of a powerful and influential religion : what was it to the Jew and to the heathen? the basest, the most degrading punishment of the lowest criminal ! the proverbial terror of the wretched slave ! it was to them, what the most despicable and revolting instrument of public execution is to us* Yet to the cross of Christ, men turned from deities in which were embodied every attribute of strength, power, and dignity ; in an incredibly short space of time, multitudes gave up the splendour, the pride, and the power of paganism, to adore a Being who was thus hu- miliated beneath the meanest of mankind, who had become, according to the literal interpretation of the prophecy, a very scorn of men, and an outcast of the people,' Ibid. p. 279. 448 APPENDIX. Page 200, [F.] " Such is 0U7' yoke and our burden ! Let him, \\\\o has thought it too hard and too heavy to bear, be prepared to state it boldly when he shall appear side by side with the poor and mistaken Indian before the throne of God at the day of judgment. The poor heathen may come forward with his wounded limbs and weltering body, saying, ' I thought thee an austere master, delighting in the miseries of thy creatures, and I have accordingly brought thee the torn remnants of a body which I have tortured in thy service.* And the Chi-istian will come forward, and say, * I knew that thou didst die to save me from such suf- ferings and torments, and that thou only commandest me to keep my body in temperance, soberness, and chastity, and I thought it too hard for me ; and I have accordingly brought thee the refuse and sweepings of a body that has been corrupted and brutalized in the service of profligacy and drunkenness, — even the body which thou didst de- clare should be the temple of thy Holy Spirit.' The poor Indian will, perhaps, shew his hands, reeking with the blood of his children, saying, ' I thought this was the sacrifice with which God was well pleased:' and you, the Christian, will come forward with blood upon thy hands also, ' I knew that thou gavest thy Son for my sacrifice, and commandedst me to lead my offspring in the way of everlasting life ; but the command was too hard for me, to teach them thy statutes and to set them my humble example : I have let them go the broad way to destruction, and their blood is upon my hand — and my heart — and my head.' The Indian will come forward, and say, ' Behold, I am come from the wood, the desert, and the wilderness, where I fled from the cheerful society of my fellow mortals, APPENDIX. 449 because I thought it was pleasing in thy sight.' And the Christian will come forward, and say, * Behold, I come from my comfortable home and the communion of my brethren, which thou hast graciously permitted me to enjoy ; but I thought it too hard to give them a share of those blessings which thou hast bestowed upon me ; I thought it too hard to give them a portion of my time, my trouble, my fortune, or my interest ; I thought it too hard to keep my tongue from cursing and reviling, my heart from hatred, and my hand from violence and re- venge.' What will be the answer of the Judge to the poor Indian, none can presume to say. That he was sadly mistaken in the means of salvation, and that what he had done could never purchase him everlasting life, is beyond a doubt; but yet the Judge may say, "Come unto me, thou heavy-laden, and I will give thee the rest which thou couldst not purchase for thyself." But, to the Christian, *' Thou, who hadst my easy yoke, and my light burden ; thou, for whom all was already purchased," Thank God ! it is not yet pronounced : — begone ! and fly for thy life !" Wolfe s Sermons (Rematjis), Sermon X. pp. 371—373, " Suppose it were suddenly revealed to any one among you that he, and he alone of all that walk upon the face of this earth, was destined to receive the benefit of his Redeemer's atonement, and that all the rest of mankind was lost — and lost to all eternity ; it is hard to say what would be the first sensation excited in that man's mind by the intelligence. It is indeed probable it would be joy — to think that all his fears respecting his eternal destiny were now no more ; that all the forebodings of the mind and misgivings of the heart — all the solemn stir which we feel G G 450 APPENDIX. rising within us whenever we look forward to a dark futurity, — to feel that all these had now subsided for ever, — to know that he shall stand in the everlasting sunshine of the love of God ! It is perhaps impossible that all this should not call forth an immediate feeling of delight: but if you wish the sensation to continue, you must go to the wilderness ; you must beware how you come within sight of a human being, or within sound of a human voice ; you must recollect that you are now alone upon the earth ; or, if you want society, you had better look for it among the beasts of the field than among the ruined species to which you belong ; unless indeed the Almighty, in pity to your desolation, should send his angels before the appointed time, that you might learn to forget in their society the outcast objects of your former sympathies. But to go abroad into human society, — to walk amongst Beings who are now no longer your fellow- creatures, — to feel the charity of your common nature rising in your heart, and to have to crush it within you like a sin, — to reach forth your hand to perform one of the common kindnesses of humanity, and to find it withered by the recollection, that however you may mitigate a present pang, the everlasting pang is irreversible ; to turn away in despair from these children whom you have now come to bless and to save (we hope and trust both here and for ever) ! — perhaps it would be too much for you ; at all events, it would be hard to state a degree of exertion within the utmost range of human energy, or a degree of pain within the farthest limit of human endurance, to which you would not submit, that you might have one companion on your lonely way from this world to the mansions of happiness. But suppose, at that moment, that the angel who brought the first intelligence returns to tell APPENDIX. 451 you that there are Beings upon this earth who may yet be saved, — that he was before mistaken, no matter how, — perhaps he was your guardian angel, and darted from the throne of grace with the inteUigence of your salvation without waiting to hear the fate of the rest of mankind, — no matter how, — but he comes to tell you that there are Beings upon the earth who are within the reach of your Redeemer's love, and of your own, — that some of them are now before you, and their everlasting destiny is placed in your hands ; then, what would first occur to your mind ? — privations, — dangers, — difficulties ? No : but you would say. Lord, what shall I do ? shall I traverse earth and sea, through misery and torment, that of those whom thou hast given me I may not lose one ?" Ibid. Serm. XI. pp. 391—393. Page 256, [G.] In Dr. Campbell's ingenious dissertation {Rhetoric, book ii. eh. vii.) " on the causes that nonsense often escapes being detected, both by the writer and the reader," he remarks, (sec. 2.) that " there are particularly three sorts of writing wherein we are liable to be imposed upon by words without meaning." " The first is, where there is an exuberance of metaphor. Nothing is more certain than that this trope, when tem- perately and appositely used, serves to add light to the expression, and energy to the sentiment. On the contrary, when vaguely and intemperately used, nothing can serve more effectually to cloud the sense, where there is sense, and by consequence to conceal the defect, where there is no sense to shew. And this is the case, not only where there is in the same sentence a mixture of discordant .gg2 452 APPENDIX. metaphors, but also where the metaphoric style is too long continued, and too far pursued. [ Ut modicus autem atque opportuntis translationis iisus illustrat orationem : itafrc- qnens, et obscurat et tcsdio complet; continues vero in alle- goriam et cenigmata exit. Quint, lib. viii. c. vi.] The reason is obvious. In common speech the words are tlie immediate signs of the thought. But it is not so here ; for when a person, instead of adopting metaphors that come naturally and opportunely in his way, rummages the whole world in quest of them, and piles them one upon another, when he cannot so properly be said to use meta- phor, as to talk in metaphor, or rather when from meta- phor he runs into allegory, and thence into enigma, his words are not the immediate signs of his thought; they are at best but the signs of the signs of his thought. His writing may then be called, what Spenser not unjustly styled his Fairy Queen, a jjerpetual allegory or dark con- ceit. Most readers will account it much to bestow a trans- ient glance on the literal sense, which lies nearest; but will never think of that meaning more remote, which the figures themselves are intended to signify. It is no wonder then that this sense, for the discovery of which it is neces- sary to see through a double veil, should, where it is, more readily escape our observation, and that where it is wanting we should not so quickly miss it." ********** " There is, in respect of the two meanings, considerable variety to be found in the tropical Style. In just allegory and similitude there is always a propriety, or, if you choose to call it, congruity, in the literal sense, as well as a dis- tinct meaning or sentiment suggested, which is called the figurative sense. Examples of this are unnecessary. Again, where the figurative sense is unexceptionable, there is sometimes an incongruity in the expression of the literal APPENDIX. 453 sense. This is always the case in mixed metaphor, a tiling not unfrequent even in good writers. Thus, when Ad- dison remarks that ' there is not a single view of human nature, which is not sufficient to extinguish the seeds of pride,' he expresses a true sentiment somewhat incongru- ously ; for the terms extinguish and seeds here meta- phorically used, do not suit each other. In like manner, there is something incongruous in the mixture of tropes employed in the following passage from Lord Bolingbroke : ' Nothing less than the hearts of his people will content a patriot Prince, nor will he think his throne established, till it is established there.' Yet the thought is excellent. But in neither of these examples does the incongruity of the expression hurt the perspicuity of the sentence. Some- times, indeed, the literal meaning involves a direct ab- surdity. When this is the case, as in the quotation from The Principles of Painting given in the preceding chapter, it is natural for the reader to suppose that there must be something under it ; for it is not easy to say how absurdly even just sentiments will sometimes be expressed. But when no such hidden sense can be discovered, what, in the first view conveyed to our minds a glaring ahsurdity, is rightly on reflexion denominated nonsense. We are satis- fied that De Piles neither thought, nor wanted his readers to think, that Rubens was really the original performer, and God the copier. This then was not his meaning. But what he actually thought and wanted them to think, it is impossible to elicit from his words. His words tlien may justly be styled bold, in respect of their literal import, but tinmeaning in respect of the author's intention. ** It may be proper here to observe, that some are apt to confound the terms absurdity and nonsense as synony- mous ; which they manifestly are not. An absurdity, in 454* APPENDIX. the strict acceptation, is aproposition either intuitively or demonstratively false. Of this kind are these : * Three and two make seven.' * All the angles of a triangle are greater than two right angles.' That the former is false we know by intuition ; that the latter is so, we are able to demonstrate. But the term is further extended to denote a notorious falsehood. If one should affirm, that 'at the vernal equinox the sun rises in the north and sets in the south,' we should not hesitate to say, that he advances an absurdity ; but still what he affirms has a meaning ; inso- much, that on hearing the sentence we pronounce its falsity. Now nonsense is that whereof we cannot say either that it is true, or that it is false. Thus, when the Teutonic Theosopher enounces, that * all the voices of the celestial joyfulness, qualify, commix, and harmonize in the fire which was from eternity in the good quality,' I should think it equally impertinent to aver the falsity as the truth of this enunciation, For, though the words grammatically form a sentence, they exhibit to the understanding no judgment, and consequently admit neither assent nor dis- sent. In the former instances I say the meaning, or what they affirm is absurd ; in the last instance I say there is no meaning, and therefore properly nothing is affirmed. In popular language, I own, the terms absurdity and non- sense are not so accurately distinguished. Absurd posi- tions are sometimes called nonsensical. It is not common, on the other hand, to say of downright nonsense, that it comprises an absurdity. " Further, in the literal sense there may be nothing unsuitable, and yet the reader may be at a loss to find a figux'ative meaning, to which his expressions can with justice be applied. Writers immoderately attached to the florid, or highly figured diction, are often misled by a APPENDIX. 455 desire of flourishing on the several attributes of a metaphor, which they have pompously ushered into the discourse, without taking the trouble to examine whether there be any qualities in the subject, to which these attributes can with justice and perspicuity be applied. This immoderate use of metaphor," Dr. Campbell observes, " is the principal source of all the nonsense of Orators and Poets. '* The second species of writing wherein we are liable to be imposed on by words without meaning, is that wherein the terms most frequently occurring, denote things which are of a complicated nature, and to which the mind is not sufficiently familiarized. Many of those notions which are called by Philosophers mixed modes, come under this denomination. Of these the instances are numerous in every tongue ; such as government^ churcJif state, constitution, polity, power, commerce, legis- lature, jurisdiction, proportion, symmetry, elegance. It will considerably increase the danger of our being de- ceived by an unmeaning use of such terms, if they are besides (as very often they are) of so indeterminate, and consequently equivocal, significations, that a writer, unob- served either by himself or by his reader, may slide from one sense of the term to another, till by degrees he fall into such applications of it as will make no sense at all. It deserves our notice also, that we are in much greater danger of terminating in this, if the different meanings of the same word have some affinity to one another, than if they have none. In the latter case, when there is no affinity, the transition from one meaning to another is taking a very wide step, and M'hat few writers are in any danger of; it is, besides, what will not so readily escape the observation of the reader. So much for the second 456 APPENDIX. cause of deception, which is the chief source of all the nonsense of writers on politics and criticism. " The third and last, and, I may add, the principal species of composition, wherein we are exposed to this illusion by the abuse of words, is that in which the terms employed are very abstract, and consequently of very extensive signification. It is an observation that plainly ariseth from the nature and structure of language, and may be deduced as a corollary from what hath been said of the use of artificial signs, that the more general any name is, as it comprehends the more individuals under it^ and consequently requires the more extensive knowledge in the mind that would rightly apprehend it, the more it must have of indistinctness and obscurity. Thus the word lion is more distinctly apprehended by the mind than the word beast, beast than animal, animal than being. But there is, in what are called abstract subjects, a still greater fund of obscurity, than that arising from the frequent mention of the most general terms. Names must be as- signed to those qualities as considered abstractedly, which never subsist independently, or by themselves, but which constitute the generic characters and the specific differences of things. And this leads to a manner which is in many instances remote from the common use of speech, and there- fore must be of more difficult conception." (Book ii. sec. 2. pp. 102, 103.) It is truly to be regretted that an author who has written so justly on this subject, should within a few pages so strikingly exemplify the errors he has been treat- ing of, by indulging in a declamation against Logic, which could not even to himself have conveyed any distinct meaning. When he says that a man who had learned Logic was " qualified, without any other kind of know- APPENDIX. 457 ledge, to defend any position whatever, however contra- dictory to common sense ;" and that " that art observed the most absolute indifference to truth and error," he cannot mean that a false conclusion could be logically proved from true premises ; since, ignorant as he was of the subject, he was aware, and has in another place distinctly acknowledged, that this is not the case ; nor could he mean merely that a false conclusion could be proved from a false premiss, since that would evidently be a nugatory and ridiculous objection. He seems to have had, in truth, no meatiing at all; though like the authors he had been so ably criticising, he was perfectly unaware of the emptiness of what he was saying. Page 305, [H.] " Moses stretched forth his hand, and the waters were divided, and became a wall unto the children of Israel, on the right hand and on the left. Moses smote the rock with his rod, and the waters flowed withal, and the chil- dren of Israel were refreshed in the wilderness, and were saved from death. But what was there in the arm of Moses, that the sea should obey it and stand still? Or what in the rod of Moses, that it should turn the flinty rock into a living fountain? Let me freely, though reve- rently, speak to you of the patriarch Moses. He was indeed great, because he was indeed good, in his genera- tion. But except in the matter of his goodness — except in his superior faith and trust in his Maker — except in his more ready obedience to the holy desires which the Spirit of the Lord inspired into his soul, he was no more than the rest ol' the Israelites, nnd the vest of men. Like them. 458 APPENDIX. like us, like every human being that is born of woman, he was compassed with infirmities, and tried with afflictions, and subject to terror, and surrounded with sorrow. Of himself he was able to do nothing, but all the mighty acts which he did, he did because ' it was God which worked in him both to will and to do of his good pleasure,' and because Moses did not resist the will of God, or neglect or abuse the power with which he was endued. If to the Jew God was very liberal, we have the promise of his beloved Son, that to Christians, in all spiritual and neces- sary things, he will be still more so. Over the world without us he will perhaps give us no power — because we are not called upon to save a people. But we are called upon to save ourselves, and he will give us a power over the rebeUious world that is within us. Stretch forth but your hands in faith and sincerity to God, and surely he will separate between you and your lusts. He will divide the tumultuous sea of your passions, and open for you a way to escape from your enemies into the land of eternity. He will cause the waves thereof to stand still and harmless on your right hand and on your left, and make you to walk in safety and unhurt through the overflowings of ungodliness, which, without his controlling arm, would have drowned your souls in perdition and destruction. Be ye never so faint and weary in the wilderness of sin, yet if in humility you smite upon your breast, and say, God be merciful to me a sinner ! he will melt the stony heart within you, and turning it into a fountain of piety and love — of love to man and love to your Maker — refresh you with the living waters of the comfort of the Spirit, and strengthen you by its power for your pilgrimage through life." Benson s First Course of Hulsean Lectures for 1820. Lect. XIV. pp. Mi^—^^Q. APPENDIX. 450 Page 367. [I.] *' For the benefit of those who are desirous of getting over their bad habits, and discharging that important part of the sacred office, the Reading the Liturgy with due decorum, I shall first enter into a minute examination of some parts of the Service, and afterwards deliver the rest, accompanied by such marks as will enable the Reader, in a short time, and with moderate pains, to make himself master of the whole. " But first it will be necessary to explain the marks which you will hereafter see throughout the rest of this course. They are of two kinds ; one, to point out the emphatic words, for which I shall use the Grave accent of the Greek, [']. *' The other to point out the different pauses or stops, for which I shall use the following marks : " For the shortest pause, marking an incomplete line, thus '. " For the second, double the time of the former, two ". " And for the third or full stop, three "'. " When I would mark a pause longer than any be- longing to the usual stops, it shall be by two horizontal lines, as thus = . '* When I would point out a syllable that is to be dwelt on some time, I shall use this — , or a short hori- zontal over the Syllable. " When a Syllable should be rapidly uttered, thus ", or a curve turned upwards ; the usual marks of long and short in Prosody. " The Exhortation I have often heard delivered in the following manner : 460 APPENDIX. " * Dearly beloved brethren, the Scripture moveth us in sundry places to acknowledge and confess our manifold sins and wickedness. And that we should not dissemble nor cloke them before the face of Almighty God our Heavenly Father, but confess them with an humble lowly penitent and obedient heart, to the end that we may ob- tain, forgiveness of the same, by his infinite goodness and mercy. And although we ought at all times humbly to acknowledge our sins before God, yet ought we most chiefly so to do, when we assemble and meet together. To render thanks for -the great benefits we have received at his hands, to set forth his most worthy praise, to hear his most holy word, and to ask those things that are re- quisite and necessary, as well for the body as the soul. Wherefore I pray and beseech you, as many as are here present, to accompany me with a pure heart and humble voice to the throne of the heavenly grace, saying after me.' " In the latter part of the first period, ' but confess them with an humble lowly penitent and obedient heart, to the end that we may obtain, forgiveness of the same, by his infinite goodness and mercy,' there are several faults committed. In the first place the four epithets preceding the word ' heart,' are huddled together, and pronounced in a monotone, disagreeable to the ear, and enervating to the sense ; whereas each word rising in force above the other, ought to be marked by a proportional rising of the notes in the voice ; and, in the last, there should be such a note used as would declare it at the same time to be the last — * with an humble' lowly' penitent and obedient heart,' &c. At first view it may appear, that the words ' humble' and ' lowly ' are synonymous ; but the word ' lowly,' cer- tainly implies a greater degree of humiliation than the APPENDIX. 4GI word * humble.' The word * penitent ' that follows, is of stronger import than either ; and the word ' obedient,' signifying a perfect resignation to the will of God, in con- sequence of our humiliation and repentance, furnishes the climax. But if the climax in the words be not accom- panied by a suitable climax in the notes of the voice, it cannot be made manifest. In the following part of the sentence, 'to the end that we may obtain' forgiveness of the same" there are usually three emphases laid on the words, end, obtain, same, where there should not be any, and the only emphatic word, forgiveness, is slightly passed over; whereas it should be read — 'to the end that we may obtain forgiveness of the same,' keeping the words, obtain, and forgiveness, closely together, and not disuniting them, both to the prejudice of the Sense and Cadence, &c. &c. *' I shall now read the whole, in the manner I have re- commended; and if you will give attention to the marks, you will be reminded of the manner, when you come to practise in your private reading. ' Dearly beloved bre- thren ! r=The Scripture moveth us' in sundry places' to acknowledge and confess our manifold sins and wickedness" and that we should not dissemble nor cloke them' before the face of Almighty God' our Heavenly Father" but confess them' with an humble' lowly' penitent' and obedient heart' to the end that we may obtain forgiveness of the same' by his infinite goodness and mercy'" And although we ought at all times' humbly to acknowledge our sins before God" yet ought we most chiefly so to do' when we assemble and meet together' to render thanks' for the great benefits we have received at his hands" to set forth' his most worthy prMse " to hear' his most holy word" and to ask those things' which are requisite and necessary' as well 462 APPENDIX. for the body' as the soul" Wherefore I pray and beseech you' as many as are here present' to accompany me' with a pure heart' and humble voice' to the throne of the heavenly grace' saying,' &c." Sheridati, Art of Reading Prose. The generality of the remarks respecting the vi^ay in which each passage of the Liturgy should be read, are correct; though the mode recommended for attaining the proposed end is totally different from what is suggested in the present treatise. In some points, however, the author is mistaken as to the emphatic words : e. g. in the Lord's Prayer, he directs the following passage to be read thus ; *' thy will' be done' on earth' as it is' in Heaven," with the emphasis on the words " be " and " is ;" these, how- ever, are not the emphatic words, and do not even exist, in the original Greek, but are supplied by the translator ; the latter of them might, indeed, be omitted altogether without any detriment to the sense ; " thy will be done, as in Heaven, so also on earth," which is a more literal trans- lation, is perfectly intelligible. A passage in the second Commandment again, he directs to be read, according indeed to the usual mode, both of reading and pointing it, — " visit the sins of the fathers' upon the children' unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me ;" which mode of reading destroys the sense, by making a pause at " children," and none at " generation ;" for this implies that the third and fourth generations, who suffer these judgments, are themselves such as hate the Lord, instead of being merely, as is meant to be expressed, the children of such ; *' of them that hate me," is a genitive governed not by " generation," but by "children : " it should be read (according to Shei-idan's marks) " visit the sins of the fathers' upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me : " i. e. visit the APPENDIX. 46S sins of the fathers who hate me, upon the third and fourth generations of their descendants." The same sanction is given to an equally common fault in reading the fifth Commandment ; " that thy days' may be long in the land' which the Lord thy God giveth thee : " the pause should evidently be at " long" not at " land." No one would say in ordinary conversation, " I hope yoH will find enjoyment in the garden' which you have planted." He has also strangely omitted an emphasis on the word " covet," in the tenth Commandment. He has, however, in the nega- tive or prohibitory commands avoided the common fault of accenting the word " not." And here it may be worth while to remark, that in some cases the Copula ought to be made the emphatic word ; (?*. e. the " is" if the proposi- tion be affirmative, the ''not" if negative;) viz. where the proposition may be considered as in opposition to its con- tradictory.* If, e. g. it had been a question whether we ought to steal or not, the commandment, in answer to that, would have been rightly pronounced, " thou shalt not steal : " but the question being, what things we are forbidden to do, the answer is, that *' to steal " is one of them, " thou shalt not steal." In such a case as this, the proposition is considered as opposed, not to its contradictory ^ but to one with a different Predicate : the question being, not, which Copula (negative or affirmative) shall be employed, but what shall be affirmed or denied of the subject : e. g, " it is lawful to beg ; but not to steal : in such a case, the Predicate, not the Copula, will be the emphatic word. * Nor is this properly an exception to the above rule ; for, in such cases, that which is expressed as the Copula, is, in sense the Predicate ; the question being in fact whether " true " or " false " shall be predicated of a certain assertion. 464 APPENDIX. One fault worth noticing on account of its commonness is the placing of the emphasis on " neighbour " in the ninth and tenth commandments ; as if there might be some persons precluded from the benefit of the prohibitions. One would think the man to whom our Lord addressed the parable of the good Samaritan, had been used to this mode of delivery, by his asking " and who is my neigh- bour ?" The usual pronunciation of one part of the " Apostles' Creed" is probably founded on some misapprehension of the sense of it * : " The holy Catholic Church, the Com- munion of Saints," is commonly read as if these were two distinct articles ; instead of the latter clause being merely an explanation of the former : "The holy Catholic Church, [viz.] the Communion of Saints." * See Sir Peter (afterwards Lord) King's History of the Apostles' Creed ; a work much more valuable (in proportion to its size) than most that are studied by theologians. INDEX TO SOME OF THE PRINCIPAL WORDS. Action, part iv. ch. iv. § 6. Analogy, p. i. ch. ii. § 6. Antithesis, p. iii. ch. ii. § 14. A priori, (argument,) p. i. ch. ii. §2. Approach, (argument by,) p. i. ch. ii. § 5. Argument, (distinguished from proposition,) p. i. ch. i. § 3. satisfactory and com- pulsory, p. i. ch. iii. § 1. Arrangement, (of arguments,) p. i. ch. iii. § 4. of words, p. iii. ch. i. § 3. andch. ii. § 11. Bashfulness, (in public speak- ing,) p. iv. ch. iv. § 2. Burden of proof, p. i. ch. iii. § 2. Cause, (argument from,) p. i. ch. ii. § 2. Chances, (calculation of,) p. i. ch. ii. § 4. Character, (of Speaker,) p. ii. ch. i. § 3. and ch. iii. § 1. Climax, p. ii. ch, ii. § 4. Comparison, (use of, in exciting any feeling,) p. ii. ch. ii. § 4. or Simile, p. iii. ch. ii. § 3. Composition, (fallacy of,) p. i. ch. ii. § 4. Conciseness, p. iii. ch. ii. § 7. Conclusion, (when to come first,) p. i. ch. iii. § 5, Conscious (manner), p. iv. ch. iv. § 2. p. 408, note. Conviction (distinguished from Persuasion), p. ii. ch. i. § 1. Crowded (style), p. iii. ch. ii. §9. Delivery, p. iv. ch. iv. § 1 . Direct (Argument), p. i, ch. ii. § i. and ch. iii. § 6. Dividing (a question), p. i. ch. iii. § 4. H 466 INDEX. Effect, (Argument from,) p. i. ch. ii. § 3. Elegance (of Style), p. iii. ch. iii. § 1, 2. Emphasis, p. iv. ch. ii. § 2. Energy (of Style), p. iii. ch. ii. § 1, &c. Epithets, p. iii. ch. ii. § 4. Example, p. i. ch. ii. § 6. Exercises, Tntrod. § 3. Experience, (Argument from,) p. i. ch. ii. § 6. Authority derived fi'om, p. ii. ch. iii. § 5. Feelings, (apt to fall short of what the occasion calls for), p. ii. ch. i. § 2. Fine delivery, p. iv. ch. iii. § 4. General terms, p. iii. ch. ii. § 1. Good-will, (essential to the Speaker's character,) p. ii. ch. iii. § 3. Illustration, p. i. ch. ii. § 7. and ch. iii. § 3. Imagination, p. ii. ch. ii. § 2. Imitation, p. iii. ch. ii. § 5. Inconsistency, p. ii. ch. iii. § 5. Indirect (Argument), p. i. ch. ii. § i. and ch. iii. § 7. Induction, p. i. ch. ii. § 6. Instruction (distinguished from Conviction strictly so called), p. i. ch. i. § 1. Integrity (of the speaker's cha- racter), p. ii. ch. iii. § 3. Interrogation, p. iii. ch. ii. § 15. Ironical form, p. i. ch. iii. § 7. Loose sentences, p. iii. ch. ii. §12. Metaphor, p. iii. ch. ii. § 3. Metonymy, p. iii. ch. ii. § 3. Natural delivery, p. iv. ch. ii. iii. &c. Number of words, (energy de- pendent on,) p. iii. ch. ii. § 7. Objections, p. i. ch. iii. § 7. Oratory, (spurious,) p. iii. ch. i. § 4, 5, 6. Paradox, p. i. ch. iii. § 2. Parity of reasoning, p. i. ch. ii. §6. Party-Spirit, p. ii. ch. iii. § 3. Passions, p. ii. ch. i. § 3. Periods, p. iii. ch. ii. § 12. Personification, p. iii. ch. ii. § 3. Perspicuity, p. iii. ch. i. § 2, &c. Persuasion, (analysis of,) p. ii. ch. i. § 1. Plain, (ambiguity of the word,) p. iii. ch. i. § 3. Plausible, p. i. ch. ii. § 2. INDEX. 467 Poetry, (characteristic of,) p. iii. cli. iii. § 3. Practice (in composition), In- trod. § 5. Presumptions, p. i. cli. iii. § 2. Prolixity, p. iii. ch. i. § 2, and ch. ii. § 7. Proper terms, p. iii. ch. ii. § 1. Propositions, (to find,) part i. ch. i. § 3. Reading, p. iv. ch. i. § 3. and ch. iii. § 1. Recapitulation, p. i. ch. iii. §9. Recitation, p. iv. ch. iv. § 2. Refutation, p. i. ch. iii. § 7. too forcible, § 8. Repetition, (conducive to per- spicuity,) p. iii. ch. i. § 2. Rhetoric, (why in greater re- pute among the Ancients,) Introd. § 3, 4. Rhetorician (art of, practised by a wise man on himself,) p. ii. ch. i. § 2. Sequence, (physical and lo- gical,) p. i. ch. ii. § 3. Sign, p. i. ch. ii. § 3. Simile, p. iii. ch. ii. § 3. Sound, (imitative,) p. iii. ch. ii. § 5. Speaking, (distinguished from Reading,) p. iv. ch. i. § 3, and ch. iii. § i. Subjects (for learners), Introd. §5. Substantives, (excessive use of,) p. iii. ch. ii. § 8. Suggestive (Style), p. iii. ch. ii. §9. Sympathy, (reflex,) p.iv. ch. iii. Tautology, p. iii. ch. ii. § 8. Technical terms, p. iii. ch. ii. §6. Testimony, p. i. ch. ii. § 4. Theological Style, p. iii. ch. ii. §6. Tone, p. iv. ch. i. § 3, note, and ch. ii. § 2. Tropes, p. iii. ch. ii. § 2. 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