tihvavy of t:he theological ^tminaxy PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY -d^t- A donation from Rev. R. K. Rodrers, D.D Nov. 187^ sets Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2011 witii funding from Princeton Tlieological Seminary Library littp://www.arcli ive.org/details/dialoguesconcernOOfnel DIALOGUES CONCKRNINO ELOdU EN C E: WITH A LKTTEX TO THE FRENCH ACADEMY, CONCERNING RHETORIC POET R/f. g^p 1 198A /by V^/tOrOiilCM ^^'' M DE FENELON ARCHBISHOP OF CAMBRAY. TO which is added, \ DISCOURSE PRONOUNCED BY THE AUTHOR. AT HXS ADMISSION INTO THE ACADEMY; with a new Tranflation of his Dialogues BETWEEN DEMOSTHENES and CICERO, VIRGIL AND HORACE. DIALOGUES CONCERNING E LO (IV E N CE IN GENERAL; AND PARTICULARLY THAT KIND WHICH IS FIT FOR THE PULPIT: B Y T H E ARCHB ISHOP C A M B R A Y. TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH, AND ILLUSTRATED WITH NOTES AND QUOTATIONS ; ByV/ILLIAM STEVENSON M. A RECTOR OF MORNINGTHORP IN NORFOLK. GLASGOW: fRlKTlD AND SOLD BY ROBERT AND ANDREW FOULW M D C C L. THE TRANSLATOR 's ADVERTISEMENT. THE French editor has given a full account of the following pie- ces. I think it needlefs to recommend them : they are the late Archbifhop of Cam bray's, fome apology how- ever may be expefted for my under- taking a tranflation that deferved the finell pen. all I can fay, without the appearance of vanity, is, that I was afraid it Ihould fall into worfe hands. I have more reafon to make fome ex- cufe for the unufual liberty I have ta- ken in tranllating the Dialogues, 'tis what I could not avoid, their ftile is extremely concife; fometimes obfcure. and the Paris-edition, (the flandard of the other,)is fo faulty, not only in thofe places that are mark'd among the un- accurate errata, but throughout the Dialogues, that either they never had the author's finifliing hand; or they as \i THE TRANSLATORS muft have been publifhed from a very defefti^ e copy, in order therefore to do him juftice, I found it necclTary to cloath his thoughts in anEnghlh drefs, ■W'ithout confining myfelf always to a ftrirt tranllation of the French, accor- dingly 1 have paraphrafed feveral paf- fages; tranfpofed afew;and added what- ever feemed proper to fet his true ien- timents in the fulled light. I would not have taken fo much freedom with any piece that the author publifhed in his life-time, the Letter to the French A- cademy,that was publifhed fome years before his death, is far more correft. in tranflating it I have kept as clofe to his ftile as our language would per- mit. I have not indeed always expref- fed myfelf fo fuccindly as he: nor did I endeavour it. tho* I admire concife- nefs, I prefer perfpicuity, when I can- not be both fhort and clear. To illuftrate and confirm our au- thor's notions I have adorned this trunflation with many inftru6live, beautiful paflTages^coUeded from fome ADVERTISEMENT. vU of the fineft writers both antient, and modern; which are not in the French edition. I have hkewife added fome few palTages of another kind, the quo- tations themfelves, and the placing of the marks of reference, clearly point out the view with which each paiTage is quoted, if, for this purpofe, I had every-where added in trodu6tory notes of my own, the reader would have had reafon to complain of my diftruft- ing his judgment. Some critics will think I have too often negleded fuch connecting par- ticles as for, bur, feeing, &c. there is a peculiar beauty in this omiflion: and I fliould have left-out many more, if I had clofely followed our author's example, or my own judg- ment, but too much mult not be at- tempted at once. Throughout the following (heets perhaps there are ftill too many marks of inaccuracy. I wifh they may pafs for inftances of that affeded negli- gence our author recommends, his a4 Vlll THE TRANSLAT. ADVERT. Letter plainly (hews that he would not always avoid every little defeft: nor ought it to be expeded of his tranflator, if he could, an elaborate ftile, and a fcrupulous exaftnefs, are inconfiftent with the familiar ftrain of a dialogue, it were eafy to prove that the free, and feemingly carelefs manner which might be blameablein other pieces, is really beautiful here ; as being a juft imitation of nature — but I will not lengthen this advertife- ^^j^i-inro a preface. r PREFACE CHEVALIER RAMSAY. "Do T H the antients and the mo- -■^ derns have treated of eloquence, with different views, and in different ways; as Logicians, as Grammarians, and as Critics: but we flill wanted an author who ffiould handle this delicate fubje6l as a Philofopher, and a Chrifli- an: and this the late Archbifliop of Cambray has done in the following Dialogues. I N the antient writers we find many folid precepts of rhetoric, and very jull rules laid down with great cxa6lnefs : but they are ofttimes too numerous, too dry; and in fine, rather curious than ufeful. our author reduces theeffenti- al rules of this wonderful art, to thefe X PREFACE. three points ; proving, painting, and moving the pafTions. TO qualify his orator for proving, or eftabliftiing any truth, he would have him a philofopher ; who knows how to enlighten the underftanding, while he moves the paflions ; and to a6l at once upon all the powers of tlie mind; not only by placing the truth in fo clear a light as to gain attention and aflent ; but likewife by moving all the fecret fprings of the foul, to make it love that truth it is convinced of. in one word, our author would have his orator's mind filled with bright, ufefiil truths, and the moft noble exalted views. THAT he maybe able to paint, or defcribe well, he fhould have a poetic kindofenthufiafm; and know how to employ beautiful figures, lively images, and bold touches, when the fubje^t re- PREFACE. xi quires them, but this art ought to be entirely concealed: or, if it muft ap- pear ; it fhould feem to be a juft copy of nature, wherefore our author rejefts all fuch falfe ornaments as ferve only to pleafe the ear, with harmonious founds; and the imagination, with ideas that are more gay and fparkling, than juft and folid. T o move the pafllons he would have an orator fet every truth in its pro- per place; and fo conne(5l them that the fir ft may make way for the fecond; and the next fupport the former: fo that the difcourfe fhall gradually advance in ftrength and clearnefs, till the hearers perceive the whole weight and force of the truth, and then he ought to difplay it in the Hvelieft images; and both in his words and gefture ufe all thofe af- xii PREFACE. feding movements that are proper to exprefs thepaffions he would excite. IT is by reading the antients that we mufl: form our tafte, and learn the art of eloquence in all its extent, but feeing that fome of the antients them- felves have their defe^ls, we muft read them with caution and judgment, our learned author diftinguifhes the genu- ine beauties of the purcft antiquity, from the falfe ornaments ufed in after- ages; he points out what Is excellent, and what is faulty, both in facred and profane authors ; and (hews us that the eloquence of the Holy Scripture,in ma- ny places, furpafles that of the Greeks and Romans, in native fimplicity, live- linefs, grandeur, and in every thing that can recommend truth to our affent and admiration. NOTHING can be more proper than PREFACE. xiii thefe Dialogues, to guard us againftthe vitiated tafte of falfe wit; which ferves only for amufement and oftentation. fuch eloquence as is founded on vanity and felf-love, delights in gaudy orna- ments ; and neglefts the genuine graces of a noble fimplicity. for, the glittering fancy and quaint turns, and forced an- tithefes, the fmooth periods, and other artificial ornaments of falfe oratory, make a little genius lofe the relifli of thofe fuperior and folid beauties that force their way to the mind,and at once enlighten, and captivate it. THEY who value nothing but wit, will probably diflikc the plainnefs of thefe Dialogues : but they would form another judgment of them if they con- Cdered that there are different ftiles of dialogue; of which antiquity furnifhes us with two celebrated patterns; the dia- xiv PREFACE, logues of Plato ; and thofe of Lucian. Plato like a true philofopher, ftudy'd chiefly to give force and light to his ar- guments; and chofe no other flile than what is ufed in converfation : fo that his language is artlefs, eafy and familiar, on the contrary Lucian is every-where witty and fparkling. all the perfons he introduces have a fprightly delicate fancy; fo that in reading him, we for- get the feign'd chara^lers of gods and men W'ho Ipeak in his dialogues; and cannot but fee the ingenious author in every thing they fay. we muft own however that he is an original, who has fucceeded wonderfully in this way of writing, he ridicul'd men in the moft facetious pleafing manner: while Plato inftrufted them with gravity and wif- dom. the Archbifhop of Cambray has imitated them both, on different fub- PREFACE. XV jefts. in his dialogues of the dead (which he composed for the inftruc- tion of a young prince that was his pupil,) we find the various wit and a- greeabie humour of Lucian. and in the following fheets, where he lays down the rules of fuch a grave elo- quence as is proper to move and per- fwademen; he imitates Plato: every thing is natural, and inftru6live : and inftead of wit and humour we find truth, and wifdom fhine throughout the compofure. IT was thought proper to fubjoyn to thefe dialogues the author's letter to the French Academy concerning rhe- toric, poetry, and other fubje^fls ; which has met with fo good reception, that it cannot but be acceptable to every polite reader, the dialogues, tho' but lately publifhed, were compofed feve- xvi PREFACE. ral years ago in the Archbifhop's younger days, but the letter was writ- ten in his more advanced age, in an- fwer to one that the Academy fent him by their fecretary ; defiring his ad- vice on the feveral fubjefts he treats of: and therefore it is penned with the utmofl: elegance and politenefs . how- ever both in the dialogues, and the let- ter, we find the fame juft tafte, the fame noble genius; the very fame max- ims; and the fame defign in writing; to reduce all cornpofures to truth, na- ture, and decency. DIALOGUES CONCERNING ELOCiUENCE. THE FIRST DIALOGUE, BETWEEN A. AND B. AND G. A.TT JELL, sir, Ifuppofe you have been hearing \\ the fermon to which you would have car- ried me. I have but very little curiofity that way, and am content with our parifh-minifter. B. I was charmed with my preacher, you had a great lofs. Sir, 'in not hearing him. I have hired a pew, that 1 may not mifs one of his Lent fcrmons. O ! he is a wonderful man. if you did but once hear him, you could never bear any other. A. If it be fo, I am refolved never to hear him. I would not have any one preacher give me a diftafte of all others; on the contrary, I fhould chufe one that will give me fuch a relifli and refpect for the word of God, as may difpofe me the more to hear it preach- ed every where, but (ince I have loft lo much by not hearing this fine difcourfe you are fo pleafed with, you may make up part of that lofs, if you'!! be fo kind as to communicate to us what you remember of it. B. I fhould onlymanglethefermon, by endeavour- ing to repeat any part of it. there were an hundred beauties in it that one cannot recolle P-7U 4 DIALOGUES leflenyour efteem, of it. we ought to reverence the word of God ; to improve ourfelves by all the truths that a preacher explains ; and avoid a critical humour, left we fhould leflfen the authority of the facred fundli- on. B. You have nothing to fear, Sir, at prefent. it is not out of curiofity that I ask your opinion ; but be- caufe I would have clear notions of it ; and fuch folid inftrudlions as may not only fatisfy myfelf, but be of ufe to others : for you know my profeffion obliges me to preach, give us your thoughts therefore, with- out any referve ; and do not be afraid either of con- tradicting, or oifending me. A. Since you will have it fo, Imuft obey your com- mands, to be free then ; I conclude, from your own account of this fermon, that it was a very forry one. B. Whyfo? A. Why ; can a fermon in which the fcripture is falfly applyed ; a fcrap of prophane hiftory is told after a dry childilh manner ; and a vain afFedlation of wit runs throughout the whole ; can fuch a fermon be good ? B. By no means : but I do not think that the fer- mon I heard is of that fort. A. Have patience, and I doubt not but you and I fhall agree, when the preacher chofe thefe words for his text, * I have eaten afhes like bread,' ought he to have amufed his audience with obferving fome kind of relation between the mere found of his text, and the ceremony of the day ? fhould he notfirft have ex- plained the true fenfe of the words, before he applyed them to the prefent occafion ? B. It had been better. CONCERNING E L O Q^U E N C E. j: A. Ought he not therefore to have traced the fub- je him. this ambition feems to have been always reckoned commendable both among the Greeks and the Romans : and fuch emulation brought eloquence to its perfection tit infpired men with noble thoughts and generous fcntiments, by which the ancient re- publics v/ere made to flourifh. the advantageous light in which eloquence appeared in great affemblies, and the afcendantit gave the orator over the people, made it to be admired, and helpt to fpread polite learning, I cannot fee indeed why fuch an emulation fhould be blamed even among chriftian orators ; provided they did not fliev/ an indecent afl^edlation in their difcourfes, nor in the lead enervate the precepts of the gofpel. we ought not to cenfure what animates young people, pnd forms our greatcfl preachers. A. You have here put feveral things together,which, ^f you pleafe, Sir, we will confider feparately ; and pblerve fome method in enquiring what we ought to CONCERNING EL O Q^U EN C E. 9 conclude from them, but let us above all things avoid a wraiigHng humour; and examine the fubjcdl with calmnefs and temper, like perfons who are afraid of nothing fo much as of error, and let us place the true pomt of honour in a candidacknowledgment of our mi (lakes, whenever we perceive them. B. That is the exad ftate of my mind ; or at lead I judge it to be fo ; and I intreat you to tell me when you find me tranfgrelTing this equitable rule. A. We will not as yet talk of what relates to preach- ers ; for that point may be more feafonably conCder- ed afterwards, let us begin with thofe orators whofe examples you vouched, by mentioning Demoflhenes and ifocrates together, you difpaiage the former ; * for the latter was alifelcfs declaimer,thatbufied himfelf in polifhing his thoughts, and giving an harmonious cadence to his periods, he had a very * low and vulgar notion of eloquence; and placed almoft the whole of it, in a nicedifpof.d of his words. A man who em- ployed ten or (as others fay) fifteen years, in fmooth- ing the periods of a panegyric, which was a difcourfe concerning the neceifities of Greece, could give but a very fmall and flow relief to the republic, a- gainft theenterprizes of thePerfian king. Demoflhe- nes fpoke againft Philip in a quite different manner. * In the introdii^ion of this •very panegyric that our author weiiiions, Ifocrates fays, Such is the nature of eloquence ; that it makes great things appear little ; and fmall things to feem great ; it can reprefent old things as new ; and new things as if they were old ; and that therefore he would not decline a fubjed that o- thers had handled before him, but would endeavour to de- claim better than they. — Upon which Lor.guius ( §. 58. ) makes this jt'Jicious remark ; that by gl- uing luch a charaticr cf ekquencCy in the beginning of his panegyric, the orator in effetJ cautioned his hearers not to believe his difcourfe. to DIALOGUES you may read the comparifon that Dionyfius HaK- carnaHius has made of thefe two orators , and fee there the chief faults he obferved in Ifocrates ; whofe difcourfes are vainly gay and florid ; and his periods adjufted with incredible pains, merely to pleafe the ear : while on the contrary, * Demofthenes moves, warms, and captivates the heart, he was too fenfibly touched with the intereftof his countr}'-, to mind the little glittering fancies that amufcd Ifocrates. every oration of Deniofthenes is a clofe chain of reafoning, that reprefents the generous notions of a foul who difdains any thought that is not great, his difcourfes gradually increafe in force by greater light and new reafons ; which are always illuftrated by bold figures and lively images, one cannot but fee that he has the good of the republic entirely at heart; and that na- ture itfelffpeaks in all his tranfports : for his artful addrefs is fo ma(lerly,that it never appears, nothing e- ver equalled the force and vehemence of his difcourfes. have you never read the remarks that Longinus made on them, in his treatife of ihe Sublime .'' B. No : is not thiit the treatife that Mr. Boileau tranflated? do you think it fine ? A . I am not afraid to tell you that I think it furpaf- fes Ariftotle's rhetoric ; which, though it be a very folid trad, is yet clogged with many dry precepts, that noncunftos illos tcnucs& cir- cumfpeftos [ora tores] vi,fub- limitate,impctu,cuku,compo- fitione fupcravit? non infurgit locis? non figuris gaudet?non tranflationibusnitet? non ora- tionc atla dat carentibus vo- cem? — Quintil. /i/'. xii. cap, 10. * Inoratoribus vcro, Grac- cis quidem, admirabile eft quantum inter omnes unus exccllat. attamen cum cfTet Dcmofthencs, multi oratores magni, et clari fuerunt, et an- tea fuerant, nee poftea dcfece- runt. Cic. Orat.^^. 2. Qiiid denique Demofthcncsr CONCERNING E L O Q^U EN C E. It are rather curious, than fit for pra6tice ; fo that It is more proper to point out the rules of art to fuch as are already eloquent, than to give us a juft tafte of rheto- ric, and to form true orators, but Longinus, in his difcourfe of the Sublime, interfperfes among his pre- cepts, many fine examples from the greateft authors, to illuftrate them. * he treats ofthe Sublime in a lofty manner, as his tranflator has judicioufly obferved : he warms our fancy, and exalts our mind ; he forms our tafte ; and teaches u s to diftinguifli what is either fine, or faulty, in themoft famous ancient writers. B. Is Longinus fuch a wonderful author ? did he not live in the days of Zenobia, and the emperor Aure- lian? A. Yes ; you cannotbut know their hiftory. B. Did not thofedays fall vaftly (hortof the polite- nefs of former ages ? and can you imagine that an author who flourifiied in the declenfion of learning and eloquence had a better tafte than Ifocrates ? I cannot believe it. A. I was furprized myfelf, to find it fo : but you need only read him, to be convinced of it. tho' he lived in a very corrupted age, he formed his judgment upon the ancient models ; and has avoided almoft all the reigning faults of his own time ; 1 fay almoft all, for, I muft own, he ftudyed rather what is admirable, than what is ufeful ; and did not confider eloquence * Thee, hid Longinus ! all the nine infpire, AndUefs their critic with apoeVs fire : An ardent judge, -who, zealous in his truftt With -warmth gives fentence, yet is always jitjl : Whofe own example ftrengthens- all his laws, And is himfelfthat great Sublime he draws. Mr. Pope's eflay on criticifm,/'. 4;. 12 DIALOGUES as fubfervient to morality ; nor apply it to cli're<5l the conduct of life, and in this he does not feem to have had fuchfolid views as the antient Greeks, and efpecially feme of their philofophers.but we ought to forgive him a failing, for which Ifocrates was far more remarkable, the' he lived in a more refined age. and this defe(5t ought the rather to be over-looked in a par- ticular difcourfe, where Longinus does not treat of what is proper to inftrudt men, but of what is apt to move and feize their paffions. I chufe to recommend this author, Sir, becaufe he will help to explain my meaning to you. you will fee what a glorious * cha- radler he gives ofDemoflhenes,from whom he quotes feveral palTages that are moft fublime : he will likewife fhew you thofe faults of ifocrates that I mentioned, if you be unwilling to take the trouble of becoming acquainted with thefe authors, by reading their works; you may get a veryjuft notion of them by confulcing Longinus. let us now leave Ifocrates j and talk of Demofthenes, and Cicero. B. You are for leaving ifocrates, becaufe he Is not for yourpurpofe. * — '0 Jf fvSev Xafcjy Tov Ttf \ tov lEO-rocci, ^tci tZto )f pteJ 4'eurst/, kcckcx. Qnplir,, yaripii ^.pfxt. Tit. I. li. 32 to DIALOGUES alogues on the plan and fubjeft of his mafter's dif- courfes,) banifhedfrom his republic all fuch mufical notes, fcencs of tragedy, and poetical compofitions, ( even fnch parts of Homer himfelf , ) as did not in- cline people to love order, and wife laws, this, Sir, was the judgment of Socrates and Plato concerning poets and muficians: do you approve of it? B. I am entirely of their mind; and would allow of nothing that is ufelefs, fince we may find pleafure enough in folid and valuable things, we ought not to feek for it elfewhere. in order to recommend virtue to men's efteemand pra(n:ice, we muft (how them that it is confident with pleafure : and on the contrary, ifwe feparate pleafure from virtue, people will be Itrongly tempted to forfake a virtuous courfe. befides, that whichgives pleafure only, without inflrudlion, can at beft but amufeand foften the mind, do not you fee, Sir, how much aphilofopher I am become,by hearing you? but let us go on to the end : for we are not yet perfeft- Jy agreed. A. I hope we fhall be very quickly, and fince you are grown fi) much a philofopher, give me leave to ask you one queftion more, we have obliged mufici- ans, and poets, to employ their art only for promo- ting virtue : and the fubjecfts of your new republic are debarred from all fuch fpedacles as can only pleafe, and not inftrud them, but what would you do with conjurers ? B. They are impofiors that ought to be banifiied from all focicties. A. They do no harm, you cannot think they are forcerers : fo that you have no reafon to be afiaid of their pra(^ifing any diabolical art. coNCEFNiNG ELO Q^UEN CE. 21 B. No, I do not fear that: norfliould I give the leaft credit to any of their fenfelefs ftorics. but they do harm enough by amufing the common people. I will not fufferfuch idle perfons in my commonwealth, as divert others from their bufinefs, and have no other employment but to amufe people with foolifli talk. A . But perhaps they get a livelihood ihar way ; and lay up wealth for themfelves, and their families. B. No matter: they muft find outfome honed way of living, it is not enough that they feek a livelihood ; they muft gain it byfome employment that is ufeful to the public. I fay the fame of all thofe ftrolling vaga- bonds who amufe crowds with filly prattle and foolifh fongs. for tho' they fhould never lie, nor fay any thing that is immodeft ; their being ufelefs to the pub- lic is guilt enough, fo that they ought either to be ex- cluded from the fociety, or compelled to follow fomc ufeful occupation. A . Would you not at leaft tolerate tragedians, pro- vided they reprefent no fcenes of immodefty, or ex- travagant love.-* I do not ask you this queftion as a Chriftian: anfwer only as a law-giver, and a philofo- pher. B. If tragedies did not conduce to inftrudlion as well as to pleafure, I ftiould condemn them. A. Right, in that you are exadtly of Plato's opi- nion : for he would not allow of any poems or trage- dies in his republic, that ftiould not firft be examined by the guardians of the laws: that fo the people might neither hear nor fee any thing but what ftiould tend to ftrengthen the laws and promote virtue, in this you likewife fall in with the fentiments of other antient authors, who judged that tragedy ought to turn chief- ^ 3 22 DIALOGUES ly upon two pafilons ; either the terror that arlfes from a view of the fatal efFe<5ts of vice; or that compaffion which accompanies the reprefentation of an opprell and ftcddy virtue. Sophocles and fiuripidcs wrote with thefe views, and always endeavoured to excite either pity, or terror. H. I remember I have met with this laft rule in Mr, Boileau's art of poetry. A. You are right, he's a man that knows perfe<5lly well notonly the foundation of poetry; butlikewife the folid aim to which philo bphy (fuperiour to all arts) ought to dire(5l the poet. B. But whither are you leading me all this while? A. I lead you no farther: you guide yourfelf now; and are happily come to the conclufion 1 firft pro- pos'd. have you not faid, that in your republic, you would not fufFer idle people who amufe others, and have no other bufmefs but merely to talk? is it not upon this principle that you would exclude all fuch tragedies as do not convey inftrudion as well as plea- fure? now will you fuffer that to be done in profe, that you will not tolerate in verfe? after fuch a juft ri- gour ag^inft ufelefs poetry, how can you fhew any fa- vour to thofe * declaimers who talk only to (hew their parts? * If ho can behold, without in- dignation, how many mijis and un- certainties thefe fpec'ious tropjs and fi^Tures have brought on our knowledge ? how many rewards that are due to more -profitable and difficult arts, have been ftill fnatcbed a-ivay by the cafy vani- ty of fine [peaking : for now I am warmed with thisjufi anger ^ T cannot with -hold my fclf front he- fraying the fimllownefi of all thofe fceming myfleries, upon which we writers, and fpeakers look fb big. and in few words, I dare fay, that of all the jiudics of men y nothing may be fooncr obtained, than this -vicious abundance of phrafe, this trick of metaphors, this volubility 0/ tongue, ivhich CONCERNING E L O Q^U ENCE. 23 B. But thefe orators we were fpeaking of, have two defigns that are commendable. A. Wh^t are they? B. The firft is to maintain themfelves: for, by their profefljon they procure a fubfiftence. their rhetoric gets them repute ; and this brings along with it that wealth they ftand in need of. A. You yourfelf have already anfwered this pre- tence, for, did you not fay that it is not enough that one gains a livelihood, unlefs he get it by fome em- ployment that is ufeflil to the public? he whofliould reprefent tragedies that give no inftrudion, might get his bread by them: but this would not hinder you from driving him out of your commonwealth, you would fay to him, ' go chufe fome regular ufeful employ- * ment; and do not divert your neighbours from their * bufinefs. if you would have a lawful gain from them; * apply yourfelf to do them fome real fervice; or to * make them more wife and virtuous. ' now why ftiould you not fay the fame to the rhetoricians? B. But I have a fecond reafon to offer for tolera- ting them. A. Pray, let us hear it. B. Why; the orator fervesthe public. A. In what? B. He improves people's minds, and teaches them eloquence. makes fh great mife in the "world, and labour fi Jong after it, in the hut I fpend-words in vain; for years of our education; that -we the evil is now fo inveterate, cannot but ever after think kinder that it is hard to know -whom to of it than it deferves. Bifhop llame ; or where to begin to re- Sprat's hift. of the royal foci- form. we all value one another fo ety, p. 112. much upon this beautiful deceit, B 4 24 DIALOGUES A. Snppofe I fhould invent fome fantaftic art, or imaginary language , that could not be of any ufe; could 1 fcrve the public by teaching fuch a lenfelcfs language, or filly art? B. No: becaufe one cannot ferve others as a maf- ter, unlels he could teach them fomething that is ufe- M. A. You cannot prove then that an orator ferves the public, by his teaching eloquence, unlefs you could firft fliew that it is an ufeful art. of what ufe arc a man's fine thoughts if they do not advance the public good? I am very fenfible that they are advantageous tohimfelf; for they dazle his hearers; who have fo bad a tafte that they will applaud his skill, and even reward him for his ufelefs talk, but ought you to fuf- fer fi'ch a mercenary fruitlefs eloquence in the go- vernment you have to model? a (hoemaker is fer vice- able in his way, and maintains his family with what he gains by fupplying other people's neceflities. fo that you fee the moft ordinary employments tend to fome ufeful purpofe: and there is no other art but the rhetorician's that ferves only to amufe people with talking, in fine, fuch eloquence can only, on the one hand, fatisfy the vain curiofity of the hearers, and encourage their idlcnefs; and on the other, gratify the declaimer's pride, and ambition, but for the honour of your republic, Sir, do not tolerate fuch an abufe. B. 1 mud grant that an orator's aim fliould be to make people more wife and virtuous. A. Do not forget this: you fhall fee the confequen- ces of it by and by. B. Kotwithftanding this conceffion, he who is em- ploy'd in inftruding others, may at the fame time en- CONCERNING EL O QUE "N CE. 2f deavour to acquire reputation and wealth, for himfelf, A , I told you before, that we are not now handling the point as cbrift'.ans : I need only ufe philofophy a- gainit you. let me put you in mind that you grant an oraior is obliged to inftrud others with a defign to im- prove them in virtue, thus we get rid of all ufelefs declaimers. we ought not even to fufFer panegyrifts any farther than they render true wifdom and probity more amiable by their praifes ; and propofe models of * virtue and valour that are worthy of imitation. B. What then, is a panegyric good for nothing, unlefs it be full of morality.? A. Have you not granted this already? inftrudion is the proper end of fpeech: and the only good reafon for praifing any hero, is, that we may reprefent his worth to others, in order to excite their emulation ; and to fhew them that virtue and true glory are infe- parable therefore a panegyric fhould be kept free from all general, excefFive, flattering praifes; and fuch barren thoughts as do not afford the lead inftruc- tion. every thing fhould tend to make the hearers in love with what is truly great and good, but we find that mofl panegyrifts feem to magnify particular vir- tues, only that they may the more efFedually praife thofe that pradifed them, and let off their heroes to greater advantage- when they have any one to praife, they exalt his peculiar virtues far above all others, but * Perfpicuum eft igitur a- i beri virtuti uni putatur. — Ha efle in homine optanda, a- virtus aiitem quae eft per fe lia laudanda. genus, forma, j ip{a iaud4bilis,et fine qua ni- vires, opes, divitiae, ceteraque j hil laudari poteft, tamen ha- quae fortuna det, aut extrin- fecus, aut corpori,non habent in fe veram laudem,quae de- bet plures partes, quarum alia eft ad laudationem aptior. Cic. deOrat. lib. ii. 25 DIALOGUES c%'ery thing has its turn ; and on another occafion, thofe very qualities which they preferred before, mud now give place to fome other virtues, that come in courfe to be extolled to the higheft pitch, in this re- fpeft, I think Pliny is to be blamed, if he had praifed Trajan, as a fit model for other heroes to copy after, this would have been a dellgn worthy of an orator. but the praife of that prince, (however defcrving he was) ought not to have been Pliny's chief aim. Tra- jan fhould only have been propofed to mankind as an imitable example, to allure them to virtue, when a panegyrift has fuch a mean view, as to praife the per- fon, rather than the virtues that render him confpi- cuous, this is only flattery addreft to pride. B. What think you then of thofe poems that were made in praife of antient heroes? Homer has his A- chillcs; and Virgil, his .icneas. will you condemn thefetwo poets? A . By no means, Sir: do bet examine the deCgn of their works, in the Iliad, Achilles is the chief hero ; but his praife is not the main end of the poem, his character is faithfiilly drawn with all its * defects: nay thefe very defects are a part of that inftruftion which the poet defigned to convey to pofterity. the f great defign of this w^ork was to infpire the Greeks with the • Impiger, iraciindus, inexorabilis, acer : Jura negat Ubi nata : nihil non arrogat armis. HoR. ie A. P. f Trojani belli fcriptorem, n:aximc Loffi, Dum tu declamas Romae, Praenejie relegi : Qui, quid fit pulchrum, quid turpe, quid utile, quid non, Plcnius ac melius Chryfippo et Crontore dicit. Fabula qua Paridis propter rarrstur amorem, Stultorum regum et populorum continet aeftus. HoK. Efift. lib. i. £/). 2. C0SCE9SIKG EL O Q^U EN C E. 27 love of warlike glory; and a dread of difcord, as the greateft obftade to fuccefs. this mor tl inftruction is plainly interwoven throughout the poem, the (Jdyllee indeed reprefents, in tUlyires, a hero more regular, and more accorapl:lli?d: but this is ftill natural tor, of courfe, a man like I lyfTes, whofe chief character is wif- dom, muft be more wary, and uniform in his coiiducl, than fuch a rough, warm, forward youth as .Achilles. fo that in drawing both thefe heroes, Hornet feems only to have copyed natjre. in fane, throughout the Odylfeewe fand Innumerable inftructions for the whole conduifl of life: and one cannot but obferve that the poet's defign, in defcribing a prudent man, whofe wifdom makes him always fuccefsful, was, to ftiew pofterity what good effecls might be expe. 2. * Rex erat Aeneas nobis, quo juftior alter Nee pietate fuit, nee hello major et annis. f Nunc age, Dardaniam prolem quae deinde feqaatuT Gloria, qui raaneant Italadegentc Nepotes, llluftrcs animas, noftrumque in nomen ituras, Expediam diftis, ct :e tua fata docebo. 28 DIALOGUES port the plory defigned for them, now a heathen could not pofTibly devife a nobler moral than this, the only fault of which Virgil can be fufpedted, is his having had his private interefl: too much in view; and his turning his excellent poem to the * praifeof Auguflus, and his family, with too great an air of flattery, but we ought not to criticize any author too fevereJy. B. But will you not allow a poet, or an orator to feekhis fortune in an honourable way? A. After this ufeful digreflion concerning panegy- rics, we now return to the diiHculty you propofed. the queftion is, whether an orator ought to be intirely difintereded? B. I do not think that he ought: for this would o- verturn the moft common maxims. A. In your republic, would you not have orators obliged to the ftridcft rules of truth? do not you own that they ought never to fpeak in public ; but in order to inftrucl people; to reform their condudj and ftrengthen the laws? B. Yes. • Hue, geminas hue flefle acies; banc afpice gentem Romanofdue tuos. Hie Caefar, et omnis luli Progenies magnum coeli ventura fub axem. Hie vir, hie eft tibi quern promitti facpius audis jiugufius Caefar, Divi genus : aurea eondet Saecula qui rurfus Latio, regnata perarva Saturno quondam : Exeudentalii fpirantia mollius aera. Credo equidem, vivos ducent de marmore vultus; Orabunt eaufas melius : eoelique meatus Defcribent radio; et furgentia fidera dicent: Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento: Hae tibi erunt artes; paeifque imponere morem; Parcere fubjeftis; ct debellars fuperbos. -S^NEID. lib. vi. CONCERNIJIG Et OQ UENCE. 29 A. An orator then fliould have nothing either to hope, or fear, from his hearers, with regard to his own intereft. if you allowed of* ambitions mercenary de- claimers,do you think they would oppofe all the fooiifli unruly paflions of men? if they themfelves be fuhje^t to avarice, ambition, luxury, and fuch fhameful dif- orders ; will they be able to cure others? if they feek after wealth ; can they be fit to difengage others from that mean purfuit? I grant that a virtuous and difinte- refted orator ought always to be fupplyed with the conveniencies of life: nor can he ever want them, if he be a true philofopher ; I mean, fuch a wife and worthy perfon as is fit to reform the manners of men : for then he will live after a plain, modeft, frugal, labori- ousmanner: he will have occafion but for little: and that little he will never want; tho' he fhould earn it with his own hands, now, what is fuperfluous ought not to be offered him as the recompence of his public fervices : and indeed it is not worthy of his acceptance, he may have honour and authority conferred on him: but if he bemafter of his pafTions (as we fuppore)and above felfifli views, he will ufe this authority only for the public good; and be ready to refign it, when he can no longer enjoy it without flattery, or diffimula- tion. in fhort, an orator cannot be fit to perfuade people, unlefs he be inflexibly upright: for, without * Jam hoc quis non videt, j dii, doftrinae, peffimo, atque maximam partem orationis in optimo viro, uter meliordice- traftatu aequi bonique confif- ■ tur orator? nimirum qui ho- tere? dicetne de his fecundum ' mo quoque melior, non igitur debitamrerum dignitatem ma- unquam malus idem homo,et lus atque iniquus? denique — perfeftus orator. QviNT. lib, demus id quod nullo modo fi<^ xii, C, l» «ri poteft, idem ingenii, ftu- 1 3© DIALOGUES this ftcddy virtue, his talents and addrefs would, like a mortal poifon, infe. i. CONCERNING EL O Q. XT EN CE. 31 condudl, as well as in his diTcourfes. but will he who ftrives to pleafe others, that he may make bis fortune; and who therefore avoids diibbliging any body ; I fay, will fuch an anful felfifh perfon inculcate unacceptable truths with boldnefs and authority? or, if he fliould ; will any one believe a man who does not feem to be- lieve himfelf? B. Butfuppofing him to be in narrow circumftan- ces, he does no harm, 1 hope, by endeavouring to im- prove them. A. If he be pinched, let him try to mend his condi- tion fome other way. there are other profeflions that will eadly fet him above want, but if he be in fuch extreme diftrefs as to depend on relief from the pub- lic ; he is not yet lit to be an orator, would you chufe men that are indigent , and almoft ftarving , to be judges in your commonwealth? would you not be a- fraid that their wants might expofe them to corrupti- on ; or betray ihem into fome dilhonourable compli- ance? would you not rather chufe perfons of note and dilHnftion who are above neceffity, and out of the reach of its temptations? B. I believe! (hould. A. For the fame reafon, if you wanted orators, that is, public mailers to inftrud, reclaim, and form the minds and manners of the people,would you not chule fuch men as wanted nothing, and are far above little felfifh aims? and if there were others who had proper talents for this fuperiour office, but were clogged with their perfonal concerns, and narrow views of private interefts ; would you not excufe them from Ihewing their eloquence till they were more eafy and difen-. 32 DIALOGUES gaged in their circumftances ; and could fpeak in pub* lie without being fufpefled of any mean defign ? B. It would be better. but does not the experience of our own age plainly Ihew, that an orator may make his fortune by preaching rigid virtue, with great ve- hemence? where can we find keener fati res againftthe prevailing corruptions of the age, and feverer moral charaders than thofe which come from the pulpit? yet people are not difturbed at them : nay they are pleafed with them: and the ingenious preacher gets preferment by them. A. It is very true: but moral inftruflions have no weight nor influence, when they are neither fupported by clear principles, nor good examples, whom do you fee converted by them ? people are accuftomed to hear fuch harangues: and are amufed by them, as with fo many fine fcenes pafling before their eyes, they hear- ken to fuch ledtures juft as they would read a fatire: and they look onthefpeaker as one that a<5is his part well, they believe his * life, more than his talk: and * The clergy have one great \ fes good thoughts, and brings good advantage beyond all the reji of\ ideas into their minds; and tends ihe -world in this refpe^, befidcs both to encreafe their knoivkdge^ fill, others, that -whereas the par- and quicken their fenfe of divine iicular callings of other men prove matters, a prieft therefore is more to them great diJlraSions, and lay accountable to God, and the -world many temptations in their -way, to for his deportment, and -will be divert them from minding their { more feverely accounted ivith, than high and holy calling, of being j any other perfon -whatjbever. he Chriftians; it is quite otherwife is more -watched over and obfer- nvith the clergy : the more they \ ved than all others, very good follow their proper callings, they men -will be, even to a cenfure, do the more certainly advance their jealous of him r 7^7 bad men general oflife,thatwedo not obferve the fame ridicule in carelefs, vain-glorious orators ; who yet ought to be thefpiritual phyficians and cenforsof the ppople. indeed the fentiments of Socrates on this fub- jed: ought to make us afliamed. B. I perceive clearly enough that, according to your reafoning, orators ought to be the defenders of the laws, and inftru(5tors of the people to teach them true wifdom and virtue, but among the Romans the rhetoric of the bar was otherwife employed. A. That was certainly the end of it. for, when o- rators had not occafion to reprefent in their difcourfes, the general wants of the republic: they were obliged to proteft innocence, and the rights of particular per- fons. and it was on this account that their profefli- on was fo much honoured ; and that Tully gives us fuch a f lofty charader of a true orator. f "Neque vero mihi quid- i ducere. haec una res in omni quam praeftabilius videtur, libero populo , maximeque quam pofTe dicendotenereho- i in pacatis tranquillifque civi- minum coetus, mentes alJice- re, voluntates conpellere quo velit;unde autem velit, de- G 4 tatibiis praecipue fempcr flo- ruit, femperquedominataeft. quid enim eft aut tam admi- 40 DIALOGUES B. Let us hear then how orators ought to fpeak. I long to know your thoughts on this point : feeing you deny the finical, florid manner of Ifocrates, which is fomuch admired and imitated by others. A.Infteadof giving on my own opinion,! fhallgo on to lay before you the rules that the antients give us: but Ifhallonly touch upon the cliief points: for, Ifuppofe, you do not expert that I (liould enter into an endlefs detail of the precepts of rhetoric, there are but too many ufelefs ones; which you muft have read in thofe books where they are copiouily explained. it will be enough if we confider the moft important rules. Plato in his Phaedrus fliews us , that the grea- teft fault of rhetoricians is their ftudying the art of perfuafion, before they have learned, (from theprin- ciples of true philofophy,) what thofe things are of which they ought to perfuademen. he would have o- ratois begin v/ith the ftudy of mankind in general; and then apply themfelves to the knowledge of the particular genius and manners of thofe whom they may have occafion to inftrud and perfuade. fo that they ought firit of all to know the nature of man, his chief end, and his true intereft; the parts of which he is compofed, his mind, and his body ; and the true way to make him happy : they ought likewife to un- rabile, qiiam ex infinita mul- titudine hominiim cxiftere u- iiiim,qui id quud omnibus na- tura fit datum, vcl foliis, vel cum paiicis faccrc poflit : aut tam poicns, tamquemaf]- nificum, quam populi molus, judicum religiones , fenatus gravitatem, unius oratione convertij —acne plura,quae funt penc innumcrabilia,con- fcfter, comprehendam brevi; fic cnim ftatuo, peife£^i ora- toris moderatione, ct fapien- tia, non folum ipfiiis dignita- tem, fed ct privatorum pluii- morum,ct univerfac rcipubli- cae falutem maxime contine- ri— Cic. dcOrat.lib. i. §. 8. CONCERNING EL OQ^UENC E. 41 derftand his pafTions, the diforders they are fubjeUENCE. 5-3 with which he embellifheth his harangues? they might amufe the fancy, but could not touch the heart. A. AVe muft diftinguifh, Sir, betwixt Tully's ora- tions, thofe he compofed in his youth (when he chief- ly aimed at eftablilhing his charadler,) have oft-times the gay defe(51: you fpeak of. he was then full of am* bition; and far more concerned for his own fame, than for the juftice of his caufe. and this will always be the cafe when people employ one to plead for them, who regards their bufinefs no farther than as it gives him an opportunity of diftinguifhing himfelf, and of ihining in his profeflion. thus we find that among the Romans their pleading at the bar, was oft-times no- thing elfe but a pompous declamation, after all, we muft own that Tully's * youthful and moft elaborate orations Ihew a great deal of his moving and perfuafive * Nunc caufa perorata, res landus eft? cujus hominis R~ ipfa et periculi magnitudo, C. des imploranda? ab ipfo Aquilii, cogere videtur, ut te, \_Naevio\ repudiatus, ab ami- atque eos, qui tibi in confilio • cis ejus non fublevatus; ab funt,obfecret,obtefteturque P. Quint'ws per feneftutem ac fo- iitLidinem fuam, nihil aliud, nifi ut veftrae naturae, boni- tatique obfequamini: ut, cum omni magiftratu agitatus at- que perterritus, quern praeter te appellet, [C. Aqtnlli] habet neminem; tibi fe,tibi fuas om- nes opesfortunafquecommen- veritas haec faciat, plus hu- 1 dat: tibi committit exiftima- jus inopia poflit ad milericor- tioncm ac fpem reliquae vi- diam quam illius opes ad cru- ! tae. multis vexatus contume- delitatem ll quae pudore I liis, plurimis jaftatus injuriis ornamenta fibi peperitjNafT;?, ' non turpiszd te>fed mifer con- ea poteft contra petulantiam, ' fugit; e fundo ornatiffimo de- te defendente, obtinere; fpes jeftus , ignominiis omnibus eft et hunc miferum atque appetitus — itaque te hoc ob- infelicem aliquando tandem fecrat, C. y^quilli, ut quam ex- pofle confiftere . Cm et poterit iftimationem, quam honefta- Naevm id quod llbet;et ei li- tem in judicium tuum, prope bebit, quod non licet; quid a- afta jam aetate decurfaqueat- gendum eft? qui Deus appel- tulit, cam liceat ei fecum ex D 3 S4 DIALOGUES art. but to form a juft notion of it, we mufl obferve the harangues he made in his more advanced age, for the neceflities of the republic, for then, the experi- ence he had in the weightieft affairs,the love of liberty, and the fear of thofe calamities that hung over his head, made him difplay theutmoft efforts of his elo- quence, when he endeavoured to fupport and revive expiring liberty, and to animate the commonwealth againfl: Antony his enemy ; you do not fee him ufe points of wit and quaint antithefes: he is then truly e- loquent. every thing feems artlefs, as it ought to be when one is vehement, with a negligent air he deli- vers the moft natural and afFeding fentiments; and fays every thing that can move and animate the paf- lions. C. You have often fpoke of witty conceits and quaint turns, pray, what do you mean by thefe ex- preflions? for I can fcarce diftinguifh thofe witty turns from the other ornaments of difcourfe. in my opini- on, all the embellifhments of fpeech flow from wit^ and a vigorous fancy. A. But TuUy thinks, there are many expreflions that owe all their beauty and ornament to their force and propriety; and to the nature of the fubjeft they are applyed to. C. I do not exactly underftand thefe terms: be pleaf- cd to fhew me in a familiar way, how I may readily hoc loco efferre; ne is, de cu- jus officio nemo unquam du- bitavit, fexagefimo denique anno, dedecore, macula, tur- piflimaque ignominia note- tur: ne ornamentis ejus om- nibus; Sex. Naevius pro Tpo- liis abutatur: ne perteferat, quo minus, quae exiflimatio P. Quint'ium ufque ad feneftu- tem perduxit, eadem ufque ad rogum profequatur. Cic, Orat. fro P. Ouinfio, CONCERNING E LO Q^U EN C E. jy di/linguifli betwixt a fiafh of wit, (or quaint turn,) and a folid ornament, or * noble delicate thought. A. Reading, and obfervation will teach you bed: there are a hundred different forts of witty conceits. G, But pray, Sir, tell me at lead fome general mark by which I may know them: is it affeftation? A. Not every kind of affedlation: but a fond defire to pleafe, and fhew one's wit. G. This gives me fome little light: but I wantftill fome diftinguifhing marks, to dire(5t my judgment. A. I will give you one then, which perhaps will fa- tisfy you. we have feen that eloquence confifls not on- ly in giving clear convincing proofs ; but likewife in the art of moving the paflions. now in order to move them, we mud be able to paint them well; with their various objefts, and effefls. fo that I think the whole art of oratory may be reduced to proving, painting, and raifing the paffions. now all thofe pretty, fpark- ling, quaint thoughts that do not tend to one of thefe ends, are only witty conceits. G. What do you mean by painting? I never heard that term applyed to rhetoric. A. To I paint, is not only to defcribe things ; but * True -wit zV nature to advantage drefs% What oft -was thought, hut ne'er fo -well exprefsU) Something, ivhofe truth convinced at fight -wefindf That gives us back the image of our inind. Asjhades more fiveetly recommend the light: So modeft plainnefsy^/^ o/"fprightlywit. For -works may have more -wit than does them good', As bodies ^erif J through excefs of blood. Mr. Pope's eflay on criticifm./». 23, t See Longinus. §. xv. D 4 56 DIALOGUES to reprefent the circumftances of them, in fuch a f lively fenfible manner, that the hearer fliall fancy he aimed: fees them with his eyes, for inftance: if a dry hiftorian were to give an account of Dido's death, he would only fay ; fhe was overwhelmed with forrow af- ter the departure of Aeneas; and that fhe grew weary of her Hfe: fo fhe went up to the top of her palace ; and lying down on her funeral-pile,fhe flabbed herfelf. now thefe words would inform you of the fadl ; but you do not fee it. when you read the flory in * Virgil, he fets f Plus eft evidentia, vel ut alii dicunt, repraefentatio, quam perfpicuitas: et illud quidem patet : haec fe quo- damtnodo oftendit — magna virtus efl,res de quibus loqui- mur, clare atque ut cerni vide- antiiry enunciare. non cnim ufquead aures volet, atque ea fibi judex de quibus cognof- cit, nanari credit, non ex^ri- mi, et oculis mentis q/fendi ■ — atque hujus fummae, judicio quidem meo, virtutis facilli- ma eft via. natursm intuca- mur, hzr\c fequamur — falis efficit, neque ut debet Quintil. lib. viii. c. 3, plenc dominatur oratio , fi ' • Talia dicentem jamdudum averfa tuetur, Hue illuc volvens oculos, totumque pererrat Luminibus tacitis, et fic accenfa profatur: Heuifuriis incenfa feror Turn vero infelix fatis exterrita Dido, Mortem orat: taedet cocli convexa tueri. Ergo ubi concepit furias, evi£la dolore, Decrcvitque mori } tempus lecum ipfamodumque Exigit At regina pyra, penetrali in Cede, fub auras Erefta ingenti, taedis atque ilice fefta Intenditque locum fertis, et fronde coronat Funera: fupcr exuvias, cnfemque reliilum, Effigiemque toro locat — et crines effufa facerdos Tcrccntum tonat ore Deos Ipfa mola, manibufque piis, altaria juxta Unum exuta pcdem vinclis, in vefle recin^ia Teftatur moritura Dcos, etconfcia fati Sidera : turn, fi quod non aequo foedere amantes Curaenumen habet, jufluinque memorqucprccatur. CONCERNING EL OQ,UENCE. S7 it before your eyes, when he reprefents all the circum- ftances of Dido*s defpair; defcribes her wild rage; and death already ftaring in her afped: ; when he makes her fpeakat the fight of the pidureand fwordthatx^ene- as left, your imagination tranfports you to Carthage; where you fee the | Trojan fleet leaving the ftiore , and the queen quite inconfolable. you enter into all her palfions, and into the fentiments of the fuppofed Ipedlators. it is not Virgil you then hear: you are too attentive to the % 1^^ words of unhappy Dido , to Nox erat : et placidum carpebant fefla foporem Corpora per terras ; filvaeque et faeva quierant JEquora : cum medio volvuntur fidera lapfu : Cum tacet omnis ager ; pecudes, piftaeque volucres, Quaeque lacus late liquidos, quaeque afpera dumis Rura tenent, fomno pofitac fub nofte filenti Lenibant curas, et corda oblita laborum. At non infelix animi Phoenifia; neque unquam Solvitur in foranos, oculifveaut peftore noftem Accipit: ingeminant curae, rurfufque refurgens Saeyit amor, magnoque irarum fluftuat aeftu. — - •}• Et jam prima novo fpargebat lumine terras Tithoni croceum linquens aurora cubile : Regina e fpeculis ut primum albefcere lucem Vidit, et aequatis claflem procedere velis ; Littoraque, et vacuos fenfit fine remige portus; Terque quaterque manu peftus percufla decorum, FlaventefqueabfcifTa comas: pro Juf iter \hil Hie, ait, et noftris illuferit advena regnis? Non arma expedient ? totaque ex urbe fequentur ? Diripientque rates alii navalibus? ite, Fcrte ciii fiammas, date vela, impellite remos. Qiiid loquor? aut ubi fum ? quae mentem infania mutat? Infelix Dido\ num te fafta impia tangunt? Kaec ait : et partes animum verfabat in omnes, Invifam quaerens quamprimum abrumpere lucem. \ At trepida, et coeptis immanibus efFera Dido Sanguineam volvens aciem, maculifque trementcs Interfufa genas, et pallida morte futura, Interiora domus irrumpit limina, ct altos yS DIALOGUES think of him. the poet difappears: and we fee only what hedefcribes; and hear thofe only whom he makes to fpeak. fuch Is the force of a natural imitation, and of painting in language, hence it comes that the pain- ters and the poets are fo nearly related: the one paints for the eyes; and the other for the ears: but both of them ought to convey the livelieft pidures to people's imagination. I have taken an example from a poet to give you a livelier image of what I mean by painting in eloquence: for poets paint iu a ftronger manner Confcendit furibunda rogos, enfemque recludit Dardanium ; non hos quaefitum munus in ufus. Hie poftquam lliacas veftes, notumque cubile Confpexit, paulum lachrymis, et mente morata Incubuitque toro, dixitque noviflima verba: Dulces exMviae! dum fata deufque linebant, Accipite hancanimam, meque his exfolvite curis. Vixi, etquem dederat curfum fortuna peregi : Dixit: ct os imprefla toro, moriemur inultae? Sed moriamur, ait. fie, fie juvat ire fub umbras, Hauriat hunc oculis ignem crudeJis ab alto Dardanus, et noftrae fecum ferat omina mortis. Dixerat : atque illam media inter talia ferro Collapfam afpiciunt eomites, enfemque cruore Spumantcm, fparfafque manus. it clamor ad alta Atria: conciiflam bacchatur fama per urbem Lamentis gemituque, etfemineo uhilatu Tefta frcmunt : refonat magnis plangoribus aether. Audiit exanimis, trepidoque exterrita curfu Unguibus ora foror foedans, ct pcftora pugnis Per medios ruit, acmorientem nomine clamat. Sic fata, gradus evaferat altos, Semianimemque, finu germanam amplexa fovcbat Cum gemitu, atque atros ficcabat vefte cruores. lUa graves oculos conata attoUere, rurfus Deficit: infixum flridetfub pe£tore vulnus. Ter fefcattollens, cubitoque adnixa levavit: Ter revoluto toro eft ; oculifque errantibus, alto Qiiacfivit coelo lucem, ingemuitquc reperta. Virg, Aene'id. lib. iv. I CONCERNING EL O Q^U EN C E. fg than orators. Indeed the main thing in which poetry differs from eloquence is, that the poet paints with enthufiafm, and gives bolder touches than the orator, but profe allows of painting in a moderate degree: for, without lively defcriptions it is impoflible to warm the hearer's fancy, or to ftir his pafhons. a plain narrative does not move people: we mufl: not only inform thera of fads; but * ftrike their fenfes, by a lively moving reprefentation of the manner and circumftances of the fadls we relate. C. I never refle(5led on this before, but feeing what you call painting is eflential to oratory; does it not follow that there can be no true eloquence, without a due mixture of poetry? A. You are right: only we mufl: exclude verfificati- on ; that is, a ftrift regard to the quantity of fyl- lables, and the order of words in which the poet is obliged to exprefs his thoughts, according to the mea- fure or verfe he writes in. verfification indeed, if it be in rhime, is what injudicious people reckon to be TO ijUTTfiODcloy K^ lVCiKy]^iQ» a.TnKi TVYO/JLOL, OTOLY oi Kefri^ vrsro tv^ov- To/c ax«w/;' T/ »k n ptlTOptKY] (pOLVTCKTlCC hvVOL' TCLf ; 'oroKKoi /ulIy 'ktc^c ^ OLKXOL TOIQ Kofoiq iVCLyUiVlOi KOiloLKlpYCLJuivYI fCiV^l TCt/C cicrtv, « zar&^et toy OLKfoct" TYIY fJLOVQYy OLKKoi ^ loVhV- rof, Longinus. §,xv. 6o DIALOGUES the whoje of poetry, fome fancy themfel ves to be po- ets , bccaufe they have fpoken or writ in meafured words: but there are many who make verfes, without poetry; and others are very f poetical without making verfes. if therefore we fet verfifying afide, poetry in other refpeds is only a lively fidlion that paints na- ture, and if one has not this genius for painting, he will never be able to imprint things on the hearer's mind: but his difcourfe will be flat, languid, andwea- rifome. ever fince the fall of Adam, men's thoughts have been fo low and grovelling, that they are unat- tentive to moral truths ; and can fcarce conceive any thing but whatafFedls their fenfes. in this confifts the degeneracy of human nature, people grow foon weary of contemplation: ihtelle6lual ideas do not ftrike their imagination: fo that wemuft ufe fenfibleand J fami- liar images to fupport their attention, and convey ab- ftradted truths to their minds, hence it came, that foon after the fall, the religion of all the antients confided of poetry and idolatry ; which were always joined to- gether in their various fchemes of fuperftition. but let us not wander too far you fee plainly that poe- f T/)^ adventures o/Tele- niachus, compofed by our tngc- nioits author, are intirely -written in that poetic frofe he here fpeah of. M. BofTii the greateft 7m- dern critic, does not think that nvcrk can be called a poetn ; but he owns the diftindion that our author heretahes notice of. ' there ' is good rcafon [fays he) to difin- * guijhfuchartlefscompofures [tur- \ Refpicere exemplar vitae inorumque jubcbo Doftum imitatorem, et vcras hinc ducere voces. HoR. deA.P. * Tied into verfe) from true poetry ^ < by giving them the name of ver- ^fification; and to make ofvcicfi- ' fication, and poetry, as it * -were two different arts, and * indeed, is there a greater differ- * ence betwixt grammar, and rhe- * toric; than betwixt the art of ' making verfes, and that of in- * venting a poem? ' Traite du posme epique. Jiv. i. ch. j. CONCERNING EL O Q,U EN CE. 6t try, I mean, the lively painting of things, is, as it were, the very foul of eloquence. G. But if true orators be poets ; I (hould think that poets are orators too: for poetry is very proper to per- fuade. A. Yes ; they have the very fame end. all the dif- ference betwixt them confifts in what I have told you. orators are not polfeft with that enthufiafm which fires the poet's breaft, and renders him more lively, more fublime, and bolder in expreflion. you remember the paflage I quoted from Cicero. C. Which? is it not A. That an orator ought to have the ft He almoft of a poet: that almoft points out the difference between them. C. I underftand you. but you do not come to the point you propofed to explain to us. A. Which? C. The rule for diftinguifhing betwixt witty turns, and folid ornaments. A. You will foon comprehend that, for of what ufe in difcourfe can any ornament be, that does not tend either to prove, to paint, ortoafTedl? C. It may ferve to pleafe. A. We muft diftinguilh here between fuch orna- ments as only pleafe ; and thofe that both pleafe, and perfuade. that which ferves to pleafe in order to per- fuade, is^good and folid: thus we are pleafed with ftrong and clear arguments, the juft and natural e- motions of an orator have much grace and beauty in them: and his exact and lively painting charms us. fo that all the necelTary parts of eloquence are apt to pleafe: but yet pleafing is not their true aim. the 62 DIALOGUES queftion is, whether we (hall approve fuch thoughts and expreflions as may perhaps give an amufing de- light ; but in other refpe^s, are altogether ufelefs : and thefe I call quaint turns, and points of wit. you muft remember now that I allow of all thofe graces of ftile, and delicate thoughts that tend to perfuafion: I only reje(5l thofe vain afFcdled ornaments that the felf- conceited author ufes, to paint his own charadlcr, and amufe others with his wit; inftead of filling their minds entirely with his fubjedt. in fine ; I think we ought to condemn not only all jingle, and playing with words, as a thing extremely mean and boyifti; but even all witty conceits , and fanciful turns ; I mean , fuch thoughts as only flafh and glitter upon the fancy; but contain nothing that is folid, and conducive to per- fuafion. G. I could agree to that ; but that I am afraid fuch feverity would retrench the chief beauties of difcourfe. A. Do not you reckon Homer and Virgil very a- greeable authors? are they not the moft delicate you e- ver read? and yet in them you do not find what we call points of wit. their poems are full of a noble fimplici- ty: their art is entirely concealed: * nature itfelf ap- pears in all that they fay. we do not find a fingle word that feems purpofely defigned to fhew the poet's wit. * Whcnfirjl young M^rofung of kings andivars, *Ere warning Phoebus touch^t his tremblii'g ears. Perhaps he Ceeni*d above the critic'' s law, Atd but from nature^ s fountains fcorn'd to draw: But when t' examine every part he came. Nature, and Homer, were, he found, the fame. Learn hence for antient rules ajuji ejieem ; To copy nature is to copy them. Mr. Pope's eflay on criticifm. />. 13. CONCERNING ELOQUENCE. €i * they thought it their greateft glory never to appear; but to employ our attention on the objects they de- fcribe: as a painter endeavours to fet before your eyes wide forefts, mountains, rivers, diftant views, and buildings ; or the adventures, adions, and different paffions of men, in fuch a lively manner, that you cannot trace the mafterly ftrokes of his pencil: for art looks mean and coarfe when it is perceived. Plato (who had examined this matter more thoroughly than any other orator, or critic,) affures us that in compo- (ing, the f poet (hould always keep out of fight, make himfelf be quite forgot by his readers, and re- ^ Kctf jULoi eiTTi' tTrl- ; cocnn^ cuitoc uv o X^vayi^ TTpuTa/evoli Tromrric (pyj- on (jlolki^ol 'oroimcLj fA.Yi i Kau v • r.iyet re omtoi; o 'aroinlv.^t lldvOtOLV OLKKOUi T^l'STeiY * >i t t / >i » ttf CLKKOQ TIC KiycoV H CW- 7og* TO. Se ^fera tomtu, MTU 'sriTTOiyddj "^lyifmty tii- j>/ re '^ iv IhtQ ^ vTifi Plato de Repub. lib. iii. f E/ Vi yi junla/uv l- ouuToy a'sro'upvTrloflo o ttoi* nnK, xsroLdOL oly ojjtco cL' Y(^ ^ijumiu^ n TTo/ncrti re ^ j^ltyiymnyiyoYiiioiiiii. Ibid. €4. DIALOGUES prefent only thofe things and perfons which he would fet before their eyes, you fee how much the antients excelled us in jull and lofty fentiments. B. I fee the ufe and neceflity of painting, in elo- quence: let us next know the nature and ufe of thofe affeding movements you fpokeof. A. They ferve to raife in the hearer's mind, fuch emotions as anfwer the orator's purpofe. C. But in what do thefe movements of an orator confift? A. In his words, and In the adlions of his body. B. What movement can there be in words? A. A great deal. TuUy tells us, that the very ene- mies of Gracchus could not forbear weeping when { he pronounced thefe words ' miferable man that lam! whither fhall I turn myfelf ? where can I go? to the Capitol? it fwims with my brother's blood, fhall I go to my own houfe? there to fee my unhappy mother dilTolved in tears, and opprelTed with for- row? * this is moving language, but now if one were to fay the fame things in a cold manner, they would lofe all their force. B. Think you fo? A. Let us try. ' I know not where to go , nor ' whither I (hould turn myfelf, amidft my misfortunes. < the Capitol is the place where my brother's blood was I Qui J fuit in Grarcho^(]uem tu, Catule, melius meminifti, quod me puero tantopere fer- rctur? t^uo me mifer conferamF quo vcrtam? in Capitolhtmne? at fratris fanguine redimdat. an do- ■nium? matremne ut miferam la- mentaritemque videam, et ahjec- conftabat oculis, voce, geftu, inimici ut lachrymas tcnerc non poflent. haec eodico plu- rlbus, quod genus hoc totum oratorcs, qui funt veritatis ip- fius adores, reliquerunt; imi- tatores autem veritatis, hiftri- ones, occupaverunt. Cicde tarn? quae fic ab illo flffi Tt^vn I TiKeio^, mU* ay fvai; et- 7^ DIALOGUES aft imitation, that it may pafs for nature itfelf. but to fpeak the truth, orators in fuch cafes, are like poets •who write elegies or other paflionate verfes; they muft •|- feel the paffion they defcribe, elfe they can never paint it well, the greatcfl: art imaginable can never fpeak like :t true pafTi on, and undifguifcd nature, fo that you will always be but an iniperfe(5t orator, ifyou be not thorowly moved with thofe fentinients that you paint, and would infufe into others, nor do I fay this from a pious motive: I fpeak now only as * an ora- tor. B. The cafe, I think, is abundantly plain: but you fpoke to us of the eyes : have they their rhetoric too ? 'oriTV^yK;, orav hoLv^ocv)i- Longinus. §. xxii. f Ut ridentibus arrident, ita flentibus adfunt Humani vultus. fi vis me flere, dolendum eft Primiim ipfi tibi ■ male fi mandata loqueris, Aut dormitabo, aut ridt-bo. triftia moeftum Vultum verba decent : iratum plena minarum. Fonnat enim natura priusnos intus ad omnem Fortunarum habitum ; juvat, aut impellit ad iram. Aut ad humum mocrore gravi dcducit, et angit : Poft eiFert animi motus intcrprete lingua. Hor. de A. P. t eapp^v ^b' aOoPKTaj- \ , * Nequc fieri poteft ut do- "*" II- ^. ' ^ Icat IS qui audit, ut oderit, ut invideat, ut pertimefcat ali- quid , nifi omnes ii motus quos orator adhiberc volet jii- dici, in ipfo oratore imprcfli, atque inufti videbuntur — ut enim nulla materies tarn faci- fjim (X.V u; vhiv «TWf Ct)f TO yuac/af Tivoi;, ^ wnvixx- ro(; h^kiaiOLTDcZ Uyrviov, ^ ]\s adexardcfcendum eft, quae Longinus. § nifi admoto igni ignem conci- pere poflit : fie nulla mens eft tam ad comprchendendam CONCERNING E L O Q,U E N C E. 77 A. Yes; if you will believe ff Tully, and other antient orators, nothing is more intelligible than the afpe^: it expreiTes every paflion of the foul, and in the afpedt, the eyes are moft adlive and fignificant. one well timed look will pierce to the bottom of the heart. B . The preacher we were fpeaking of, has ufually his eyes fhut. when we obfervc him near, it is very fhocking. A. It is difagreeable becaufe we perceive that he wants one of the chief things that ought to enliven his difcourfe. B, But why does he fo? A. He makes hafte to pronounce his words; and Ihuts his eyes, becaufe it helps his labouring me- mory. B. I obferved indeed that it was very much bur- dened: fometimes he repeated feveral words to find out the thread of his difcourfe. fuch repetitions make one look like a carelefs fchool-boy that has forgot his leflbn. they are very difagreeable; and would not be ealily excufed in a preacher of lefs note. A. It is not fo much the preacher's fault as the de- feat of the method he follows, after many others, fo vim oratoris parata,quae pof- commutationes poflit efficere (it incendi, nifi inflammatus — oculi funt quorum turn in- ipfe ad earn, et ardens accef- ; tentione, turn remiffione, turn feris. j conjeftu, turn hilaritate mo- Cic. de Orat lib. ii. §. 4s. tus animorumfignificemusap- ff Sed in ore funt omnia. ! te cum genere ipfo orationis : in eo autcm iplb dominatus | eft enim aBio quad fermo cor- eft omnis ocuhrum — animi e- j poris ; quo magis menti con- nim eft omnis aftio ; et ima go animi vultus eft, indices o- culi. nam haec eft una pars corporis quae quot animi mo- gruens cfTe debet. — quare in hac noftra aftione lecundum voccm vultus valet : is autcra \ oculis gubernatur. tus funt, tot fjgnificationcs, et I Cic. de Orat, lib, iii. §. $9 7* DIALOGUES long as men preach by heart, and often, they will be apt to fall into this perplexity. B. How do you mean? would you have us not preach by heart? without doing fo, one could not make an exa6t pithy difcourfe. A. I am not againft a preacher's getting fome par- ticular fermons by heart, they may always have time enough to prepare themfelves for extraordinary oc- cafions. and they might even acquit themfelves hand- fomely without fuch great preparation, B. How? this feems incredible. A. If I be miftaken, I (hall readily own it. let us only examine the point without prepoflTefTion. what is the chief aim of an orator? is it not to perfwade? and in order to this, ought he not to afFedl his hearers, by moving their paffions? B. I grant it. A. The moft lively and moving way of preaching Is therefore the beft. B. True: what do you conclude from that? A. Which of two orators will have the moft power- ful and affefling manner; he who learns his difcourfe by heart; or he who fpeaks without reciting word for word what he had ftudyed? B. He, I think, who has got his difcourfe by heart. A. Have patience: and let us ftate the queftion right, on the one hand, I fuppofe a man prepares his difcourfe exadly, and learns it by heart to the leaft fyllable .on the other hand, I fuppofe another perfon who fills his mind with the fubje(^ he is to talk of; who fpeaks with great eafe; (for, you would not have any body * attempt to fpeak in public, without hav- * Ego nee ftudiiim fine divite vena, Nee rude quid profit video ingenium Hor, de A. P» CONCERNING E L O Q,U E N C E. 7^ ing proper talents for it:) in ftiort, a man who has at- tentively confidered all the principles, and parts of thefubjediheis to handle; and has a comprehenfive view of them in all their extent; who has reduced his thoughts into a proper method; and prepared the ftrongeft expreflions to explain and inforce them in a fenfible manner; who ranges all his arguments, and has a fufficient number of afFeding figures: fuch a man certainly knows every thing that he ought to fay; and the order in which the whole (hould be placed : f to fucceed therefore in his delivery, he wants no- thing but thofe common expreffions that muft make the bulk of his difcourfe. but do you believe now that fuch a perfon would have any difficulty in finding eafy familiar expreffions? B. He could not find fuch jufl and handfome ones as he might have hit on, if he had fought them leifure- ly in his clofet. felf the -whole body of divimty j and accuftom himfelfto explain^ and prove ; to clear ohjeRions ; and to apply every part of it to fome praftical ufe and if in thefe his meditations, happy thoughts, and noble tender expref- fions, do at any time offer them- felves, he niuj} not lofe them; hut "ivrite them down by a very few years praBice of two or three of f.tch foliloqities a-day, chiefly in the morning when the head is clearcft, and the fpirits are live- liefl, a man will contraB a great eaftnefs both in thinking , and fp caking. Bp. Burnet's difc. on the paftoral care, /. 210, 211. f He then that would prepare hhnfelf to be a preacher in this method, muft accuftom himfelf to talk freely to himjelf to let his thoughts flow from him ; efpeci- ally when he feels an edge and heat upon his mind : for then hap- py expreffions will come in his mouth — he muft alfo be writing effays upon all forts offubjeBs; for by writing he will bring himfelf to a correBnefs both in thinking and in fpcaking : and thus by a hard praBice for two or three years, a man may render himfelf fuch a mafter in this way, that he can never be fur prized \ nor "will new thoughts ever dry up u- pon him, he muft talk over to him- 8o DIALOGUES I own that, but according to you, he would lofe only a few. ornaments: and you know how to rate that lofs according to the principles we laid down be- fore, on the other fide, what advantage muft he not have in the freedom and force of his action: which is the main thing, fuppofing that he has applyed him- felfrauch tocompofing, (as X Cicero requires of an orator,) that he has read all thebeft models; and has a natural or acquired eafinefs of ftileandfpeech; that he has abundance of folid knowledge and learning; that he underftands his fubjecl perfedly well; and has ranged all the parts and proofs of it in his head : in fuch a cafe we muft conclude that he will fpeak with force, and f order, and readinefs. his periods perhaps will not footh the ear fo much as the others; and for that reafon he muft be the better orator, his tranfiti- ons may not be fo fine: it is no great matter : tho* thefe he might have prepared without getting them by heart: befides, thefe little omiflions were common to the moft eloquent orators among the ancients, they thought fuch negligence was very natural; and ought even to be imitated, to avoid the appearance of too great preparation, what then could our orator want? he might make fome little repetition: but that f: Caput autem eft, quod | neque injuria: nam fl fubitam (ut vere dicam) minime faci- j etfortuitam orationcm, com- mus, (eft enim magni laboris, i mentatio, et cogitatio facile quern plerlque fugimus)quam vincit; banc ipfam profeflo plurimum fcribere ftilus aflldua ac diiigens fcriptura optimus, et praeftantiflimus fuperabit. De Orat, lib. i. dicendi effeftor, ac magifter ; §. 33. \ cui lefta potentcrerit res, Nee facundia deferithunc, nee lucidusordo. Verbaque provifam rem non invita fequentur. HOR, de A. P, coNcCRNiNG E L O (iUE N C E. 8r too muft have its ufe. not only will the judicious hea« rer take a pleafure in obferving nature here, which leads one often to refume whatever view of the fubjecl: flrikes ftrongeft upon the mind: but likewife this re- petition imprints the truth more deeply; which is the bed manner of inftrniftion. at the w^orft, one might find in his difcourfe fome inaccuracy of conflrudtion, fome obfolete word that has been cenfured by the aca- demy; fomething that is irregular; orjifyou will, fome weak or mifapplyed expreffion that he may happen to drop in the warmth of aftion. but furely they mufl: have narrow fouls who can think fuch little efcapes worth any one's notice, there is abundance of thefe to be met with in the moft * excellent originals, the greatefl: orators among theantients negleded them: and if our views were as noble as theirs, we (hould not fo much regard thofe f trifles, which can amufe none but fuch as are not able to difcern and purfue * rra^aTeS-tyaeVoc ^' ruv ocKKcov 0701 juiyt^oi, ^ \ yocKo(pvta; aMTTidTc/LTQt; yr/,iTOi T5?c T/lajajucia-iv a- | TrxfiymiyiUhoc' ^i^/^opS^o(;, op.u;li^X^'\ -^o^gi^'-^s. §. xxxiii. y.O!.f>T'r,y.Oi\a JUCCKKOV CLJUTCt j f Sunt deli£la tamen, quibus ignovifle velimus: Nam neque chorda fonum reddit quern vultmanus etmens; Pofcentique gravem perfaepe remittit acutum: Nee femper feriet quodcunque minabitur arcus. Verum ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis OfFendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit, Aut hmnana parum cavit natura — • Hor, de A, P. F 82 DIALOGUES what is truly great, excufe my freedom, Sir: if I did not think you had a genius very different from thefe little, cavilling critics I condemn, I ihould fpeak of them with greater caution. B. You may always fpeak your mind, Sir, with- out any referve on my account, be pleafed therefore to go on with yonr comparifon. A. Confiderthen, in the next place, the advanta- ges that a preacher muft have who does not get his fer- mon by heart, he is intirely mailer of himfelf : he fpeaks in aneafy unafFeded wayjand not like a formal declaimer. things flow then from their proper fource. if he has a natural talent for eloquence, his language muftbe lively and moving: even the -)• warmth thata- nimateshim, muft lead him tofuch pertinent expref- lions, and figures, as he could not have found out by ftudy. f But the rule I have ohfer- authority in the fimpkjl things ved laji, is the moji necejpiry of that can be /aid, when they carry all : and "without it all the reft vifible charaBers of genuinenefs in tvill never do the buftnefs : it is them, now if a man can carry this : that a man muft have in on this method, and by much me- himfelf a deep fenfe of the truth ditation and prayer, draw down and power of religion : he muft divine influences, which are al~ lave a life and flamcinhis thoughts ways to he expe^ed when a man with relation to thcfc fithjeBs : puts himfelf in the way of theju y he muft have felt himfelf thofe and prepares himfelf for them; he things which he intends to explain will always feel that while he is 'and recommend toothers, he muft mufing, a fire is kindled tvf//;- obferve narrowly the motions of in him ; and then he will fpeak his own 7nind ; that fo he may with authority, and without con- have a lively heat in himfelf when ftraint : his thoughts will be true, he fpeaks of them ; and that he and his expreftions free and cafy. 7nay fpeak in Jo fenfible a manner, Difcourfe of the palloral that it may he almoft felt that he care. />. Ill, 112. fpeaks from his heart, there is an CONCERNING EL O Q^UE NCE. 83 B. Why? furely a man may enliven his fancy, and compofe very fprightly difcourfes in his clofet. A. I own that: buta juft elocution and geflure mull: (till give them a greater life, and fpirit, befides, what one fays in the ardour of adion is far more na- tural and aitedting : it has a negligent air; and difco- vers none of that art which is vifible in all elaborate compofures. we may add farther, that a skilful ex- perienced orator :t adapts things to the capacity of his hearers; and varys his difcourfe according to the impreffion he fees it makes upon their minds, for, he eafily perceives whether they underltand him, or not; and whether he gains their attention, and moves their hearts: and if it be needful, he refumes the fame things in a different manner, and fets them in another light: he cloaths them in more familiar images, and compa- rifons: or he goes back to the plained principles,from which he gradually deduces the truths he would en- force: or he endeavours to cure thofe paHions, that hinder the truth from making a due impreffion. this is the true art of inftrudtion and perfwafion: and with- out this addrefs and prefence of mind, we can only make roving and fruitlefs declamations, obfervenow how far the orator who gets every thing by heart, falls fhort of the other's fuccefs. if we fuppofe then a man to preach who depends intirely on his memory, and dares not pronounce a word different from his lelfon; his ftile will be very exadt: but, as Dionyfius ^ Erit jgltur haec facultas In eo quem volumus elTe elo- qucntem, ut definire rem nof- fit ; neque id faciat tarn prclle et angufte, quain in illis cru- aitlHimis difputationibus fieri V foletjfed cumexplanatius,tum etiam uberius, et ad commu- ne judicium, popiilaremque m- teUigentiam accommodatius — Cic. Onif.§.33. 34 DIALOGUES Halicarnafiens obferves of Ifocrates, his compofition muft pleafe more when it is read, than when it is pronounced, befides, let him take what pains he will, the inflexions of his voice will be too uniform; and always a little conftrained. he is not like a man that fpeaks to an audience; but like a rhetorician whore- cites or declaims, his adion muft be aukward and for- ced: by fixing his eyes too much, he (hews how much his memory labours in his delivery: and he is afraid to give way to an unufualj emotion, left he ftiould lofe the thread of his difcourfe. now the hearer perceiving fuch an undifguifed art, is fo far from being touched, and captivated, as he ought to be, that he obferves the fpeaker's artifice with coldnefs and neglecft. B. But did not the antient orators do what you condemn? A. I believe not. B. What! do you think that Demofthenes and Tul- ly did not learn by heart thofe finifhed orations they have left us? A. We know very well that they compofed and wrote their harangues, before they fpake in public: but we have feveral reafons to believe that they did not get them by heart, word for word, even the orations of Demofthenes, as we have them, (hew rather the fublimity and vehemence of a great genius that was accuftomed to fpeak powerfully of public affairs; than the accuracy and politenefs of an author, as for Cice- ro, in feveral places of his harangues, we find things fpoken on fudden emergencies, that he could not pof- liblyhave forefeen. and if we take his f opinion of f Sed verborum memoria, j majorc imaginum varietate quae minui eft nobis rKcefaria, | diftinguitur : multa cnim Cunt CONCERNING EL O Q_UEN CE. 8y this matter; he thinks an orator ought to have a great memory: and he even fpeaks of an artificial kind of memory as an ufeful invention; but all he fays on this point does not imply that we ought to learn every word by heart, on the contrary, he feems only to re- quire, that we fhould range all the parts of a difcourfe exactly in our memory, and prepare the figures and chief expreflions we are to ufe; fo as to be ready to add off-hand whatever may occafionally be fuggefted from a view of the audience, or unexpected accidents, and it is for this reafon, that he requires fo much ap- plication and prefence of mind in an orator. B. You muft allow me to tell you. Sir, that all this does not convince me: for I cannot beHeve that one can fpeak fo very well, without having prepared and adjuftedall hisexprefiions. C. The reafon why it is fo hard to perfuade you in this cafe, is,becaufe you judge of the matter by com- mon experience, if they who get their fermons by heart, were to preach without that preparation, it is likely they would fucceed but very ill: nor am I fur- prifed at it: for, they are not accuftomed to follow nature: they haveftudyed only to compofe their fer- mons; and that too with affe(n:ation . they have never once thought of f fpeaking in a noble, fl:rong,and na- verba,quae quafi articiili con- neftunt membra orationis,quae formari fimilitudine nulla pof funt : ecrum fingendae nobis funt imagines, qmhuskmptv u- tamur. reriim memoviz, propria eft oratoris: earn fingulis pcr- fonis bene pofitis notare pof bus, ordlnem locis comprehen- damus. De Orat. lib. ii. §. 88. 'f This leads me to confider the difference that is betTveen the reading,flH^ //;t' fpeaking offer- mons. reading is peculiar to this nation : and is endured in no o- fumus, ut fcnteniias imagini- ther. it has indeed made our fir- 3 8 B. I grant that the fchool-men are a very bad mo- del for eloquence: but what form did theantients ufe to give their difcourfes? A. They did not divide them; but they pointed out carefully all thofe things that ought to be diftin- guillied: to each of them f they afligned its proper place; after having attentively confidered where it might be introduced to the beft advantage, and be fit- teft to make a due impreffion.ofttimes that which would feem nothing to the purpofe, by being unfeafonably urged, has a very great weight when it is referved for its proper place; till the audience be prepared by other things to feel all its force and confequence. nay a fingle word when happily applyed, willfet the truth in the ftrongeft light. Cicero tells us that we ought fometimes to delay giving a full view of the truth, till the very conclufion. But then, throughout ourdif- courfe there ought to run fuch a concatenation of proofs, as that the firft may inake way for the fecond: and the next always fervetofupport the former, we ought at firft to give a general view of our fubjed, and endeavour to gain the favour of the audience by a J f Ordinis haec virtus erit, et venus, aut ego fallor, Ut jam nunc dicat, jam nunc debentia dici Pleraque difFerat, et praelens in tempus omittat — Infelix operis fumma, quia ponere totum Nefciet HoR. de A. V, \ Sed haec adjuvant in o- ctatls, grati animi, non appe- ratore, lenitas vocis, vultus, tentis, non avidi figna profer- pudoris fignificatio, verborum ri pcrutile eft — tantum autem comitas : fi quid perfequare efficitur fenfu quodam ac ra- acrius, ut invitus, et coaftus tione dicendi, ut quafi mores facere videare. facilitatis, li- oratoris eflingat oratio. beralitatis, manfuetudinis, pi- Cic, Ai Orat, lib. ii. §, 43. 50 DIALOGUES mode{lintrodu(aion,a refpediflil addrefs, and the ge- nuine marks of candour and probity, then we fliould eftabllfli thofe principles on which wedeiign to argue; and in a clear, eafy, fenfible manner propofe the prin- cipal fads we are to build on; infixing chiefly on thofe circumftances, of which we intend to make ufe afterwards, from thefe principles and facts we mnft draw juft confequences; and argue in fuch a clear and well -connedted manner, that all our proofs may fup- porteach other; and fo be the more remembered, eve- ry ftep we advance, our difcourfe ought to grow ftron- ger;fo that the hearers may gradually perceive the force and evidence of the truth: and then we ought to dif- play it in fuch lively images and movements as are proper to excite the pafllons. in order to this we muft know their various fpriTgs,and the mutual dependence they have one upon another; which of them we can ^oft eafiiy move, and employ to raife the reft; and which of them in fine, is able to produce the greateft: cffeds; and mufl; therefore be applyed to, in the con- clufionofour difcourfe. it is ofttimes proper, at the clofe, to make a fhort recapitulation, in which the o- rator ought to exert all his force and skill in giving the audience a full, clear, concife view of the chief topics he has enlarged on. in fhort, one is not obliged al- ways to follow this method without any variation, there are exceptions, and allov/ances, to be made, for different fubjeds and occafions. and even in this or- der I have propofed, one may find an endlefs variety, but now you may eafily fee that this method (which is chiefly taken from TuUy,) cannot be obferved in a difcourfe that is divided into three parts, nor can it be followed in each particular divifion. we ought CONCERNING E L O Q^UE N C E. pt therefore to chufe fome method, Sir, but fuch a me* thod as is not difcovered, and promifed, in the begin- ning of ourdifcourfe. Cicero tells us that the befl: me- thod is generally to conceal the order we follow, till we lead the hearer to it without his being aware of it before. 1 remember he fays, in exprefs terms, that we ought to conceal even the number of our arguments; fo th.t one (hall not be able to count them, tho' they be very diftind in themfelves: and that we ought not plainly to point out the divifion of a difcourfe. but fuch is the undiftinguifhing tafte of thefe latter ages, that an audience cannot perceive any order, unlefs thefpeaker dlftincStly explain it in the beginning; and even intimate to them hisgridual advances from the firft to the fecond, and following general heads, or fubdivifions, of his difcourfe. C. But do not divifions help to fupport the atten- tion, and eafe the memory of the hearers? it is for their better indrudion that the fpeaker divides his dif- courfe. A. A divifion chiefly relieves the fpeaker's me- mory, and even this elfedt might be much better ob- tained by his following a natural order without my exprefs diviiion: for, the true connection of things beft diredts the mind, our common divifions are of ufe to thofe only who have ftudied, and been trained up to this method in the fchools. and if the common people retain the divifion better than the reft of the fermon; it is only becaufe they hear it often repeated : but generally fpeaking they beft remember pra»5tical points, and fuch things as ftrike their fenfes and ima- gination. B. The order you propofe may be proper enough 92 DIALOGUES forfome fubje^ts: but it cannot be fit for all: for, we have not always fads to lay down. A. When we have none, we muft do without them: but there are very few fubjeds into which they might not be aptly introduced, one of Plato's chief beauties is, that in the beginning of his moral pieces he ufually gives us fome fragment of hiftory, or fome tradition that ferves as the foundation of his difcourfe. this method would far more become thofe who preach reli- gion; which is entirely founded upon tradition, hif- tory , and the mofl: antient records, indeed moil: preachers argue but weakly; and do not inftrucl people fufficiently, becaufe they do not trace back things to thefe fourccs. B. We have already given you too much trouble, Sir, and I am almoft afhamed to detain you longer: but I wifh heartily you would allow me to ask you a- few more queftions concerning the rules of public difcourfe. A. With all my heart : I am not yet weary: you may difpofe , as you pleafe , of the little time I have left. B. Well then, you would have all falfe and trifling ornaments entirely baniflied from difcourfe. now, tho' you touched upon this point before, pray fhew me by fome fenfible examples how to * diftinguifhfuch * Folfe eloquence, like the prifmaiic glijfs, JVs gaudy colours fpreads on cv'ry place; The face of nature we no more furvey^ j4ll glares alike, -without dijVinHion gay. But true exprejfion, like th^ unchanging fun^ Clears and improves whatever it pines upon. It gilds allohjc^s, but it alters none. CONCERNING EL O Q^UEN CE. 9j falfe beauties from thofe that are folid and natural. A. Do you love quavering notes in mufic ? are you not better pleafed with tho fe brisk fignificant notes that defcribe things, and exprefs thepaflions. B. Yes, certainly: for, quavers are of no ufe: they only amufe the ear, and do not affed: the mind, our mufic was once full of them ; and was therefore very weak and confufed: but now we begin to refine our tafte, and to come nearer the mufic of the antients ; which is a kind of paflionate declamation, that adts powerfully upon the foul. A. I knew that mufic, of which you are fo good a judge, would ferve to make you underftand what con- cerns eloquence, there ought to be a kind of elo- quence in mufic itfelf: and in both thefe arts we ought to reje(n: all falfe and trilling beauties, do you not perceive now that by a trilling difcourfe I mean the humming jingle of languid uniform periods; a chiming of words that returns perpetually, like the burden of a fong? this is the falfe eloquence that refemblesbad mufic. B. I wifii, Sir, you could make It a little plain- er ftill. A. The reading of good and bad orators will more effedlually form your tafte, on this point, than all the rules in the world, however it were eafy to fatisfy you by feme pertinent examples. I will not mention any modern ones; tho' we abound in falfe ornaments, that I may not offend any perfon, let us return to I- focrates who is the ftandard of thofe nice and florid Exprejjlon is the drefs of thought, andjlill A^pean more decent^ as more fut able. Mr. Pope's eflay on criticifra. 94 DIALOGUES harangues that are now in vogue, did you ever read his famous panegyric on Helen? B. Yes: I have read it foine time ago, A. How did you like it? B. Extremely well. I thought I never faw fo much wit, elegance, fweetnefs, invention, and delicacy in any compofure. I own to you that Homer himfelf (whom 1 read afterwards , ) did not feem to have fo much fpiritashe. but now that you have (hown me what ought to be the true aim of poets and orators, 1 fee plainly that Homer, who concealed his art, vaft- ly furpalfes ifocrateswho took fo much pains todif- play his skill, but I was once charmed with that ora- tor, and fhould have been fo ftill, if you had not un- deceived me. Mr. is the Ifocrates of our days: and I perceive that by (hewing the defcds of that an- tient orator, you condemn all thofe who imitate his florid effeminate rhetoric. A. I am nov/ fpeaking of ifocrates only in the beginning of his encomium he magnifies the love that Thefeus had for Helen, and fancyed that he fiiould givealofty ideaof her, by defcribing the heroic qua- lities of that great man who fell in love with her: as if Thefeus (whom the antients always reprefent as weak and inconflantin his amours,) could not have been fmitten with a woman of a moderate beauty, then becomes to the judgment that Paris formed of her. he fays that a difpute having arifen among the goddeffes concerning their beauty; they agreed to make Paris judge of it: upon which occafion Juno proffered him the empireofAfia: Minerva affurel him of conftant vidory in battles: and Venus tempted him with the beautiful Helen, now feeing Paris^ when he coNCERNtNG EL O QU EN C E. pf was to determine this matter, could not behold the fa- ces of thofe goddelTes, becaufe of their dazling fplen- dour, he could only judge of the worth of the three things that they offered', and upon the comparifon he preferred Helen to empire, and to vidtory. then the orator praifes the judgment of Paris, in whofe deter- mination the goddeiTes themfelves acquiefced; and adds thefe remarkable words: * *I wonder that any * one (hould think Paris indifcreet in chufing to live * with her, for whom many demi-gods would have * been willing to die.' C. This puts me in mind of our preachers who are fo full of antithefesandturnsofwit. there are a great many fuch orators as ifocrates. A. He is their mafter! all the reft of his panegyric is of the:]: fame ftrain. it is founded on the long war of Troy; the calamities that the Greeks fufFered for the rape of Helen, and thepraife of beauty which has fo much power over men. there is nothing in the whole difcourfe fohdly proved; nor the leaft point of moral inftrudtion . he j udges of the worth of things only according to mens extravagant pafHons. and as his proofs are weak; fo his ftile is flouriihed and lini- * Qcw/uoL^co 6 « T/c >^x- ccv etyj avojiro^ et roic oiiTOLi Kav.uQ (^iCvKivd^at 3eac etluc ■nrep? yc'XKKVQ H jui^iQV (X.7ro^yyi(jKeiv vM- KmoLv, Ilocr. Hel. Laud. :j: His very next words are thefe, ■ ,. , nwc ^' rouuTm hoy.KJi jiiiyi^r,v c-i- ^«fwaf ; Ibid. ^5 DIALOGUES cal. I quoted this paffage, profane as it is, becaufe it is a very famous one ; and bccaufe this afFe<5led man- ner is very much in fafhion. the more grave difcourfes of Tfocratcs are compofed in the fame fpruceeffenii- nate way; and are full of fuch falfe beauties as that I now mentioned. C. I find you like none of thofe witty turns which have nothing in them that is cither folid, natural, or affeding; and tend neither to convince, nor paint, nor perfwade. the example you have brought from I- focrates, tho' it be upon a trifling fubjeft, is yet very pertinent: for, all fuch tinfel-wit muft appear flill more ridiculous when it is applyed to grave and feri- ous matters. A. But, Sir, as to Ifocrates, do not you think I had reafon to cenfure him as freely as Tully aflures us Ariftotle did. B. What fays Tully? A. f That Ariftotle perceiving Ifocrates had per- verted eloquence from its proper ufe to amufement and oftentation; and thereby drawn to himfelf the mod confidcrable difciples, he applyed to him a verfe of Philo6tetes, to ftiev/ how much he was afhamed of being filent while that vain declaimer carryed all be- fore him. but I have done now: it is time for me to be going. B. We cannot part with you fo foon, Sir: will you then allow of no antithcfes? A. Yes: when the things we fpeak of are naturally oppofite one to another, it may be proper enough to fhew their oppofition. Such antithcfes are juft, and have a folid beauty, and a right application of them t Lib.3.§. 3j. CONCERNING E L O Q^U E N C E. 97 IS often themofl: eafy and concife manner of explain- ing things, but it is extremely childifli to ufe artifici- al turns and windings to make words clafh and play one agalnft another, at firft, this may happen to dazle thofe who have no taite: but they foon grow weary of fuch afilly affedlation. did you ever obferve the Gothic architedure of our old churches? B. Yes; it is very common. A. Did you take notice of the rofes, holes, un* conneded ornaments, and disjointed little knacks that thefe Gothic buildings are full of. thefe odd con- ceits are juft fuch beauties in architedlure as forced antithefes and quibbles are in eloquence, the Grecian architecture is far more fimple, and admits of none but natural, folid and majeftic ornaments: we fee no- thing in it but what is great, proportioned, and well placed, but the Gothic kind was invented by the Ara- bians; who being a people of a quick fprlghtly fancy; and having no rule, nor culture, could fcarce avoid falling into thefe whimfical niceties, and this viva- city corrupted their tafte in all other things. for,they ufed fophifms in their logic: they loved little knacks in architecture; and invented witticifms in poetry and eloquence, all thefe are of the fame kind. B. This is curious indeed, you think then that a fermonfull of forced antithefes, and fuch kind of or- naments, Is like a church buiit in the Gothic way. A. Yes: I think the comparlfon is juft. B. Let me ask you but one queftion more ; and then you (liall go. A. What is it? B. It feems very difficult to give a particular ac- count of faClS; in a noble ftile: and yet we ought to do G pS DIALOGUES fo if we ta\k folidly as you require, pray, what is the proper (Vile for expatiating in fuch cafes? A. We are fo much afraid of alow drain, that our expreffions arc ufually dry,lifelefs,and indeterminate, they who praife a faint, pitch on the moft magnifi- cent phrafes: they tell us he was an admirable perfon; that his virtues were celedial* that he was rather an angel, than a man. and thus the whole encomium is a mere declamation, without any proof; and without drawing a jull charader. on the contrary, the ancient Greeks made little ufe of thefe general terms which prove nothing: but they infifted much on fadts, and the particulars of a chara6ter. for inftance Xenophon does not once fay in all his Cyropaedia, that Cyrus was an admirable man: but throughout the work he makes us really admire him. thus it is that we ought to praife holy perfons, by entering into the particular detail of their fentiments and a<5tions. but there pre- vails an afFedled politenefs among the pedantic and conceited part of all ranks and profcflions, who value themfclves upon their wit, or learning, they never venture to ufe any cxpreifion but what they reckon fine and uncommon, they talk always in a * high drain; and would think it beneath them to call things by their proper names, now in true eloquence almoft every thing may be introduced, the perfecfHon of po- etry itfeif, (which is the loftieil kind of compofurc) de- * Prima eft eloqucntiac vir- tus perfpicuitas ; ct quo quif- que ingenio minus valet, hoc dos, et corruptos, ct iinnuhs, et quocumquc alio cacozeliae ge- nere pcccantes, certum habeo, l"e magis attollere,ct dilatare co- I non virium, fed vifirrnitat'ts vi- natur; ut ftatura breves in di- i tio laborare: ut corpora non gitos eriguntur J et plura in- ' robore, fed valetudinc, inflan- firmi minantur. nam tumi- tur. Qiiint. lib,n,c. 3. CONCERNING EL O Q^U E N C E. 99 pends on a full and lively defcriptlon ofthings in all their circumftances. when Virgil reprefents the Tro- jan fleet leaving the African fiiore or arriving on the coaft of Italy, you fee every proper circumftance ex- actly defcribed. but we mufl: own that the Greeks en- tered ftill further into the particular detail of things ; and followed nature more clofely in reprefenting the fmallell circumftances. for which reafon, many people would be apt (if they dared) to reckon Homer too plain and fimple in his narrations, in this antienfe beautiful fimplicity,(which few are able to reHlh,) this poet very much refembles the holy fcripture: but in many places the facred writings furpafs his, as much as he excells all the other antients, in a natural and lively reprefentation ofthings. B. In relating fads then ought we to defcribe eve- ry individual circumftance that belongs to them? A. No: we fhould reprefent nothing to the hear- ers but what deferves their attention; and helps to give aclear and juft idea of the things we defcribe: fo that it requires great judgment to make a right :j: choice of circumftances. but we muft not be afraid of mentioning fuch as can be any-way ferviceable: for it is afalfe politenefs that leads us to fupprefs fome ufeful things, becaufe we do not think them capable of any ornament, befides, Homer has fliown us by his example, that we might give a * proper grace and em- beliifhment to every fubje<5t. \ See Longinus. §. x. * Fir/i follow nature, and yow judgment frams By her juft Jiandard, -which is ftill the fame: Unerring nature ^ ftill divinely bright, Oneckarj imchang'dj and miverfal light', G 2 100 DIALOGUES B. Seeing you condemn the florid fwelling ftile; what kind do you reckon fittcfl for public ufe? A. There ought to be a variety of ftile in every dif- courfe. we fliould rife in our expreffion when we fpeak of lofty fubjeds; and be \ familiar, in common ones, without being coarfe, or grovelling, in moft cafes, an eafy fimplicity and exacflnefs is fufficient: tho' fome things require vehemence, and fublimity. if a painter fhould draw nothing but magnificent palaces, he could not follow truth; but muft paint his own fancies; and by that means, foon cloy us. he ought to copy na- ture in its agreeable varieties: and after drawing a ftately city, it might be proper to reprefent a defart, and the huts offhepherds. moft of thofe who aim at making fine harangues injudicioufly labour to cloath all their thoughts in a * pompous gaudy drefs: and Life, force, and beauty mujl to all impart , yit once the fource, and end, and ieft of art. Art from that fund each jiifi fupply provides. Works ivithout fijoiu ; and ivithout -pomp prefides. Thofe rules of old dijcover'dy not devised, yire nature ftill, hut nature methodized: Kfaturelike jnonarchy, is but rcfiroin''d jBy the fame laivs -which firji herfelf ordain'' d. Mr. Pope's Eflay on Criticifm. fJLOQ IVlOTi 7\i V.O(TfA.M ZTOL- ^dTTOKv ejufavis-iKcoTipov' iZ[rtyivuayi£TCCf y) cuuro^iv i)t TuytoivM (^i'ts.ro tlcrvv- „N , aperit, ornatumque oraUonis y)^iQ nhn 'GTi^oti^ov . , exponit mala afredatio, rcwTOL ^b' ifyvQ 'UTOLOOL^u- \ V^^ omne dicendi genus pcc- , ' ^ , , , , tat. nam et tumida, et exilia, et Tr,v ibiQ rnvy ahh ovh, ! ct praedulcia, et abundantia, Lbiodrivet TCt) anjuayTiKco' Longinus. §. xxxi. * Namque illud genus o- ftentationi compofitum.folum petit audientium voluptatem: ideoque omnes dicendi artes co!^cERKiNG ELOQ^UENCE. loi they fancy that they have fucceeded happily, when they exprefs fome general remarks in a florid lofty ftile. their only care is to fill their difcourfe with abundance of ornaments, to pleafe the vitiated tafte of their au- dience: like ignorant cooks who know not how to feafon diflies, in a proper,natural way; but fancy they muft give them an exquifite relifh by mixing exceffive quantities of the moft feafoning things, but the ftile of a true orator has nothing in it that is fwelling or oftentatious: he always adapts it to the fubjeds he treats of, and the perfons he inftrudts: and manages itfo judicioufly that he never aims at being fublime and lofty, but when he ought to be fo. ^ B. What you faid concerning the language of fcripture,makes me wifli earneftly that you would (hew us the beauty of it. may we not fee you fome time to-morrow? A. I (hall hardly have time to-morrow: but I will endeavour to wait on you this evening, and fince you feemfo defirous of it, we will talk of the word of God: for hitherto we have only fpoken of the language of men. C. Farewell, Sir, I beg ofyou to be pundlual: o- therwife we muft come and find you out. et arceflTita, et exultantia fub idem nomcn cadunt. denique v.u-/.o^>7\ov vocatur , quicquid eft ultra virtutem; quoties in- genium judicio caret, et fpe- G 3 cle boni falletur ; omnium in eloquentia vitiorum pefllmum: nam caetera cum vitentur,hoc petitur. Qiiintil. lib, viii. c. 3. 102 DIALOGUES THE THIRD DIALOGUE^ f C. T Begin to fear, Sir, that you would not cotjie ; JL and was very near going to fee for you at Mr. A. I was detained by a perplexing affair I had upon my hands: but 1 have got rid of it to n.y fatisfac^ion. B. I am very pjad of it: for, we wanted you ( x- tremeiy to linifh the fubjed we were talking ot in the morning. C. Since I parted with you, Sir, I heard a fermon at ; and I thought of you. the preacher fpoke in a very edifying manner: but I queflion whether the common people underdood him, or not. A. It happens but too often (as I heard an inge- nious lady obferve, ) that our preachers fpcak Latin, in Englifh. the moft: elTential quality of a good preach- er is to be inftrudtive: but he muft have great abilities and experience to make him fo. on the one hand he muft be perfedly acquainted with the force of fcrip- ture-expreffions: on the other, he muft underftand the capacity of thofe to whom he preaches ; and adapt himfelf to it. now this requires a folid knowledge, and great difcernment. preachers fpeak every day to people of the fcripture, the church, the Mofaiclaw, thegofpel; of facrifices; ofMofesand Aaron, and Melchifedec; of the prophets, andapoftles: but there is not fufHcient care taken to inftruc^ the people in the true meaning of thefe things, and in the charac- ters of thofe holy pcrfons. one might follow fome preachers, twenty years, without getting fufficient knowledge of religion. CONCERNING E L O Q,UE N C E. 103 B. Do you think that people are really ignorant of thofethings you mentioned? Gf For my part, I believe they are: and that few or none underftand them enough to receive any bene- fit from fermons. ]^. That may be true of theloweftrank of people. ' C. Well; ought not they to be in(lrud:ed as well as others? donottheymakeup the bulk of mankind? A. fThe truth is, perfons of rank andfafliion have but littl^'fnore knowledge of religion than the com- mon people, there are always three fourth-parts of an ordinary audience, who do not know thofe lirft prin- ciples of religion, in which the preacher fuppofes every one to be fully inftruded. B. Would you then have him explain thecatechifm in his fermons to a polite congregation? A. I grant there is a due regard to be had to an audience; and difcretion to be ufed in adapting adif- courfe to their capacity, but ftill without giving the lead offence, a preacher might remind the mofl: dif- cerning hearers of thofe palTages of thefacred hiftory, which explain the origin and inditution of holy things, this way of having recourfe to thefirft foundations of religion, would be fa far from feeming low, that it would give moft difcourfes that force and beauty which they generally want, this is particularly true with re- gard to the myfteries of religion: for the hearers can never be inftrufted, nor perfwaded, if you do not trace things back to their fource. for example, how can you make them underftand what the chnrch fays, af- ter * St. Paul, that Jefus Chriftis our PaflTover, if you do not explain to them the Jewifti Paffover; which * I. Cor. V. 7. G 4 I04 DIALOGUES was appointed to be a perpetual memorial of their de- liverance from Kgypt, and to typity a more important redemption that was referved for the Mcffiah. it is for this reafon, I faid that almolt every thing in reli- gion is hiftorical. j^nd if preachers -would have a full knowledge of this truth, they muft be very conver- fant in the fcripture B. You muft excufe my interrupting you on this fubjed; Sir, you told us in the morning that the fcripturcs are eloquent: and I was glad to hear you fay To. let me intrcat you to fiiew us how we may dif- cern the beauties of fcripture ; and in what its elo- quence confifts. the Latin bible feems to me mod vul- gar and inaccurate. I fee no delicacy in it. what is it then that you fo much admire? A. The Latin is only a literal verfion In which out of refpefl: to the original, there are many Greek and Hebrew phrafcs retained, do you defpife Homer be- caufe he has been forrily tranflated into French? B. But the Greek itfelf (which is the originallan- guage of the New Te(lament)appears to me very coarfe and unpolitc, A. The apoftles were not acquainted with the ge- nuine Greek, but ufed that corrupted kind which pre- vailed among th*? Hellenillical Jews, for this reafon St. Paul fays * * 1 am rude in fpcech,' but not in know- ledge, it is very obvious that the apoflle here only meant he was not a mailer of the Greek tonoue; tho' he folidly explained tlie doLlrine of the holy fcripture. C. Had not the apoiUes the gift of fpeaking un- known tongues? A. Undoubtedly; and they even conveyed that * II. Cor. xi. 16. CONCERNING ELOQ^U EN C E. loj gift to great numbers of their illiterate converts, but as for the languages that the apoftles had learnt in a natural way, we have reafon to believe that the Spirit of God permitted them to fpeak as they did before. St. Paul who was a citizen of Tarfus, in Cilicia, natural- ly fpake the corrupted Greek ufed among the Jews there: and we find that this is the language he wrote in. St. Luke feems to have underftood Greek a little better. C. But I always thought that In the paffage you mentioned, St. Paul gave up all pretences to ora- tory: and regarded nothing but the fimplicity of the evangelical docflrine . nay I have heard feveral per- fons of worth andgood judgment affirm that the holy fcripture is not eloquent. St. Jerom was punifhed for being difgulted at the fimplicity of fcripture;and liking Tully better. St. Auftin (in his confefilons) feems to have fallen into the fame fault, did not God intend to try our faith by the obfcurity, and even by the low- nefs of the fcripture- ftile, as well as by the poverty of our Redeemer? A. You feem, Sir, to carry this point too far. whether do you chufe to believe St. Jerom when he was puniflied for having followed his youthful ftudies too clofely in his retreat; or when he had made the greatefl: progrefs both in facred and profane learning; and, in an epiftle to Paulinus, invited him to ftudy the fcripture; affuring him that he would find more charms in the prophets than he had difcovered in the heathen poets? or, was St. Auftin's judgment better in his youth, when the feeming meannefs of the fa- cred ftile difgufted him; than when he compofed his books Of the Chriftian dodtrine? there he often fays 10(5 D I A L O G IT E S that St. Paul was powerfully perfwafive; and that the torrent of his eloquence muft be perceived by the moft unattentive reader, he adds that in the apoftle, wif- dom did not feek after the beanty of language; but that the beauties of language offered themfclves, and atten- ded his wifdom. he quotes many lofty pajTages of his epiftles; wherein he fhews all the art and addrefs of the heathen orators far outdone. St. Auftin excepts on- ly two things in this comparifon: he fays, that ihefe orators ftudyed the ornaments of eloquence; but that the beauties of oratory naturally followed St. Paul, and others of the facred writers, and then he owns that he did not fiifliciently underOand the delicacies of the Greek tongue, to be a competent judge, whe- ther there be the fame numbers and cadence of periods in the facred text, that We meet with in profane au- thors. I forgot to tell you that he quotes that paf- fage of the prophet Amos which begins thus * * wo * to them that are at eafe in Zion,and truft in themoun- * tain of Samaria. :' and afTures us that in this place the prophet has furpafTed everything that is fublime in the heathen orators. C. Hut how do you underftand thefe words ofSt. Paul; f ^ myfpeech and my preaching was not with ' the enticing (perfwafive) words of man's wifdom--?* does he not tell the Corinthians that he came not to preach Chrift to them, with the fublimity of difcourfe andofwifdom: that he * knew nothing among them ' but Jefus, and him crucifyed: ' that his preaching was founded not upon the perfuafive language of hu- man wifdom, and learning, but upon the fenfible ef- fe)\a T«v«. •croja Si /bccyd.\av a-vyfpxipiav x, troiti' Tuv /xi/u-ria-tc n ^ ^iiXua-ig. >^ tu- Ttf yi., (fiKTXTi, oirfi^ l^ufjtiQx TV (jy.OTri. Longinus. §. Kiii. C0NC6RNING ELOQ^UENCE. ii;" Homer, Plato, Xenophon, and the other earliefl: wri- ters, after that, you will be no morefurprifed at the plainnefs of the fcripture-ftile: for in them you will find almoH. the fame kind of cuftoms, the fame artlefs narrations, the fame images of great things, and the fame movements, the difference betwixt them upon comparifon is much to the honour of the fcripture. it furpafTes themvaftlyin native fimplicity, liveJinefs, and grandeur. Homer himfelfnever reached the fub- limityof Mof'ps's fongs; efpecially the * laft, which all the Ifraelitifh children were to learn by-heart, never did any ode, either Greek, or Latin, come up to the loftinefsof the Pfalms: particularly that which begins thus; t ' Themighty God even the Lord,hath fpoken,* furpafles the utmoll ftretch of human invention, nei- * Give ear, ye heavens, oncl. I will fpeak : and hear earth, the -words of my inoitth. my doc- trine fiall drop as the rain ; my fpeech pall dijiil as the dew ; as the [mall rain upon the tender herb; mdas the powers upon the grafs. becaufe I will ptihlip the name of the Lord: afcrihe ye greatnejs un- to our God. he is the rock : his -work is perfeB: for, all his ways arejitdgment: a God of truth, and an eagle Jlirreth up her neji, f.ut' tcrctb over her young, fpreadeth abroad her wings ; taheth them ; beareth them on her wings: fo the Lord alone did lead him; and there was no f range god with him. he made him ride on the high places of the earth, that he might eat the increafe of the fields; he made him fuck hony out of the rock ; and oil out of the fiinty rock. f The mighty God, even the Lord, hath fpoken ; and called the "without iniquity : jujl and right is he. — for the Lord's portion earth from the rifing of the fun is his people : Jacob is the lot of unto the going down thereof, cut his inheritance, he found him in of Zion, the perfctfion of beauty, a defirt land ; and in the ivafle God hath pined, our God pall howling wildernefs : he led him come, aud pall not keep filence : about; he inftruBed him ; and kept a fire pall devour before hiyn : him as the apple of his eye. as\and it pall be very tempejluous * Dent, xxxii. v. i. 2. 3. 4. 9. 10. n, 12. 13, f Pral. L. I. 2. 3- 4- 9- ^. H 2 ii5 DIALOGUES ther Homer nor any other poet ever equalled J Ifaiah defcribing the majeftyof God, in whofe fight the * na- * tions cf die earth are as the fmall duft ; yea lefs than * nothing, and vanity ;' feeing it is * He that ftretcheth ' out the heavens like a curtain, and fpreadeth them * out as a tent to dwell in.' fometimes this prophet round ahost him. he jhall call to '. the heavens from above ; and to the earthy that he may jud^c hh ! feople. gather my faints together ur.to me ; thofc that have made a covenant -ivUo vie by facrifice. and the heavens pal! declare his righ- teoufnefs ; for Gcd is judge hini- \ Chap. si. 9. OZion, that hringej} good tidings, get thee up into the high mountain: Jeru- falem, that hringeft good tidings, lift up thy voice with fircngth : Uft it up ; he not afraid : fay un- to the cities o/Judah , behold your God. behold the Lcrd God will come -with a ft r org hand; and his arm pall rule for him : behold his reward is -with him; and his work before him. he pall feed his fiock like apepherd: he pall gather the lambs with his arm , and carry them in his bofom ; and pall geiA- ly lead thofe that are with young, who hath jyieafured the waters in the hollow of his harid ? and met- ed out the heaven with a fpan , and comprehended the dujl cf the earth in a neafure ; and weigh- ed the mount aiviS infcales; and the hills in a balatue ? who hath di- \ ver. JO. II. 12. 13- 26. 28. rc^ed the Spirit of the Lord ; or being his counfeller hath taught him ? — behold the nations are as a drop of a bucket ; and are counted as the fmall duft of the bahnce : behold he tcketh up the ijles as a very little thing, and Lebanon is notfuff.cient to burn; nor the beafts thereof fufficient for a burnt- facrifice. all nations be- fore him are as ncthirg ; and they are counted to him lef than no- thing and vanity, to whom will you liken God F or what likenefs will you compare unto him? have ye not known? have ye not heard? hath it not been told you from the beginning? have ye not under flood from the foundations of the earth? it is he that fttteth up- on the circle of the earth; and the inhabitants thereof are as graf- hoppers : that ftretcheth out the heavens like a curtain ; and fpread- eth them out as a tent to dwell in. — to whom then will you liken me , or pall I be e^ual?' faith the hob One. lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath created thefe things ; that bringeth out their hoft by nuinber : he caUeth them all by nameSy by the great- IJ. 16. 17. 18. 21. 22. 2;. ' CONCERNING EL O Q^U EN C E. 117 has all thefweetnefs of an eclogue, in the f fmiiingi- mages he gives us of peace: and fometimes he foars fo high as to leave every thing below him. what is there in antiquity that can be compared to the * La- nefi of his might ; for that he is ] ftron^ in power, not cne failcth. \ — i}aji thou not knovjn? haft thou \ r.:t beard , that the everlajiing I God, the Lord, the Creator of the \ ends of the earth fainteth not ; neither is -weary? there is no fear ch- ing of his underftanding! f See ch. xi. and xxxv. * Chap. i. I. How doth the city fit foUtary, that was full of people ! how is (be lecome as a ■widow I jbe that was great among the nations, and prince fs among the provinces^ how is Jhe become tributary ! fie weepeth fore in the '.:ight ; and her tears are on her cheeks, among all her lovers pe hath none to comfort her : all her friends have dealt treacheroufly •with her ; they are become her e- nemies. for thefe things I weep : mine eye, ynine eye, run - neth down with water ; becaufe the comforter that fooiild relieve iny foul is far from me: my chil- j dren are de folate ; becaufe the e- nemy prevailed. —— behold, ; Lord ; for I ain in diflrefs ; my bowels are troubled : mine heart ' is turned within me ; for I have ! grievoufty rebelled : abroad the ; fword bereaveth ; at home there is as death, — how hath the Lord covered the daughter of Zion with a cUiud in his anger -jOnd caft down from heaven unto the earth the beauty of Ifrael ; and remembred not his foot-Jhol in the day of his anger! — the Lord hath purpo- fcd to deflroy the luall of the daughter of Zion: he hath fir etch- ed out a Une ; he hath not with- drawn his hand from dejiroying : therefore he made the rampart, and the wall to lament; they languijhed together. — mine eyes do fail with tears, my bowels are troubled : my liver is poured upon the earth, for the dejtrtiBion of the daughter of my people : be- caufe the children and the fucklings fwoon in the fireets of the city, they fay to their mothers, where is corn and wine? when they fwooncd as the wounded in the fireets of the city ; when their foul was poured out into their mo- therms hofom. — arife; cry out in the night ; in the beginning of the watches pour out thine heart like water before the face of the Lord: lift up thy hands towards him, for the life of thy young children, that faint for hunger in the top ofevC' ry Jireet. behold, Lcrd, and confider to whom thou haji done this. Oiall the women eat their * V. 2. i5. 20. ch. ii. iii. 39. 8. II. 12. 19. 20. 21. ch. H3 IIS DIALOGUES mentations of Jeremiah when he tenderly deplores the miferies of his country? or to the prophecy of f Na- fru'it^ children of a fpan long ? jlidl thcprieft and the prophet be /lain in the fanBuary of the Lord? the young and the old lie on the ground in thejireets : my virgins and my young men are fallen by the fword: thou haji fain them in the day of thy anger, thou haft hilled and not pityed. -wherefore doth a living 7nan complain ; a man for the punijhment of his ftns ? f Chap. i. 3. The Lord is flow to anger, and great in power ; and will }20t at all acquit the wick- ed, the Lord hath his ivay in the luhirl-Tvind, and in the florin; and the clouds are the duft of his feet. the mountains quake at him ; and the hills melt ; and the earth is burnt at his prefence; yea the ivorld^and all that dwell there- in, ivho canfland before his in- dignation ? and who can abide in thcfiercencfs of his anger? his fu- ry is poured out like fire ; and the rocks are thrown down by him. he that dajl:eth in pieces is come up before thy face: keep the mu- nition : ivatch the -way : make thy loynsftrotig: fortify thy power mightily. the Jliield of his mighty men is made red: the va- liant men are in fcarlet : the cha- riots jhall be ivithfiaming torches, in the day of his preparation ; and the fir-trees jhall he terribly pa- ken, the chariots (hall rage in the t V. y. 6, ch.i'i, I. 3. 4. 8 flreets; they Jhall juftk one againft another in the broad ways : they jhall feen: like torches : ti)cy jhall run like the lightnings. — but Ni- neveh is of old like a pool of -wa- ter: yet they jl)all fee away, ft and, ftr.nd , p^all they cry ; hut tione pall look hack, take ye the fpoil offdver ; take the fpoil of gold : for there is no end of the jiore , and glory out of the pleafant fur- niture. fi:e is empty, and void, and -wafte; and the heart mclteth; and the knees fmite together; and much pain is in all loyns ; and the faces of them all gather blacknefs. ^the horfeman lifteth up both the bright fword, and the glittering fpear; and there is a multitude of jlain, and a great number of car- cafes ; and there is no end of their corpfes : they ftumble upon their corpfcs. — behold thy people in the midft of thee are wofnen: the gates of thy land pall be fet wide open unto thine enemies : the fire pall devour thy bars. thy crowned are as the locufts; and thy captains as the great grapoppers which camp in the hedges in the cold day, but when the Jun arifeth they fee away ; and their place is not known where they are. thy pcpherds (lumber, king of aC- fyria : thy nobles fimll dwell in the duft : thy people is fcattered upon the mountains : and no man gather eth them. — — — , id Irhi^^hig the flncJd r;f his proper vui.'ilry, even -prayer and the prcpltuiimi of imenfe, fct InKf-lf i gahif the ivrc.th, and fo hrcvght the cnlaviity to an end ; declaring that he -was thy fervant. fo he overcame the defroyer, not iv'ith (Ireugth of body, nor force of arms, but ivith a ivordfubdu- ed he him that puniped, alledgiiig the oaths and covenants tnade ~ivith the fithers. — for in the long garment, ivas //'c whole world: and ill the four rows of the ft ones ^ ■was the glory of the fathers gra- ven: and thy i)uijefty upon the di- adem ofhii head. CONCERNIKG ELO Q^UEN CE, 121 delivers it calmly, he fays juft what he pleafes ; and fpeaks, with the utmoft eafinefs, of the heavenly king- dom and glory, as of his * father's houfe. all thofe ex- alted things that aftonifli us, were natural and fami- liar to him: he is born there; and only tells us what he f faw; as he him felf declares, on the contrary the apoftles :{: funk under the Vvxight of the truths that were revealed to them: they want words, and are not able to exprefs their ideas, hence flow thofe digrefli- ons and obfcure paiTages in St. Paul's writings, and thofe tranfpofitions of his thoughts, which fliew his mind was tranfpr^rted with the abundance and great- nefs of the truths that offered themfelves to his atten- tion all this irregularity offtile fhews that the fpirit of God forcibly gu'.ded the minds of the apoftles. but notwithftanding thefe little diforders of their ftile, e- very thing in it is noble, lively, and moving, as for St. John's Revelation, we find in it the fame gran- deur and enthufiafm that there is in the prophets, the expreflions are ofttimes the fame: and fometimes this refemblance offtile gives a mutual light to them both. you fee therefore that the eloquence of fcripture is not confined to the books of the old teftament; but is like- wife to be found in the new. C. Suppofing the fcripture to be eloquent, what will you conclude from it? A. That thofe who preach it,may, without fcruple, imitate, or rather, borrow, its eloquence. C. We find that preachers do chufe thofe paffages they think moft beautiful. A. But it mangles the fcripture thus to fhew it to Chriftians only in feparate paiTages. and however * Job. xiv. 2. t Ch. viii. 38, | 2 Cor. xii, 2, /^, ^. 122 DIALOGUES great the beauty of fuch paflTages may be, it can never be fully perceived unlcfs one knows the conne ets, are things highly unbecoming: they very much kffen the majefiy of our worjhip ; and give our c- nemies advantage to call it dead, and formal; when they fee plain- ly that he who officiates^ is dead and formal in it. a deep fenfe of the things prayed for, a true re- colledion and attention cf fpirit^ and a holy earneflnefs of foul, will give a compofure to the looks, and a weight to the pronunciation^ that will he tempered between af- feBation on the one hand, and le- vity on the ether. Difcourfe of the paftoral care, cb, v iii. CONCERNING ELOQ_UENC E. 13;" now-a-days gets little credit unlefs he comes out of the pulpit fweating and breathlefs ; and unable to do any thing the reft of the day. the bifhop's upper veft- ment (which was not then opened at the Ihoulders as it is now, but hung equally down on all fides,) pro- bably hindered him from moving his arms, as fome preachers do. fothat as their fermons were fhort, Co their adlion muft have been grave and moderate, now. Sir, is not all this agreeable to" your principles? is not this the idea you gave us of good preaching? A. Itis not mine: it is the current notion of all an- tiquity, the farther I inquire into this matter, the more I am convinced that the antient form of fermons was the moft perfe(5l. the primitive paftors were great men: they were not only very holy, but they had a compleat clear knowledge of religion, and of the befl: way to perfwade men of its truth: and they took care to regulate all the circumftances of it. there is a great deal of wifdom, hidden under this air of fimplicity: and we ought not to believe that a better method could have been afterwards found out. you have fet this whole matter in the beft light, and have left me no- thing to add: indeed you have explained my thoughts better than I fhould have done myfelf. B. You magnify the eloquence, and the fermons of the fathers mightily. A. I do not think that I commend them too much. B. I am furprifed to fee, that after you have been fo fevere againft thofe orators who mix turns of wit with their difcourfes, you fhould be fo indulgent to the fathers, whofe writings are full of jingling anti- thefes, and quibbles, intirely contrary to all your rules, I wifh you would be confiftent with yourfelf. I 4 136 DIALOGUES pray, Sir, unfold all this to us. particularly, what do you think ofTcrtullian? A. There are many excellent things in him. the loftinefs ofhisfentiments is ofttimes admirable, be- fides he (hould be read for the fake of fome principles concerning tradition; fome hiftorical fads; and the difcipline of his time, but as for his ftile, I do not pretend to juftify it. he has many falfe and obfcure notions; many harfli and perplexed metaphors: and the generality of readers are mod fond of his faults, he has * fpoiledmany preachers. for, the delire of fay- * One of the great rjl andmojl remarkable proof} of the ftroKg influence that fome imaginations have over others, is the power that fome ot hen have to perfwade, ivithout any proof, for exampky the turn of -luords that ive find in TertulUaM,Sencca,Montaigne, and fome other authors, has fo nm- ny charms, andfo much lujhe,that they dazle moft readers — their ^vords , however info nifi cant , have more force than the reafons of other people — Iprotcji I have a great value for feme of Ter- tullian'5 -works ; and chiefly for his apology againfi the Gen- tiles ; his book of prefcriptions againjl heretics; and for fome paffages of Seneca ; tho^ I have very little efteemfor Montaigne. Tertullian -was iiideed a 7nan of great learning : but he had ynore 7nemory, than judgment — the regard he fl)ewed to the viftons of Montanus, and his prophttcf'cs, is an iinqueflionahlc proof of his ■weak judgment, the diforder of his imagination fenfibly appears in the heat, the tranfports, and en- thufiajiic flights befalls into, upon trifling fubjcds — what could he infer from his pompous defcripti- ons of the changes that happen in the world? or how could they juf- tify his laying afide his ufual drefst to wear the philofcphical cloak.^ the moon has d':fferent phnks: the year has feveral fcafons: the fields change their appearance in fum- mer and winter: whole provinces are drowned by inundations, or fwallowcd up by earthijuakes — in fine, all nature is fubjeB to changes : therefore he had reafon to wear the cloak rather than the common robe! — nothing can excufe the ftlh arguments and wild fan- cies of this author, who, in feve- ral others of his works, as well as in that de Pallio, fays every thiv.g that comes into his head, if it be a far-fetched conceit, or a bold exprejfion ; by which be hoped to CONCERNING EL O Q^UE N C E. 137 iDg foraething that is (Ingular leads them to ftudy his works : and his uncommon pompous flile dazles them, we muft therefore beware of imitating his thoughts or exprelTions; and only pick out his noble fentiments, and the knowledge of antiquity. B. What fay you of St, Cyprian? is not hisftile too fwelling? A. I think it is: and it could fcarce be otherwife in his age and country, but tho' his language has a tang of the African roughnefs, and the bombaft that pre- vailed in his days; yet there is great force and elo- quence in it. every where we fee a great foul who ex- prelTeth his fentiments in a very noble moving man- ner, in fome places of his works we find f affefted ornaments: efpecially in his epiftle to Donatus; which St. Auftin quotes however as a letter full of eloquence, he fays that God permitted thofe ftrokes of vain ora- tory to fall from St. Cyprian's pen, to fhew poflerity how much the fpiritof Chrillian fimplicity had, in his following works,retrenched the fuperfluous ornaments Jhevf the vigour, (we muji rather call it, the diforder) of his imagi- nation. Malebranche's recherche de la verite. Liv. ii. />. 3. c. 3. f Locus eniiii cum die con- venit; etmulcendisfenfibus,ac fovendis, ad lenes auras blan- dientis autumni hortorum facies amoena confentit. hie jucundum fermonibus diem ducere, et ftudentibus fabulis in divina praecepta confcien- tiam peftoris erudire. ac ne colloquium . noftrum arbiter profanus impediat,aut clamor intemperans familiae ftrepen- tis obtundat, petamus banc federa. dant feceflum viciaa fecreta, ubi dura erratic! pal- mi turn lapfus nexibus pendu- lis per arundines bajulas re- punt, viteam porticum fron- dea tefta fecerunt : bene hie ftudia in aures damus; et dum in arbores, ct in vites quas vi- demus, obleftante proipeftu, oculos amoenamus, animum fimul et auditus inilruit, et pafcit obtutus. Cypr. ad Donat. epiji. II. 138 DIALOGUES of his ftile; and reduced it within the bounds of a grave and modert; eloquence, this (fays St. Auftin) is the diftinguifhing charader of all the letters that St. Cy- prian wrote afterwards: which we may fafely admire and imitate, as being written according to the fevereft rules of religion; tho' we cannot hope to come up to them without a great application, in fine, tho' his let- ter to Donatus (even in St. Auftin's opinion) be too elaborately adorned; it deferves however to be call- ed eloquent, for, notwithftanding its many rhetori- cal embellifhments, we cannot but perceive that a great part of the epiftle is very ferious, and lively; and moft proper to give Donatus a noble idea of Chriftia- nity. in thofe paflages where he is very earneft, he neglefls all turns of wit, and falls into a fublime and vehement drain. B. But what do you think of St. Auftin? is he not the moft t ji"g^i"g quibbler that ever wrote? will you defend him? ^ Mifi nuncios meos om- nes et fenfus interiores,ut quae- rerem te, et non invcni, quia male quaerebam. video enim, lux mea, Deus qui illuminaf- ti me, quia male te per illos quaerebam quia tu es intus,et tamen ipfi, ubi intraveris, ne- fciverunt — et tamen cum De- um meum quacro, quaero ni- bilominus quandam lucem , quam non capit oculus;quan- dam vocem fuper omnem vo- ccm, quam non capit auris ; quendam odorem luper om- nem odorem, qucm non capit naris ; quendam dulcorem fu- per omncm dulcorem , qucm non capit guftus ; quendam amplexum fuper omnem am- plexum, quern non capit tac- tus. ifta lux quidem fulget ubi locus non capit : ilia vox fonat, ubi fpiritus non rapit : odor ifte redolet,ubi flatus non fpargit : fapcr ifte fapit ubi non efl edacitas; amplexus if- te tangitur, ubi non divclli- tur. Aug. Solil. §.31. Odies praeclaraet pulchra, nefciens vefperum , non ha- bens occafum — ubi non erit hoftis impugnans, neque ulla illecebra, fed fumma et certa CONCERNING EL O Q,U E N C E. 139 A. No: I cannot vindicate him in that, it was the reigning fault of his time; to which his quick lively fancy naturally inclined him. this fliews that he was not a perfcd: orator, but notwithftanding this defed, he had a great talent for perfwafion. he reafoned ge- nerally with great force: and he is full of noble noti- ons, he knew the heart of man intirely well, and was fo polite, that he carefully obferved the ftriftefl: decen- cy in all his difcourfes. in fhort, he exprefied him- felfalmoll always in a pathetic^gentle/mfmuating man- ner, now ought not the fault we obferve in fo great a man to be forgiven? C. I mufl; own there is one thing in him that I ne- ver obferved in any other writer: I mean, that he has a moving way, even when he quibbles, none of his woiks are more full of jingling turns, than his con- feffions, and foliloquys: and yet we muft own they are * tender, and apt to afFei -Grivia., ax- xa Hf Sza^/'^&K 0/A.oKoyet l- XPY2. TvTo 5^\ i(pyiy, t«- ro tTiY T^c «roA.A«f a- tjrcJxeo-e; ^ j>ci^vixorif>MQ ^iyri(; oiy.fiCw^ t^tTctaaf *^ AtTO^OKIKW ^ rcc ^i tjipL- YQTinCi, ^ TO TlK(XTQyog rOMTYlV TOV UoUUhOV TYIV fjLctflvfiicf.y—' OLKK e^lrw ^ Til hi^ei 7r%^ivetv, ^ rviv 7U¥^myiv 'r^ ovo/jlcHtuy oc- TTKr.v rtvoL etvcif k oKpiKrj* fjLQYOY juri rri yYmet tic ^ Tw -3^ loy/ULCiTcov dycpiQet- (X, /d/w'rJjf eVw /An'^ 't'voc tyiv oiKeiuv a(>yio(,v tTriKaKu- ,44 DIALOGUES of men. he entered into their hearts ; and rendered things familiarly fcnfible to them, he had fublime and folid notions ; and is fometimes very afFedling. upon the whole,we muftown he is a great orator. St. Gregory Nazianzen is more f concife, and more poetical; but not quite fo perfwafive. and yet he has feveral moving paflages ; particularly, in his funeral oration upon his brother St. Bafil ; and in his laft difcourfe at taking leave of Conftantinople. St. Bafil is grave, fententi- ous, and rigid, even in his ftile. he had meditated pro- foundly on ail the truths of the gofpel: he knew exa(5t- ly iall the diforders and weaknefFes of human nature ; •IVy rev fAOLKCtpiOV (.KBiVOV aipafpeid^o) to piiyiTov t^ ayaSoJK, ^ to i^' lyytcd- {JLiaV KKpCCKOLfOy. CHRYS. de Sacerdotio. L. iv. §6. •j- Ov fih «6 (outfi av vza-okcc^ot rk'tauc tuv Travray oLroTrcdv, ^ y-^X' ahKuY ro7f oiyteioiQ ttcl^i- Giv\ ;i^uk9>7k t« ^oS/m tyiy rd^iv 'fcrt^vju/a rric Ji^et- C^OYO^. ov^ vrut; iycd, n 7« 3-a«//£ye0yc,}j tjTc oly- ^^cdiffivnc TOLzireivcoaiQC ct' KOif OTTQdOVV 'CyKVidlOileiY 0£flt) , TW fAOVU (pai'3- Ta'rW ^ KOLfJL'OTf'OTd.TCi) Hf VWlfiiyovri 'OrOLd'/lQ VKl- hct^oTYiTi rnxBoL^^yivcLf cet zsr^QTOYy eiTOL yiaSoLy(A>y?,cro(.t fxirccavvidicdi;. Greg. N A z. Oral. A- pol. CONCERNING ELOQUENCE, 14 j atad he had a great fagacity in the conduct of fouls. there is nothing more eloquent than his epiftle to a virgin that had fallen: in my opinion it is a mafter- piece. but now if a preacher fliould not have formed his tafte in thefe matters before he ftudies the fathers, he will be in danger of copying the mod unaccurate parts of their works; and may perhaps imitate their chief defers in the fermons he compofes. C. But how long continued this falfe eloquence which fucceeded the true kind? , A. Till now. C. What do you mean? till now! A. Yes, till now: for we have not yet corrected our tafteof eloquence, fo much as we imagine, you will foon perceive the reafon of it. the barbarous nations that over-ran the Roman empire, did fpread ignorance and a bad tafte every where, now we defcended from them, and tho' learning began to revive in the fifteenth century;it recovered then but flowly. it was with great difficulty that we were brought by degrees to have any relifhof a right manner: and even now, how many are there who have no notion of it? however we ought to (hew a due refped not only to the Fathers, but to other pious authors, who wrote during this long in- terval of ignorance, from them we learn the traditi- ons of their time, and feveral other ufeful inftrudlions, I am quite alhamed of giving my judgment fo freely on this point: but, gentlemen, ye defired me. and I fliall be very ready to own my miftakes if any-one will undeceive me. but it is time to put an end to this converfation. C. We cannot part with you till you give us your opinion about the manner of chufing a text, K 146 DIALOGUES A. You know very well that the ufe of texts arofe from the anticnt cuftom that preachers obferved, in not delivering their own reflexions to the people; but only explaining the words of the facred text, howe- ver by degrees they came to leave-ofF this way of ex- pounding the whole words of the gofpel that was ap- pointed for the day; and difcourfed only upon one part of it, which they called the text of the fermon. now if a preacher does not make an exad explication of the whole gofpel, or epiftle, he ought at leaft to chufe thofe words that are mod important; andbeft fuited to the wants and capacities of the people, he ought to explain them well: and to give a right notion of what is meant by a fingle word, it is oft-times neceiTary to expound many others in the context, but there (hould be nothing refined or far-fetched in fuch inftru(5tions. it mult look very ftrange and aukward in a preacher tofet up for wit and delicacy of invention, when he ought to fpeak with the utmoft ferioufnefs and gravi- ty; out of regard to the authority of the Holy Spirit whofe words he borrows. G. I muft confefs I always difliked a forced text. have you not obferved that a preacher draws from a text, whatever fermons he pleafes? he infenfibly warps and bends his fubjedt to make the text fit the fermon that he has occafion to preach, this is frequently done in the time of Lent. I cannot approve of it. B. Before we conclude, I muft beg of you tofatis- fy me as to one point that dill puzzles me, and after that we will let you go. A. Come then; let us hear what it is. I have a great mind to fatisfy you if I can. for I heartily wifli CONCERNING EL OQ^UENCE. 147 you would employ your parts in making plain and per-' fwa/ive fermons. B. You would have a preacher explain the holy {criptures with conneiftion, according to the obvious fenfe of them. A. Yes: that would be an excellent method. B. "Whence then did it proceed that the fathers in- terpreted the fcripture quite otherwife ? they ufualiy give a fpiritual, and allegorical meaning to thefacred text, read St. Auftin, St. Ambrofe, St. Jerom, Ori- gen and others of the fathers: they find myfteiies eve- ry where, andfeldora regard die letter of fcripture. A. The Jews that lived in our Saviour's days a- bounded in thefe myfterious allegorical interpretati- ons, it feems that the Therapeutae who lived chiefly at Alexandria, (and whom Philo reckoned to be phi- lofophical Jews , tho' Eufebius fuppofes they were primitive Chriftians , ) were extremely addicted to thefe myftical interpretations, and indeed it was in the city of Alexandria that allegories began to appear with credit among Chriftians. Origen was thefirftof the fathers who forfook the literal fenfe of fcripture. you know what difturbance he occafioned in the church, piety itfelf feemed to recommend thefe alle- gorical interpretations, and beiides there is fomething in them very agreeable, ingenious, and edifying, moll of the fathers to gratify the humour of the people (and probably their own too) made great ufe of them, but they kept faithfully to the literal, and thepropheiical fenfe ( which in Its kind is literal too ) in all points where they had occalion to fhew the foundations of the Ghriftian dodrine. when the people were fully iflilrufted in every thing they could learn from the let- 148 DIALOGUES ter of fcrlpture; the fathers gave them thofe myftical interpretations to edify and comfort them, thefe ex- plications were exactly adapted to the relifli of the eaftern people, among whom they firft arofe: for, they are naturally fond of myfterious and allegorical lan- guage, they were the more delighted with this variety ofinterpretaiions, becaufe ofthe frequent preaching, and almoft conftant reading of fcripture, which was ufed in the church, but among us the people are far lefs inftrufled: we muft do what is moft neceflary ; and begin with the literal fenfe ; without defpifing the pious explications that the fathers gave, we muft take care of providing our daily bread ; before we feek af- ter delicacies, in interpreting fcripture we cannot do better than to imitate the folidity of St. Chryfoflom. mofi: of our modern preachers do not ftudy allegori- cal mecnings, becaufe they have fufficiently explained the literal fenfe; but they forfakcit, becaufe they do not perceive its grandeur ; and reckon it dry and bar- ren in comparifon of their way of preaching, but we have all the truths and duties of religion in the letter of the fcripture, delivered not only with authority, and a fingular beauty, but with an Inexhauftible varie- ty: fothat without having recourfe to myftical inter- pretations, a preacher may always have a great num- ber of new and noble things to fay. it is a deplorable thing to fee how much this facred treafure is negleded even by thofe who have it always in their hands, if the clergy applyed themfelves to the antient way of making homilies, we fliould then have two different forts of preachers, they who have no vivacity, or a poetical genius, would explain the fcriptures clearly, without imitating its lively noble manner: and if they CONCERNING EL OQ^UENCE. 149 cxponnded the word of God jndicioufly, and fuppor- ted their dodrine by an exemplary life, they would be very good preachers, they would have what St. Am- brofe requires, a chafte,fimple, clear ftile,full of weight and gravity ; without affecting elegance, or defpifing the fmoothnefs and graces of language, the other fort having a poetical turn of mind would explain the fcrip- ture in its own ftile and figures; and by that means be- come accomplilhed preachers, one fort would inftruft people with clearnefs, force, and dignity: and the other would add to this powerful inftruftion, the fublimity, the * enthufiafm,and vehemence offcripture: fo that it would (if 1 may fo fay) be intire, and h ving in them, * Infpiratm maybe jtiflly cal- led divine enthufiafm for infpiration is a real feeling of the divine prefence; and enthufiafm afalfe one. Charafterifticks, vol. i.p. s'?. This is what our author advan- ces, -when in behalf of enthufi- afm he quotes its formal enemies, and pews that they are as capable efit as its greateft confejfors and ■martyrs, fo far is he from degra- ding enthufiafm, or difclaiming it in himfelf, that he looks on this paflion ftmply conftdered, as the moji natural ; and its objeft, the jufteft in the world, even virtue itfelfhe takes to be no other than a nolle enthufiafm juftly direBed, and regulated by that high Jlan- dard which he fuppofes in the na- ture of things — nor is thorow honeifty, in his hypothefis, any other than this zeal, or pajfion, moving firongly ufon the fpeci- es, or view of the decorum, and fublime of anions, others may purfue different forms , and fix their eye on different fpecie?, ( as all men do on one or other : ) the real honeft man, however plain or fmpie he appears , has that higheji fpecies, [ the honeftum, pulchrum, to v.a.\ov, -arpi-rovj honefty itfelf, in view ; and in- jlead of outwavii for7ns or fym- metrys, isjlruck with that of in- ward charaBer, the iiarmony ind numbers of the heart , and beauty of the afFeftions, which form the manners, and conduB of a truly fecial life upon the whole therefore, according to our author^ enthufiafm is in itfelf, a very natural, honeft pajfion, and has properly nothing for its objeS but what is good and honcik. Char. vol. iii. Mifcel. 2, ch. I. K 3 ijo DIALOG U E S as much as It can be in men who are not miraculoufly infpired from above. B. Oh, Sir: I had almoft forgot an important ar- ticle, have a moment's patience, I befeech you: a few words will fatisfy me. A. What now? have you anybody elfeto cenfuie? B. Yes; the panegyrifts. do you think that when they praife a faint, they ought fo to give his characfter, as to reduce all his adlions, and all his virtues to one point? A. That fhews the orator's invention and refined fenfe. B. I iinderftand you. It feems you do not like that method. A. I thinkit wrong in mod cafes, he muft puta force upon things, who reduces them all toa fmglepoint. there are many adions of one's life that flow from di- verfe principles, and plainly (hew that he pofTefTed ve- ry different qualities, the way of referring all the fteps of a man's condudl to one caufe, is but a fcholaftic fub- tilty, which fhews that the orator is far from know* ing human nature, the true way to draw a jufl cha- radtcr, is to paint the whole man,andtdfet himbefor« the hearer's eyes, fpeaking and ading. in defcribing the courfe of his life, the preacher fhould chiefly point cut thofe pafl^ages whereirl either his natural temper, or his piety bcfl appeared, but there fhould always be fomethingleft to the hearer's own obfervaticn. the befl way of praifing holyperfons is to recount their laudable aftions. this gives a body and force to a pa- negyric: this is what inftrufts people; and makes an imprefliion upon their minds, but it frequently hap- pens that they return home without knowing any thing of a perfon's life, about whom they have heard CONCERNING ELOQ^UEN C E. IJl art hour's difcourfe: or at leaft they have heard many remarks upon a few feparate fads, related with- out any connexion, on the contrary a preacher ought to paint a perfon to the life; and fhew what he was in every period, in every condition, and in the moft re- markable junctures, of his life, this could not hinder one from forming a charadter of him: nay it might be better collefted from his a<5tions, and his words than from general thoughts, and imaginary defigns. B. You would chufe then to give the hiftory of a holy perfon's life, and not make a panegyric. A. No: you miftake me. I would not make a fimple narration . I ftiould think it enough to give a coherent view of the chief facHiS in a concife, lively, clofe, pa- thetic manner, every thing fhould help to give a juft idea of the holy perfon I praifed ; and at the fame time to give proper inftruftion to the hearers, to this I would add fuch moral reflections, as I fhould think moft futable. now do not you thinjk. that fuch a dif- courfe as this would have a noble and amiable fimplici- ty? do not you believe that the lives of holy people would be better underftood this way, and an audi- ence be more edifyed, than they generally are? do yon not think that according to the rules of eloquence we laid down, fuch a difcourfe would even be more elo- quent than thofe over-ftraincd panegyrics that are commonly made? B. I am of opinion that fuch fermons as you fpeak of would be as inftruflive,as afFeding,and as agreeable as any other. I am now fatisfied, Sir: it is time tore- leafe you. I hope the pains you have taken with me will not be loft: for I have refolved to part with all my modern colle(5tions, and Italian wits; and in a ferious K 4 13:2 DIALOGUES &c. manner to ftudy the whole conne<5tion and prlnciploi of religion; by tracing them back to their fource. C. Farewell, Sir: the bell acknowledgment I can make, is to a (Tu re you that I will have a great regard to what you have faid. A. Gentlemen, good night. Iwillleave youwith hefe words of St. Jerom to Kepotian : * when you teach in the church, do not endeavour to draw ap- plaufe, but rather fighs and groans from the people: let their tears praife you. the difcourfes of a clergy- man fliould be full of the holy fcripture. be not a declaimer, but a true teacher of the royfteries of God. FINIS. A L E T T E'R FROM THE ARCHBISHOP OF C AMBR A Y TO THE FRENCH ACADEMY; CONCERNING RHETORIC, POETRY, HISTORY: AND A COMPARISON BETWEEN THE ANTIENT» AND MODERNS. f~. GLASGOW: nUNTEO AND SOLD BY ROBERT AND ANDRVW FOVUS* M. DCC. L. LETTER T O Mr. FONTENELLE, Secretary to the French Academy. Sir, 1A M afhamed of having deferred To long to anlwer your letter: but my ill ftate of health, and a con- tinual hurry of affairs occafioned this delay, the choice that the * Academy has made of you for their * Of late in many parts ofEn^ rope, fame gentlemen met toge- ther ; fuhmitted to common laws, and formed themfelves into aca- demy s. hut it has been for the moji ■part to a different pttrpofe [ from the royal facte ties : ] and mo ft of them only aimed at the fmoothing of their ftile and the language of their country, ofthefe, the firfl a- rofe in Italy ^- but that -which ex- celled all the other, and kept itfelf longer untainted from the corrup- tions offpeech was the French A- cademy at Paris, this -was com- pofed of the mhlefl authors of that nation; and had for its founder the ^feat Cardinal de Richelieu: -who among ft alibis cares, whereby he eftahlijhed and enlarged that mo narchy fo much, did often refrcftj himfelfby direding, and taking an account of their progrefs. and in- deed in his own life, he found fo great fuccefs of this inftitution,that he faw the French tongue abun- dantly purifyed, and beginning to take place in the weftern world, almoft as much as the Greek did of old, when it was the language of merchants, foldiers, Courtiers, and travellers, but Ijhallfay m more of this academy, that I m^ not deprive my reader of the de- light of perufmg their own hi/Jo- ry written by M . de Pelijfon;whicb is fi mafcuUnely, fo chaftly, and fo unaffetfedly done , that I can hardly forbear envying the French nation this honour ; that while the EngUJh Royal Society has fo much outgone their illujirious academy in thegrcatnefs of its undertaking, itJhouU he fo farjbort of tbem 1^6 ALETTERTO perpetual fecretary, is worthy of fuch a fociety; and promifes great advantage to the commonwealth of learning. I own, Sir, that I am fomewhat perplexed with the requed you make me in the name oi a body to which I am fo much obhged. but feeing they defire it, I will freely give them my opinion, with a great diftruft ofmyfelfjand a fincere deference for thofewho vouchfafe to confult me. §. I. The didionary that the academy is forming well deferves to be finifhed. cuftom indeed which of- ten changes living languages may at length alter what this didionary fhall determine: Nedum fermonum (let hones, et gratia vivax. Multa renafcentur quae jam cccidere; cadentque Quae nunc funt inhonore vocabula, fi volet ufus; Quern penes arbitrium eft, et jus, et norma loquendi. HoR. dc Ar. Poet. v. 69. — however it will be of feveral ufes . it will be ferviceable to foreigners who are fond of the French language, and improve themfelves by reading the many excellent books of feveral kinds that are publiftied in it. befides, the moft polite among the French themfelves may fome- times have occafion to confult the di:any fjgv.s we mayguefs that the -wits of our 7iation are not inferior to cry o- ther; and that they have an excel- lent mixture of the fpirit cf the French, and the Spaniard: and I am confident that -we only ivant a fc-iv more (landing examples, and a littk jnore familiarity with the antic/its to excel ail the T?wderrs. nc-d' the heft means that can he devifed to bring that about, is to fettle a fixt and impartial court of ekquer.ce ; according to -whofe c en litre all hochs, or authors, Jkould either (land, or fall — - the Royal Scciety is fo fir from being like to put a flop to fuch a bufmefs, that I knoiv many of its members irho are as able as any others to aftift in the bringing it into pra&ice. Hiftory of the Royal Soci- ety, ^.42, 43. THK FRENCH ACADEMY. :6; the fame thoughts, but there are two things I muft here take the freedom to fuggert:. the firft is, that feme climates are more happy than others, for Tome parti- cular talents, as well as for certain kinds of fruit, for inftance, Languedoc and Provence produce raifins and figs of a better tafte, than Normandy, or the Ne- therlands, fo the Arcadians had a genius fitter for po- lite arts than the Scythians, the Sicilians have a bet- ter tafte of mufic than the Laplanders, we find like- wife that the ^ Athenians had a more quick and fprightly wit than the Beotians. the fecond thing I obferve, is, that the Greeks had a kind of long traditi- on that v/ewant. eloquence was more cultivated a- mong them, than it can be in our nation, among the Greeks all things depended on the people: and the people were influenced by haranguing, in their form of government, fortune, reputation, and authority, were obtained by perfwading the people, artful ve- hement declaimers fwayed them as they pleafcd: and oratory was the great fpring of affairs both in peace, and war. hence come thofe numerous harangues men- tioned in hiflory, which we reckon incredible; be- caufe they are fo intirely different from our manners. Diodorusthe Sicilian tells us that Nicolaus and Gy- fippus by turns influenced the Syracufians. the one prevailed with them at firft to pardon fome Athenian prifoners: and the next moment, the other perfwaded them to put thofe very prifoners to death. Rhetoric has no fuch influence now among us. '6 ^ Athenis tenue coeium, ex I Attici j craffum Thebis. quo acutiores etiam putantur j Cic. de Fato §. 4. Boeotum in crajjb jurares aire natum, Hor. L 3 i«<^ A L E T T K R T O public aflemblies meet only for fhows, and ceremo- nies, we have fcarce any remains of a powerful elo- quence, either of our old parliaments, or our general ftates, or our alTemblies of * chief perfons. every thing is determined fecretly in cabinet-councils, or in fome particular negotiation, fo that our people have no encouragement to ufe fuch application as the Greeks did, to raife themfclvesby the art ofperfwaft- on . the public ufe of eloquence is now almofl; confin- ed to the pulpit, and the bar. The warmth of our lawyers to gain a cau{e rela- ting to the eflate of a private perfon, cannot equal the ambition that the Greek orators had to polfefs them- felves of thefupreme authority in a commonwealth. a lawyer iofes nothing: nay he gets his fee,tho' he lofe the caufe he undertook, is he young? he applys him- felf to plead elegantly, that he may acquire fome re- putation, without having ever ftudyed either the grounds of the law, or the great models of antiquity, has he eftabliflicd his charafter? he leaves ofFpleading, and enriches himfelf by chamber prat^ice. the moft valuable lawyers are thofe who fet fads in a deal* light; who recur to fome fixed principle of law; and anfv/erall objedions according to it. but where are thole who have the art of forcing the afieut, and mo- ving the hearts of a whole people? Shall 1 prefume to fpeak with the fame freedom, concerning preachers? God knows how much I reve- rence the niinifters of his word, but I cannot offend any particular peiTon among them, by obferving in general, that they are not all equally humble and difin- terefted. young men who have little reputation are * Pe notables. THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 167 too forward in preaching, people fancy they fee that thofe feek their own glory, more than God's: and that they are more earned about making their fortune, than for the falvation of fouls, they talk like fparkling orators, rather than like minifters of Chrift, and ftew- ards of his myfteries. it was not with this vain pomp of words that St. Peter preached the crucifyed Jefusin thofe fermons that converted fo many thoufand people. Would we learn the rules of a ferious effedual elo- quence from St. Auftin ? he follows Cicero in diftin- guifhing three different kinds of fpeaking. he fays we muft fpeak * fubmiffively, in an humble familiar way: f mildly, in an engaging, foft, infinuating manner, to make people love the truth: and J nobly, that is, in a lofty vehement ftrain, when we would captivate men, and refcue them from the dominion of their paf- fions. he adds, that the only reafon for ufmg fuch expreflionsas may pleafe people, is, becaufe there are few men reafonable enough to relifii fuch truths in a difcourfe as are quite dry and naked, as for the fu- blime and vehement kind, he would not have it florid; * nor f f embellifhed with the ornaments of fpeech: * but rather full of the moft pathetic emotions- for * the fpeaker following the impulfe of his thoughts, * does not induftrioufly ftudy the beauties of elocuti- * on ; but naturally ufes fuch as rife from the fubjeft ' itfelf.* the fame father obferves that a man who fights * Sdmijfe. f Temperate, f Granditer. ft — Non tarn verborum ornatibus comtum eft, quam violentum animi affeflibus — fcrtur quippe impetu fuo, et L elocutionis pulchritudinem, fi occurrerit, vi rerum rapit,non cura decoris afTumit. Aug. de Doa. Chr. L. IV, i69 A LET T KR T O refolutely with a fword enriched with gold and jewels, ufes thefe arms , ( without regarding the value of them,) becaufe they are fit for fighting, he adds that God had permitted St. Cyprian to ufe fome afFedted ornaments in his letter to Donatus; that pofterity might fee how much the purity of the Chriftian doc- trine had corre(5led this fupcrfluous vanity, and brought him to a more grave and modeft eloquence. But nothing can be more afleding than the two ftories that Sr. Au^^in relates to fhewus the true way of preaching with fuccefs. in the firft inftance, he was as yet but a prieft the holy Biihop Valerius appointed him to preach to the people of Hippo, in order to re- claim theiii from * riotous feafting on folemn days, he opened the fcriptures, and read to them the mod ve- hement and threatning reproaches, he earneftly be- fought his hearers, * by the ignominies and the for- * rows, by the crofs, by the blood of Chrift, not to * deftroy themfelves; to pity him who fpake to them * with fo much affe(5lion; and to flicw fome regard to * their venerable old bifliop, who, out of tendernefs ' to them, had commanded him to inftrud: them in the * truth. I did not make them weep, (fays he,) by firfl: * weeping over them: but while I preached, their tears * prevented mine. I own that then I could not reftrain * myfelf. after we had wept together, 1 began to en- * tertain great hope of their amendment.' on this oc- cafion he quite varied from the difcourfe he had pre- pared; becaufe he did not now think it fuitable to their penitent difpofition. in fine, hehad the fatisfac- tion of feeing this people tradable, and reformed from that very day. • Emii. xxix. ad Alyp. THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 169 The other occafion wherein he powerfully fwayed the minds of his audience, is thus related by himfelf: * we mult not imagine that a man has fpoken in a lofty * fublime manner, when he receives many acclamati- * ons, and great applaufe. thel'e are fometimcs given ' to the lowefl: turns of wit, and the ornaments of the ^ moderate fort of eloquence, but the fublime ftrain * oft-times overwhelms people's minds with its vehe- * mence: it renders them fpeechlefs: it melts them into * tears, when 1 endeavoured to perfwade the people of ^ Caefarea in Mauritania to abolifh a combat among * the citizens, in wh'ch relations, brothers, fathers, * and fons, being divided into two parties, fought * publickly for feveral days, at a certain time of the ' year; and every man endeavoured to kill the perfon * he attacked: according to the utmofl: of my ability, I * ufed the moft pathetic expreflions to extirpate fuch ' a cruel, inveterate cuftom from the minds and man- * ners of this people, however I thought I had done * nothing, while I only heard their acclamations. ' but their tears gave me fome hope: their applaufes * (hewed that I had inftrufted them ; and that they ' were pleafed with my difcourfe: but their tears de- * clared that their minds were changed, when I faw * them weep, I believed that this horrible cuftom they ' had received from their anceftors, and been fo long * enflaved to, would be abolifhed it is now eight ^ years ago, and upwards, and by the grace of God * they have been retrained from attempting any fuch ' pradice.* if St. Auftin had weakened his difcourfe by the affeded ornaments of the florid kind of rheto- ric, he would never have been able to reform the people of Hippo and Caefarea. 170 ALETTERTO Demoflhenes llkewife followed this rule of true e- loquence. * * O Athenians! ( faid he ) do not fancy * that Philip is like a deity, afTured of fuccefs in all his * attempts, among thofe who feem devoted to his in- L^iT kx-eiva to. 'arctfovTO. 'WiTMrnyivcL} 'arixxyjuD^roi. a- ^dvoijoL, dhhd y.KTet t/C£- XeiVOV, Kf tilliV, 6 UVt^lC ZTOLw vvv ooy.^vTuv ouex- 0}Q 'i^eiv cuuTQ — >tccii.7r%- ^i fJlS/JTOt rOUJTX 'GTO.vlaL vvv w;t t^ovjcc cL7rorf>o(py]v S/a rh vjuiTt^cLv (ifctlv- ^VlTOt, Hj jcSv/JLlOLV Of>0i- ri. ^b', 0) acS^fc A^riYOLfOi, 70 zr^oLy/AX 01 nr^otK}]Kv- ^iV OLdlKyexOLQ OLV^^UTTOQf Off m\ cqoKTiv vfjav titcoai TM ^foLrleiVy fi ayetv mv- X'^^* ^^^ o(.^eiKei,Kf Ko- fa; V'an^yj(poLv\i^, qq cpocai, y^iyety Xf vV o/of ri k^iv 'i- yetv enri T)iTUY, ukk ccfet ri ^^0lQ(X.KKt)y Hf xu- Toixtli-ra^* croT wk, way- IpiC A^mAfOtyTTOTi. a x^yj cr^a^fT€; tTreihdv ri yivYi- rctf; iTretldv vYi AfcLdvdf- Y.n Ttr h'fVVvll ri Xp)l TCC yifyojuiYCi iiyeio^Of; iyu yi, Ol//.af T07( iKd/^ifOlC JUi" yi':\]y avctyy.tiv T)]V vzji^ rooY zirfidyfjiOLTOov Of^wnv eivai* ii (i'dMo^i, etni juoi, 'srifi'io/liccuj'^ 7rvv9dvi(T- ^ai icajd Tm ayofdvy hi- yirOLj 71 K0LlV0V;yiV0l70 y> dv 71 noLiyonoov i^ Maxe- owy oLvri^ AS-fjKO/ifC xara- TToKif^y ^ rd T^ EhhVI' yuv hoiKOiv; re^vuKi 4>/- hlTTTTOC'ii /Wa A/, aKK CKT' ^tvei' Tt V vju7v ^lOLtpi^et; Kf y) dv MTOQ 71 Trd^Yly TOt- X}U( Vjuet; I7i^0y ^IKITT' TTov tyo/wir£- Denioflhenes in Phil. I. THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 171 * tereft, thefe are fome that hate, and dread, and envy * him — but your negligence and floth puts all things ' toaftand — -confider, O Athenians, to what conditi- ' on ye are reduced, this wicked man is gone fo far as * to leave you no choice betwixt vigilance and inadi- * vity. they fay he threatens you; and talks arrogant- * ly. he is not content now with what he has already * conquered: he forms new projefts every day; and * lays fnares for you on all fides, while you continue ^ ftill backward and llothful. when then , O Atheni- ' ans! when is it that ye will do what ye ought t-o do? ^ when will ye attempt fomething? when will necelli- * ty determine you to a6t? what muft we think of what ' is nowa-doing? in my opinion, no neceflity can be * more urgent upon a free people than what arifes from * the fliame of their paft ill conduct, will ye ftill wan- * der about in public places , inquiring after news ? * whatftranger news can there be, than that a man of * Macedon fubdues the Athenians , and governs all * Greece? is Philip dead? fays one: no, fays another, * he is only fick. what avails it, which he is? for if * he were dead, you would foon raife up another Phi- ' lip.* here good-fenfe fpeaks without any other or- nament than its native force, the orator makes the truth plain to all the people: he awakens them: he fpurs them on to adion: he fhews them their impen- ding ruin, everything is fpokenfor the common-good; ftOt a word to (htwhis own wit: there is no glittering thought: all tends to inftrudl, and move the people. Indeed the Romans began very late to follow the example of the Greeks, in improving polite learning. 172 A L ETT E R T O Gralis ingenium, Graiis dedit ore retundo Mufaloqui, praeter laiidem nullius avaris. Romani pueri longis rationlbus aflem Difcuntin partes centum deducere HoR.de Ar. Poet. v. 323 — The Romans were employed about their laws and rights; about war, and husbandry, and commerce: which gave Virgil occafion to fay. Excudent alii fpirantia mollius aera: Credo equidem; vivos ducent de marmore vultus, Orabunt caufas melius: Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento: Haetibierunt artes: Aen. vi. V. 848. Saluft finely defcribes the manners of antient Rome; evenwhile heowns thatfhenegledled literature. ** the * mofl: prudent (fays he) were always the bufieft. no * oneexercifedhis wit more than his body, thewor- * thied perfons chofe rather toadl wifely, than to de- * claim: and to have their brave deeds applauded by ' others; rather than to bury themfelvesin recording * their neighbour's good anions.' We muft acknowledge however, according to Li- vy's teflimony, that a ftrong and popular eloquence was well cultivated at Rome in the days of Manlius. * rrudentiflimus quifque negotiofiis maxime erat. in- genium nemo fine corporc ex- erccbat. optiraus quifque fa- ccrc, quam dicere; fua abali- is bcnefafta laudari, quam ip- fc aliorum narrare malebat. Sal. Bell. Catij. THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 173 this man who had faved the Capitol from the Gauls, tryed to ftir up the people to fedition. f ' how long *■ (faid he) will ye be ignorant of your ftrength; which * nature difcovers to the very beafts ? count at leaft ' how many ye are 1 fhould think ye would fight ' more refolutely for liberty, than thofe men for do- * minion — how long will ye look upon me? ye may ' all of you depend on me to the utmoft, &c. ' this powerful orator perfwaded all the people to pardon him, ft retching out his hands towards the Capitol which he had formerly faved. nor could his death be obtained of the multitude, till he was carryed into a facred wood; whence he could no longer fliew them the Capitol. * 'the tribunes found (fays Livy)that * feeing the people's minds were fo ftrongly prepofTeft * with the merit of Manlius, it would be impoffible to * perfwade them he was really guilty, unlefs they could * carry them out of the fight of the Capitol which re- * minded them of his glorious fervice then his * crime appeared.' Every one knows what troubles eloquence occafi- oned among the Greeks, at Rome Catiline's oratory brought the republic to the brink of ruin, but that e- loquence tended only to perfwade people and to move their paffions. wit was never employed in it. a flo- rid declaimer could have had no influence in public af- fairs. f Qiioufque tandem igno- certatiiros — • quoufque me rabitis vires veflras, quas na- circumfpeftabitls? ego quidem tura ne belluas quidem igno- nulli veftram deero- rare voluit? numerate faltera Tit. Liv. L.\i. c. iff. quot ipfx fitis — tamen acrius * Apparuit tribunis , nifi credercm , vos pro libertate oculos quoque hominum libe- quatn illos pro domiuatione raflent a tanti memoria deco- ,74 A LE T T ER T O Nothing can be more artlefs than Brutus when he f writes tc Cicero with fuch an air of ruperiority,as to re» prcvearid Tilence him. X * you beg our life and fafety of < 0<5lavius :Cfays he) what death could bj fo bad ? by this < requeft you Ihew that tyranny is not deftroyed; and * that we have only changed our tyrant, coniider your ris nunquam fore in praeoc- cupatis bcneficio anirnis, vero crimini locum ibi crimen valuit. Tit. Liv. L. vi. ch. xx. f Particulam iitterarum tu- arum qiias mififti Odavio le- gi at dolore, quantum a- nimo maximum capere pof- fum.eadem ilia pars epiftolae fcriptae ad Oftavium de no- bis, affecit. fic enira illi gra- tias agis de republica , tarn fgppliciter, ac demifle (quid fcribam ? pudet conditionis, ac fortunae ; fed tamen fcri- bendum eft : \ commendas noltram falutcm illi ; quae inorre qua non perniciofior ? ) ut prorfus piae te feras, non fublatam dominationcm , fed dojninum commutatum efle. verba tua recognofce, et aude ncgarc fcrvicntis adverfus re- gem iftas elfe preccs. unum ais efle quod ab eo poftuletur, ct exfpeftetur, ut eos cives, dc quibus viri boni, [X>puluf- que Romanus bene exillimet, falvos velit. quid fi nolit? non erimus .' atqui non elfe, quam ciic per ilium, piaeftat. ego medius iidius non cxiftimo Jam pmncs Deos averfos efle a falute popuHRomaniutOc- , tavius orandus fit pro falute , cujufqi'im civis, non dici.n| I pro liberatoribus orbis terra- rum hoc tu Cicero, po.lc fateris Oftavium, et illi ami- cus es ? aut, fi me carum ba- bes, vis Romae vidcri ; cum ut ibi efle poflem, commen- dandus pucro illi fuerim? cui quid agis gratias fi ut nos fal- vos eile velit, et patiatur, ro- gandum putas? an hoc pro beneficio elt habendum, quod fe, quam Antonium, efle ma- luerit, a quo ifta petenda ef-r fent — ifta vero imbccillitas etdefperatio, cujus culjia non magis in te refulet, quam in omnibus aliis, Caefarem in cupiditatem regni impulit : et Antonio — quod fi Romaraos nos efle meminiflemus: non audacius dominari ciiperent poftremi homines, quam ut nos prohiberemus. tu quideni confularis, et tantorum fccle- nun vindex (quibus opprcflis vereor ne in brcvc tcmpus di- lata fit abs te pernicies, ) qui potcs intueri quae geflTeris — Apud Cicer. Lib. Epill. ud Brut. ep. ivi. THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 17? * own words; and deny if you can, that fuch a petition ^ is fit to be offered to nonebut a king;and from a flave ^ too. you fay that you ask and exped only one fa- * vourof him; thathe would favethe lives of thole ci- * tizens who are efteemed by perfons of worth, and by ' all the Roman people, what then, unlefs he fliall * gracioufly pleafe, we muft not live? but it is better to *die, than to owe our lives to him. no, I cannot * think the Gods are fuch declared enemies to the fafe- * ty of Rome, as to be willing that the life of any citi- * zen fiiould be begged of Odavius; and farlefs, the * lives of thofe who are the deliverers of the univerfe * O Cicero, can you confefs that he has fuch * power; and (till be one of his friends? or if you love * me, can you defire to fee me at Rome, when I cannot * come thither without obtaining that boy's permif. * fion? for what do you thank him; if you think that * our life muft ftill be begged of him as a favour? muft * we reckonit ahappinefs that he chufes to have fuch ' favours asked rather of him than of Antony? * this weaknefs and defpair which others are guilty of ' as well as you, firft emboldened Caefar to make him- * felf king but if we remembered that we are Ro- * mans, the ambition of thefe bafe men to ufurp the * government would not have been greater than our ' courage in defending it. I am afraid that you who * have been conful and avenged the public of fo many * crimes have thereby only delayed our ruin for a Ihort * while, how can you behold what you have done? ' — • how weak, indecent, and mean muft this difcourfe have appeared, if it had been filled with witticifms and quaint conceits? But now (hall thofc who ought to fpeak like a- iy6 A L r. T T E R T O poftles, gather nn, with induftrlous afFedatlon, thofe flowers of rhetoric that Demoftlienes, jManlius and Brutus trampled on? flrall we imagine that the mini- fters of the aofpcl have lefs concern for the eternal falvation of fouls, than Demofthenes for the liberty of his country; lefs zeal to do good, than Manlius had ambition to feduce the multitude ; or lefs refoluti- on than Brutus, who chofe death rather than to owe his life to a tyrant? I own , that the florid kind of eloquence has its beauties: but they are quite mifapplyed in thofe dif- courles that ought to be animated with the nobleft padions; and wherein there is no room for delicate turns of wit. the florid fort of rhetoric can rever come up to the true fublime. what would the antients have faid of a tragedy, wherein Hecuba laments her misfor- tunes with points of wit. true grief does not talk thus, or what could we think of a preacher who fhould, in the moft afFeded jingle of words, fliew finners the divine judgment hanging over their head, and hell o- pen under their feet? there is a f decency to be obfer- ved in our language, as in our cloaths. a difconfolate widow does not mourn in fringes, ribbons, and em- broidery, and an apoflolical minifter ought not to preach theword of God in a pompous ftile, full of af- fefted ornaments, the Pagans would not have endu- red to fee even a comedy lb ill-aded. f Nunc quid aptum fit,hoc [ nus omnique in re pofic eft, quid maxime deceat in o- I quod deccat facere, artis et ratione,videamus: quamquam | naturae eft; fcire, quid, quan- id quidem perfpicuum eft,non ( doque deceat, prudentiae. omni caufae, nee auditori,ne- 1 Cicero de Orat. lib. iiit que perfonae, ncque tempori j §. jj congruere orationis unum ge- THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 177 Utridentibus arrident, ita flentibusadflent Humani vultus. (1 vis me flere, dolcndum eft Primumipfi tibl: tunc tua me infortunia laedent, Telephe, vel Peleu: male fi mandata loqueris, Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo: triftia moeltum Vultum verba decent Hor. de Ar. Poet. v. 1 01 . We muft not judge fo unfavourably of eloquence as to reckon it only a frivolous art that a declaimer ufes to impofe upon the weak imagination of the mul- titude^ and to ferve his own ends, it is a very ferious art ; defigned to inftrud people; fupprefs their pafli- ons ; and reform their manners ; to fupport the laws ; direct public councils ; and to make men good and happy, the more pains an haranguer takes to dazzle me, by the artifices of his difcourfe, the more I fliould defpife his vanity, his eagernefs to difplay his wit would in my judgment render him unworthy of the leaft admiration. I love a ferious preacher, who fpeaks for my fake ; and not for his own ; who feeks my fal- vation, and not his own vain-glory, he beil defervcs tobeheardwhoufes fpeech only to cloath his thoughts; and his thoughts only to promote truth and virtue. nothing is more defpicable than a profelFed declaimer, who retails his difcourfes, as a quack does his medi- cines. I am willing this point fiiould be determined by the very heathens . Plato would not permit iii his re- public fuch effeminate notes of mtific as the Lydians ufed. the Lacedemonians excluded from theirs uU in- ftruments that were too compound d; left they (hculd foften the people's temper, fuch harmony as ferves 178 A LE T T E R T O merely to pleafe the ear, is an amufcment fit only for foft and idle perfons; and is nnworthyof a well-or- dered commonwealth, it is no farther valuable than the founds agree to the fenfe of the words; and the V'ords infpire virtuous fentiments. painting, fculp- ture, and other elegant arts, ought to have the fame end. this ought undoubtedly to be the defign of elo- quence too. pleafure ought to be mixt with it only to ferve as a counter-poife to men's vicious paflions; and to render virtue amiable. I would have an orator prepare himfelf a long time by general fludy , to acquire a large (lock of know- ledge; and to qualify himfelf for compofing well: that fo he might need the lefs preparation for each particu- lar difcourfe. I would have him naturally a man of good-fenfe; and to reduce all he fays to * good-fenfe as the (landard of his difcourfe. hisftudies fhould be folid: he fhould apply himfelf to reafon juftly ; and in- duftrioufly avoid all fubtil and over-refined notions, he fhould diilriift his imagination ; and not let it in- fluence his judgment, he fhould ground every dif- courfe upon fome evident principle ; and from that draw the moft obvious and natural confequences. Scribendi re<5le fapere eft et principium et fons: Rem tibi Socraticae poterunt oftendere chartae: Verbaque provifam rem non invita fequentur. J, Caeterarum artium f^u- dia fere rcconditis, atc]ue ab- ditis e fontibus hauriuntur : dicendi autem omnis ratio in medio pofita, communi quo- dam in ufu, atque in hominum more et fermone vcrfatur: ut in cacteris id maxime cxcel- lat, quod longifTime fitab im- peritorum intelligentia fenfu- que disjunftum : in dicendo autem vitium vel maximum eft , a vulgari gcnere oratio- nis,atquc a confuetudine com- munis fenfus abhorrcre. Cicero de Orat. lib. i. §. 3* THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 179 Qui didicit patriae, quid debeat, et quid amicis, Quo fit amore parens, quo frater amandus et hofpes: ille profefto Redderc perfonae fcit convenientia cuique. Hor. de Ar. Poet. v. 309. Generally (peaking, a florid declaimer knows nei- ther the principles of found philofophy, nor thofe of the Chriftiandodrine, for perfefting the manners of men. he minds nothing but bright exprefTions, and ingenious turns, what he chiefly wants is folid know- ledge, he can talk handfomely without knowing what he ought to fay. he weakens the mod impor- tant truths by his vain and elaborate turns of fancy, or exprefTion. On the contrary, the true orator f adorns his dif- courfe only with bright truths, noble fentiments, and fuch ftrong expreffions as are adapted to his fubjed, and to the paffions he would excite, he thinks; he feels ; and his words flow naturally from him. * he * does not depend on words ( fays St. Auftin ) but * they on him.' a man that has a great and adtive foul, with a natural eafinefs of fpeech, improved by prac- tice, needs never fear the want of exprefliions. his moft ordinary difcourfes will have exquifite ftrokes of oratory that the florid haranguers can never imi- tate, he is not a flave to :{: words ; but clofely pur- t Sed ortiatus ( repctam e- 1 | Propterea non debet quif- nim) virilis, fortis et fan£lus [ fit: nee effoeminatam laevita- tcm, nee fuco eminentem co- loremamet; fanguine et vi- ribus niteat. Quint, lib. viii, c. 3. M 2 quam ubi maxima rerum mo- menta verfantur, de verbis ef- (e follicitus. Idem. ib. 1 So A L E T T E Tv T O fues the truth, he knows that vehemence is as it were the foul of eloquence, he firfl lays down the principle ■which muft ferve to clear the fubjedhe treats of. he fets this principle in the fulleft light, he turns it every way to give his floweft hearers a clear view of it. he draws theremoteft confequences from it by aconcife and obvious train of rcafoning. every truth is fet in its proper place with regard to the whole: it prepares, leads on, and fupports, another truth that needed its affiftance. this juft order prevents the trouble of need- lefs repetitions, but it retrenches none of thofeufefu I ones, that ferve to diredt the hearer's attention fre- quently to that chief point on which the whole de- pends, the orator muft often (liew him the conclufion that is contained in the principle: and from this prin- ciple, as from the center, he muft fpread a due light overall the parts of the difcourfe: as a skilful painter places the light fo in his pidure, as from one fingle point to diftribute a due proportion of it to every fi- gure, the whole difcourfe is one ; and may be reduced to oneCngle propofition, fet in the ftrongeft light, by various views and explications of it. this unity of de- fignftiews the whole performance at one view: as in the public places of a city, one may {ec all theftreets and gates ofit,whcn the ftreets are ftraight, equal, and duly proportioned, the difcourfe is the propofition unfold- ed: and the propofition is an abftracft of the difcourfe. Denique fit quod vis fimplexduntaxat etunum. Hor. de Ar. Poet. v. 23. He who perceives not the beauty and force of this unity and order^ has never feen any thing in its full THE FRENCH ACADEMY. i5i light, he has only feen fhadows in Pkto's cavern, what fhould we fay of an archited: who could fee no difference between a ftateJy palace, whofe apartments areadjufted with the exadeft proportion, fo as to make one uniform ftrufture ; and a confufed heap of little buildings which do not compofe one regular plan, tho' they be all placed together? what comparifon is there betwixt the Colifaeum, and a confufed multitude of irregular houfes in a city? there can be no true uni- ty in any compofure, unlefs there can be nothing ta- ken from it without fpoiling it. it never has a right order but when we cannot difplace any part without weakening, obfcuring, and difordering the whole, this is what Horace explains perfedly well. cui Ie<5ta potenter erit res Nee facundia deferet hunc, nee lucidus ordo. Ordinis haec virtus erit, et Venus, aut ego fallor Ut jam nunc dicat, jam nunc debentia dici Pleraque differat, et praefens in tempus omittat. De Ar. Poet. An author who does not thus methodize his dif- courfeis not fully mafter of his fubjed: he has but an imperfedl tafte, and alow genius, order indeed is an excellence we feldom meet with in the productions of the mind, a difcourfe is perfed when it has at once method, propriety, ftrength, and vehemence, but in order to this, the orator muft have viewed, examined, and comprehended every point, that he may range each word in its | proper place, this is what an igno- i It is an infallible poof of \ the -want ofjuji integrity in eve- M 3 i82 A LETTER T O rant declaimer, who is guided by his imagination, can never difcern. Ifocratcsis fraooth, infinuating, and elegant: but can we compare him to Homer? I will go farther; and /y am not afraid to fay that I think Demofthenes a f greater orator than Cicero. I proteft there is no man admires Cicero more than I do. he embelliflies every thing he handles, he is an honour tofpeech: and makes that hippy ufe of words that no one elfe could, he has a valt variety of wit. he is even concife and vehe- ment when hedefigns to be fo againft Catiline, Ver- res,and Antony: but we may perceive fome finery in hisdifcourfes. his art is wonderful: but ftill we dif- cern it. while he is concerned for the fafety of the republic, he does not forget that he is an orator; nor ry "writing, from the Epopeia, or , heroic poem, down to the familiar epijlle, or flighteft ejfay either it} ■verfe or pro/e, if every fever al pari or portion fits not its proper place fo exadh,that the lea ft tranf- pofttion -would be imprcflicable — — if there be any pajfage in the middle, or end, -which might have flood in the beginning; or any in the beginning, -which might have flood as -well in the middle or end; there is properly in fuch a piece, neither beginning, middle, or end: it is a 7nere rhapfody, not a work, and the more it ajfumes the air or appearance of a real -work^ the ■more ridiculous it becomes. Charafterifticks, vol. iii. p. 259, 260. f Quorum ego virtutes plc- rafque arbitror fimiles, confi- lium, ordinem dividendi, prae- parandi, probandi rationem ; omnia denique, quae funt in- ventionis. in eloquendo eft a- liqua diverfitas; (Jenfior ille, [Demoftlienes ; ] hie [Cicero] copiofior: ille concludit ad- ftriftius; hie latius pugnat: il- le acuminc femper; hie fre- quenter et pondere : illi nihil detrahi poteft ; huic nihil ad- jici: curae plus in hoc; in illo naturae — cedendum vero in hoc quidem, quod ille ct prior fuit. et ex magna parte Cice- ronem, quantus eft, fecit, nam mihi videtur M. Tullius cum fc totum ad imitationern Grac- corum contuliilet , efEnxilTc vimDemofthenis,copiam Pla- tonis, jucunditatem Ifocratis. Quint, lib. X. c. i. THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 183 does he let others forget it. Demofthenes feems tranf^ ported, and to have nothing in view but his country, he does not ftudy what is beautiful; but naturally falls into it, without reflecting, he is above admiration, he ufes fpeech, as a modeft man does his cloaths only to cover himfelf. he thunders; he lightens: he is like a torrent that hurrys every thing along with it. we can- jiot criticize him; for, he is mafter of our paflions. we confider the things he fays, and not his words, we lofe fight of him: we think of Philip only who ufurps everything. lam charmed with the fe two orators; but I confefs that Tully's prodigious art and magnifi- cent eloquence affe<5ls me lefs than the vehement fim- plicity of Demofthenes.^ * Art lefiens and expofes itfelf when it is too open, thus Longlnus fays that f ' Ifocrates blundered like * Sed hoc pati non pofTu- mus, et perire artem piitamus, nifi appareat : cum defmat ars efle, A apparet. Quintil. lib. iv. c. 2. hK 01 OTTUC, •srot/OO? TT^OLJ- jxci eVa3"€r — O eyOuf iv TYi eta^ohyi Ctv u(X,Vijfv- f>t)C\i'2 TCLVTCC Tl^miV * €- * Tret^ 01 Koyoi TOToujTm * e^vai luvoijuiy, ud^' oJov ' r eiva^ ^ rd juiydhx * roLTretvoL ziroimoLi, ^ ro7c ' fJLl'A.fo'ii; Ui^l^mOif fJLifi- M * 0Of, Kf TO. TrOLKCtfOCKOLiyu^ * eiTreiVy x^ cri^i rav vico^i * y^'^^f^^y^^v oi^X^^^ ^'* * iK^-etV,' OVKMV, c fJLiKKetQ ^ Toi 'sni>i AocKilatjuoyicoY ^ A^VIVCilQY OLYOCKKOLTJetV ; 5;^6W y^ TO Tuv Koyuv lyKCdfAiQV OLTTi^ioL^ryic xaQ OMT\i Tolc cLyL\i\iures; it is no wonder that we are pleafed with fuch natural de- fcriptions of human life, as we find in the Odjdrey. we fancy ourfeives to be in thofe pbces that Homer de- fcribes; and that we fee and hear people there, this N 4 20O A L ETTER TO fimplicity of manners feems to bring back the golden age. I am more pleafed with honeft Eumcus, than with any hero of Clelia, or Cleopatra, the foohfli pre- judices of the prefentage, make us undervalue fuch beauties, but our follies cannot leflen the true worth of fuch a limple rational life, unhappy are they who do not feel the charms of thefe verfes; Fortunate fenex, hie inter flumlna nota, Et fontes facros, frigus captabis opacum: ViRG. Eel. i. V. 52, Nothing can go beyond this defcription of a coun- try life; Ofortunatos nimium fuafibonanorint Agricolas ! quibus ipfa, procul difcordibus armis, Fundit humo facilem vidlumjuftiflima tellus. Atfecura quies, et nefcia fallere vita, Dives opum variarum ; ac latis otia fundis, Speluncae, vivique lacus ; V. Georg. ii. v. 458. every part of it pleafes me: even this place which is fo remote from Romantic notions; • at frjgida Tempe Mugitnfque bourn, mollefquefub arbore fomni Is'onabfunt, Ibid. v. 469.— In the fame manner am I delighted with Horace's folitude: THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 201 O rus, quando ego te afpiciam? quandoque licebit. Nunc veterum libris, nunc (bmno et inertibus horls Ducere foliicitae jucunda oblivia vitae? Satyr. L. II. S. vi. 60.— The antients did not think it enough to copy na- ture exadly: their pidures were mo ving,as well as true. Homer never paints a youth going to fall in battle, without giving him fome afFedling charms, he repre- fents him full of valour, and virtue: he raifes your love and concern for him: he makes you dread the danger that threatens him. he fhews you his father oppreffed with age,and alarmed at the danger of his dear fon. he fliews you his new married fpoufe trembling for him ; and you tremble with her: the poet enfnares your paf- fions. his defign in afFe(5ling you with fo much beauty and fweetnefs is only to prepare you for the fatal mo- ment wherein you fuddenly fee the man you love (6 much,weltering in his blood, and his eyes clofed in an eternal night. Virgil took as much care to raife our concern for Pallas, Evander's fon, as Homer did to make us la- ment Patroclus. we are pleafed with the grief we feel for Nifus, and Euryalus. I have feen a young prince, but eight years old, ftruck with forrow at the fight of little * Joafh's danger; and vext at the high-priefl's concealing his name, and royal birth from him. I have feen hnn weep bitterly at hearing thefe verfes; Ah miferam Eurydicen, anima fugiente vocabat: Eurydicen toto referebant flumine ripae. ViRG. Georg. iv. v. 526. ♦ 2, Kings, xi. 2, 202 ALETTERTO Was ever any thing more happily contrived, or fit- ter to raile a lively fentiment than this dream of Ae- neas? Tempus erat, quo prima quies mortalibus aegris * Incipit, et dono Divum gratiflima ferpit. In fomnis, ecce, anteoculosmoeftilTimus Hedtor Vifus adefle mihi, Raptatus bigis, ut quondam, aterque cruento Pulvere, perque pedes trajeitus lora tumentes. Hei mihi, qualis erat! quantum mutatus ab ilio He<5tore, qui redit exuvias indutus Achillei. Virg. Aen. ii. v. 268» llle nihil: nee me quaerentem vana moratur: Heu fuge, nate Dea, teque his, ait, eripe flammis: Hoftis habet muros: ruitalto a culn^ine Troja. Sat patriae, Priamoque datum — ^ — Sacra fuofque tibi conimendat Troja penates: Hos cape fatorum comites lb. V. 287. Could wit move the heart in this manner? can one read the following pafTage without being touched? O mihi fola mei fuper Aftyanadlrs imago! Sic ocolos, fie ille manus, fie ora ferebat ; Et nunc aequali tecum pubefceret aevo. Virg. Aen. L. iii. v. 489. Turns o'fwit would be very unfeafonable, and even fiiocking, In fuch a tender pafTage : where grief alone could be allowed to fpcak. The poet never mentions the death of any perfon THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 203 without defcribing fome peculiar circumftance that muft affeiS: the reader, we are grieved for diftrelTed vir- tue, when we read this paiTage ; cadit et Ripheus, juftiffimus unus Qui fuit in Teucris, et fervantifTimus aequi, Dls aliter vifum < Aen. L. ii. v. 426. \Ve fancy ourfelves in the midft of Troy feized with horror and compaflion when we read thefe lines: Turn pavidae teftis matres ingentibus errant, Amplexaeque tenent poftes, atqueofculafigunt: Vidi Hecubam, centumque nurus, Priamumque per (aras Sanguine foedantem, quos ipfe facraverat, ignes. Armadiu fenibr deftieta trementibus aevo Circumdat nequicquam humeris, et inutile ferrum Cingitur, ac denfos fertur moriturus in hoftes. Sic fatus fenior: telumque imbelle fine iftu Conjecit — Aeti. L.ii. V. 489, 501, S09, 544. Nunc morere. haec dicens, altaria ad ipfa trementem Traxit, et in multo lapfantem fanguine nati: Implicuitque coniam laeva, dextraque corufcum Extulit, ac lateri capulo tenus abdiditenfem. Haec finis Priami fatornm: hie exitus ilium Sorte tulit, Trojam incenfam, et prolapfa videntem ao4 A LE T T ER T O Pergama ; tot quondam populis terrifque fuperbuni Regnatorem /vfiac: jacet ingens littore truncus Avulfumque humeris cnput, et fine nomine corpus. At me turn primum faevus circum ftetit horror: Obltupui • Refpicio, et quae fit me circum copia luftro. Deferuere oninesdefcfli, et corpora faltu Adterrammifere, aut ignibus aegradedere. Virg. Aen. L.ii. v. 550,564, The poet does not reprefentEuridifc's misfortune, without fhewing her juft ready once more to view the light ; and in a moment plunged again into the infer- nal gloomy fhades. Jamque pedum referens, cafus evaferat omnes ; Redditaque Euridice fuperas veniebat ad auras ; Ilia, quis et me, inquit, miferam, et te perdidit Or- (pheu? Quis tantus furor? en iterum crudelia retro Fata vocant, conditque natantialuminafomnus. Jamque vale, feror ingenti circumdata no6te, Invalidafque tibi tendens, heu! non tua, palmas. Georg. L. iv. v. 485, 6, 494. We fympathize even with thofe wretched cattle that the poet fets before our eyes: Propter aquae rivum virldi procumbit in ulva Perdita, nee ferae nieminit decedere nodli : £ci. viii. V. 87. THE FRENCH ACADEMY. sof The peftilence raging among them makes a very moving pidure: Hinc laetis vituli vulgo moriuntur in herbis ; Et dukes animas plena ad praefepia reddunt. Labitur infelix ftudiorum, atque immemor herbae Victor equus ; fontefque avertitur, et pede terram Crebra ferit Ecce autem dure fnmans Tub vomere taurus doncidit, et milium ipumis vomit ore cruorem, Extremofquecietgemitus: ittriftisarator Moerentem abjungens fraterna morteju vencum; Atque opere in medio defixa relinquit aratra. N on umbrae altorum nemorum, non mollia poflunt Pratamovereanimum; non qui perfaxavolutus Pnrior eleftro campum petit amnis: atimi Solvuntur latera: atque oculosftuporurgetinertes: Ad terramque fluit devexo pondere cervix. Georg. L. iii. v. 494, 498, 515. This poet gives life and paflion to every objed. in his verfes every thing thinks, and feels: the very trees move you. Exiit ad coelum ramis felicibus arbos, Miraturque novas frondes, et non fua poma. Georg. L. ii. v. 81,2. A flower raifes your pity when Virgil paints it juft drooping. toC ALETTERTO Purpureus velud cum flos fuccifus aratro Languefcit moriens. Aen. L. ix. v. 43^. You think that you fee the fraallefl: plants that the Ipring revives, and adorns: Inque novos foles audent fe gramina tuto Credere — ' Geor. L. ii. v. 332. A nightingale is Philomela moviq^ your compani- on for her misfortunes ; Qualis populea moerens philomela fub umbra AraifTos queritur foetus, quos durusarator Obfervans nido implumes detraxit: at ilia Flet nodlera, ramoque fedens miferabile carmen Ijjtegrat, etmoeftis latelocaqueftibusimplet. Geor. L.iv. V. 511. Horace in three verfes draws a pidlure in which eve- fy thing is lively and affeding. fugit retro Levis juventas et decor, arida Pellente lafcivos amores Canitie, facilemque foranum. Carm. Lib. ii. Od. xi. v. ^. Would he with two ftrokes of his pencil draw two men whom every-body mull know at firfl; fight? he fets THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 207 before your eyes the incorrigible folly of PariS;and the implacable rage of Achilles. Quid Paris? ut falvus regnet, vivatque beatus, Cogi poiTe negat Ep. L. i. Ep.ii.v. 10. Tmplger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer; Jura neget fibi nata, nihil non arroget armis. DeAr, Poet. v. 12!. Would he mike us in love with the place where he wifiied to end his days with his friend? he makes us long to go thither. Ille terrarum mihi praeteromnes Angulus ridet ibi tu calentem Debita fparges lachryma favillam Vatis amici. Carm. Lib. ii.Od.vi. Does he give us the chara^er of Ulyflfes? herepre- fents him as above the reach of ftorms, and fhipwrack^ and the greateft calamities. afpera multa Pertulit, adverfis rerum immerfabilis undis. Ep. L. i. Ep. ii.v. 21. Does he defcribe Rome invincible, even under her misfortunes? hear him: io8 A L E T T E R T O Duris ut ilex tohfa bipennibus l^igrae feraci frondis in Algido, Perdamna, per caedes, abipfo Ducit opes animumque ferro. ISfon Hydi-a fedto corpore firmior, &c, Carm.Lib. iv. Od. iv. 57. Catullus (whom one cannot name without detefting his obfcene verfes,) hit the perfeftionof atender fim- plicity. Odi, etamo: quare id faciam fortafle requiris. ^ Nefcioj fed fieri fentio, et excrucior. Epigr. 86. How much are the elaborate witty conceits of O- vid and Martial inferiour to thefe negligent words; where the diftra6ted heart alone fpeaks in a kind of defpair? What can be more fimple, and more moving than King Priam's being reduced in his old age to kifs the murdering hands of Achilles * who had deftroyedhis children, he begs of him the great He(ftor's body, as the only alleviation ofhismifery. he muft have fpoil- ed all if he had given the leafl: ornament to his words: therefore they exprefs nothing but his grief, he con- jured him by his own father who funk under old-age, to have pity upon the moft wretched of all fathers. Wit has the misfortune to weaken thofe ftrong paf- Cons it pretends to adorn, according to Horace, a poem is not to be valued much for being bright and fine, unlefs it be likewife moving, delightful, and con- fequently, fimple, natural, and full of paflion: ^ Iliad, lib. xxiv. THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 209 Non fatis eft pulchra eflepoemata, dulcia funto, Etquocunque volentanimum auditoris agunto. De Ar. Poet. v. 99. That which is only beautiful, I mean, bright, has but half the beauty it ought to have, * true beauty muft exprefs the pallions well in order to excite them: it fhould captivate the mind, and keep its attention fteddily fixt on the true f defign of a poem, §. VI. With regard to dramatic poetry, we muft * Evert in the arts ivJ^ch are merely imitations of outivard grace and beauty, we not only confefs a tajie ; but make it a part of re- fined breeding to difcover, amidfl the many falfe rnanners, and ill Jliles, the true and natural one, ■which reprefents the real beauty and Venus of the kind, it is the like moral grace and Venus -which difcovering itfelf in the turns of chara^er , and the variety of hu- man affetl'tons, is copied by the 'writing artift. if he knows net this Venus, thefe graces, nor -was ever Ji ruck with the beauty, the decorum of this inwurd kind, he can never paint advantagecujly after the life ; nor in a feigned fuhjed; whae he has full fcope. Charafterifticks, vol. i. p. 336,7- f Let poets or the men of har- mony, deny, if they can, this force of nature, or with/land this mo- ral magic, they for their parts, carry a double portion of this charm about -with them : for, in thcfirfl place, the very paffion that infpires them is itfelf the love of number 5 ^ decency, and proportion ; and this too, 7iot in a narrow fen fe, or af- ter a fclfi/lj way, {for who is there that compofes for himfelj ? ) but in a friendly facial view -jfor the pkafure and good of others ; even down to pofierity, and future ages, in the next place, it is evident in thefe performers, that their chief theme and fubjeii , that which raifes their genius the mofi, and by which they fo efeRual/y move others, is purely manners, and the moral p./rt. for this is the effeB-^ and this the beauty of their art, in vocal meafures of fyllables, and founds, to exprefs the harmony and numbers of an inward kind ; and rcprefent the beauties of a human foul by proper foils and contrarie- ties, which ferve as graces in this lirnuiiig, and render this vufic of the pafjions more powerful and en-' chanting. Charaft. vol. i. p. 1^6. 7. aio ALETTERTO firft: diftingulfli between tragedy, and comedy, the former exhibits fuch great events as are apt to excite violent pafTions. the latter only defcribes the manners of men in a private condition. As for Tragedy, I mufl: begin with declaring that I wifhour poets may never aim at improving any fcene that reprefents fuch criminal paffions as tend to in- flame the fpedators. I obfeived before that Plato and other wife legiflators among the Heathen excluded from their well-regulated focieties all fuch fables and mufical inftruments as might unman the people by in- clining them to fenfuality. how much feverity then ought Chriftian nations to fhow againfl: all contagious fpedacles? fo far am I from defiring to have fuch en- tertainments improved , that it gives me a fenfible pleafurc to obferve that among us they are very low and imperfed. our poets have made them as lufcious and infipid as Romances, the lover talks of nothing but flames, chains, and torments: he is for dying in perfed health, a very homely lady is called a Sun, or an Aurora at lead: her eyes are two ftars. every ex- preflion is extravagant ; and there is nothing that dif- covers a natural pafFion. it is fo much the better: the wcaknefs of the poifon lefl^ens the danger, but, me- thinks, that according to the philofophical notions of antiquity, there might be a wonderful force given to tragedy, without any mixture of that fickle extrava- gant love which produces fo many pernicious effedls. Among the Greeks, tragedy did not in the leaft de- pend on wanton love, the Oedipus of Sophocles, for inftance, hasnottheleaft touch of that paffion, which was quite foreign to his fubje<5l. the other tragedies of that great poet are compofed in the fame manaer. M. THfi FRENCH ACADEMY. 211 Cornellle in his Oedipus, has only weakened his afti' on, made it double, and divided the fpetflator's atten- tion, by the Epifode of Thefeus's infipid pafllon for Dirce. M. Racine fell into the fame inconvenience in his Phaedra, he has made a double adion, by joining to the diftradted Phaedra, Hippolitus fighing, contrary to his true character, he (hould have fliown Phaedra quite alone in her rage, the aflion would then have been fingle, (hort, lively and vehement, but our two tragic poets, who in other refpe<5ts deferve the high- eft praifes, were carried away with the ftream; and fell in with the Romantic tafte that prevailed, the wit then in fafhion introduced love in every piece, they thought it impoflible to entertain an audience agree- ably for two hours without the help of fome amorous intrigue, people thought it modifh to be impatient at the nobleft and moft affeding fcenes, unlefs fome whining hero came in to interrupt it. his very fighs iGuft be fet off with quibbles; and his defpair be ex- preft in a kind of epigram, fo far doth the defire-of pleafing the vulgar tafte conftrain our greateft poets to tranfgrefs the rules of decorum, hence came this fan- taftic fort of pafTion: •* Thou cruel thirftof fame whofe noble rage Drives me to death, to give my mem'ry life; * Impitoyable foifde gloire, Dont Taveugle et noble tranfport Me fait precipiterma mort, Pour faire vivre ma memoire : Arrete pour quelques momens Les impetucux fentimens De cette inexorable envie; •Et foufTre qu'en ce triile jour O 2 012 ALETTERTO Stop but a moment thy Impetuous courfc; And let nie itill, before 1 breathe my lafl: This wretched day, give one more figh to love, the hero dared not die of grief without a quibble Or turn of wit at expiring. Hence too comes this fwelling florid defpair: f A fatal and an unexpected blow Has ftruck me to the bottom of the heart: Wretched avenger of a too juft quarrel! And wretched objed of unjuft revenge. never did real grief fpeak infuch apompousaffefted ftrain. I think it would be proper to rid tragedy of that fenfelefs fullian, which has not the leaft air of proba- bility, for example the following lines have fome- thing in them very extravagant: % Impatient wiflies of a brave revenge, Who owe your being to a father's death; Avant que de donner ma vie Je donne un foupir a I'amour. Racine. f Perce jufques au fond du cocur D'une atteinte imprevue aulli-bien que mortelle; MiCcrable vangciir d'une jufic querelle! Et malheureux objct d'une injufte rigueur. J Impaticns dcfirs d'une llhiftre vengeance, A qui la mort d'une pere a donnc la naiflancc; Enfans impctueux de mon reflentiment, Que ma douleur seduite embrafle aveuglement; Vous regncz fur mon ame avec trop d'empire, Pour Ics moins fouifrcz un moment que je refpirc, THE FRENCH A CADEMY. 213 Impetuous children of my juft refentment Blindly embrac'd by my mifguided grief, Ye rule my foul with a too abfolute fway. Let me at lead enjoy one moment's eafe In this my anxious ftate, that I may weigh Both what I hazard, and what I purfue. M. Boileau obferved in thefe verfes a genealogy of im- patient wifhes of a brave revenge; which were the im- petuous children of a juft refentment;and were embra- ced by a mifguided grief, the chief perfons in a trage- dy who fpeak with pafllon, ought to exprefs it in a noble lively manner: but the pafTions always fpeak na- turally, and without fuch afFeded turns, people in af- flidion would not deflre to be condoled by their friends, in fuch pompous afre<5led language. M. Racine was not free from this defeat which cuf- tom had made almoft neceffary. nothing can be lefs natural than the account of Hippolitus' death at the end of the tragedy of Phaedra; which otherwife has great beauties in it. Theramenes who comes to ac- quaint Thefeus of his fon's fatal death, fhould only have told it in two words; and hardly have had ftrength to pronounce them diftindlly. he fhould have faid, * Hippolitus is dead a monfter, which the angry ' gods fentfrom the bottom of the fea, devoured him * 1 faw it.' could a man fo concerned, frighten- ed, breathlefs, amufe himfelf in making a pompous florid defcription of the fea-monfter? Et que je confidere en I'etat ou je fuis Et ce queje hazarde, et ce que je pourfuis. CORNEILLE, O 3 2 14 ALETTERTO ^ His melancholy look, and drooping head Seem'd to exprefs his fad, dejedled thoughts: It mov'd the earth, infeoJo7^ tnKr.^yjv uv t iv 'sravrl d- juS^ot;^ o/jio); ll »;^ dfAOLf- X^ibiC, KlVOVVO(; <7lJ.iy.j>'0Tn- ^fACcjoL JUahKOV CWTOLIKM' to;' — TOL Oi jUiyxKociwicr' (Tia, kolkcoy, h cra^o^a^wa- (pccKri 0/ OMTO ytviJ^oij to la ll dyAhetoLv, ^^n -arv ^ y.ivi^o;, I cJc 'Itv^iv, pzaro fjnycLKo- Long. ^. xxxiii. , ^y/a^ avi7n<^0LTC^i; 'sra^i^ \ Hot^dTi^etyAvo; a)t ' vmif/Jiivoi. oKtfot Hf oJtoc djuoLf%' Long. §. xxxiii. /xoclot, ^ Oiurf'\i ^ r'iff oLh- | Xj ro julv oct/Iccjtov^ hcov OdQi (jiiyi^oiy ^ mi^cc -^iyi), to ^sya %l x^ 9cc(/- toIq 'a-^oijiTj:A0C7iv oi^i<7)CQ- ^ /Ad'(^i), Id. §. xxxvi, a 4 24« A LETTER TO dicious critic thought that it was in Homer's old-age that he fometimes nodded a little, in the tedious nar- rations of the OdyfTe: but he adds that *# after all, this old-age is the old-age of an Homer. Indeed fome carelefs ftrokes of great painters excell the mod finifli- ed pieces of a common artift. an ordinary critic can- not relifh what is fublime: it does not affedl him. he employs himfelf more agreeably about a mifplaced word, or a carelefs exprefTion. he does not fully per- ceive the beauty of the general plan, and the order and flrength that runs throughout a compleat piece. I fnoulti like as well to fee him bufyed about orthogra- phy, comma's, and points of interrogation. I pity the author that falls into fuch hands: Barbarus has fegetes- Virg. Eel. i. v. 72. the critic who cenfures nobly is delighted with what is noble in the work, he defpifes what Longinus calls f an exa(ft and fcrupulous delicacy. Horace is of this Jtafte Verum ubl plura nitent in carminej non ego paucis OfFendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit, Aut humana parum cavit natura De Ar. Poet. v. 351, Befides, themonftrousgroflnefs of religion among the ajitients, and their want of true moral philofophy *^ ctKKoi y^cjLi; \iv\yii- 1 f«, Longinus. J. ix. THEFRENCHACADEMY. 249 till the days of Socrates, tend, in one refpeft, to the honour of the antient writer, for, certainly Homer was obliged to defcribe his gods juft fuch as religion then reprefented them to the idolatrous world, he behoved to defcribe men with thofemanners that pre- vailed in Greece, and the lefTer Alia, to blame Homer for copying nature faithfully, is to find fault with M. Mignard, M. deTroye, and M. Rigaut for drawing exad pictures, ought Momus to be drawn like Jupi- ter; Silenus,llke Apollo; Aledo, hke Venus; or Ther- fites, like Achilles? muft our prefent court be painted with the ruffs and beards ufed in former leigns? fincc Homer therefore was to paint according to truth ; ought we not to admire the order, proportion, grace, life, adion, and fentiments that he has given to every thing he has drawn, the more monftrous and ridicu- loushis religion was, he is the more to be admired for having ennobled it with fo many magnificent images: the grofTer that the manners of his age were,the more furprifmg it is to fee that he has given fo much lively force to what is in itfelffo irregular, abfurd, and fhock- ing. what would he not have done, if he had had a Socrates to draw, or an Arlftides, aTimoleon, an A- gis, a Cleomenes," a Numa, a Gamillus, a Brutus, or an Aurelius? Some aredifgufted at the frugality of the manners which Homer defcribes. but befides that he behoved toreprefcntthis antient fimplicity as faithfiiUy as he did the groffnefs of the Pagan religion: I mufl: add, that nothing can be more amiable than this antient fimplicity of manners, can they who improve their reafon, and love virtue, compare that vain ruinous luxury which is now the corruption of our manners, 2SO ALETTERTO and a reproach to the nation, with the happy and ele- gant fimplicity that the anticnts fet before our eyes? When I read Virgil, I would wifli 1 were with that old man hedefcribes: Namque fub Oebaliae memini me turribus altis. Qua niger humed:at flaventia cuItaGalefus, Corycium vidilFefencm: cui pauca relidi Jugera ruriserant; nee fertilis ilia ju vends. Nee pecori opportuna feges Regum aequabatopesanimis; fcraquerevertens Isodle domum dapibus menfas onerabat inemptis. Primus vere rofam, atque autunino carpere poraa; Et cum triftis hyems etiam nunc frigore faxa Rumperet, etglacie curfus fraenaret aquarum; lUe comam mollis jam nunc tondebat Acanthi Aeftatem increpitans feram, Zephyrofque morantes. Geor. iv. v. 125, 132. Has not Homer given beauty enough to Calypfo's ifle and the gardens of Alcinous, without the help of marble, or gilding? are not the employments of Naufi- caa more commendable than the gaming and intrigues of our women nowfour fore-fathers would have blufh- ed at them: and yet fome dare defpife Homer for not having prophetically defcribed thofe monftrous man- ners, while as yet the world was fo happy as to know nothing of them. Virgil who had a full view of all the Roman mag- nificence, has yet given a beauty to king Evander's poverty ; and made it an ornament to his poem. Talibus inter fe di^tis ad tedla fubibant THE FRENCH ACADEMY. aji Pauperis Evandri: palfimque armenta videbant Romanoque foro, et lautis mugire carinis. Ut ventum ad fedes, haec, inquit, limina vidor Alcides fubiit; haec ilium regia cepit. Aude hofpes conteranere opes; et te quoque dignum Finge Deo j rebufque veni non afper egenis. Dixit, et angufti fubter faftigia tedi Ingentem Aenean duxit; ftratifque locavit EfFultum foiiis, et pelle Libyftidinis urfae. Aen. viii. v. 359. the fhameful corruption of our manners hinders os from railing our views to admire the fublimity of thefe words, Aude hofpes contemnere opes . Titian who excelled in country pieces paints a ver- dant valley, with a clear ftream running through it, fteep mountains, anddiftantprofpeds bounded by the horizon, he never paints a fine parterre, with foun- tains and marble bafons. in like manner Virgil does not draw proud fenators bufyed in criminal intrigues: he reprefents an innocent labourer happy in his coun- try-life. Deindefatis fluvium inducit, rivofquefequentes, Et cum exuftus ager morientibus aeftuat herbis, Ecce fupercilio clivofi tramitis undam Elicit: ilia cadens raucum per laevia murmur Saxa ciet, fcatebrifque arentia temperat arva. Geor. i. v. 106. This poet even ventures to compare a free, peace- ful; country life with the troublefome delights that ays ALETTERTO people of great fortunes enjoy; and he imagines no- thing more happy than a moderate condition; in which a wife man may be equally fecure from envying the profperity of fome; and fympathizing in the miferies of others. Ilium non populi fafces, non purpura regum Flexit ■ neque ille Autdoluit miferansinopem, autinvidit habenti. Quos rami friK^ns,quos ipfa volentia rura Sponte tulere fua, carpfit — ■ Geor. ii. v. 495. Horace fled from the delights and magnificence of Rome, to enjoy himfelf in folitude. Faflidiofam defere copiam, et Molem propinquam nubibus arduis; Omittemirari beatae Fumum, et opes, ftrepitiimque Romae. Car. L. iii. v. 9. Od. 29. — mihi jam non regia Roma, Sed vacuum Tibur placet, aut imbelle Tarentum. Ep.L. II. Ep. vii. V. 44. AVhen poets would charm the imagination of men they lead them far from great cities, and make them forget the luxury of the age: they carry them back to the golden age: they reprefent (hepherds dancing on the flowry grafs, under the ftiade of fome grove, in a delightful feafon ; rather than turbulent courts, and THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 2^3 great men, who are unhappy by their very grandeur. * Sweet folltude, th' abode of innocence! Where far from all the objects of vain pomp, My eafe begins, and reftlefs trouble ends ; Valleys, rocks, rivers, pleafing lonely (hades ; If ye were witnefles of my difquiet. Henceforth obferve my calm intire content. Nothing fo plainly (hews the corrupted manners of a nation as this difdainful luxury that defpifes the fru- gal fimplicity of the antients. it was this corruption that overthrew Rome, f * tb^y began (fays Saluft) to * intrigue; tocaroufe; to grow fond of imagery, pain- * tings, carved veflels wealth began to be reckon- * ed honourable virtue to languifh; and poverty * to be thought a reproach houfes and country- * feats were built like towns mountains were le- * veiled by private perfons who feemed to me to * fport away their riches • the earth and feas were * ranfacked for delicacies * the poor Ithaca of U- lyflTes pleafes me far more than a city fhining with fuch • Agreables deferts, fejour de 1' innocence, Oii loin des vains objets de la magnificence Commence mon repos, et finit mon tourment, Vallons, fleuves, rochers, aimable folitude, Si vous futes tcmoins de mon inquietude, Soyez-le deformaisde mon contentment. f Infucvit amare, potare, figna, tabulas piftas, vafa coe- lata mirari — divitiae bono ri efle coeperunt hebefce- re virtus ; paupertas probro haberi — domos atque villas — in urbium modum exae- dificatas a privatis com- pluribus fubverfos montes — efle; quibus mihi ludibrio vi- dentur fuifle divitiae — vcf- cendi caufa terra marique om- nia exquirerc Sal. Bell. Catil. 2^4 ALETTERTO extravagant magnificence, happy were mankind if they could be fatisfied with fuch pleafures as may be enjoyed without guilt or ruin, it is not the noble fim- plicity of the antients that ought to be corre<5led ; but our folly and pernicious vanity. I cannot believe what fome learned men have ima- gined; who tell us that Homer has intenvoven in his poems, the moft refined politics, the pureil morality, and the fubliraeft notions of theology. I cannot in- deed difcover thefe wonders in that poet's works: but I perceive the ufeful inftru6lion he defigned to give the Greeks whom he wiflied to fee always united; and thereby more powerful than the Afiatics. he fliewed them that Achilles* refentment againft Agamemnon brought greater misfortunes on Greece, than the Tro- jan arms. Quicquid delirant reges, pleduntur Achivi. Seditione, dolis • Hor. Ep. L. I. Ep. ii. v. 14. In vain did the Platonifts of the lower empire (who impofed on Julian ,) fancy that there are allegories and deep myfteries in the ftories of the deities that Homer defcribes. thefe myfteries are chimerical, it appears from the holy fcripture; from the fathers who con- futed the heathen idolatry; and from the plaineft evi- dence of fad:, that the religion of the antients wasmon- flrous and extravagant, but Homer did not frame it: he found it eftablifhed; and could not alter it. he has adorned it: he has concealed much art in his work: he has ranged all the parts of it in fuch an order as con- tinually raifes the reader's curiofity. he has painted THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 2j; every thing with fimplicity, beauty, force, majefty, and paflion. what can we defire more? It is natural for the moderns who excel in elegance, and ingenious turns to fancy that they have furpafTed theantients ; whofe chief excellence is a natural fim- plicity. but I muft beg leave here to propofe a fort of apologue, the inventers of the Gothic kind of archi- tecture (which is faid to have come from the Arabi- ans , ) fancied no doubt that they had out-done the Greek archite<5ls. a Grecian ftruflure has nothing in it that is merely ornamental, the parts that are necef- fary to fupport, or to cover it, as the pillars, and the cornifli, become ornaments only by their beautiful proportion, every thing is fimple, exa<5t, and ufeful, we fee nothing in it either bold, or fanciful, that can impofeon the fight, the proportions are fo juft, that nothing feems very noble, tho* the whole really be fo. everything is defigned to fatisfy true reafon. on the contrary the Gothic architeft, upon very (lender pillars, raifes up a vaft roof into the clouds, one would fancy it were going to tumble, tho' it ftands many ages, it is all full of windows, rofes, and little knacks, theftones fcem to be pincked, and cut-out like paper- baubles, every thing looks gay and light; as it were hanging in the air. was it not natural now for the firft Gothic architefts to imagine that by their vain refine- ments they had out-done the Greek fimplicity? now only change the names ; and put poets and orators in- flead of architefts: Lucan muft naturally fancy he was a greater poet than Virgil. Seneca the tragedian muft imagine he was brighter than Sophocles. Taftb per- haps hoped he ftiould out-ftrip Virgil and Homer, if thefe authors thought fo, they were much deceived, aj<$ A LETTER TO THE FRENCH ACADEMY. and the mofl: excellent modern authors ftiould beware of the like miftake. Whilelfpcak thus freely, I would not be thought to determine this point. I only advife thofe who adorn the prefcnt age not to del'pife the antient writers who have been fo long admired. I do not extol the anti- en ts as models without any defeat. I would not even difcourageanyone from hoping to furpafs them, on the contrary, I wifli I conld fee the moderns excel by ftudying thofe very antients whom they fliall over- come, but 1 fhould think I exceeded the bounds pre- fcribedme, if I pretended to adjudge the prize to either of the contending parties: Non noftrum inter vos tantas componere lites: Et vitula tu dignus, et hie Virg. Ecl.iii. V. io8. You preffed me, Sir, to declare my thoughts: and I have not fo much confulted my ability, as my zeal for the Academy, perhaps I have gone too far; but I defigned not to fay a word that fiiould make me feem partial, it is time for me to conclude. Phoebus volentem praeliameloqui, Vidtas eturbes, increpuit lyra. Ne parvaTyrrhenumperaequor Vela darem Hor. Car. L. iv. Od. xv. v. i. I fliall always remain with a Cncere and high efteem, SIR, &c. THE END. A DISCOURSE PRONOUNCED B Y Mr. D E F E N E L O N, AFTERWARDS ARCHBISHOP OF C AM B R A Y PRECEPTO R TO THE YOUNG PRINCES OF FRANCE, WHEN HE "WAS ADMITTED A MEMBER OF THE FRENCH ACADEMY INTO THE PLACE OF Mr. P E L I S S O N, MASTER OF REQ,UESTS. GLASGOW: PRINTED AND SOLD BY ROfiERT AND ANDREW FOULIS. M..DCC.L. A DISCOURSE PRONOUNCED BEFORE THE FRENCHACADEMY. I Ought, Gentlemen, to fucceecl to Mr. PelilTon's e- loquence, as well as to his place, to be able to make a fiiltable acknowledgment for the honour I re- ceive, and to repair the lofs this fociety fuftains in the death of that valuable man. By tranflating in his early youth the greateft part of Homer, he made himfelf mafter of the art ofheight- ning the lead defcription with fpirit and beauty, in a little time he began a work upon the civil-law, which had no other fault, than that it was notfinifhed. from thefe noble efTays he foon proceeded to his mafter- piece, the hiftory of the Academy, facility, inventi- on, elegance, infmuation, propriety of thought, and ingenious turn of exprefTion, the diflinguifhing cha- raderlftics of his genius, fiiine throughout the piece, we may apply to him, what Horace faid of the Ro- mans, he dared fuccefsfuUy ; his hands made flowers fpring up on all fides ; whatever he touched, received a new grace, the moft common herbs of the field were fitted by him to be the crowns of heroes; and the rule, fo necelfary for others, of chufing no fub- je&y that is not capable of being embellifhed, did not feem to regard him. his noble and eafy IVile refembled the motions of the fabulous deities, who glide through K 2 4 A DISCOURSE BEFORE the air, without touching the earth, his relations d'lC- cover fuchexquifite judgment in the choice of circum- ftances, a variety To entertaining, turns fo new and proper even in recounting the mofl: common things, fo much induftry in connedting the fadls, and fo much skill in tranfporting the reader into the very fcenes of a<5lIon, that agreeably deceived by the artificial texture of the narration, he imagines himfelf adually prefent, and an eye-witnefs of every paflage. Every one reads with pleafure and admiration the defcriptionof the birth of the Academy, fancies him- felfinthe very houfe of Mr. Conrart, which, if I may ufe the exprefTion, wasthenurfery ofit; remarks with infinite delight the fimpliclty, order, polltenefs, and elegance, which reigned in thofe aflemblics, and at- tracted the favour of an eminent minlfter ; then the jealoufies and umbrages, which interrupted the calm of thofe happy beginnings; and afterwards the repu- tation, which the academy acquired by the writings of her firft members, there we fee the illuftrlous Racan, the inheritor of Malherbe's harmony, Vaugelas, re- nowned for the delicacy of his ear in reforming our language, CornelUe, whofe great and bold characters Ihew, that he drew with a mafterly hand, Volture ever accompanied with an eafy, fmiling train of graces, there we difcover merit and virtue in ftrlCt alliance with erudition and delicacy, birth and rank with a re- fined tafte of literature, but I am Infenfibly carried bex'ond the bounds, which I prefcribed myfelf, and while I am fpeaking of the dead, I come too near the living, whofe modefty might be offended with my en- comiums. Whilfl: this fortunate revolution in favour of lear- ■ THE FRENCH ACADEMY. j- ning was depending, Mr. PelifTon takes occafion to recommend to pofterity the character of the great en- courager of it. Cardinal Richlieu at that jundure was changing the whole face of affairs in Europe, and af- fembling the fcattered remains of our civil wars, in order to lay the foundation of a power fuperior to all others, ever penetrating the clofefl: defigns of our e- nemies, impenetrable in refpeft to thofeof hismafter, he had the addrefs to direct in his cabinet the motions ofthemoft fecret fprings of foreign courts, and fo- ment and maintain the fpirit of divifion amongft them, fteady in his maxims, and inviolable in his promifes, he ftiewed the furprifing efFeds of a wife adminiftrati- on, and of allies placing an entire confidence in their confederates, endued by nature with an exquifite fa- gacityin knowing men, and the way to employ them according to their refpedtive talents, he engaged them to his perfon, and afterwards in his defigns for the ad- vantage of the public, by thefe powerful arts, thepride of the imperious houfe of Auftria, which threatned to reduce all Europe under her yoke, received a mortal blow, he put an end to the repeated rebeHions of the Huguenots, which of all his fuccefles was the moft ef- fential to the internal peace of France, and, to crown all, he introduced peace into a court, where there had been a lading fcene of difcord, and this was a work of the moft difficulty from his having an afpiring and jea- lous nobility to contend with, whom he found in pof- feffion of an independant ftate. thus time, which ef- faces the reputation of others, ferves only to advance his ; and the farther he is removed from us, he is feen to the greater advantage, but amidft his painful offi- ces he found fome moments of agreeable leifure, and R3 6 ADISCOURSEBEFORE relieved rhe anxieties ofbufinefs with the charms of e- loqnence and poetry he received into his bofom the Academy, whilfl: it was in its infancy, and a difcerning magiftrate, a favourer of learning, was his fucceiTor in the protection of it. Lewis adds to it the luftre, "which never fails of diftinguifhing, whatever he ho- nours with his countenance, under the ftiadow of this great name, you apply yourfelves inceifantly to reform and purify our language. Since men of learning and judgment have returned back to the antient ftandards, the abufe of wit and lan- guage is reformed ; and a way of writing more natu- ral, more nervous, and more concife, is introduced, no farther care is employed upon words, than as they are of abfolute nccefTity to exprefs our thoughts in their full force and extent ; and no other thoughts are allowed of, but fuchasare juft, folid, condufive, and ariling from the fubjed. the ufe of learning, which was formerly affeded with fo much vain parade, is now rejedted, except in cafes, where it is indifpen- fable; even wit itfelf receives acheck, becaufe the per- fection of art confifts in imitating the fimplicity of na- ture fo exa6tly, that it may be miftaken for her, from hence a luxurious fancy no longer pafTes for wit ; but that title is adjudged to belong only to a regular and corre<51: genius, which converts every thing to Icnti- ment, which clofely follows the modefly and piainnefs of nature, which brings all her thoughts to the fcale of reafon, and efteems nothing beautiful, that is not conformable to truth, the prefent age is convinced, that the florid ftile, however agreeable and engaging It may appear, is not the true fublime, wliich rejcc^Ung T H E F R E N CH A C AD E M Y. 7 all oftentatious ornaments of pomp and magnificence^ is found only in the natural. Men are at lad convinced, that they ought to write, as the Raphaels, the Carraches, and the Pouflins pain- ted, that they (hould neither labour to invent unnatu- ral extravagancies, nor trifle with the pencil to fhew the vivacity of their imagination, but employ their ut- mbft care to copy after nature, it is now acknowledg- ed, that the beauties of difcourfe refemble thofe of ar- chitedure. the boldeft pieces, and thofe, which come neareft to the Gothic order, are not cfteemed the beft. meer ornaments, which are of no ufe to the edifice, ought not to take place, but all the parts neceffary to the fupport of it, (hould be skilfully turned into or- naments, provided a ftridl regard be had to obferve the juft proportions. Thus in a difcourfe we retrench all ufelefs embel- lifhments, which neither ferve to illuftrate what is ob- fcure, nor to reprefentinthemoft lively colours what fhould be mod expofed to view, nor to prove a truth by a variety of engaging turns, nor to excite thepaf- fions, which are the only fprings capable of moving and perfwading the audience ; for paflion is the foul of difcourfe. this. Gentlemen, hath been the progrefs of letters for fixty years paft; which Mr. PelifTon would have defcribed, if he might have continued his hiftory of the Academy. A rainifter, ever ready to employ perfons of the moft eminent abilities, brought him out of thecourfe of his fludies into public bufmefs. then how great was his probity, and his integrity, how conftant his grati- tude towards his benefador? in that poll of truft, to which he was advanced, his whole endeavours turned H 4 8 A DISCOURSE BP:F0RE upon doing good, upon difcoverlng, and employing merit, to ftiew his virtues in their beft lights, he wan- ted nothing but to be unfortunate, he became fo, Gentlemen, his innocence and his courage appeared clearly In the prifon. the Baftile proved an agreeable folitude to him, where he applyed himfelf to the im- provement of learning. Happy captivity, defireablc chains, which were the means of reducing at lafl to the yoke of faith a mind, which before knew no reftraint! during thisleifurehe went up to the fources of tradition to fetch argu- ments, wherewith he might oppofe truth; but truth prevailed, and appeared to him in all her charms, he came out of prifon, honoured with the king's efteem and favour; but what is fiill greater, he came out, de- termined to be an humble profylcte to the Church, the fincerityand difintcreftednefs of his converfion occa- fioned his delaying to perform the ceremony of it, from the apprehenfion that his talents might draw on him the recompenfe of an employment, whichaper- fon of lefs virtue than himfelf would have follicited. From that moment he never difcontinued fpeaking, writing, and employing all the favours his credit with his prince had procured him, towards recalling his wandring brethren, happy fruit of the mod fatal er- ror! we muft have felt within ourfelves the anxious pains, which are to be undergone in this difficult paf- fage fromdarknefs to light, to be animated with that vivacity, and endued with that patience, tendernefs, and delicacy of charity, which fhine in his contro- verfies. Notwithflanding the weak condition, to which he was reduced, we fawhim at the foot of the altar, and THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 9 at the point of death, celebrating his feaft, to ufe his own expreflion, and the anniverfary of his converfi- on. alas! we heard him, excited by his zeal and his courage, promife^vith a dying voice, that he would fi- nifh his great work upon the facrament. yes, I faw him with tears in his eyes, I heard him, he faid all that a Chriftian, nourifhed for fo many years with the word of God, can fay, to prepare himfeli to receive the holy facrament. it is true, death, putting on the image.of fleep, furprifed him ; but (lie found him well prepared. In fine, Gentlemen, the affairs of juftice and reli- gion, which the king had committed to his care, did not divert him from applying himfelfto the polite fci- ences, to which he was deflined by nature, his pen was immediately pitched upon to write the hiflory of the prefent reign, with what joy fliall we behold. Gentlemen, in this hiftory, a prince, who in his early youth, finiHiesby his fteadinefs, what Henry the Great his grandfather fcarce dared to attempt? Lewis extin- guifhes the rage of duelling, whereby thcmoft noble blood of France had been fpilt. he raifes his linking authority, regulates his revenues, and introduces dif- cipline among his troops, whilfi: with one hand he le- vels with the ground the walls of fo many (Irong places, in the fight of his aftonifhed enemies, with the other he makes the polite arts and fciences flourifii by his munificence, in the peaceful bofom of France. But what do I fee. Gentlemen? a new confederacy, formed of the mod confiderable potentates of Europe, threatning to befiege this vaft kingdom, as if it were a fingle fortrefs. Lewis alone, during the fpace of five years, makes important conquefts, and gains fignal vidories over the united forces of this league, which lo A D I S C O U R S E B E F O R E had the prefnmption to boaft, that they would opprefs him with eafe, and make his provinces become the fcene of delblation. But who dares attempt to defcribe Lewis in this laft campaign, more glorious by his patience, than his conquell? he is determined to befiege the mod im- pregnable place of the low countries, encompafTed by two rivers, guarded by a citadel raifed on an inaccef- fible rock, confiding of feveral fortrelFes, tho' but one place, having one army within for garrifon, and ano- ther without, compofed of an incredible number of Englifli, Dutch, Spanifti and German forces, comman- ded by a chief, accufloraed to rifque all hazards and dangers in battle, and at a time, when nature herfelf altered her courfe, and caufed an inundation in the fummer feafon. in the mean while he receives intel- ligence, that his fleet, however invincible in courage, opprefTed by the unequal numbers of his enemies, is burnt, and he fupports this ftroke of ill fortune with as much temper, as if he had been exercifed in adver- fity. he is calm and ferene under difficulties, full of expedients under difappointments, and fo humane in lefpedt to the befieged, that he even prolongs the fiege, however dangerous, to fpare the city, which refills him, and which it is in his power to reduce to afhes. he never places his confidence in the multitude of his experienced foldiei^, in the noble ardour of his cap- tains, in his perfonal valour, which animates his whole army, or in the many victories, which he has gained, but in the inacceflible azylum of the Lord of Hofts. he returns at length vi<^orious, with his eyes dire<^ed towards the throne of the Almighty, whodifpofes of vidtory according to his divine will ; and what is THE FRENCH ACADEMY. u ftlll more glorious than all his fuccelTes, he forbids our praifes. PofTefTed of a grandeur fo humble and modeft, which is not more above all encomiums^ than it is above all events, may he, Grentlemen, rely only upon his virtue, (hew an inviolable regard to truth and juflice , be known to his enemies, (this willi comprehends the profperity of Europe) become the umpire of all na- tions, after having removed their jealoufies. may he extend his goodnefs to his people in the bleflings of a profound peace, be long the delight of mankind, and reign over them in fuch a manner, as if he had no other view, than the glory of God, who reigned over him. This, Gentlemen, is, what Mr. PelilTon would have immortalized in his hiftory. the Academy has produced more perfons capable of tranfmitting it to latepofterity; but fo vafl a fubjed invites you all to write, enter, therefore, Gentlemen, upon this glori- ous work of celebrating fo diftinguifhed a reign, I can- not give a greater teftimony of my unfeigned zeal for the honour of this Society, than by forming a wifh fo worthy of it. THE END. DIALOGUES OF TH E DEAD BY T E ARCHBISHOP o F C A M B R A Y; CONTAINING HIS DIALOGUES BETWEEN DEMOSTHENES and CICERO, HORACE AND VIRGIL. DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO. ^parallel between thefe two orators, wherein is given the cha- ra^er of true eloquence. CICERO. WHAT! deft thou pretend that I was but an or- dinary orator? DEMOSTHENES. Not an ordinary one ; for it is not over an ordinary perfon that I afFed fuperiority. thou wert doubtlefs a celebrated orator, thou hadft gr^at parts ; but didft frequently deviate from the point wherein perfe<^ion confids. 14 DEMOSTHENES CICERO. And pray hadft thou no faults at all? DEMOSTIl KNES. I believe I can be taxed with none in point of elo- quence. CICERO. Canft thou compare richnefs of genius with me? thou who art dry, unadorn'd, who art ever confined within narrow and contracted limits ; thou doft not amplify any fubjedt; thou from whom nothing can be retrenched, fo jejune,foftarvcd, if I may ufe the term,is the manner in which thou treat'ft thy fubjefts: where- as I give mine a length, which difplays a copioufnefs and fertility of genius, which gave men of judgment occafion to fay, that nothing could be added to my works. DEMOSTHENES. He from whom nothing can be retrenched, hath faid nothing but what is perfedt. CICERO. He to whom nothing can be added, hath omitted nothing that could embelliih his work. DEMOSTHENES. Thou findeft thy difcourfes more replete with flafhes of wit than mine? fpeak honeftly, is not that the reafon thou exaltcft thyfelf above roe? CICERO. I will even own it to thee then, fince thou talk'ft Co. ray pieces are infinitely more ornate than thine, they fpeak far more wit, more ingenuity of turn, more art, more eafe. I exhibit the fame thing under twenty different fhapes. when people heard my orations, they could not forbear admiring my parts^ and bting ANDCICERO. Ij continually furprifed at my art; they were ever fhout- ing and interrupting me, in order to applaud and ex- tol me. thou muft have been heard very quietly, and thy audience, I fancy, gave thee no interruption. DEMOSTHENES. What thou fayeft of us both is true, thou miftakeft only in the concluCon thou draweft from it. thou didft take up the aflTembly with thyfelf: I took it up only with the affairs I fpoke upon, people admired thee; I was forgot by my audience, who faw nothing but the courfe I wanted them to take, thou didft entertain with the flafhes of thy wit. I ftruck down with bolts of thunder, thou madeft men (ay: how finely he fpeaks! I made them fay: come on, let us march againft Philip, they praifed thee: they were too much carried out of themfelves to praife me. when thou didft ha- rangue, thou appearedft ornate ; none difcovered in me any ornament: there was nothing in my pieces but precife, ftrong, clear arguments ; and then impulfes like lightning which nothing could refift. thou wert a perfeft orator, when thou wert, like me,(imple,grave, auftcre, without apparent art ; in a word, when thou wert Demofthenical : but when wit, turn, and art flione forth in thy difcourfes ; then wert thou mere Ci- cero, departing fo fer from perfedion, as thou depar- tedft from my chara<5ler. 16 DEMOSTHENES DIALOGUE ir. DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO. The difference bet-ween the Orator and the true Philofopher. CICERO. TO have lived in the time of Plato, and even to have been his difciple, methinks you profited very little by fuch an advantage. DEMOSTHENES. Have you then obferved nothing in my orations, you who read them to fo good purpofe, that favoured of Plato's maxims, and his manner of perfwading? CICERO. That is not what I mean: you were the greateft ora- tor of the Greeks ; but then you were nothing but an orator, as for me, though I never knew Plato but in his writings, and lived about three hundred years af- ter him, 1 ftrovc to imitate him in philofophy ; I made him known to the Romans, and was the fird who in- troduced that kind of writing among them ; in fo much that I united as far as I was capable, in one and the fame perfon, eloquence and philofophy. DEMOSTHENES. And fo you think you were a great philofopher? CICERO. To be fo, it is fufficient to love wifdom, and to la- bour to acquire knowledge and virtue: I think I may give myfelf the title without exccfs ofvianity. DEMOSTHENES. For an orator, I grant, you were the firft of your nation; and even the Greeks of your time admired AND CI C ER (5. 17 you: but for a phllofophcr, I cannot grant It. one is not that at fo eafy a rate. c I c F. R o . You don't know what it cofl: me: my lucubrations, my labours, my meditations; the booics I read, the maftcrs I heard, thetreatifes I compofed. DEMOSTHENES. All that is not philofophy. CICERO. WTiatmore, pray, is requifite? DEMOSTHENES. To do what you faid of (Jatoby way of dcrifion, to ftudy philofophy, not in order to difcover the truths it teaches, to argue about it as moft men do; but in order to reduce it to pradice. CICERO. And did not I do fo? did not I live up to the doc- trine of Plato and Ariftotle, which I had embraced? DEMOSTHENES. Drop we Ariftotle: I might perhaps difpute him the qualityof a philofopher, nor can I have any great o- plnion of a Greek, who was attached to a king, and that to Philip: as for Plato, I maintain that you never followed his maxims. CICERO. 'Tis true that in my yoi:th, and during the greateft part of my time, I followed the adtive and laborious life of thofe whom Plato calls Politicians, but when I faw my country had changed its afpe(5t, and that I could no longer be of ufe to her in high employments, I fought to ferve her by the fciences, and retired to mycountry- feats, in order to apply myfclf to contem- plation, and the ftudy of truth. S IS DEMOSTHENES DEMOSTHENES. That is to fay,philofophy was your laft refort,when you had no longer any fhare in the adminiftration, and that then you had a mind to diftinguifh yourfelf by your (ludies: for it was glory' more than virtue that you purfued in them. CICERO. 'Tis needlefs to lie, I ever loved glory, as an at- tendant of virtue. DEMOSTHENES. Say rather, you loved glory much, and virtue little. CICERO. Upon what grounds do you judge fo hardly of me? DEMOSTHENES. Upon your own difcourfes: at the very time you played the philofopher, did you not pronounce thole fine orations, wherein you flattered Caefar your ty- rant, more fervilely, than ever was Philip by his flaves? yet we know how you loved him; it well appeared af- ter his death, and in his life-time you did not fpare him in your letters to Atticus. CICERO. It was expedient to conform one*s felf to the times, and to endeavour to footh the tyrant, left he Ihould grow ftill worfe. DEMOSTHENES. You talk like a good orator, though like a bad phi- lofopher: but what became of your philofophy after his death? who obliged you to enter again into public affairs? CICERO. The Roman people, who looked upon me as their folefupport. ANDCICERO. 19 DEMOSTHENES. Your vanity prompted you to think foy and delive- red you up to a young man, who made a tool of you. but let us return to the point: you were always an o- rator, neveraphilofopher. CICERO. And were you ever any thing elfe? DEMOSTHENES. No, I confefs ; but then I never made any other profeflion, I deceived no body: I came early tounder- ftand that I muft: choofe between rhetoric and phllo- fophy ; that each required a whole man. the defireof glory touched me: I thought it a fine thing for me who was but a private citizen, and a common tradef- man*s fon, to govern the people by my eloquence, and make a ftand againft the power of Philip. I lov- ed the public- weal, and the hberty of Greece; but I may now confefs I loved myfelf ftill better, and was very fenlible of the pleafure of receiving a crown in full theatre, and of leaving my ftatue in the public Place, with a pompous infcription upon it. now I fee things in another light, and perceive that Socrates was in the right, when he alTured Gorgias, * that elo- * quence was no fuch fine thing as he imagined ; were * it even to attain its end, and render a man abfolute * mafter in his commonwealth.' this both you and I attained: confefs now, we were nothing the happier. CICERO. 'Tis true our lives were two continued fcenes of toils and dangers. I had no fooner defended Rofcius, than I was fain to fly into Greece, to avoid the indig- nationofSylla. the accufationofVerres drew a world of enemies upon me; my confulfhip, the time of my S 2 io DEMOSTHENES greatcH: glory, was alfo the time of my greateft toils, and of my greaieft dangers. I was frequently in ha- zard of my life, and the odium I then incurred broke out afterwards by my exile, in fine, it was nothing but my eloquence that occafioned my death, and had I not puflied Antony fo hard, I had been ftill in life. I fay nothing of your misfortunes ; it were needlefs to recalthem to your mind, but neither of us have any- thing to blame but fate, or fortune, if you will, which made it our lot to be born in fo corrupt times, that it was impoffible to reform our commonwealths, or even to prevent their ruin. DEMOSTHENES. It was therein we wanted judgment, undertaking •impoffibilities: for it was not our people that forced us to take care of the public affairs, and we were not at all engaged in them by our birth. I forgive a prince born in the purple for governing, as he can, a ftate, which the gods have committed to his charge, bycauf- inghim to be born of a certain race, feeing he is not at freedom to abandon that truft, how bad foever he find his fituation : but a mere private perfon ought to think of nothing but regulating himfelf and gover- ning his own family ; he ought never to defire public offices, far lefs to court them: if they beforcedupon him, he may accept them out of love to his country; but when once he has not the liberty of doing good, and his citizens grow regardlefs both of the laws and ofreafon, he ought to return into private life, and con- tent himfelf with deploring the public calamities which he finds himfelf unable to avert. CICERO. By your way of reckoning, my friend Pomponius ANDCICERO. 21 Atticuswas wifer than I, and even than Catohimfelf* whom we fo highly extolled. DEMOSTHENES. Yes doubtlefs, Atticus was a true philofopjier: Ca- to was unfeafonably obflinate In pretending to reform a people who would live no longer in liberty, and you yielded too eafily to Cefars fortune ; at lead, you did not enough preferve your dignity. CICERO. But after all, is not eloquence a good thing, nay a great gift of the Gods? DEMOSTHENES. It is very good in itfelf: 'tis only the ufe of it that may be bad, as when it is employed towards tickling the pa/fions ofthe people, or the gratifying of our own. and whatelfe did we in our virulent declamations a- gainft our enemies? I againil Midias or Efchines, you againftPifo, Vatinius or Antony? howegregiouflydid our pafTionsand interefts make us offend againft truth and juflicel the true ufe of eloquence is to fet truth in its proper light, and to perfwade others to their true intereft, that is, to juftice, and the other virtues, it was the ufe that Plato made of it, that neither of us imitated. ( 22 ) DIALOGUE BETWEEN VIRGIL AND HORACE. The chambers of thofe two Poets. VIRGIL. WHat peaceful happinefs do we enjoy on thefe ftill flowery lawns, faft by the fide of this cool, limpid, foftly gliding dream, and by the fragrant wood fo near refreftied! HORACE. If you don't take care, you'll make an eclogue : a work to (hades denied, fee Homer, Hefiod, and Theocritus; with laurel crowned they hear their ver- fes fung, but make no more. VIRGIL. I learn with joy that your's hold the delight, after fo many ages, of the learned, you cheated not youf- felf, when, in your odes, you faid afTured, *' I (hall " not wholly die." HORACE. My works, 'tis true, have ftood the (hock of time: but one mud lofe you as much as I do, not to be jea- lous of your glory, for you in rank are next to Ho- mer placed. VIRGIL. Our mufcs ought by no means to be jealous of each other, their kinds ar-e different, -what in you is admirable is variety: your odes are tender and beautiful, often vehement, rapid, fublime. your fa- tyrs are fimple, natural, concifc, and poinant. one AND HORACE. 2j there finds a profound knowledge of man, a moft fe- rious philofophy with a pleafant turn, which reforms mens manners, and inftruds while it entertains them, your Art of Poetry (hews, that you had the whole compafs of acquired parts, and all the ftrength of ge- nius necelTary to execute the greateft works, whether epic poem or tragedy. HORACE. 'Tis a good jeft to hear you talk of variety, you who have given your Eclogues the native tendernefs of Theocritus: your Georgics are full of the moft fmiling pi(5lures: you embellifii and humour all na- ture : and then for your Eneid, the beautiful order, the magnificence, the ftrength, and fublimity of Ho- mer ftiinc throughout the whole. VIRGIL. But I did no more than follow him ftep by ftep. HORACE. You did by no means follow Homer, when you treated the loves of Dido, that fourth book is quite an original, fo likewife none can rob you of the praife of having made Eneas's defcent into hell more beautiful than the evocation of fpirits in the Odyf- fey. VIRGIL. My laft books were negle(5led. I did not intend to have left them fo miperfe(5t. you know I wanted to burn them. HORACE. "What pity it had been! that was an excefs of de- licacy, any one may fee, that the author of the Geor- gics could have finifhed the Eneid with the fame care. I do not fo much mind that extreme exaftnefs, as 24 VIRGIL the elevation of genius, theoeconomy of the whole work, the Itrength and boldnefs of the painting, to deal ingenuoiifly,if any thing hinders you from equal- ling Homer, it is your being more polifhed, more cor- redt, morefinifhed; but Icfs fimple, lefs ftrong, lefs fablimc. for with a fingle touch he fets nature unveil- ed before our eyes. VIRGIL. I own I did fome violence to fimple nature, in or- der to adapt myfelf to the tafte of a magnificent people, delicate in every thing relating to polilenefs. Homer fcems to forget the reader and to mind nothing but the painting of real nature in every circumftance. in this I yield to him. HORACE. You are ftill that modeft Virgil, who was fo back- ward to pufti himfelf at the court of Auguftus. now I have told you freely what I thought of your works, tell me in the fame manner the faults of mine, fure you do not think me incapable of acknowledging them. VIRGIL. There are, methinks, fome paiTages of your odes which might have been retrenched without taking ought from the fubjed, and which make no part of the defign. 1 amnot ignorant of the tranfport effential to the ode. but there are fome things a little foreign, in- to which a beautiful tranfport never ftrays. there are alfo fome paflionate, marvelous pafTages, where you will perhaps obferve fomewhat wanting, either in point ofharniony,or the fimplicity of the padion. never did man give a happier turn to fpeech, to make it exprcfs a fine fentiment with concifenefs and delicacy. AN D H OR A C E. 2j the wards become new by the ufe you make of them, but all is not equally flowing ; there are fome things I fhould think turned with rather too much art, HORACE. As for harmony, I do not wonder that you arefo difficult, for nothing is fo fmooth and harmonious as your numbers, their cadence alone is fo moving, that it draws tears from the eyes. VIRGIL. The ode requires a quite different harmony, which you have almoit always hit on, and which is more va- ried than mine. HORACE, After all, I produced nothing but petty performan- ces. I blamed what is wrong, and pointed out the rules of the right, but I executed no great work like your heroic poem, VIRGIL, Indeed my Horace, we have dwelt too long forho- nefl: men, upon each other's praife. I grow aihamed of it. let us ceafe the theme. THE END, INDEX O F PRINCIPAL MATTERS. A. ACAD E Mr {French) its rife and nature, Page iss, is6 an Englifli one propofed 160,164 ABiotij of what ufe in fpeaking dj, — 68, 70, 71 it ought to be eafy and natural 68,69 6p,7o See hands , eyes, voice. Addrefs of an orator, what kind moft proper 7S Ambrose's ftile 141 AntientSy their excellence 114,"^ their way of expreffing the paffions 70, 201, &c. 199,249—254 242, 243, 244 Antithefes, forc'd ones childifh 97 i when proper 96 Apoftles unacquainted with the true Greek 104, loy «• their manner of preaching 211,212,213 ~ their irregular ftile whence 121 Aristophanes' low humour cenfured 222 Aristotle's rhetoric, its charafter 10 Art ought to be concealed 7^> 1^3 — - and to refemble nature 7Sy76 Arts, which proper to be cultivated in a wife government ij, 17 Augustus' chara£ler from Sukton 2 ip, 220, 22 i Austin's ftile 138, 139 • his charafter 139, 140, 141, 185 his notions of eloquence I40, 167, 168 his perfuafive art 1 8 j, 186 Author ought to labour for his reader's cafe 194 and diftruft the praifes given him 239 ' qualifications of a good author, 196, 197 Sec Preacher : Hijicrian : Peet» INDEX. B. Basil's charafler and ftile Page 144, 145- Beautiful in poetry what really fo ipp^ 200 Beauties of eloquence, which Iblid, 61, 62 the falle kind, 2, 3, 4, (5i, 62, 93, 94, j,^, p6 See ornametUi : ivitty conceits, Bernard's ftile 187 Brutus' eloquence in a letter to Tully 174, 17 j^ 1 75 C. Catechizing, generally defeSive 13 j Caesar's commentaries their firoplicity commended by Ci- cero 230 Chrysostom's charaftcr and flile 143, is j Cicero's eloquence ja, 53, 3:4 compared with Demosthenes 182 Clergymen are to fet a good example 32, 33 ' how to employ their time j^. Compofing much, neceflary to an orator 79, 80 Connexion, fometimes to be neglefted 6^ Converfatinn, what fort iifeful «>, ^p Corneille's Oedipus, its faults 211 Corruption of the antient philofphy and eloquence 37, 38, 1 42, 184, i8j Cyprian's rhetoric 137, 138, 141 D. Davila's hiftory, its charafter sjy jDfci E. Eloquence, its dcfign and ufc 13,— IJ, Ji, 108, 109, 173, 174, a difficult art ^2 conGftent with the fimplicity of the gofpel 108 the falfe kind to be rejeded 38, 108 the true fort bcft learn'd from eloquent authors i85 Elocution, what 7t little underftood, or praftifed 72 Sec j4Bton: Voice, j^eneid, its defign and moral -, 46 intolerable to people of fenfe 46, 47 Hearers^ how to be gained 7,- their ignorance generally great 103 .^ their capacity Ihould be confulted 83 Sec Sermons : ImpreJ/ions : Difcourfe, Herodotus, a charafter of his hi ftory 234 Jitftory (facred) ufeful in fermons 92, 103 . a treatife on hiftory wanted 226 rules for compofing it 226 — 23? Htfloriany the qualifications of a good one 226, 228, 229, 230, 231, 232 ■ a charafter of the anticnt hiftorians ^34, 235- Homz^ preaching cenfured 123, 124 Homer's charafter 62, 63, 242, 247 « his art in dcfcribing things 99 the charafter of his heroes 249, 2 jo • his excellence 2;'4, 2S^y 2j6 HamiUes in the antient way, the beft method of inftruftion 133, 134 Horace his artful moving defcriptions 206, 207 his charafter of a good poem 208 his defers 243 T. Jeremiah's lamentations inimitably tender 117 Jerom's flile 141 . — his advice to Nepotian about preaching 152 JBady its dcfign and moral 26, 27 Jmprejfton on hearers how beft made 2, 74, 7J, 82, 83 JttfiruB'tony proper for common people 102,103 how to be given 83, 122, 123, 124, I2j, 130, 131, 132, 133 the right method neglefted 1 30 See Hearer i : Preachers : Scripture, Isaiah very lofty and fublime 1 1^ INDEX. IsocRATEs* ftile Page % lo, 182 . his vain delicacy and falfe wit, 95:, 96 . his low notions of eloquence 3> K. Knowledge, what fort necefTary to an orator 40, 41, 42 chiefly wanting in public fpeakers 41, 42 of antient poetry and eloquence very ufeful to the clergy 127 L. Language how to be improved 1J9, 160 Livy's harangues in his hiftory not genuine 234 LoNGiNus' charafter if, X2 M. Marks of an eloquent difcourfe 48 Memory y how far ncceflary to an orator, 8 j . not to be burden'd with every word 82, 8 f — beft helped by the natural order of things 91 Method ; fee Order. Mind and body how to be improved, 16, $5 Moderns compared with antients 236 — 2^4 ought not to defpifc, but imitate them 238, 239 Moliere's comedies, remarks on them 224, 225", 226 Monotony a common fault, and Ihocking 69, 72, 7} Moses* fong very fublime iif Movements in eloquence what 64, 6s^ 66y 67, 68 Moving the paffions, one chief end of oratory 48 Mtt/Jc, how ufed by the antients 17, 18, 19,20, 177, 178 Myftical interpretations of fcripturc, whence 147, 148 ufed frequently by the fathers 147, 148 and by many moderns injudicioufly 148 N. Nahum*s prophecy, lofty and poetical 118, 119 Nature to be followed in defcriptions 98, 99, 198, 199 Nazianzen [Gregorfs) ftile 144 Negligence, the appearance of it ufeful, J4, 80 O. Odyjfey its dcfign and moral 27 <}ratQr nurht tio W difnitrrrftrd 28, 29, 30 — - — inflexibly virtuous 29, 30, 184 INDEX. Orator ought to be above want pag^ ^t his other qualifications 44, 178, 179, 180 he muft be moved himfclf 7 j, j6, 83 Order, without divifions beft 87, 88 general one to be ftriftly obferved Sp, 90, 91, 92, 95 Ornaments of difcourfe, which true 54, jf, 61, 62, 179, 195 . falie ones 92, 93, 93-, 95 — : fuperfluous ones to be retrerch'd 195 Origen and inftitution of things to be explained in fermons »o3, 104, 132, 133. P. Painting in oratory, what 55", 56, 5-7, 95, 99 Panegyric, the defign and rules of it 25', 26, ifo, iji . general and exccflive praifes to be avoided, 98 P(2rocHa/ clergy, why fitteft to preach 124,125-, 126,133 PaftoTj the charafter of a compleat one 37, 124, i2j, 129, 130 S. Paul did not difclaira all kind of eloquence 10 j— 1 1 4 PerfeRion in compofurcs, the idea of it neceilary to an au- thor 239, 240 Periods chiming, to be avoided 93 Perfpinnty, the firft thing to be confidered in a difcourfe 194 Perfmfion, the chief end of eloquence 13, jo, 51, 5-2, 78 the proper way of it beft Icarn'd from fcripture 124, 125- Phihfopbj neceflary to an orator 40, 41, 42, 43 Plato's charafter 1 3 his notions of eloquence 34, 35" Puny, the younger, cenfured 26, 244 Pcety a true one's charafter 188 Poetry a-kin to eloquence j8, S9 • an imitation of nature 199 bow ufed by the antients 17, 18, 186, 187 neceflary to compleat an orator 59, 60, 61 a treatife upon it wanted 1 85 . its excellence 186, 187 PoUtcnefs in language, a falfe kind of it 98 PreacberSf their qualifications 8j, 86, 102, 103, 113, 114, 177 184 • vain-glorious ones cenfured 119, 122, 123, 124, 131, 166, 167 • oftimes not inftruftive 73, 74, 126 • they ought to fet a good example 32, 33, 177 INDEX. Preachers, two good forts of preachers Pa^e 148, 149 See Pajlors. Preaching in the antient way of homily moft ufeful 133, 134> 135" — — — formerly confin'd to bilhops 125' , preaching by heart, vford for word, not a right way 77> 78, 83, 84 See InftruB'ion : Perfmficn : Dlfcourfe. Preparation for fpeaking in public 4J, 48, 178 -for preaching without notes 78, 79, 80, 81 advantages of this way of preaching 82, 83 — preparing every word, inconveniences of it, 83, 84 -not ufed by the antients 84 Prefence of mind neceflary to an orator 79> 85" Pronunciation. See Elocution. Proofs of religion, which the beft 1 3 2 R. Racine's Phaedra^ its faults 211, 213 the tragedy he dcfign^d according to the ancient mo- del, commended 216 Reading of fermons N. 8jr, Z6 of prayers 134 Recapitulation proper 90 Repetitions ohen ufeful in fermons 80, 81, 83 Rhetoricians unprofitable 22, 23, 24, 39 felfiHi and mercenary 24, 29, 31, 32, 37 ■ antient ones, their folly 34, 35-, 37, 38 Rhetoric, why moft cultivated by the antients 164 16s their oratory at the bar 172, 173 the modern rhetoric of the bar 166 Rhime hinders the improvement of poetry 189 tirefome to the ear ib. more difficult than all the antient rules of poetry 191 Romans (antient) their charafter 172, 219, 220, 221 their eloquence 172 Rules of Rhetoric, too many, dry, and ufclefs ones 10, 1 1, 40 S. Sallust's hiftory, its charafter 234 Scripture, its eloquence 104, 114, 1I9, 122, i85, 187 — fhould be imitated by preachers 121, 124, 127 " an inexhauftiblc fource of noble thoughts 148 T INDEX. Scripture excells all other books in fublimity, grandeur, and natural rcprefcntations Page 99, 114, 11^ a cnarafter ofitsfeveral parts iij — 119, 186, 187 its connexion wonderful 122 it fhoiild be fully explained in a connefted plan of inftruftion 102, 103, 122, 123, 124, 132, 133, 134 and fliould be interpreted literally 147, 148 Sermons, how compofed generally Sj, 86, 87, 123 they /liould not be long 134 but always adapted to the hearers 83 . from ill men, how heard 32, 33 See Preaching: Reading. Silence, fometimes moll exprefllve 68 Simplicity of the antients 62, 63, 120, 197, 200, 20!, 208 < of fcripture, greater 99, US, 117, 118, 119 of thcanticnt poets 197, 198, 199, 200 of Caesar's flile 230,231 of Terence's 222,223,224 Socrates his notions of rhetoric, and of its profeflbrs 34 — 43 SoPHocLf s, the defign of his tragedies 22 his Oedipus quoted 214, 21 j Stile, pompous and fwelling, a common fault 9S it ought to be various loo adapted to the fubjeft loi -^ — clear 195' -■ — - and concife 162 See Difcourfe : Ornaments. Sublime, explained and exemplified by Longinus 12 • charafter of the true fublime ?96 See Scripture : Antients. T. Tacitus' hiftory, remarks on it 234, 235" Tajle of elcx^uencc how to be formed 93 ' not yet cl^ablifhed I4S a preacher's to be fixed before he reads the fathers ih. • talles of different nations various i6j: Gothic tafte ^7 • — antienr rafle v/hen corrupted 142, 185" Tereni e's charailcr 222, 223, 224 TERTULLiAN'sftile very faulty 136, 137 Text, its firft rife 146 ^ it (liQuld be well explain'd 4 — ■ — not be forced 146 INDEX. Text, fiiOuU not be quaint P^S^h <5. Thucyd ides' hiftory. its charafter 234 Tragedies of the anticnts excited always terror or pity 21, 22 they had no fcenesof love 210 French tragedy why imperfeft ib» Tragic poets their faults 211— 213 Trajak's charafter 22 c Tranjition fometimes to be neglefted 80 W. Wifdom and pleafure were joined by the antients 19, 20 Witty conceits to be avoided 6, 96, 14(5 how diftinguifhed from folid fenfe 5^4, jj, ^s U. l7«/(y of parts neceflary in all compofures 180, 181 87, 88 of parts neceflary in all compofures ■ wanting in divided fermons V. Vehemence neceflary in an orator C% 70, 180 • when unfeafonable ^8, 69 Verfification diftinft from poetry jp^ 60 Virgil's charader j6— ;8, 62, 99, 239 fufpefted of flattery 28 his artful, moving defcriptions 201, 20J his imitation of Homer 244 Virtue efTential to an orator 29, 30 Voice to be varied 71 7^^ yj ftould be agreeable to nature 75- — - and adapted to the fubjeft 73 Finis. I 1 DATE DUE i ^^m-M ™i9^ ^mmi^ Hmmw^ I'r- - i-"ii^iik •«« sw^ ■ P«Wp» KMiiMMi^ vir_'^^H^^^ ^_ •-«««««*^ - ■-«W'8.fa flQQ GAYLORD PRINTEDINU.S.A. ^<^Xi