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Course of Lectures 
 
 -UMBERLAND, 
 
 ELOCUTION. ^ 
 
 BY THOMAS 'SHERIDAN, A. M. 
 
 SECOND AMERICAN EDITION. 
 
 TROY: 
 
 PRINTED BY OBADIAH FENNIMAN & CO. 
 
 bold by them, at their Store, River-Street ; by C. R. Iff G, 
 Webster, and Whiting, Leavenworth Iff Whiting, 
 
 Albany; THOMAS Iff ANDREWS, Wl ST ^ GREENLEAF, 
 
 J. West, W. P. & L. Blake, C. Bingham, and 
 
 Manning izf Loring, Bofon ,- P. Evrne, 
 
 Philadelphia ; and Th o m a s , And r e w g 
 
 & Butler, Baltimore. 
 
 IS0 3 . 
 
TO THB 
 
 RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND, 
 
 THE FOLLOWING 
 
 COURSE OF LECTURES, 
 AM MOSt BtJMBLT INSCRiMMD^ 
 
 By his Lordship's 
 
 moft obliged, moil devoted^ 
 and moft humble fervant, 
 
 THOMAS SHERIDAN. 
 
TO THE PUBLIC. TN+V>* 
 
 THE encouragement at this day given to lit era- 
 hire, by the government, as well as the diflinguified 
 characters of our country, mujl afford fatisfaclion to eve- 
 ry reflecting mind ; as evidences of its growth, under 
 fitch patronage, are prefenting themfclves on every fide 
 to our view. Abroad, the literary character of our 
 country is riftng to dignity and eminence j at home, the 
 greateft exertions are making to promote its progrefs ; 
 and, by the application and enterprife of individuals, we 
 may now, as a nation, be faid to be approaching excellence 
 and perfection. The means of education are daily be- 
 coming more general; and the fpirit of induflry and econ- 
 omy which prevails among all clajfes of men, furn'ifljes 
 the brighte/l profpetls of the future profperity and weU^ 
 fare of our country. 
 
 Encouraged by filch profpetls, and the much efeemed 
 advice of the. Rev. Dr. M.AXCY, Prefdent of U, 
 College, we have republi/hed the following Lectures 
 Elocution., It is the duty of our prof effion when prefent- 
 ing. a ufeful book to the public, to prefent it neatly and 
 currently printed, and on good paper; how rigidly we 
 have complied with this duty as pointed out by ourfelves, 
 the public miifl judge. Our endeavours, however, have 
 net been wanting, to render the execution of it worthy of 
 pat'i&nagei The public' j very humble fervants, 
 
 OBADIAH PENNIMAN b 9 COj 
 
 Troy, March I., 1803. 
 
 mon 
 on 
 
INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE, 
 
 X HERE has been no maxim more fre- 
 quently inculcated, or more generally afTented to, 
 than that human nature, ought to be the chief ftu- 
 dy of humankind ; and yet it is of all fubjects, 
 about which the bufy mind of man has been em- 
 ployed, that which has been leaft attended to ; or 
 with regard to which, the feweft difcoveries have 
 been made, founded upon any certain knowledge. 
 
 Is it not amazing to reflect, that from the crea- 
 tion of the world, there was no part of the human 
 mind clearly delineated, till within the laft fixty 
 years ? when Mr. Locke arofe, to give us a juft 
 view of one part of our internal frame, the under- 
 standing, upon principles of philofophy, founded 
 on reafon and experience. 
 
 The chief caufe of the very erroneous, or inac- 
 curate views, given of that part of our nature, be- 
 fore his time, was, as he himfelf confeffes, acci- 
 dentally difcovered by Mr. Locke, long after he 
 had begun his work ; and not till after he had 
 found himfelf entangled in many perplexities, dur- 
 a 2 ing 
 
vi INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE, 
 
 ing the purfuit of his fubject *, when lighting acci- 
 dentally upon this clue, he was happily guided 
 through all the mazes of that labyrinth, in which 
 fo many had fruitlefsly wandered, or. been loft be- 
 fore,, 
 
 His difcovery was, that as we cannot think up- 
 on any abftracl: fubject, without the ufe of abftract 
 terms ; and, as in general we lubftitute the terms 
 themfelves, in thinking, as well as fpeaking, in the 
 room of the complex ideas for which they frand ; 
 it is impcfhble we can think with preciiion, till we- 
 nrft examine whether we have precife ideas annex- 
 ed to luch terms j and it is equally impoliibie to 
 communicate our thoughts to others with exadtnefs, 
 unlefs we are firft agreed in the exact meaning of 
 our words. 
 
 Accordingly, this acute philoibpher, entered 
 into a fcrupulous examination of all the terms he 
 ufed, for his own purpefe, in private meditation - 9 
 and afterwards gave clear definitions of thofe. terms, 
 for the benefit of others, in communicating to them 
 his thoughts. His labours were attended with fuc- 
 cefs. It muft' be evident, to all who examine his 
 works with care, that he has treated his fubjecl 
 with the ut-moft preciiion and perfpicuity ; and that 
 all who are properly qualified to read his eflay, will, 
 with due attention, agree in comprehending his 
 meaning exactly in the fame way. 
 
 But in this age of fpeculative philofophy, they 
 who turn their thoughts to writings of that fort, 
 feem to have no other object in view than that of 
 merely acquiring knowledge ; without once coniid- 
 
 erins 
 
 
INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE. vir 
 
 ering how that knowledge may be rendered ufeful 
 to foeiety. From the maftery of one fpeculative 
 point, they run to another, with the fame kind of a- 
 vidity, that mifers purfue the accumulation of wealth; 
 and much to the fame end : the one, rejoicing in 
 his hoard of concealed knowledge •, the other, in 
 his heaps of hidden gold ; though both are equally 
 ufelefs to themfelves, and to the world. . 
 
 Even Mr. Locke himfelf feemsto have been fa 
 totally abforbed in purfuits of that fort, that he has 
 not in any part of his works pointed out to us, how 
 his difcoveries might turn out to the benefit of man- 
 kind, by any practical plan to try their effects : and 
 accordingly, little or no advantage has hitherto re- 
 fulted from them, excepting the fatisfadtion . they 
 have given to men of a fpeculative turn. 
 
 After having ihewn that moft errors in thinking, 
 arofe from an abufe of words; and that moft con- 
 troverfies and difputes, which have been carried on 
 without coming to any conclufton, were owing to 
 the want of clear and precife ideas being affixed to 
 the terms ufed by the difputants ; the only remedy 
 Mr. Locke fuggefts, is, that . men fhould carefully 
 examine the meaning of each word, and ufe it ftea~ 
 dily in one fenfe : and that upon any difference of 
 opinion, the parties fhould define fuch terms as are 
 capable of ambiguity", or are- of moft importance in 
 the argument. 
 
 But he might have judged from the great diffi- 
 culty which he himfelf found in accomplishing this 
 point, and from his own experience of the great 
 care and pains it coft, to feparate ideas from words 
 
 to 
 
vlii INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE. 
 
 to which they were early aflbciated, and cemented 
 by long ufe ; that this was a talk not likely to be 
 performed by many. One would imagine, that a 
 philofopher, before he prefcribed a cure, would 
 have traced the diforder to its fource. Nor had he 
 far to feek for the fource of our impropriety in the 
 ufe of words, when he mould reflect that the ftudy 
 of our own language, has never been made part of 
 the education of our youth. Confequently, the ufe 
 of words is got wholly by chance, according to the 
 company that we keep, or the books that we read. 
 And if neither the companions with whom we »con- 
 verfe, nor the authors whom we confult, are exact 
 in the ufe of their words, I cannot fee how it is to 
 be expected that we fhould arrive at any precifion 
 in that refpect. 
 
 If then irregularity and diforder, in this cafe, as 
 in all others, muft neceffarily follow from neglect, 
 and leaving things to chance \ regularity and order, 
 as in all other cafes, can proceed only from care 
 and method. The way to have clear and precife 
 ideas affixed to the ufe of words would be to have 
 mankind taught from their early days, by proper 
 mailers, the precife meaning of all the words they 
 ufe. 
 
 The riling generation, fo inftructed, would be 
 uniform in the ufe of words, and would be able to 
 communicate their ideas to each other, with eafe 
 and perfpicuity. Nor would their understandings 
 be clouded in private meditation, by the mifts of 
 obfcurity ; nor their fentiments when delivered in 
 conversation, perplexed by the entanglements of 
 
 verbal 
 
 
INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE. is 
 
 verbal difputation. And this might eafily be effect- 
 ed, if only a fourth part of that time were dedicat- 
 ed to the iludy of our own tongue, which is now 
 wafted in acquiring a- {mattering in two dead lan- 
 guages, without proving either of ufe or ornament 
 to one in a hundred fo inilructed. 
 
 It is true, Mr. Locke, in his EfTay on Education, 
 grievoufly complains of our neglect of iludying our 
 mother tongue. But he lays the fault at the wrong 
 door, when he imputes this neglect to the mailers 
 of grammar fchools, and tutors at the univeriities^ 
 This is no part of their province. They neither 
 profefs to teach it, nor do they know how. No- 
 thing effectual can be done, without making that a 
 diftinct branch of education, and encouraging pro- 
 per matters to follow it as their fole employment, 
 in the fame way as the fe vera! mailers in the other- 
 branches do. And certainly whether we coniider 
 the difficulty of the thing, or the great ends which 
 might be anfwered by it, the mailers in that branch, 
 ought to meet with as great encouragement, as- 
 thofe in any other. 
 
 To the want of an inilitution of this fort is it 
 owing, that Locke's noble Eifay on the Human 
 Underftanding, has hitherto proved of fo little 
 benefit to the world. It has indeed afrbrded fuclx. 
 a gratification to men of a fpeculative turn, as 
 mathematical iludies do to thofe, whofe enjoyment 
 is bounded by the mere contemplation of truth. 
 But do men think, or reafon more clearly, than 
 they did before the publication of that book ?' 
 Have we a more precife ufe of language, or are 
 
 the 
 
x INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE. 
 
 the number of verbal difputes leflened ? Let thofe 
 who have examined the many controversial writ- 
 ings imce published, fay,, whether the chief caufe 
 of thefe endlefs difputes be not ftill the fame, " an 
 " abufe of words." 
 
 Upon the clofeft examination, indeed, it would 
 appear, that little or no benefit in point of prac- 
 tice, has refulted from a difplay in theory, of the 
 only part of the human mind, which has hitherto 
 been laid open with accuracy, upon principles of 
 true philofcphy. 
 
 But ftill there are two other parts of the hu- 
 man mind, with regard to which the world is at 
 this day, as much in the dark, as they were with 
 refpecc to the whole, previous to the publication of 
 Mr. Locke's EiTay : the one, the feat of the paf- 
 lions ; for which we have no name as exifting in 
 the mind, unphilofophically referring it to the or- 
 gan of fenfation, the heart : the other, the feat of 
 the fancy ; which is called the imagination. 
 
 Upon a right regulation of thefe parts of the 
 mind, and the faculties belonging to them, all that 
 is noble and praife worthy, all that is elegant and 
 delightful, in man, considered as a focial being, 
 chiefly depends. Yet {o far are we from having 
 any juft view prefented to us of thofe important 
 parts of our internal frame ; or any well founded 
 knowledge of the principles by which the faculties 
 belonging to them ought to be regulated ; that 
 every day we fee fome new hypothefis advanced 
 upon that fubjecl:, deiigned to overturn all that 
 
 went 
 
INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE. xi 
 
 went before, and laying in the fame claim, which 
 all that preceded it had done, that of being the on- 
 ly right one. 
 
 The variety of treatifes which have* lately been 
 publifhed on the paffions, and the number of ef- 
 fays on tafte ; in which the writers widely differ 
 from each other in their principles, and are far 
 from agreeing in their definitions or defcriptions of 
 them ', fufficiently mew, how far we are ftill, from 
 having any certain knowledge of that part of our 
 nature to which thefe belong. And in this ftate 
 muft the world forever continue, whilft the vanity 
 of ingenious men fhall prompt them to think, that 
 they can do that by writing, which is beyond the 
 power of writing to accomplish ; and whilft readers 
 fhall continue to fearch for that in books, which it 
 Is beyond the power of books to teach. Nor are 
 the writers of fuch treatifes employed about a work 
 lefs abfurd, than would be that of endeavouring to 
 communicate new iimple ideas by definitions 5 or 
 that of attempting to paint founds. 
 
 All writers feem to be under the influence of one 
 
 common delufion, that by the help ofword3 alone, 
 
 they can communicate all that paffes in their minds. 
 They forget that the paffions and the fancy have 
 a language of their <*wn, utterly independent of 
 words, by which only their exertions can be mani- 
 fefted and communicated. Now if this language be 
 wholly neglected by us ; if we have taken no care 
 to regulate its marks, or fettle the ufe of them with 
 any precifion *, it will follow that the difficulty will 
 at leafl be as great, to treat with accuracy of thofe 
 
 parts 
 
srii INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE. 
 
 parts of the mind to which that language belongs 
 as it was of the understanding, previous to the pro- 
 per adjuftment of words. But when added to this, 
 it is considered that this language is in a very poor 
 and defective flate amongft us, and that out of the 
 numberlefs emotions whereof the human mind is 
 capable, there are but a few that have any peculiar 
 marks belonging to them as their Symbols ; it will 
 be found that the difficulty of treating juftly of the 
 poflions and fancy, rauft be much greater, than of 
 the undemanding ; whofe language was Sufficiently 
 copious, and wanted only regulation ; whereas in 
 the other cafe, we muft wait for the gradual increafe 
 of the language itfelf, till its deficiencies are Sup- 
 plied, before we can attempt to regulate it proper- 
 ly, in order to have a comprehensive and juft view 
 of the powers of «the mind. And indeed till that 
 be done, thofe nations that have no names for num- 
 ber beyond three, might as well pretend to difplay 
 all the wonders of arithmetic, 2s we to delineate the 
 immenfe field of mental emotions, without a Suffi- 
 cient number of marks to Stand as their Symbols. 
 But I will not anticipate upon this head, what the 
 reader will find fully explained in the courfe of 
 tliefe lectures. 
 
 • It will be allowed 'by all perfens of reflection, 
 that there is no Speculative ^oint more ardently to 
 be wiShed for, than to have it in our power to con- 
 template thofe parts of the human mind, which are 
 Still concealed from us, or falfely viewed through 
 the miSts of error, with the fame clear fatisfaction 
 that we find in examining Mr. Locke's view of the 
 •understanding. But at the fame time if the means 
 
 were 
 
 
INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE. xiS 
 
 were pointed out, of rendering both tliefe views 
 practicably ufeful, by fhewing how a general fpirit 
 of good fenfe, and elearnefs of reafon, might be 
 propagated through the natives of this country ; by 
 ihewing how the paffions hurtful or dangerous to 
 fociety may be fuppreffed, and thofe of the nobler 
 and focial kind, calculated to promote the general 
 good, may be brought forward, invigorated, and 
 carried into due exertion •, by ihewing how the 
 powers of the imagination may be fo regulated as 
 to diffufe a general good tafte through the nation ; 
 a point efTentially neceffary to promote fome of 
 the nobleft ends that can be anfwered by the two 
 other powers, thofe I mean of a refined undemand- 
 ing, and delicate feniibility : it muft be allowed 
 that the execution of fuch a plan, would tend 
 more to the real benefit of this realm, than all the 
 uninfpired books that have been written from the 
 creation of the world to this hour. 
 
 But it will be faid, how, or from whom is this 
 to be expected ? Are not thefe the very points about 
 which the moft eminent of Our writers have em- 
 ployed their labours, hitherto to little purpofe ? 
 Have not thefe been the chief objects in the works 
 of our moft celebrated divines, moralifl:S| metaphy- 
 iicians, critics, writers of efTays, &c. and have wc 
 any reafon to believe that this age will produce 
 writings in thofe feveral ways fuperior to what have 
 hitherto appeared ? Srai are the queftions likely 
 to be afked by thofe, whofe minds have been nar*- 
 rowed by an early falfe bias given to us in our fyf- 
 tem of education, and afterwards continued through 
 life j I mean fhat extravagant idea entertained of 
 B the 
 
 I 
 
xiv INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE. 
 
 the power of writing, far beyond what in its nature 
 it can ever attain. But fuppofe it be aiTerted, that 
 this is the very caufe of the failure, in the attempts 
 made by fo many men of diftinguifhed abilities to 
 reform mankind. Suppofe it be afTerted, that they 
 have all ufed an inftrument, which in its very con- 
 futation, was incapable of accomplishing the work 
 they were about. In fhort, that fome of our great- 
 eft men have been trying to do that with the pen, 
 which can only be performed by the tongue ; t© 
 produce effects by the dead letter, which can never 
 be produced but by the living voice, with its ac- 
 companiments. This is no longer a mere aflertibn; 
 it is no longer problematical. It has been demon- 
 ftrated to the entire fatisfaction of fome of the 
 wifeft heads in thefe realms : and readers of but 
 moderate difcernment, will find it fully proved in 
 the fixth and feventh lectures, on Tones and Gef- 
 ture. 
 
 But that the bulk of my readers may not enter 
 upon the difcufiion of this point, with all their 
 prejudices about them, they are defired to reflect, 
 that language is the great inftrument, by which all 
 the faculties of the mind are brought forward, 
 moulded, polifhed, and exerted •, and that we have 
 in ufe two kinds of language, the fpoken and the 
 written. The one, the gift of God ; the other, the 
 invention of man. Which of thefe two is moft 
 likely to be adapted to its end, that of giving the 
 human mind its proper fhape, and enabling it to 
 difplay all its faculties in perfection ? 
 
 If they want to judge by effects produced in our 
 own times, how far the one language has the ad- 
 vantage 
 
 1 
 
INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE. xv 
 
 vantage over the other, let them only reflect on a 
 recent inffonce of a late minifter, who by the mere 
 force of cultivating the language bellowed by the 
 Deity on humankind, as far as he could carry it by 
 his own pains, raifed himfelf to the fole direction 
 of affairs in this country : and not only fo, but the 
 powers of his living voice fhook difiant thrones, 
 and made the extremities of the earth to tremble. 
 When it is well known that had the fame fenti- 
 ments been delivered in the language of men ; had 
 they been fent out into the world in a pamphlet ; 
 they would probably have produced lefs effects up- 
 on the minds of a few readers, than thofe of fome 
 hireling writers. And we have many flagrant in- 
 ftances in our methodift preachers, of the power 
 which words acquire, even the words of fools and 
 madmen, when forcibly uttered by the living voice. 
 And if the language of nature be polTeiTed of fuch 
 power, in its prefent neglected and uncultivated 
 ft ate, how immenfe muft be its force, were it car- 
 ried to the fame degree of perfection, that it was 
 amongft the ancient Greeks and Romans ? 
 
 Had the Greeks or Romans been bleft with the 
 light of revelation ; had they been pofTefled of fuch 
 a religion, and fuch a conftitution as ours, together 
 with fome difcoveries which time has produced \ 
 they would have carried all the powers belonging 
 to human nature to the utmoft degree of perfec- 
 tion ; and the ftate of fociety amongft them would 
 have approached as nearly to that blifsful ftate, to 
 which we are taught to look forwards, a fellowfhip 
 with angels, as the boundaries of the two worlds 
 would permit. . And would not this necefTarily be 
 
 our 
 
xvi INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE. 
 
 our cafe, were we pofTefTed of thofe articles, m 
 which the Greeks and Romans confeffedly excel- 
 led us ? We want only their arts added to our fci- 
 cnces. Their arts are effentially necefTary to ren- 
 der the nobleft difcoveries in modern philofophy, 
 practicably ufeful to fociety. Their arts are efTen- 
 tially neceflary to diflufe thofe benefits through all 
 ranks of people, which fuch a religion, and fuch a 
 confiltution as ours, are in their own nature capa- 
 ble of beftowing. In fhort, their arts are effential- 
 ly neceffary to our making a right ufe of all thofe 
 bleffings, which Providence has fhowered down 
 with a more liberal hand on this country, than on 
 any other in the world. Now they had no arts 
 whatfoever, in which they excelled us, that did not 
 take their rife, either immediately, or confequen- 
 tially, from the pains beftowed upon the culture of 
 the language of nature, the living fpeech. What 
 .is there wanting then amongft. us, but to apply our- 
 felves with induftry to the fame means, in order to 
 attain the fame ends ? 
 
 I know there are few capable of tracing a fpecu-- 
 lation of this fort, through all its fteps, fo as to per- 
 ceive the juftnefs of. the deduction. But I am now 
 little felicitous about what judgment mall be pail 
 upon the theory, fince the time is approaching of 
 trying it experimentally. A few fenfible effects 
 produced from practice, will, carry more conviction 
 to the bulk of mankind, than a thoufand.fpe dila- 
 tive arguments. It is with true fatisfaction of 
 heart I hail the approaching day, when all that I 
 have advanced upon this fubject will be put to that 
 teft. Whoever attended the courfe of lectures dur- 
 ing their delivery, will be convinced that things 
 
 are. 
 
INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE, xvii 
 
 are now ripe for execution, and that due encour- 
 agement will not be wanting to him who mall e£- 
 tablifh a fuccefsful method of teaching the art of 
 Delivery in this country. The conftant attendance 
 of the fubfcribers during the courfe ; the profound 
 attention with which the lectures were heard y the 
 general fatisfaction exprefTed by all who were pres- 
 ent at their delivery ; and the many perfonal ap- 
 plications to the author, from thofe who looked 
 upon themfelves as concerned in the event, either 
 on their own or their children's account, to begin 
 as foon as poflible upon fome practical plan, in or- 
 der to anfwer the ends propofed ; fufEciently con- 
 firm the truth of this afTertion. But when the 
 world is told, that the number of fubfcribers to 
 this, and a former courfe of the fame nature, was 
 not lefs than feventeen hundred, and that thefe 
 were all volunteers, as there was not the leaft feli- 
 citation ufed on the part of the author to promote 
 the fubfcription y it will probably be allowed, that 
 fuch a general, free encouragement, has hardly 
 been given to any iingle propofal in this age. 
 
 Before I quit this fubjecT:, I fhould be guilty of 
 great ingratitude, if I did not acknowledge my ob- 
 ligations to a nobleman 5 who, when he was acci- 
 dentally made acquainted with the nature of my 
 undertaking, and had read fome of my writings 
 upon this fubject, did not wait to be folicited, but 
 fought out the author,. honoured me with his coun- 
 tenance, and by more than words encouraged me 
 to proceed in my deiign. It will be hardly neceflary 
 to acquaint the reader, that this nobleman's title 
 is to be found prefixed to this work. 
 
 jciv io, 1762. LECTURE. 
 
LECTURE I 
 
 THAT a general inability to read, or fpeak 3 
 with propriety and grace in public, runs 
 through the natives of the Britifh dominions, is 
 acknowledged -, it Ihews itfelf in our fenates and 
 churches, on the bench and at the bar. 
 
 That Divine fervice in general is not performed 
 with that folemnity, diftinctneis, and propriety, 
 which the nature of fuch fervice demands ; nor 
 difcourfes delivered from the pulpit, with fuch 
 powers of perfualive, or forcible elocution, as alone 
 can make them produce their intended effe&s, is 
 alio generally allowed. 
 
 In fhort, that good public reading, or fpeakingj 
 is one of the rareft qualities to be« found, in a 
 country, where reading and fpeaking in public, are 
 more generally ufed, than in any other in the worlds 
 where the doing them well is a matter of the ut-. 
 moft importance to the ftate, and to fociety ; and 
 where promotion or honour, to individuals, is fure 
 
 to 
 
t LECTURE I. 
 
 to attend even a moderate fhare of merit in thofe 
 points, is a truth which cannot be denied. 
 
 When therefore we reflect, that fuch powerful 
 motives, as a fenfe of duty, of honour and of in- 
 tereft, have not iince the revival of letters (as far 
 as we can judge) produced any improvements in 
 thofe articles •, we fhould be apt at firft view to 
 imagine, that the inhabitants of thefe countries are 
 born under fome natural incapacity, of arriving at 
 any degree of excellence, in the great article of de- 
 livery : and that our Creator, when he furnimed 
 us liberally with all the intellectual powers, did not 
 in fuitable proportions fupply the means of difplay- 
 ing thofe powers to our fellow creatures. 
 
 But as we have never, been without a few in- 
 ftances of men, who by fome lucky circumftance 
 in their early culture, and by taking proper pains 
 themfelves to improve their talents for elocution, 
 have raifed great admiration in their hearers, of 
 their abilities in public fpeaking, we have fo many 
 proofs at leaft, that we are under no national curfe 
 of that fort. And as we have daily demonftration 
 in private life, that moft people fpeak juftly, and" 
 ■forcibly in company, upon topics wherein they are 
 nearly interefted, we may. conclude with certainty, 
 that there are no natural impediments in their way, 
 to do the fame in public alfo. 
 
 If 
 
 
LECTURE I. 3: 
 
 If any Granger in China, obferving the uncom*- 
 mon fmallnefs of feet in all the women ; or, in 
 fome favage countries, the uncouth, fhape of the 
 head in whole nations of barbarians, fome formed 
 into a conical figure, like that of a fugar-loaf, 
 others flattened at the top and rendered fquare ; 
 mould not be acquainted with the caufes of thefe 
 extraordinary appearances, he would be apt to con- 
 elude that they were defects and blemifhes of na- 
 ture. But when he mould be told, that the feet 
 of the former were bound in the tighten: manner 
 with bandages from childhood, on purpofe to pre- 
 vent their growth ; and the ikuils of the latter, 
 from the hour of the infant's birth, whilir yet they 
 were unclofed, and yielded to impreffion, were in- 
 duftrioufly moulded into thofe forms, from a mis- 
 taken idea of beauty ; how would he wonder at the 
 folly of nations, that could perfevere in fuch abfurd 
 cuftoms ? 
 
 Yet much more to be wondered at, would the 
 conduct of a civilized people be, who mould pei> 
 fevere in a cuftom far more fatal ; that of binding 
 up and contracting from early childhood, and 
 moulding into unnatural forms, the faculties of 
 fpeech, which are amongft the mofh noble, ufeful, 
 and ornamental, that are poflefled by man ; by 
 which, he is in a. more efpecial manner diftinguifl>- 
 
 eck 
 
4 LECTURE I. 
 
 ed from brutes ; and without the perfect ufe of 
 which, he cannot, in many cafes, as he ought, dis- 
 charge his duty to his neighbour, his country, or 
 his God. 
 
 If it can be proved that we are under the do- 
 minion of fuch a cuftom, the caufe of the general 
 defect complained of, will be apparent : and it muft 
 be obvious that whilft the influence of that cuftom 
 continues, it muft produce the fame effects, and no 
 amendment is to be expected. 
 
 That a general deficiency in point of public read- 
 ing and fpeaking, prevails in thefe countries, is al- 
 lowed. This deficiency muft arife either from nat- 
 ural or artificial caufes. That there are no natural 
 impediments in our way, has been proved •, confe- 
 quently they muft be artificial. What thofe arti- 
 ficial impediments are, which prevent our making 
 a progrefs towards perfection in thofe effential ar- 
 ticles, is the point now to be enquired into. 
 
 There cannot be a better clue to guide us to the 
 fource of the malady complained of, than a due 
 attention to an obfervation before made : " That 
 " there are few perfons, who, in private company, 
 " do not deliver their fentiments with propriety 
 " and force in their manner, whenever they fpeak 
 " in earneft." Confequently here is a fure ftand- 
 srd fixed for propriety and force in public fpeak- 
 
• LECTURE L $ 
 
 ing ; which is, only to make ufe of the fame man- 
 ner in the one, as in the other. And this, men 
 certainly would do, if left to themfelves ; and if 
 early pains were not taken, to fubftitute an arti- 
 ficial method, in the room of that which is nat- 
 ural. . 
 
 Of this there could not be a ftronger proof giv- 
 en, than if upon trial it were found, that after a 
 perfon had delivered his extemporaneous thoughts 
 upon a point in which he was interested, with due 
 force of emphafis, properly varied tones, juffc ca- 
 dences and paufes, accompanied with fuitable gef- 
 ture, and expreflive looks, the fame individual 
 words which he had uttered were written down, 
 and given to him to read ; if in that cafe, I fay, it 
 fhould be found that he would change his whole 
 manner ; fo that neither emphafes, tones, or ca- 
 dences fhould be the fame ; but in their room, he 
 fhould fubftitute fuch as he was taught to read 
 with; and that all gefture and expreffion of coun- 
 tenance fhould vanifh. And if this mould be the' 
 cafe when a man reads his own fentiments, (as in- 
 deed in general none read worfe than authors) how 
 much lefs likely is he to do juftice to the fentiments 
 of others ? 
 
 Here then is to be found the' true fource of the 
 bad manner of reading and fpeaking in public, that 
 
 fo 
 
6 LECTURE I., • 
 
 fo generally prevails ; which is, that we are taught 
 to read in a different way, with different tones and* 
 cadences, from thofe which we ufe in fpeaking ; 
 and this artificial manner, is ufed inftead of the 
 
 natural one, in all recitals and repetitions at fchool, 
 as well as in reading. 
 
 When therefore we consider that the fineft. arti- 
 ficial tones in the world, and the moft mufkal ca* 
 dences can never ftand in the place, or anfwer the 
 ends, of fuch as are natural, or appear fo by being 
 always ufed in difcourfe ; as may be feen by com- 
 paring the Italian recitative in operas, with a well 
 acted fcene in one of our plays ; what are we to 
 expect from fuch artificial tones, as are difcordant 
 Inftead of being harmonious ? or of fuch a method 
 of fpeaking introduced, as fhall make ufe only of a 
 few of thofe bad tones and cadences to exprefs all 
 manner of things; inftead of an endlefs variety, 
 furnimed by nature or cuftorn, to manifeft and 
 communicate, not only all the ideas which pafs in 
 the mind, but alfo all its operations, affections, and 
 paffions ? Is it to be wondered at that fuch an un- 
 natural manner of delivery, mould either produce 
 but little effect in the hearers, or excite difguft ? 
 
 When we reflect that the end of public fpeaking 
 is perfuafion, (for the view of every one who har- 
 angues in public is to bring his hearers into his 
 
 way 
 
LECTURE I. 7 
 
 way of thinking) and that in order to perfuade 
 others to the belief of any point, it muft firil ap- 
 pear, that the perfon who attempts it is firmly per- 
 fuaded of the truth of it himfelf ; how can we fup- 
 pofe it poffible that he mould effect this, unlefs he 
 delivers himfelf in the manner which is always ufed 
 by perfons who fpeak in earneft ? How fhall his 
 words pafs for the words of truth, when they bear 
 not its ftamp ? 
 
 Till therefore a way fhall be found out to coun- 
 teract for the prefent, and deftroy hereafter, the bad 
 cuftom which has given rife to this unnatural man- 
 ner of reading and fpeaking, we fhall in vain hope, 
 for the many excellent effects, which might be pro- 
 duced by good elocution, in a country, where there 
 is fuch an abfolute necefllty for it, to the fupport 
 of our conftitution, both in church, and ftate. 
 
 I mall therefore confider, in the firft. place, how 
 the power of this cuftom may be counteracted, for 
 the immediate relief of fuch as are labouring under 
 the effects of its bad influence ; and afterwards 
 fiiew how it may be wholly fubverted ; fo that the 
 riling, and future generations may no longer be 
 tainted by it. As the firft of thefe is the point in 
 which my hearers are more immediately concern- 
 ed, I fliall chiefly in the prefent courfe dwell upon 
 that. 
 
 C In 
 
8 LECTURE I. 
 
 In order to counteract and get the better of any- 
 bad habit, it is neceflary in the firft place, that the 
 perfon who is under its influence, mould be confcious 
 that he is fo •, in the fecond, that he fhould know 
 how, and by what means this bad habit grew upon 
 him, that be may know how to avoid thofe means, 
 and unlearn what was faulty ; which is the firfi 
 neceilary ftep towards improvement. 
 
 Sincerum eft nifi vas quodctinque infundis acefclt. 
 
 And laftly, that he mould be made acquainted with 
 the method of attaining what is right, in order that 
 a good habit may fucceed to a bad one. For as 
 habit only can get the better of habit, and a man 
 when he has parted with one manner, mull necei- 
 fariiy acquire another ; unlefs he knows what is 
 right, he may only change one bad manner for 
 another, or perhaps for one which is worfe. 
 
 To accomplifh thefe points, I mall firft lay open 
 the fources of our errors and faults in the art of 
 reading ; partly arifing from the unfldlfulnefs of 
 matters, and partly from defects and. imperfections 
 in the very art of writing itfelf. 
 
 And then, I mall fhew how, and by what means, 
 it may be in the power of every one to acquire a 
 right manner, by proper pains and practice. 
 
 Before I can make thefe points clear, it will be 
 i?.eceftary to recollect, that we have in ufe two dif- 
 ferent 
 
LECTURE I. 9 
 
 ferent kinds of language, which have no fort of af- 
 finity between them, but what cuftom has eilablim- 
 ed ; and which are communicated through differ- 
 ent organs : the one through the eye, by means of 
 written characters •, the other, through the ear, by 
 means of articulate founds and tones. But thefe 
 two kinds of language are fo early in life afTociated, 
 that it is difficult ever after to feparate them -, or 
 not to fuppofe that there is fome kind of natural 
 connection between them. And yet it is a matter 
 of importance to us, always to bear in mind, that 
 there is no fort of affinity between them, but what 
 arifes from an habitual aiTociation of ideas. 
 Though we cannot fo eafily feparate them in our 
 own minds, yet when we come to confider them 
 in relation to others, we fee clearly enough their 
 utter independance of each other ; as is obvious in 
 the cafe of men born blind, or deaf; the former 
 of whom may be perfect mailers of the language 
 which is fpoken, and the latter of that which is 
 written ; though neither of them can form an idea 
 of the other's language, or of the manner, by which 
 a communication of thoughts may be made through 
 the fenfe which they want. And indeed any com- 
 munication of that fort, between the deaf and the 
 blind, is impoffible. 
 
 All men who are wholly illiterate, are in the 
 fame circumftances with regard to language, as they 
 
 who 
 
io LECTURE I. 
 
 ■who are born blind. And as they have no concep- 
 tion of words, independent of founds, fo cannot 
 they comprehend how it is poffible for them to be 
 made vifible to the eye •, and therefore reading, in 
 its infancy, was looked upon as a fupernatural gift , 
 and the few who were mailers of that art, consid- 
 ered by the vulgar in the light of magicians. On, 
 the other hand, they who are born deaf, when, 
 taught to read, have no other ideas of words, but 
 what arife from their vifible marks ; and can as lit- 
 tle conceive, how it is poffible that they mould be 
 made obvious to any other fenfe, but that of fee- 
 ing. 
 
 Hence it comes to pafs, that the man wholly il- 
 literate, who has no other ideas of language, but 
 what he has obtained through his ear, always ufes 
 a variety of tones in fpeaking, fuch as are cuftom- 
 ary in his country ; according to the fenfe of the 
 words, or the emotions of his mind. On the con- 
 trary, the deaf man, when taught to fpeak, (as ma- 
 ny have been) always delivers his words in one uni- 
 form tone, without the leafl: variation. In an in- 
 termediate ftate between thefe, the reading men, 
 in proportion to the attention which they give to 
 the one kind of language or the other, either ap- 
 proach nearer to the monotony of the deaf man, or 
 the variety of the illiterate. On this account it is, 
 that the moil bookifh men are generally remark- 
 able 
 
 
LECTURE I. m 
 
 able for the worft delivery : as reading therefore 
 by means of the prefs, is become almofl univerfal 
 amongft us j and as the chief errors and defects of 
 our delivery, arife from a faulty manner of reading •, 
 there cannot be a matter of more importance, than 
 to explain fully how this faulty manner muft ne- 
 cefTarily prevail, not only from the unfkilfulnefs of 
 mailers, but alfo from the imperfect ftate of the 
 art of writing itfelf, until a proper remedy be 
 found. 
 
 For this end, let us confider thepurpofes which 
 may be anfwered by reading. They are chiefly 
 three : the acquifition of knowledge ; the afiifting 
 the memory to treafure up this knowledge -, or the 
 communicating it to -others. The firft two may be 
 done by filent reading ; the lair, requires reading 
 aloud. Let us now examine how far the art of 
 writing (under which head I include printing) is, 
 in its prefent ftate, fitted to anfwer the feveral pur- 
 pofes, and. how far and in what refpects it is defi- 
 cient. 
 
 With regard to the firftpoint, that of 'conveying 
 knowledge, it is plain enough that the written lan- 
 guage is in a fufncient ftate of perfection, as any 
 one who is once mafter of it can read- an author 
 who writes clearly, fo as fully to comprehend his 
 meaning with almoft the fame celerity that his eye 
 can; take, in- the words.* And the fame muft alfo 
 c 2 be 
 
12 LECTURE I. 
 
 be allowed with regard to the fecond ufe of written 
 language, that of aflifting the memory. To an- 
 fwer thefe two necefTary ends there has been fuffi- 
 cient care taken in the ftructure of written lan- 
 guage ; but as the third, that of reading aloud .to 
 others, was by no means a necefTary object ; on the 
 contrary, as every purpofe to which that is applied* 
 might be much better anfwered, by giving due at- 
 tention to the fecond ufe of writing, that of im- 
 printing words on the memory, fo as that they 
 might be delivered without any ufe of notes, there 
 has been no manner of regard paid to it in the 
 whole art of writing •, which does not contain one 
 fingle vifible mark, that can give us any affiftance, 
 in the moft important articles of a good delivery, 
 as I fhall prefently mew. 
 
 The Greeks and Romans made ufe of this art 
 only to anfwer the two flrft purpofes ; that of filent 
 reading, and that of auifting the memory ; for we 
 never hear of its being ufed amongft them in pub- 
 lic reading, as all their fhidied orations, poems, &c 
 were recited from memory ; confequently, they 
 had no occasion to carry the art of writing farther 
 than was necefTary to anfwer thofe ends. When 
 therefore we, who have taken the model of our 
 written language from them, would apply it to a 
 third ufe, for which it never was intended, and to 
 which it is not by any- means adapted in its nature, 
 
 fhall 
 
 
LECTURE I. 13. ■ 
 
 ihall we be furprifed if it fails to anfwer that end, 
 and wonder that reading aloud mould in general i 
 be fo ill performed ? 
 
 To prove > that our written language is by no 
 means calculated to anfwer this third purpofe, of 
 reading aloud, it will be only neceflary to fhew 3 . 
 that it contains no vifible marks, of articles, which 
 are the moft important of all others, to a juft de- 
 livery. A juft delivery confifts in a diftinct articu- 
 lation of words, pronounced in proper tones, fuit- 
 ably varied to the fenfe, and the emotions of the 
 mind ; with due obfervation of accent ; of empha— 
 fis, in its feveral gradations ; . of refts or paufes of 
 the voice, in proper places and well meafured de- 
 grees of time ; and the whole accompanied with 
 expreffive looks, and fignificant gefture. Now of 
 all thefe ingredients, not one of which can be fpar- 
 ed from a good delivery, there are but two, that 
 are at all regarded in the art of writing ; and thofe 
 are, articulate founds or words, which are marked 
 by letters ; and flops, or paufes of the voice, which 
 are marked by little figures and titties. And even 
 in thefe points, much greater regard, has been paid 
 to the two firft ufes of written language than to the 
 laft ', to the filent reader, than to him who is to 
 read aloud to others ; as may be feen by examin- 
 ing, in the firft inftance, in what manner words- 
 are fpelt *, in which the derivation and meaning of 
 
 the 
 
i 4 LECTURE L 
 
 the words is often more confidered, than any di- 
 rection of the proper founds refulting from the ar- 
 rangement of the letters. In this refpect indeed, 
 we are fo exceedingly loofe and irregular, that even 
 where no end can be anfwered by it, the words in 
 general, as prefented to the eye, would be fo far 
 from producing the true founds, that if they were 
 pronounced exactly as they are written, we fhould 
 not know them to be of our language. And as to 
 the fecond article, that of points or ftops, I fhall 
 prefently fhew that they are by no means fitted to 
 the natural refts and paufes of difcourfe ; and, as 
 they are managed, have proved the chief caufe of 
 fome of our greateft imperfections in reading. But 
 with refpecl to the other articles of tones, accent, 
 emphaies, and gefture, there are no vifible marks 
 to ferve as guides in thefe. And as thefe latter, 
 muft be allowed to be the fources, of every thing 
 which is pleafurable, or forcible in delivery ; and 
 to contain in them, all the powers of ftrongly im- 
 prefhng the mind, captivating the fancy, rouzim 
 the paffions, and delighting the ear ; it muft alfc 
 be allowed, that the moft erTential articles to a good 
 delivery, have been wholly left out of the graphi< 
 art. 
 
 It may be faid, that there is no occafion to have 
 any marks -for thefe, as the view of the words on 
 paper, will excite in the mind the ideas for which 
 
 they 
 
LECTURE I. t$ 
 
 they ftand ; and of courfe, all the accefFary circum- 
 ftances of delivery, which are ufually afibciated with 
 thofe ideas in the mind : and that as foon as we 
 perceive by the help of the eye, the full meaning 
 and import of any fentence, we fhall be able to ex- 
 prefs that meaning to others, in the fame manner,, 
 and with the fame propriety and force, as if it pro- 
 ceeded from the immediate fentiments of our own 
 minds. It were to be wifhed indeed that this a£» 
 fertion could • be made good, for in that cafe, there 
 would be few bad readers in the world ; but the 
 abundance of thofe, which are every where to be 
 found, fafficiently refutes this opinion. And in- 
 deed by examining the procefs of fuch, as are moffc 
 expert in the art of reading, we fhall be fully con- 
 vinced that the opinion is erroneous : every one of 
 whom will allow, that he cannot deliver any piece 
 of written compofition, fo well at light, or on the 
 firft reading, as on the fecond; nor on the fecond, 
 as on the third j and fo he continues improving in 
 his manner* every time? as the words grow more 
 familiar to him. Nay he will allow that he cannot 
 approach nearly to the manner of delivering them, 
 with the fame propriety and force, as he would his 
 own fentiments, till they as it were become his 
 own, by being fo perfectly imprefFed on the memo- 
 ry, that the mind may be wholly at liberty to at- 
 tend only to the delivery j without being called off 
 
 m 
 
Id LECTURE I. 
 
 to another office from any difficulty of recollection. 
 The lefs the mind is diftracted by attention to dif- 
 ferent operations, the more it can collect all its vig- 
 our to difplay any one. We may every day fee 
 that the perfon who attempts to repeat things 
 which he has not perfectly by heart, has his facul- 
 ties fo abforbed in the act of recollection, that he 
 cannot attend to the manner of his reciting, which 
 becomes proportionally defective. And in extem- 
 poraneous fpeaking - , they who have a fluency of 
 expreffion, and an eafy command of words, have 
 proportional advantages in point of delivery, over 
 thofe who are obliged to hefitate, ftop, and fufpend 
 their difcourfe, whilft the mind is, as it were, fent 
 out of the way, upon another office, that of fearch- 
 ing for proper words and phrafes, which ought to 
 have been ready at a call. 
 
 Were it requifite to enter into a philofophical 
 examination of the nature of reading, it would ap- 
 pear j that there are fo many and fuch various acts 
 of the mind necefTary to perform that office, as 
 would Sufficiently fhew us, that it is impoffible fuch 
 a portion of attention can be given to the manner 
 of delivery, as it ought to have, to anfwer its end, 
 if we confider it as the fubftitute of extemporane- 
 ous fpeaking. For in that cafe, as it is neceflary 
 that it mould be performed in the fame fpace of 
 time as the other, how is it poffible this can be 
 
 done* 
 
LECTURE L 17 
 
 done, when. there are So many more anions of the 
 mind requifite to the one than to the other ? And 
 though we mould allow, that through fkill and 
 habit a. reader, by the quick motion of his eye, 
 may comprehend the full meaning and import of 
 the words, and even have juft ideas excited of the 
 manner in which they ought to be delivered, in the 
 fame fpace of time only that would be taken up in 
 fpeaking thofe words, yet it by no means follows 
 that his execution mould anfwer his conceptions, 
 or that, the exact tones, and other accompaniments 
 of difcourfe, mould be ready at his will. For 
 though they fpontaneoufly ftart forth, when we 
 fpeak our own conceptions, being the immediate 
 refult of feeling ; yet, as we are not fo eaiily inter- 
 ested in the fentiments of others, and as feeling 
 muft in a great meafure be blunted or deftroyed, 
 by the attention which the mind is obliged to give 
 to fo many different points, in the act of reading ; 
 fo, muft we fuppofe, that the beft reading, muft 
 fall fhort of the power of fpeaking, in all articles 
 which depend upon feeling. And of this a well 
 known proof has already been given, in the in- 
 ftance of any good reader, who in proportion as his 
 attention is taken off from the words, by making 
 them familiar to him, or fixing them in his memo- 
 ry ; and his feeling increafed, by adopting the fen- 
 timents, is able to deliver them in. a manner ap- 
 proaching 
 
18 LECTURE I. 
 
 proaching nearer to that which he would life if 
 they were his own. 
 
 Of this we have fufricierit examples in comedi- 
 ans ; whofe profeflion it is to fpeak from memory, 
 
 •the fentiments of others ; and yet to deliver them, 
 as if they were the refult of their own immediate 
 feeling. But it is not at the firft, fecond, third, Or 
 
 *even twentieth reading of their parts, that they are 
 
 • able to hit upon the exac*l manner, in which the 
 •'words are to be delivered : they muft firft have 
 them perfectly fixed in their memories ; and even 
 
 • then, it is only by repeated trials, and conftant 
 practice in rehearfals, that they are able to affociate 
 to them, the juft tones, looks, and geftures, that 
 -ought naturally to accompany them. Indeed there 
 is nothing could put the difficulty of reading pro- 
 perly, in a ftronger light to any man, than his at 
 tempting to read aloud a ^fcene of a comedy ; in 
 which, though there are no tones to be ufed, but 
 what are known to him, and which he acknow- 
 ledges as'fuch, when ufed by others, yet can he by 
 
 -no means command them at his pleafure ; and he 
 •muft be obliged to own, that to conceive, and to 
 execute, 'are two different things : the firft may 
 arife from ftudy and obfervation, the'laft muft be 
 'the effect of practice. 
 
 That the great difficulty of reading with pro-* 
 priety, and in fuitably varied tones and cadences, 
 
 
LECTURE I. i 9 
 
 srifes from the want of fufficient figns and marks, 
 in the art of writing, to point them out ; and were 
 there but a fufficient number of thofe marks, read- 
 ing juftly at fight, might be rendered almoft as 
 eafy and as certain, as fingin'g at fight, is a matter 
 which might unqueftionably be proved, were it to 
 be attended by any advantage. But as that would 
 be merely a fpeculative point, inafmuch 'as there is 
 little likelihood that any change will be made in 
 the art of writing, it will be more immediately to 
 the purpofe, to enquire how the art of reading may 
 be improved^ whilft that of writing continues in its 
 prefent ftate. 
 
 Hitherto I have coilfidered the difficulty of read- 
 ing well, aloud, as arifing from its own nature only, 
 and the imperfect ftate of the written language 
 ainongft us, which does not feem by any means cal- 
 culated to anfwer that end. I have fhewn how 
 hard, nay impracticable it is, to arrive at clue per- 
 fection in that point, even on a fuppolition that 
 the readers have all proper qualifications for the 
 talk, and fhould not be under the influence of any 
 falfe rules, or bad habits. But as that is not the 
 cafe of one reader in ten thoufand, I mall now lay 
 open the more general fource of that impropriety 
 and badnefs of reading which is fo prevalent. 
 
 Befide the ignorance of mailers who teach the 
 
 jfirft rudiments of reading-, and the want of fkill, 
 
 D or 
 
20 LECTURE I. 
 
 or negligence in that article, of thofe who teack 
 the learned languages ; beiide the erroneous man- 
 ner, which the untutored pupils fall into, through 
 the want of early attention in matters to correct 
 fmall faults in the beginning, which increafe and 
 gain ftrength with years ; beiide bad habits con- 
 tracted from imitation of particular perfons, or the 
 contagion of example from a general prevalence of 
 a certain tone or chant in reading or reciting, pe- 
 culiar to each fchool, and regularly transmitted 
 from one generation of boys to another ; beiide all 
 iihefe, which are fruitful fources of vicious elocu- 
 tion, there is one fundamental error, in the meth- 
 od univerfally ufed in teaching to read, which at 
 iirft gives a wrong bias, and leads us ever after 
 blindfold from the right path, under the guidance 
 -of a falfe rule. 
 
 It was before obferved, that we have no viiible 
 marks in writing, but for words, and paufes or refts 
 of the voice. With regard to words, it was mewn 
 that they are more calculated, from the manner in 
 which they are fpelt, for the ufe of the filent read- 
 er, than for the affiftance of him that reads aloud. 
 But though, on account of the manner of fpelling 
 words, the difficulty of learning to read them at 
 iight is increafed, and for that reafon, more time 
 and pains are required, than would otherwife be 
 neceJTary ; yet, by time and pains, we find that the 
 
 point 
 
 
LECTURE L 21 
 
 point is generally accomplished ; and we come by 
 habit, to acknowledge words, whofe founds we are 
 pre-acquainted with, at fight, and to give them 
 their juft pronunciation, however ill adapted, the 
 order of the letters which compofe fuch words, 
 may feem, to produce fuch founds. This branch 
 of reading, has been brought to perfection, from 
 neceffity ; for were words to be pronounced as they 
 are fpelt, and not according to the manner ufed in 
 difccurfe, they could, not be known or under (rood $ 
 and all paffages fo read muft appear to be nothing 
 but jargon. But with regard to the other article 
 of written language, I mean the vifible marks of 
 the paufes and refts of the voice, the mailers have 
 not only been more negligent in perfecting pupils 
 in the right ufe of thefe,. but in their method of 
 teaching, have laid down fome falfe rules, under 
 the influence of which, it is impoflible that any one 
 can read naturally. In the firft place it is not 
 known, (though it be certainly true) that the marks 
 for paufes and flops in writing, are not more accu- 
 rate, with regard to pointing out fuch as are ufed 
 in difcourfe, than the words are, by the fpelling, to 
 point out their found 5 confequently it ought to be 
 the care of a mafler, in the one cafe, as well as the 
 other, to fhew wherein the difference confifts ; and 
 to fupply by oral inftruction, and habit, any de- 
 ficiency or error which may be in the art of writ- 
 ing? 
 
22 LECTURE I. 
 
 ing, with refpect to pointing, as well as with re- 
 gard to fpelling. Indeed the life of pointing, as 
 was before obferved with regard to fpelling, is much 
 more calculated to afiift the filent reader, in readi- 
 ly comprehending the meaning of fentences, than 
 in obferving the due proportions of time, in read- 
 ing aloud. But betide that the art of pointing, has 
 not been managed in fuch a way, as to make it an- 
 fwer, what ought to be its chief end, it has an office 
 affigned it quite foreign to its nature, and which it 
 is in no fhape fitted to difcharge ; for whereas it 
 mufl be apparent that the art of pointing in its 
 prefent {late, ought to have reference to nothing, 
 but either the grammatical contraction of fenten- 
 ces, or the different proportions of paufes in point 
 of time ; through want of others, the mailers have 
 made ufe of the flops as marks of tones alfo. How 
 little fitted they are to anfwer this end, we may 
 judge, by confidering that the tones preceding pauf- 
 es and refls in difcourfe, are exceedingly numer- 
 ous, and various, according to the fenfe of the 
 words, the emotions of the mind, or the exertions 
 of fancy *, each of which would require a diftinct 
 mark, and cannot be reprefented by fo {mall a num- 
 ber as four or five, which are ufed as flops. The 
 maflers therefore, have taken a fhort cut, to give 
 what they call proper tones to their pupils in read- 
 ing, by annexing artificial tones to the flops, . which 
 
 no, 
 
 
LECTURE I. 23 
 
 no way correfpond to thofe which are ufed in dif- 
 courfe ; and which may juftiy be called the reading 
 tones, in oppofltion to thofe of the fpeaking kind. 
 Gf thefe tones in general there are but two ufed -, 
 one which marks that the fenfe is not completed ; 
 another, which fhews that the fentence is doled. 
 For they have not even invented £o many tones, as^ 
 there are vifible marks of paufes. The comma, femi- 
 eolon, and colon, are pronounced in the fame 
 tone ; and only differ in point of time, as two or 
 three to one ; whilft the full flop is marked by a 
 different tone. As the one confifts in a uniform 
 elevation, and the other in a uniform depreffion of 
 the voice, we need no longer be at a lofs, to ac- 
 count for that difagreeable monotony, which fo gen- 
 erally prevails in reading ; .and which necefTarily 
 defeats every purpofe of book delivery, as the atten- 
 tion of all auditors rauft, not only foon be wearied 
 and dcftroyed by it, but in fuch as have any tafte^ 
 it muft occafion the higheft difguft. 
 
 Here then is the chief fource laid open of that 
 unnatural manner' of reading which fo univerfally 
 prevails t, and unlefs a perfon knows this, he can 
 never amend his error ; for the fight of the flops, 
 as naturally excites the tones which he was early 
 taught to affociate with them, as the fight of the 
 words excites their pronunciation ; and thus the 
 habit of reading, will only ferve to confirm him, in • 
 d 2 the- 
 
24 LECTURE t 
 
 the faulty manner which he has acquired. In this 
 cafe, we may apply to reading, what Montefquieu 
 has obferved of the laws •, where he fays, " There 
 w are two forts of corruption, one, when men do 
 " not obferve the laws, the other, when they are 
 " corrupted by the laws : an incurable evil, becaufe 
 " it is in the very remedy itfelf." 
 
 And indeed as in that cafe, the evil muft be in- 
 curable, whilft the influence of the laws remains ; 
 fo in the other, till the falfe rules are abrogated, 
 and juft ones eftablifhed in their room, there can 
 be no hopes of amendment. It muft be obvious 
 to the flighteft enquiry, that the mod effectual 
 method of introducing a general good manner of 
 reading, would be the giving due encouragement, 
 to a fufficient number of fkilful mafters, to teach 
 that art, by a well digefted fyftem of rules, accord- 
 ing to the practice of the ancients ; inftead of leav- 
 ing it to. old women, or the loweft and moft igno- 
 rant of mankind in the fir ft rudiments, or to fuck 
 as do not confider it as part of their province, and 
 who indeed in general know not how to teach it ; 
 which is the cafe in moft grammar fc.hools : the 
 confequence of which has been, that moft boys, are 
 either perverted by falfe rules, or having no rules 
 to guide them, take up any manner which chance 
 throws in their way, or imperceptibly yield to the 
 influence of bad example. 
 
 But 
 
LECTURE I. 2 5 
 
 But as a fcheme of this kind, would be of bene- 
 fit only to the riling generation, and as my prefent 
 object is, the improvement of fuch as are more ad- 
 vanced in life, I mall in the progrefs of this courfe, 
 endeavour to point out a method, by which the 
 adult may get the better of bad habits, and at the 
 fame time lay down fuch rules .to- guide them, in 
 acquiring a juft and natural delivery, as will enable 
 them to compafs their end, provided they take fuit- 
 able pains ; and afterwards proceed in order, to 
 pronunciation, accent, emphafis, paufes or ftops, 
 pitch and management of the voice, tones and ges- 
 ture ; which will comprehend the whole, of what I, 
 have to .offer, on that fubject . 
 
 LECTURE 
 
LECTURE II. 
 
 IJEFORE I examine the feveral parts 
 of elocution, it will be necefFary to define the 
 meaning of the term. 
 
 Elocution is the juft and graceful management 
 of the voice, countenance, and gefture, in fpeak- 
 ing. 
 
 Under this head, I {hall confider every thing 
 necefFary to a good delivery. I fhall treat of the 
 voice and gefture feparately, and include what re- 
 fpects the countenance in the latter article. And 
 firft of the voice, fo far as the organs of fpeech are 
 concerned. 
 
 A good delivery, in this feme of the word, de- 
 pends upon a due attention to the following arti- 
 cles : 
 
 Articulation \ Pronunciation ; Accent *, Empha- 
 fis •, Tones or Notes of the fpeaking voice; Paufes 
 or Stops 5 Key or Pitch, and Management of the 
 voice. 
 
 Of 
 
 
LECTURE II. 27 
 
 Of each of thefe in their order. And firft of 
 ARTICULATION. 
 
 A good articulation, conlifts> in giving every 
 letter in a fyllable, its due. proportion of found, ac- 
 cording to the moft approved cuftom of pronounc- 
 ing it ; and in making fuch a diftindtion. between 
 the fyllables, of which words are compofed, that 
 the ear mall without difficulty acknowledge thei? 
 number ; and perceive at once, to which fyllable 
 each letter belongs. Where thefe points are not 
 obferved, the articulation is proportionally defect 
 tive. 
 
 A good articulation is to the ear, in fpeaking^ 
 what a fair and regular hand is to the eye, in writ- 
 ing ; and exaclnefs in founding the words rightly, 
 eorrefponds to propriety in fpelling •, in both cafes, 
 the underftanding can comprehend what is offered 
 to it, with eafe and quicknefs, and without being 
 obliged to have recourfe to painful attention. Fak- 
 nefs and exadmefs of hand is not thought a necei- 
 fary qualification of a gentleman-,, and is expected 
 only from writing mafters and clerks. Nor is it a 
 difgrace to him, even to write fuch a hand, as is- 
 fcarcely legible* The more irregular the hand is, 
 the more time and pains indeed it will coft the 
 reader, to make out the words -, but then he may 
 do this at his leifure, as the marks are permanent., 
 
 With 
 
28 LECTURE IL 
 
 With regard to articulation, in which the markd 
 of the words vanifh as they are fpoken, this is not 
 the cafe -, and therefore it fhould be fo diftincl:, 
 that the hearer, may with eafe, go along with the 
 fpeaker, at the fame pace. For if he ihould ftop, 
 to fet any thing right, that is amifs in the fpeaker, . 
 whilft his attention is employed on that point, he 
 lofes irrecoverably, all that is faid during that time. 
 It is therefore in itfelf, a matter much more effen- 
 tially neceflary, that a fpeaker, mould have a clear 
 and diftinct articulation, than that a writer fhould 
 be mailer of a good hand. 
 
 But it is a difgrace to a gentleman, to be guilty 
 of falfe fpelling, either by omitting, changing, or 
 adding letters contrary to cuftom ; and yet it (hall, 
 be no difgrace to omit letters, or even fyiiables in 
 fpeaking, and to huddle his words fo together, as 
 to render them utterly unintelligible. Yet furely, 
 exactnefs in the latter, is a point of much more im- 
 portance than in the former article, in whatever - 
 light we view it. The writing of a gentleman is 
 fubmitted but to one reader at a time ; who may 
 examine it at his leifure, fupply any defects of or- 
 thography, and decypher the meaning, though the 
 characters be ever fo irregular. But the words of 
 one who fpeaks in public, whether delivered, or 
 read from notes, may be, at one and the fame time, 
 addreffed to many hundred hearers ; who muft lofe 
 
 the 
 
LECTURE II. 29 
 
 the benefit or purpofed end of the difcourfe, in 
 proportion as it is indiftinctly pronounced. 
 
 The reafon of the unequal judgment paft by 
 mankind in this cafe is, that written language is 
 taught by rule, and it is thought a mame for any 
 one, to tranfgrefs the known rules of an art, in 
 which he has been inftructed. But fpoken lan- 
 guage is not regularly taught, but is left to chance, 
 imitation, and early habit ; and therefore like all 
 other things left to chance, or unfettled principles, 
 is liable to innumerable irregularities and defects. 
 And in this cafe, mankind reciprocally claim, and 
 allow indulgence to each other. That this is the 
 true reafon, will be evident from this ceniideration ; 
 that amongit. the Greeks and Romans, where fpeak- 
 ing was regularly taught, the fmalleil error com- 
 mitted in pronouncing, was equally difgracefui in 
 men, 'as falfe fpelling is with us. 
 
 Hence it comes to pafs that faults in articulation, 
 early contracted, are fuffered to gain ftrength by 
 habit, and to grow fo inveterate by time, as to be 
 incurable •, partly through want of attention to the 
 point in early years ; and partly through want of 
 ikilful perfons to remedy the evil after it has been 
 .fuffered to take root. 
 
 Parents do not think it neceffary, to afiift their 
 infants, in their firft attempts to articulate words ; 
 or to make them proceed regularly, in the forma* 
 
 tioa 
 
3 o LECTURE II. 
 
 tion of fuch founds only, as are moll eafy, and re* 
 quire leaft exertion of the organs *, but by fufFering 
 them to try to pronounce any words whatfoever, or 
 even often urging them to fpeak fuch as are too 
 difficult, they give a wrong biafs to their weak ten- 
 der organs, which it would require much pains to 
 fet right. Hence often arifes fluttering, lifping, 
 and a total inability to pronounce certain letters. 
 The child being urged to utter a found, which he 
 finds either difficult, or impoffible, of courfe heii- 
 tates, or fubftitutes another letter of more eafy 
 pronunciation in the room ; or wholly omits it, and 
 only pronounces the remaining letters of the word; 
 and this he afterwards does habitually, never ufing 
 any endeavours of his own, to alter a pronunciation 
 which he finds eafy to himfelf. The parent, by 
 being accuftomed to it, underftands perfectly the 
 child's meaning, in this faulty manner of pronounc- 
 ing ; and too often, far from endeavouring to cor- 
 rect it, encourages him to proceed in it, by talking 
 to him in his own childifh way ; for which he ac- 
 quires a fort of fondnefs, accounting the blemifh a 
 prettinefs. 
 
 The fir ft mafter, (or rather miftrefs, as this 
 charge is generally consigned to old women) into 
 whofe hands he is put to learn to read, is utterly 
 ignorant of all rules, with regard to the art of 
 fpeaking.,or pronunciation. Thefe miferable drudges 
 
 profefs 
 
LECTURE II. 31 
 
 pYOfefs only to teach the written alphabet, and 
 to fpell and put fyllables together properly as they 
 are ufually written. But if a boy brings any im- 
 pediment with him ; if he flutters, lifps, or is de- 
 fective in the pronunciation of any letter, they neU 
 ther profefs nor know how, to cure any of thefe 5 
 to conceal their ignorance, they call them natural 
 impediments, or defects in the organs of fpeech, 
 and the ; child is permitted to go on in his own way* 
 as incurable. 
 
 When he is fent to the Latin fchool, .the office 
 of the mafter there, is not to teach him to articu- 
 late, in which point he expects that he mould come 
 ready prepared to him. He thinks his duty dis- 
 charged, if he makes him underftand Latin and 
 Greek well, and write correct exercifes. The art 
 of delivery is not part of his province ; in which it 
 is highly probable, that he is not only (utterly un^ 
 fkilled, but very defective him'felf. 
 
 Thus a vicious articulation, caught perhaps from 
 a nurfe, or favourite fervant, often infefts a man's 
 difcourfe through life. 
 
 The examples of li'fphig and ftammering, are 
 frequent ; -and the inability to pronounce certain 
 letters much more fo. Smaller defects in articular 
 tion, are fo general, that they pafs unnoticed. 
 
 I dare boldly affirm, that of the multitude of in* 
 
 fUnces which offer, of a vitiated articulation^ there 
 
 E is 
 
32 LECTURE II. 
 
 is not one in a thoufand, which proceeds from any 
 natural defect or impediment. Of this point I had 
 many proofs in the fchool where I received my 
 firfb rudiments of learning ; and where the matter 
 made pronunciation a chief obj eel of his attention; 
 in which I never knew a fingle inftance of his fail- 
 ing to cure fuch boys as came to him with any 
 defects of that kind ; though there were numbers, 
 who lifped or fluttered to a great degree, on their 
 firft entrance into the fchool ; or who were utterly 
 unable to pronounce fome letters, and others very 
 indiftinctly. 
 
 When Demofthenes firft fpoke in public, it was 
 objected to him that he could not even pronounce 
 the firft letter of his art, rhetoric ; and to this day 
 people are told that this was a natural defect in his 
 organs : but had that been the cafe, it would have 
 been impoflible that he fhould have ever got the 
 better of it ; which we are told he did, by inde- 
 fatigable pains, even a long time after he had ar- 
 rived at the age of manhood. So that it was clear- 
 ly owing to early bad habit, and to the want of 
 due pains, in correcting it in time. And indeed 
 we are alfo told, that through the avarice of his 
 guardians, this cuftomary, and, as it was then 
 thought, necefTary branch of education had been 
 omitted. 
 
 The 
 
LECTURE II. 33 
 
 The letter R is very indiftinctly pronounced by 
 many ; nay in feveral of the northern counties of 
 England, there are fcarce any of the inhabitants 
 who can pronounce it at all. Yet it would be 
 ftrange to fuppofe, that all thcfe people fliould be 
 fo unfortunately diftinguimed, from the reft: of the 
 natives of this iflancl, as to be born with any pecu- 
 liar defect in their organs ;. when the matter is fo 
 plainly to be accounted for, upon the principle of 
 imitation, and habit. 
 
 I have dwelt the longer on this head, becaufe 
 moil defects and imperfections, in the other arti- 
 cles of delivery, proceed from the fame fource, and 
 are curable only by the fame means. As alfo be- 
 caufe good articulation is the foundation of a good 
 delivery, in the fame manner as xh& founding the 
 fimple notes in mufic with e^a^nds, is the foun- 
 dation of good finging. 
 
 The grofTer faults of articulation, fuch as flutter- 
 ing, hefitation, lifping, and inability to pronounce 
 certain letters, can never be cured by precept alone \ 
 thefe require the conftant aid of a perfon, Ikilled 
 in the caufes of thofe faults •, who by teaching each 
 individual how to ufe the organs of fpeech rightly, 
 and by mewing him the proper pofltion of the 
 tongue, lips, &c. may gradually bring him to a juft 
 articulation. I fhall confine myfelf to the more 
 general faults % which though lefs obferved, on ac- 
 count 
 
34 LECTURE II. 
 
 count of their frequency, and their not being {o 
 obvious as the others, do neverthelefs fo fpoil and 
 corrupt delivery, as to make it difagreeable to the 
 ear, and irkfome to the under ftanding. 
 
 The firft, and moft effential point in articulation, 
 is diftinclnefs ; and therefore its oppofite is the 
 greateft fault. Indiftinclnefs to a certain degree, 
 renders the fpeaker unintelligible j or demands a 
 more than ordinary attention, which is always pain- 
 ful to the hearer. The chief fource of indiflinct- 
 nefs, is too great precipitancy of fpeech. And this 
 takes its rife in England, chiefly from a bad meth* 
 od of teaching boys to read. As the principal ob- 
 ject of the matter, is to make boys perfectly ac- 
 quainted with written .words, fo as to acknowledge 
 them at fight, and give them a ready utterance ; 
 the boy, who at firft is flow in knowing the words, 
 is flow in uttering them - but as he advances in- 
 knowledge, he mends his pace ; and not being 
 taught the true beauty, and propriety of reading, 
 he thinks all excellence lies in the quicknefs and- 
 rapidity, with which he is able to do it. The prize 
 to boys, who have made any proficiency in read- 
 ing, feems to be deftined to the fwift ; they fet out 
 at a gallop, and continue their fpeed to the end, 
 without regarding how many letters or fyllables 
 they drop by the way ; or how many words they 
 juftte into one another. This habit of reading, is 
 
 often 
 
LECTURE II. 35 
 
 often transferred into their difccurfe ; and is but 
 too frequently confirmed at the Latin fchools, 
 where the matters, in general, having no points in 
 view, but to make their fcholars repeat their lef- 
 fons by heart, or conilrue them in fuch a way, as 
 to fhew that they underitand them, care not how 
 haftily thefe exercifes are done ; or rather indeed, 
 are obliged to urge them to a fpeedy manner of 
 doing them, otherwife, it would be impoffible, to get 
 through the number of boys they have to teach,. 
 This bad habit afterwards gathers flrength, becaufe 
 the boys are neither confcious of theirown defects, 
 nor receive any intimation of them from others. 
 Nor do they fuddenly find any difadvantages arii- 
 ing from fuch imperfect utterance. For their mas- 
 ters, companions,, and relations, by being ufed to 
 their manner, underftand them perfectly ; in the 
 fame way as the prattle of children is under flood 
 by their parents and nurfes j or as a very bad hand 
 is read by thofe who are accuilomed to it. Such 
 bkniifhes and defects, are obvious only to flrangers, 
 and they in good manners will not mention them. 
 Thus the evil remains irremediable through life.. 
 
 It mull be evident that the putting any con- 
 flraint on the organs of fpeeeh, or urging them to 
 a more rapid action than they can eaiily perform in 
 their tender flate, mull: be productive of ihdillinct- 
 fcefs in utterance •, for in that cafe, the children 
 E z inuft" 
 
36 LECTURE II. 
 
 muft either drop fome letters, or give them fainter 1 , 
 founds than they, fhould have. And as fome let- 
 ters are in their own nature more difficult of pro- 
 nunciation, than others, and ftill more fo in their 
 different combinations, when they, form fyllables, 
 it is in thofe chiefly the imperfection will fhev/. 
 itfelf.. 
 
 To this hafty delivery, which drops fome letters* 
 and pronounces others too faintly ; which runs fyl- 
 lables into each other, and ciufters words together ;. 
 is owing that thick, mumbling, cluttering utter- 
 ance, of which we. have too many examples. The 
 greateft orator cf antiquity, we are informed, had 
 this fault, in a remarkable degree, even when he 
 ventured firft to fpeak in public .5 on which ac- 
 count his fpeech was exploded by the whole afiem-, 
 bly. But we are alfo told the caufe of this j which 
 is, that he had the misfortune, lingular in thofe 
 days, of not having been trained in the art of. 
 fpeaking. . 
 
 In all accounts of Demofthenes, we are inform** 
 ed, that to cure fome impediments in his fpeech, 
 he ufed to exercife himfelf in declaiming with peb- 
 ble-ftones in his mouth. What thofe impediments 
 were, or how fo uncommon a method fhould con- 
 tribute to their removal, is left to conjecture ; nor 
 can I find that there has been any attempt made, 
 to explain this point. But the difficulty will im- 
 mediately 
 
LECTURE m 37 
 
 mediately be folved, if we fuppofe, that the im- 
 perfection which he wanted to remedy, was, an in* 
 diflinct : articulation ; that owed its origin to a too 
 great precipitancy of utterance : for the pebble- 
 fbones in that cafe, properly placed in- the mouth* 
 would impede the ufual velocity in the action of 
 the tongue, and bring it in time to a due degree o£ 
 flownefs ; befides r they would be a conftant mem* 
 orandum to himfelf, to avoid any rapidity of uN 
 terance, which otherwife, from cuftom, without 
 fome memento of that kind, he would be apt to' 
 fall into. 
 
 The example of this prince c£ orators affords the. 
 highefY encouragement to all men who labour un-^ 
 der imperfections of fpeechy to endeavour their 
 cure ; as by diligence, and ufing proper meansy 
 they have reafon to expect fuccefs. For perhaps 
 there was not any one of his age who laboured un- 
 der: fo many defects in that way, even after he had 
 advanced i feveral years in manhood; and yet he 
 not only got the better of all thofe, but arrived at 
 fuch a pitch of exactnefs, delicacy, and power of de- 
 livery, as foon threw all competitors at a di (lance ' y 
 though elocution had arrived at fuch perfection in 
 his days, that it might juftly be called the age of 
 orators. And all this, as we are informed, was 
 chiefly accomplifhed by his own labour and aflidu- 
 ity. This, of all others, is the moft encouraging 
 y circumffcance 
 
3 8 LECTURE IT. 
 
 circumftance in thefe times, when a man can Have 
 little affiftance from others, and muft chiefly rely 
 npon himfelf, and his own endeavours, to apply 
 clofely to the cure of any ill habits of delivery, and 
 not to defpair of fuccefs. 
 
 To cure any imperfections in fpeech, arifing ori- 
 ginally from too quick an utterance, the moil ef- 
 fectual method will be, to lay afkle an hour every 
 morning, to be employed in the practice of reading 
 aloud, in a manner much flower than is necefFary. 
 This fhould. be done in the hearing of a friend, or 
 fome perfbn whole ofKce it mould be, to remind 
 the reader if at any time he mould perceive him. 
 mending his pace, and falling into his habit of a 
 quick utterance. Let him found, all his fyilables 
 full, and have that point only m view, without re- 
 ference to the feme of the words ; for if he is at- 
 tentive to that, he will unwarily fall into his old 
 habit : on which account, that he may not be un- 
 der any temptation of that, fort, I would have him, 
 for fome time, read the words of a vocabulary, in 
 the alphabetical order. In this way, he will foon 
 £nd out what letters and fyilables he is apt to found 
 too faintly, and ilur over. Let him make a lift of 
 thofe words, and be fure to pronounce them over 
 diftinctly, every morning, before he proceeds to 
 others. Let him. accuflom himfelf alfo, when 
 alone, to fpeak His thoughts aloud, in the fame 
 
 flew 
 
 . 
 
LECTURE II. 39 
 
 flow manner, and with the fame view. Gtherwife, 
 though he may get a habit of reading more flow- 
 ly, he will fall into his ufual manner in, difcourfe : 
 and this habit of fpeaking aloud, when alone, will 
 not only bring him to a more diftinct utterance, 
 but produce a facility of exprefiion, in which filent 
 thinkers are generally defective. 
 
 There is. one caufe of indiftinct articulation, 
 which is almofl univerfal, and which arifes from 
 the very genius of our tongue •, fo that unlefs great 
 care be taken, it is fcarcely poffible but that every 
 ©ne fhould be affected by it- in fome degree. Eve- 
 ry word, compofed of more fyllables than one, in 
 our language, has one fyllable accented, and pecu- 
 liarly diftinguifhed from the reft ; either by a fmart 
 percufiion of the voice, or by dwelling longer upon 
 it. If this accented fyllable be properly diftinguifh- 
 ed, the word will often be fuificiently known, even 
 though the others are founded very confufedly. 
 This produces a negligence, with regard to the- ar- 
 ticulation of the other fyllables ; which though it 
 may not render the fenfe obfcure, yet deftroys all 
 meafure and proportion, and confequently all har- 
 mony in delivery. This fault is fo general,, that I 
 would ftrongiy recommend at fir ft, the practice of 
 pronouncing the unaccented fyllables more fully, 
 and dwelling longer upon them, than is neceflary,' 
 as the only means, of bringing thofe, whofe utter- 
 ance : 
 
40 LECTURE II. 
 
 ance is too rapid, to a due medium. It is true tnere 
 are fome, who through the misfortune of bad in- 
 flruc~tion, or prevalence of early bad example, have 
 a tedious drawling utterance,. dwelling almoft equal- 
 ly on all fyllables, (of which I mail fpeak more un- 
 der the head of accent ;) but as this is neither con- 
 fonant to the genius of the tongue, nor the cuftom- 
 ary manner of fpeech in this country, there is no 
 great danger of erring on that fide. 
 
 PRONUNCIATION. 
 
 The next article which I propofe to treat of, is, 
 pronunciation. This word, which had fuch a com- 
 preheniive meaning amongft the ancients, as to take 
 in the whole compafs of delivery, with its concom- 
 itants of look and gefture *, is confined with us to 
 very narrow bounds, and refers only to the manner 
 of founding our words. This indeed is the only 
 article relative to elocution, which claims any part 
 of our attention. The reafon of which feems to 
 be this. In all other points of elocution, all ranks 
 and orders of men, wherever born, or in whatever 
 Situation of life, are equally liable to the fame de- 
 fects, and to fall into the fame errors. Amongft 
 thofe bred at the univerfity, or at court, as well as 
 amongft mechanics, or ruftics ; amongft thofe who 
 fpeak in the fenate-houfe, pulpit, or at the bar, as 
 Well as amongft men in private life ; we find flam- 
 
 meters. 
 
LECTURE II. 4* 
 
 merers, lifpers, a mumbling indiflincl: utterance } 
 ill management of the voice,, by pitching it in too 
 high, or too low a key ; fpeaking too loud, or fo 
 foftly as not to be heard ; and ufing difcordant 
 tones, and falfe cadences. The'fe being, I fay, com- 
 mon to all ranks and clafies of men, have not any 
 marks of difgrace put upon them, but on the con- 
 trary meet with general indulgence, from a general 
 corruption. 
 
 But it is not fo with regard to pronunciation ; 
 in which though there be as great a difference be- 
 tween men, as in any other article, yet this differ- 
 ence, is not £o much between individuals, as whole 
 bodies of men ; inhabitants of different countries, 
 and fpeaking one common languge, without agree- 
 ing in the manner of pronouncing it. Thus not 
 only the Scotch, Irifh, and Welih, have each their 
 own idioms, which uniformly prevail in thofe coun- 
 tries, but almoft every county in England, has its 
 peculiar dialect. Nay in the very metropolis two 
 different modes of pronunciation prevail, by which 
 the inhabitants of one part of the town, are dif- 
 tinguifhed from thofe of the other. One is current 
 in the city, and is called the cockney ; the other 
 at the court end, and is called the polite pronun- 
 ciation. As amongft thefe various dialects, one 
 muft have the preference, and become fafhionable, 
 it will of courfe fall to the lot of that which pre- 
 vails 
 
42 LECTURE II. 
 
 vails at court, the fource of fafhions of ail kinds. 
 All other dialects, are fure marks, either of a pro- 
 vincial, ruftic, pedantic, or mechanic education ; 
 and therefore have fome degree of difgrace annex- 
 ed to them. And as the court pronunciation is no 
 where methodically taught, and can be acquired 
 only by converging with people in polite life, it is a 
 fort of proof that a perfon has kept good company* 
 and on that account is fought after by all, who 
 wifh to be confidered as famio'nable people, or 
 members of the beau monde. This is the true rea- 
 fon that the article of pronunciation has been the 
 chief, or rather only object of attention, in the 
 whole affair of delivery. Yet though this is a 
 point, the attainment of which is ardently deiired 
 by an infinite number of individuals, there are few 
 who fucceed in the attempt, through want of meth- 
 od, rules, and affiftance of mafters ; without which 
 old habits cannot eiily be removed. 
 
 The difficulties to thofe who endeavour to cure 
 themfelves of a. provincial or vicious pronunciation 
 are chiefly three, ift, The want of knowing ex- 
 actly where the fault lies. adly, Want of method 
 in removing.it, and of due application. 3dly, "Want 
 of confcioufnefs of their defects in this point. The 
 way of getting over thefe ^difficulties I fhall endeav- 
 our to point out. 
 
 As 
 
 
LECTURE IL 43 
 
 As to the firft article, the want of knowing ex- 
 actly where the fault lies; moft perfons who have 
 a provincial dialect, finding that in every fentence 
 they utter, there are many things to be reprehend- 
 ed, are apt to imagine that their whole fpeech is 
 infected ; and therefore look upon a total cure, 
 againft the flrong power of early habit, as imprac- 
 ticable : whereas were they to examine into the 
 fource of this irregularity, they would find it to 
 arife perhaps, only from a different manner of 
 founding fome of the vowels, which occurring gen- 
 erally in every fentence, feems to infect their whole 
 difcourfe. 
 
 Thus the gentlemen of Ireland for inftance, dif- 
 fer from thofe of England, chiefly in two of the 
 founds belonging to the vowels a and e, founded 
 by them a and e, and even with regard to thofe 
 alfo, not always, but only in certain words. In 
 many of which they give the found a to the firft 
 vowel where it is pronounced a, and the found e 
 to the fecon'd, where it is pronounced e. Thus 
 the words patron, matron, are pronounced by them 
 patron, matron, the a being founded as it is in 
 father : fever, fea, pleafe, are pronounced like fa- 
 vour, fay, plays. They foon become confcious of 
 this diverfity of found, and net knowing exactly 
 in what words it is ufed, in order to imitate the 
 Engli&i pronunciation, they adopt the found ee in 
 F all 
 
 -< 
 
44 LECTURE II. 
 
 all words without diftindtion ; inflead of great they 
 fay greet ; for occafion, occeefion , days, dees, &c» 
 
 Now this miftake is evidently owing to want of 
 method ; for were there a vocabulary made, con- 
 taining all the words in alphabetical order, in which 
 the Englifh pronunciation differs from the Irifti 
 with regard to thefe two founds, their number 
 would not be very considerable, and all might by 
 moderate practice, in a fhort time, make themfelves 
 completely matters of the polite pronunciation ; for 
 they fcarcely differ in any other points, or at leaft 
 the exceptions are fo few, that they might be 
 brought into a very narrow compafs. 
 
 This brings me to the confederation of the fee- 
 ond impediment in the way of fuch as would be 
 defirous of getting rid of a provincial dialect, the 
 want of method ; often the fource of want of due 
 application. 
 
 As there is no method ready to his hands, each, 
 individual muft form one to himfelf. Let him in 
 the firft place employ his attention in difcovering 
 the particular vowels in the founding of which the 
 provincial manner differs from the polite pronun- 
 ciation. Let him by the help of dictionaries and 
 vocabularies, make out a lift of the words, in which 
 thofe vowels are to be found ; and get fome friend 
 to attend him whilft he reads thofe words over, and 
 mark their particular founds, diftinguifhing thofe 
 
 whick 
 
 
LECTURE IX. 
 
 45 
 
 which differ from the general rule. When by thefe 
 means he is able to found them all right, let him 
 practice them daily over by himfelf, and let him 
 felect fuch words as he finds moft difficult of pro- 
 nunciation, and form them into fentences, verfes, 
 or anagrams ; which he may get by heart and fre- 
 quently repeat. Though this may feem laborious 
 at firft, the talk in the progrefs will be found eafier 
 than is imagined, and he who makes ufe of this 
 method will be encouraged to proceed, from the 
 certainty of fuccefs which will attend every flep of 
 his progrefs. Whereas they who attempt to alter 
 their pronunciation without method, only plunge 
 from one error into another, and- foon grow weary 
 of fruitlefs pains. 
 
 Befide fuch as have a provincial pronunciation 
 of certain letters, perceptible in all words wherein 
 thofe letters are founded, there are few gentlemen 
 of England who have received their education at 
 country fchools, that are not infected with a falfe 
 pronunciation of certain words, peculiar to each 
 county. It will not be difficult for them to collect 
 all fuch words, as they feldom are numerous ; and 
 after having collected them, if they will daily re- 
 peat them, till the tongue gets a habit of pronounc- 
 ing the hew founds with eafe, they will foon take 
 place of the others in their common fpeech. And 
 furely every gentleman will think it worth while,- 
 
 to 
 
46 LECTURE IL 
 
 to take fome pains* to get rid of fuch evident 
 marks of rufticity. 
 
 How eafy would it be to change the cockney 
 pronunciation, by making ufe of a proper method ! 
 The chief difference lies in the manner of pro- 
 nouncing the ve, or u confonant as it is commonly^ 
 called, and the w ; which they frequently inter- 
 changeably ufe for each other. Thus they call veal 
 weal, vinegar winegar. On the other hand they 
 call winter vinter, well veil. Though the convert- 
 ing the iv into a v is not fo common as the chang- 
 ing the v into a w. 
 
 Whoever will allot a- certain portion of time 
 every day, to read aloud in the hearing of a friend, 
 all words in the dictionary beginning with thofe- 
 two letters, will find in a fhort time the true pro- 
 nunciation become familiar to him. In children 
 this error might in a great meafure be prevented, 
 if when they are taught to fpell, the letter were 
 called by the name which marks its power, ve in- 
 jftead of u confonant: for in -that cafe the very, 
 found of the letter would guide them to the true- 
 pronunciation; whereas in the other the found it- 
 felf confirms them in the vulgar one. A child 
 might be foon made fenfible of the abfurdity of 
 founding veal weal, though it is impofiible he 
 fhould perceive any impropriety in pronouncings 
 u e a 1 in that manner.' 
 
 Another. 
 
LECTURE II. 47 
 
 Another vice in the cockney pronunciation, is 
 the changing the found of the laft fyllables of words 
 ending in ow, wherever it is not founded like a 
 dipthong, but like a fimple o, (which is always the 
 cafe when the laft fyllable is unaccented) into er — 
 as feller for fellow — beiler, holler, roller, winder, — 
 for bellow, hollow, follow, window. As alfo add- 
 ing the letter r to all. proper names ending in a un- 
 accented, as Belindar, Dorindar, for Belinda, Do- 
 rinda. But the words in our language which come 
 under either of the above cafes are fo few, that a 
 lift of them might foon be made, and the vicious 
 habit give place to a juft one by the method of 
 practice before recommended. , 
 
 With refpect to the ruftic pronunciation, pre- 
 vailing in the feveral counties, I mean amongft the 
 gentry, and fuch as have a liberal education, there 
 does not feem to be any generaL error of this fort •, 
 their deviations being for the moft part, only in 
 certain words, founded in, a peculiar manner by 
 each county ; and which probably owe their pref- 
 ent pronunciation, to the continuation of the old 
 cuftom -, which like other antiquated- modes, chang- 
 es more ilowly in proportion to their diftance from, 
 or want of communication with the court. And 
 thefe deviations not being very numerous, as was 
 before obferved, may eafily be fet right. But there 
 is one defect which more generally prevails in the 
 f 2 counties 
 
4 8 LECTURE II: 
 
 counties than any other, and indeed is daily gain- 
 ing ground amongft the politer part of the world, 
 I mean the omiffion of the afpirate in -many words 
 by fome, and in moft by others. Were this cui- 
 tom to become general, it would deprive our tongue 
 of one great fund of force and expreffion. For 
 not only certain words have a peculiar energy, but 
 feveral emotions of the mind are ftrongly marked, 
 by this method of mooting out the words (if I may 
 be allowed the expreffion) with the full force of the 
 breath. As in the exclamations what ! when ? 
 where? why } how ! hark I hift ! — In the words 
 hard, harfh, heave, hurt, whirl, whiiperj whittle. 
 If any one were to pronounce the following fen- 
 tence, Hail ye high minifters of Heav'n ! how hap- 
 py are we in hearing thefe your heavenly tydings ? 
 without an afpirate thus— Ail ye igh minifters of 
 eaven ! ow appy are we in earing thefe your eaven- 
 ly tydings ! who does not fee that the whole expref- 
 fion of triumph and exultation would be loft ? And 
 the fame may be obferved with regard to the oppo- 
 site expreffion of abhorrence and deteftation, if the 
 following fentence, How I hate, how I abhor fuch 
 hell-hounds ! were pronounced in the fame man- 
 ner, ow I ate, ow I abbor fuch ell-ounds. But let 
 no one imagine, that becaufe he would not pro- 
 nounce many fucceffive words, or a whole fentence 
 in this manner, he is therefore entirely free from 
 
 defeft 
 
LECTURE II. 49. 
 
 defeat in this point •, for I have met with but few; 
 inftances in the courfe of my experience, and thofe 
 only in the moft correct fpeakers, of perfons who- 
 have not been guilty of omitting the afpirate from 
 fome words, or giving it too faintly to others. The* 
 beft method of curing this will be to read over 
 frequently all words beginning with' the letter if 
 and thofe beginning with Wh in the dictionary, 
 and pufh them out with the full force of the breathy 
 till an habit is obtained of afpirating ftrongly : nor 
 need any one fo circumftanced- be apprehensive of 
 falling into an extreme on that fide, as the old hab-< 
 it will pull as ftrongly on * the oppofite fide, and iii 
 this, as in all other points, reduce it to a medium- 
 There is another article which has produced fre- 
 quent dilputes with regard to pronunciation, as 
 whether the word mould be pronounced concord- 
 ance or concordance— refractory or refractory — 
 but points of this kind come more properly under 
 the next, head which I fhall treat of, that of Ac- 
 cent. 
 
 There are fome other words alfo of dubious 
 found, fuch as goold or gold, wind or wind ; pro- 
 nunciations of this kind have their feveral advo^ 
 cates, and there is no impropriety in ufing either. 
 In cafes of this nature all who have an opportunity 
 of being, informed of that pronunciation moft ufe'd 
 by men of education at court, will have the beft 
 
 authority 
 
$a LECTURE IT. 
 
 authority on their fide ; as that is indeed the only 
 fhndard we can refer to, in critical cafes, as well 
 as others. 
 
 I come now to fpeak of the laft, and chief obfta- 
 cle in the way of thofe who are defirous of chang- 
 ing a vitiated pronunciation for a right one j I 
 mean a want of confcioufnefs of their defects and 
 errors in that point. And this is either total, or 
 partial* Total, when, men think they have na- 
 faults to amend; partial, when they know they 
 have faults, but are not confcious of them at the 
 time they commit them. The former, whilft they 
 remain under the influence of this vain opinion, 
 are incurable •, the latter, ftand in need only of 
 method and information, to be fet right.. I have 
 known many instances of both kinds, in perfons 
 who have come to London with a provincial dia- 
 lect. At firft, the difference of pronunciation in 
 many words, cannot but ftrike them *, but as they 
 know not any method by which they may acquire 
 that which is right, they leave it to time to bring 
 about a change; not conildering that early habit 
 cannot be diflodged, but by much pains and prac- 
 tice. When their ears have been, for any length 
 of time, familiarized to the new pronunciation, 
 they no longer perceive the dilVinction ; and inftead 
 of attributing this to the true caufe, they are apt 
 to flatter themfelves, that it is owing to a gradual 
 
 change 
 
 
lecture n; jfc 
 
 change wrought in their own pronunciation to the 
 &mionable one. There are others, who take fome 
 pains to find out their faults, and to: be informed 
 of the particulars in which they differ from the 
 eftablifhed mode j and think the bufinefs is accom- 
 plished, when they have obtained this knowledge. 
 But they do not consider that to know, and to prac- 
 tice, are two different things ; and that early cus- 
 tom will ever prove too ftrong for the former, if 
 the latter does not come to its aid. Nothing is 
 more frequent than inftances of perfons conftantly 
 mifpronouncihg feveral words, not through igno- 
 rance of the right way, for they will immediately 
 correct themfelves if put in mind of it ; but through 
 want of. confcioufnefs at. the time that they.ufe the 
 falfe one, to which they have been habituated. 
 And in proportion as this want of confcioufnefs 
 takes place, the habit muft for ever gain ftrength. 
 This will fiifficiently explain the reafon that fo many 
 provincials have grown old in the capital, without 
 making any change in their original dialect. No 
 man can amend a fault, of which he is not con-, 
 fciousj and confcioufnefs cannot exert itfelf, when 
 barred up by habit, or vanity. In thefe circum-^ 
 jftances it is not from . ourielves, but from . others > 
 that we are to learn when we commit a fault ; and 
 perhaps there is no civilized country in the world 
 where people find it fo difficult. to get information; 
 
 OHv 
 
5*2 LECTURE II. 
 
 on this head, as England. Here it is cuftomary 
 enough to laugh at foreigners, and ridicule provin- 
 cials, for errors and defects in pronunciation ; but. 
 to inform, them of their faults when they commit 
 them, or to attempt to correct them, would be 
 thought the height of ill manners. In confequence 
 of this miftaken notion, they alfo who have mod 
 need of aid, consider it as a fort of infult when it 
 is offered, and will not patiently fubmit to correc- 
 tion ; more efpecially fuch natives of England as- 
 have any faults of this kind, who think they natur- 
 ally pronounce their mother tongue right. By 
 fhutting their ears againft information, they indulge 
 tliemfelves in the vain opinion that they have no. 
 faults *, like the foolifh man who fhut his eyes that 
 no one might fee him. How much more rational 
 is the behaviour of the French in this point. They 
 know that ftrangers and provincials muft neceflari- 
 ly commit faults in pronouncing their tongue ; and 
 therefore do not think that a thing which is nat- 
 urally to be expected, is a proper fubject of laugh- 
 ter or ridicule. On the contrary, they are always 
 ready, with the utmoft politenefs, to fet people 
 right, whenever they fall into any miftakes. But 
 as no aid of this kind is to be expected in England, 
 and as the rectifying bad habits depends upon our 
 confcioufnefs of them at the time we fall into them, 
 and confcioufnefs can be awakened only by infor- 
 mation fc 
 
 
LECTURE IL 53 
 
 ^nation ; all who have a mind to get rid of fuch 
 bad habits, muft endeavour to prevail upon their 
 intimate friends and acquaintance, never to let any 
 opportunity flip of putting them in mind of any 
 fault they commit* Though this may eaiily be 
 complied with in private, yet as it is contrary to 
 caftom to -attempt it in mixt company, a private 
 %n agreed en will be a fuiScient hint in that cafe. 
 
 LECTURE 
 
LECTURE III. 
 
 ACCENT. 
 
 XjLAVING treated in my former of artio 
 illation and pronunciation, I come now to confider 
 the third article, that of Accent. The meaning of 
 that term was very different amongft the Ancients 
 from what it is with us. Amongft them we know 
 that accents were marked by certain inflexions of 
 the voice like mufical notes ; and the grammarians 
 to this day, with great formality inform their pu- 
 pils, that the acute accent, is the raiilng the voice 
 on a certain fyllable ; the grave, adepreffion of it ; 
 and the circumflex, a railing and depreffion both, 
 in one and the fame fyllable. This jargon they 
 conftantly preferve, though they have no fort of 
 ideas annexed to thefe words ; for if they are afked 
 to mew how this is to be done, they cannot tell, 
 and their practice always belies their precept. The 
 truth is, the Ancients did obferve this diftmction, 
 becaufe we have it on the authority of all their writ- 
 ers, 
 
LECTURE III. ss 
 
 ers, who have treated on the fubject ; but the man- 
 ner in which they did it muft remain for ever a fe~ 
 cret to us ; for with the living tongue, perifhed 
 the tones alfo, which we in vain endeavour to feek 
 for in their vifible marks. Yet fuch was the abfur- 
 dity of mailers of grammar fchools 'en the revival 
 of ancient literature, that though it was impoffiblc 
 for them to difcover the true ufe of the accents 
 amongfi the Greeks, rather than acknowledge their 
 ignorance, or that thofe marks were become utter- 
 ly ufelefs, they fell into a practice as abfurd as could 
 poflibly have entered into the heads of the moft ig- 
 norant barbarians ; for obftinately and pedantical- 
 ly retaining the marks, notwithstanding, their evi- 
 dent inanity, to fupport this practice, they deter- 
 mined to apply them rather to a falfe ufe, than to 
 none at all. And finding it impoflible to come at the 
 leafl knowledge of the accents as ufed amongfi: the 
 Ancients, they determined at all events to adopt in- 
 to their practice the modern ufe of them ; though 
 that term has quite a different Signification amongfi 
 us. This practice is juft as wife, as if the fame 
 term which fignified man amongil the Greeks, Sig- 
 nified horfe amongfi us, and we were to reafon 
 from names .to things, and conclude therefore that 
 a horfe was a rational creature. And indeed it had 
 pretty much the fame effects in point of reading 
 Greek, producing the moil manifefl abfurdities. 
 G For 
 
5 6 LECTURE IIL 
 
 Fcr whoever read Greek in that way, necefTarily 
 defbroyed all quantity and meafure ; and therefore 
 they were obliged to read the fame individual words 
 in a different manner in verfe, from what they did 
 in profe. Amazing ! that fuch an abfurdity did 
 not at once convince them of their error. But as 
 fome eminent matters, of more enlarged minds, 
 have lately abolifhed this practice in the chief of 
 the public fchools, and as a few editors have ven- 
 tured to publiih fome Greek books without thole 
 infignincant marks, it is to be hoped that a refor- 
 mation in this article will foon be made general. 
 
 Thus much I thought neceliary to premife, that 
 any p^rfcn who has early imbibed confufed notions 
 <o£ the term accent in the ancient languages, may 
 baniih them from his mind, and only be prepared 
 to conflder what the ufe of it is amonsift. us. 
 
 The term with them, flgniiied certain inflexions 
 of the voice, or notes annexed to certain fyllables, 
 in fuch proportions as probably contributed to make 
 their fpeech mufical. Of thefe they had chiefly 
 three in general ufe, which were denominated ac- 
 cents,, and the term ufed in the plural number. 
 
 The term with us has no reference to inflexions 
 of the voice, or mufical notes, but only means a pe- 
 culiar manner of diftinguifhing one fyllable of a 
 word from the reft, denominated by us accent ; and 
 the term for that reafon ufed by us in the Angular 
 number. This 
 
LECTURE III. 57 
 
 This distinction is made by us in two ways ; ei- 
 ther by dwelling longer upon one fy liable than the 
 reft ; or by giving it a fmarter percuffion of the 
 voice in utterance. Of the firft of thefe, we have 
 inftances in the words, glory, father, holy ; of the 
 laft, in bat'tle, hab'it, bor'row. So that accent, 
 with us, is not referred' to tune, but to time ; to 
 quantity, not quality ; to the more equable or pre- 
 cipitate motion of the voice, not to the variation of 
 notes or inflexions. Thefe have nothing to do 
 with words feparately taken, and are only made ufe 
 of, to enforce, or adorn. them, when they are rang- 
 ed in fentences. 
 
 It is by the accent chiefly that the quantity of 
 ©ur fyllables is regulated"; but not according to the 
 miftaken rule laid down by all who have written 
 ©n the fuhject, that the accsnt always makes the 
 fyllabie long ; than which there cannot be any thing 
 more falfe. For the two ways of diftinguifhing 
 fyllables by accent, as mentioned before, are direct- 
 ly oppohte, and produce quite contrary effects -, the 
 one, by dwelling on the fyllabie, neceffarily makes 
 it long ; the other, by the {mart percullion of the 
 voice, as neceffarily makes it ihort. Thus the firfl 
 fyllables in glory, father, holy, are long ; whilfl 
 thofe in battle, habit, borrow are ihort. The quan- 
 tity depends upon the feat of the accent, whether 
 if be on the vowel or confonant ; if on the vowel, 
 
 the 
 
5 8 LECTURE UL 
 
 the fyllable is necefFarily long ; as it makes the vow- 
 el long ; if on the confonant, it may be either long, 
 or fhort, according to the nature of the confonant, 
 or the time taken up in dwelling upon it. If the 
 confonant be in its nature a fhort one, the fyllable 
 is necefFarily fhort. If it be a long one, that is, 
 one whofe found is capable of being lengthened, it 
 may be long or fhort at the will of the fpeaker. 
 
 By a fhort confonant I mean one whofe found 
 cannot be continued after a vowel, fuch as c or k 
 p t, as ac, ap, at — whilft that of long confonants 
 can, as, el em en er ev, &c. If we change the feat 
 of the accent in the inftances before mentioned we 
 fhould change their quantity ; were we inftead of 
 glo-ry to fay glor'-y — inftead of f a-ther fat'h-er — 
 inftead of ho-ly hoi'-y, the firft fyllables would be- 
 come fhort *, as on the other hand, were we to 
 dwell on the vowels inftead of the confonants in 
 the laft inftances, they would change from fhort 
 to long ; fhould we for inftance inftead of bat v tle 
 fay battle — for ha- x bit habit — and for borrow bor- 
 row. This is one of the chief fources of the dif- 
 ference between the Scotch and Englifh gentlemen 
 in the pronunciation of Englifh ; I mean, the lay- 
 ing the accent on the vowel, inftead of the confo- 
 nant, by which means they make fyllables long, 
 that are fhort with us. 
 
 And here I cannot help taking notice of a cir* 
 
 cumftance, 
 
EECTUKE III, 59 
 
 eumftance, which mews in the fbrongefl light, the 
 amazing deficiency of thofe, who have hitherto 
 employed their labours on that fubject, in point 
 of knowledge of the true genius and conftitution 
 of our tongue. Several of the compilers of dic- 
 tionaries, vocabularies, and fpeliing books, have un- 
 dertaken to mark the accents of our words *, but 
 fo little acquainted were they with the nature of 
 our accent, that they thought it necefTary only to 
 mark the fyllable on which the ftrefs is to be laid, 
 without- marking the particular letter of the fylla- 
 ble to which the accent belongs. They have there- 
 fore marked them by one uniform rule, that of 
 placing the accent always over the vowel of the 
 diftinguifhed fyllable. By which means they have 
 done worfe, than if they had not pointed out ftich 
 fyllables at all ; for this rule, inftead of guiding 
 ftrangers to a true pronunciation, infallibly leads 
 them to a wrong one, whenever the accent mould 
 be placed. on the confonant. Thus all foreigners 
 and provincials, muft for ever be mifled, by con- 
 fulting mch dictionaries. . For. inftance, if they 
 look for the word endeavour, finding the accent 
 upon the vowel e, they will of courfe found it en- 
 deavour.- In the fame manner, dedicate, will be 
 called dedicate — precipitate precipitate— hab'it ha- 
 bit, and fo on. Nov/ had they only attended to 
 the plain rule, of placing the accent always over 
 G 2 the 
 
6o LECTURE III. 
 
 the confonant, whenever the ftrefs is upon that, 
 they would have afforded the beft and moil; gener- 
 al guide to juft pronunciation, that could be found 
 with regard to our tongue. For it is an unerring 
 rule throughout the whole, that whenever the ac- 
 cent is on the confonant, the preceding vowel has 
 a fhort found. As there is alfo another infallible 
 rule in our tongue, that no vowel ever has a long 
 found in an unaccented fyllable, if this article of 
 accent were properly adjufted, it would prove a 
 mailer key to the pronunciation of our whole 
 tongue. 
 
 When we fee fuch a palpable and grofs miftake 
 as this, in our compilers of dictionaries, we Ihould 
 be at a iofs to account for it, if we did not reflect, 
 that they, as well as our grammarians, have never 
 examined the ftate of the living tongue, but whol- 
 ly confined their labours to the dead written lan- 
 guage ; their chief object, therefore has been to af- 
 fix! iilent readers, in comprehending the meaning 
 of the words ; not thofe who are to read aloud, in 
 a proper delivery ; to teach men how to write, not 
 how to fpeak correctly. In this view, the marking 
 the fyllable alone on which the accent is laid, with- 
 out attending to the particular letter, would an- 
 fwer their purpofe, as it would enable writers to 
 arrange their words properly in metre, according 
 to the rules of Engliih verification. Every word 
 
 in 
 
LECTURE III. 6i> 
 
 m our language of more fyllables than one has an 
 accented fyllable. The longer polyfyllables, have 
 frequently two accents, but one is fo much ftronger. 
 than the other, as to mew that it is but one word 5 
 and the inferior accent is always lefs forcible, than 
 any accent that is the iingle one in a word. Thus 
 in the word expos^tulator'V) the ftrongeft accent is 
 on the fecond fyllable pos", but there is a fainter, 
 accent on the laft fyllable but one, founded tur'y 
 expos A 'tulatur-ry, as a fucceffion of four unaccented 
 fyllables would not be agreeable to the ear, and 
 might prevent diftincl: articulation. All monofyl- 
 lables in our language are alfo accented, the parti- 
 cles alone excepted, which are always without ac- 
 cent, when not emphatical ; and they are long or 
 fhort, in the fame manner -as before mentioned, ac- 
 cording as the feat of the accent is on the vowel or 
 confonant. Thus, ad'd, led', bid', rod', cub', are all 
 fhort, the voice paffing quickly over the vowel to 
 the confonant ; but for the contrary reafon, the 
 words all, laid, bide, road, cube, are long, the ac- 
 cent being on the vowels, on which the voice 
 dwells fome time before it founds the confonants. 
 
 As no utterance can be agreeable to the ear, 
 which is void of proportion % and as all quantity, 
 or proportion of time in utterance, depends upon 
 a due obfervation of the accent ; it is a matter of 
 abfolute necefiity to all, who would arrive at a 
 
 good 
 
6x LECTURE m 
 
 good and graceful delivery, to be matter of that 
 point. Nor is the ufe of accent in our language 
 confined to quantity alone ; but it is alfo the chief 
 mark by which words are diftinguifhed from mere 
 fyllables. Or rather I may fay, it is the very ef- 
 fencc of words, which without that, would be only 
 fo many collections of fyllables. The efience of a. 
 fyllable confifts in articulation only, for every ar- 
 ticulate found of courfe forms a fyllable. The ef- 
 fence of a word comlfts in accent as well as articu- 
 lation. This will be made clear by an inftance» 
 If I pronounce the word ar-ti-cu-la-tion, in that 
 manner, without diftinguifhing any fyllable from 
 the refc, it is no longer a word, but a fucceffion of 
 fyllables ; but when I pronounce it articulation, 
 laying an accent en the fyllable la, that it is which 
 conftitutes a word, by uniting the preceding fylla- 
 bles, and the fubfequent one to itfelf. And with 
 refpect to monof/llables, all which can properly be 
 called words, are accented ; for the particles, whioh- 
 are unaccented, can difcharge their office perfectly 
 in their mere fyllabic flate ; they being in fact no- 
 thing more than fimple articulate founds to mark 
 the relation and difference between words, and arc 
 therefore better fitted for that office, by being 
 ibmewhat different from words, than if they were 
 of the fame clafs ; and indeed in their very name 
 of particles, this diilinclion feerns to have been in- 
 tended* 
 
 ! 
 
LECTURE III. 6y 
 
 tended. But when, -by being emphatical, they ob- 
 tain an accent, they then become words j not in 
 name only, but in fact ; as in that cafe" they ftand 
 in the room of words and difcharge their office. 
 
 It is true this manner of diftinguifhing words- 
 from-, mere fyllables is not neceiTary, nor the only 
 way by which it can be done. The Greeks we 
 know had another manner, which was that of dif- 
 tinguifhing them by a certain tone or note annex- 
 ed to each word, which under: their nice regula- 
 tions, mull have contributed to make their fpeech, 
 more mufical and pleafing to the ear, than that of, 
 any other nation in the world y and this was ac- 
 knowledged by the natives of all other countries 
 who vilited them, and even by the Romans them- 
 selves, in the height of their, glory. Nay it was 
 known that foreigners liftened to their orators 3r 
 though they did not underfland their language* 
 with as much pleafure as we do to Italian fingers ;, 
 from.: the mere delight they took, in the harmony 
 of their utterance. But as this is a method not 
 purfued by any of the moderns, excepting the Chi- 
 nefe, of whom we know but little, and a thing, 
 about which we can have but very obfcure ideas, it. 
 would anfwer no end to heftow any farther confid- 
 eration upon it. 
 
 The third way of diftinguifhing words from fyl- 
 lables, is by making a perceptible paufe at the end 
 
 of. 
 
64- LECTURE III. 
 
 of each word. This laft is the practice of many- 
 modern nations j but in languages that abound in 
 long fyllables, and whofe words are therefore often 
 compofed of fyllables of an equal length, this meth- 
 od of diftinguifhing them by perceptible paufes, 
 muft add to the tedioufneis, with which the ear is 
 difgufted by a fucceflion of long founds. 
 
 Some certain method of diirmguilhing words 
 from mere fyllables, muft evidently be one of the 
 firit fteps taken, in reducing language to any de- 
 gree of regularity ; and this can be done only by 
 one of the three ways before mentioned ; either by 
 affixing an accent to each word *, or a certain note 
 or "tone ; or a paufe at the end. The fecond meth- 
 od ufed. by the Greeks, has never been the prac- 
 tice of any part of Europe, and therefore it would 
 be but fruitlefs labour to. examine it. But it is 
 well worth the pains to enquire, whether the firft 
 ufed by us, or the latter by many other nations, is 
 in- its own nature beft j as it may turn our attention 
 to a point hitherto little confidered. and yet which 
 is one of the chief fourees of fuperjority that we 
 have over our neighbours; and one of the greater! 
 perfections of which our, language has to boaft. 
 But above all, becaufe the knowledge of this will 
 make every native of thefe kingdoms better ac- 
 quainted with the peculiar genius of our tongue, 
 and afford him one of the belt lights to guide him 
 to a juft and harmonious delivery. 
 
 Now 
 
XECTURE nr. 8$ 
 
 Now to compare thefe two ways of diftinguifb- 
 ing words, by accent, or by paufe ; firft with re- 
 gard to utility, and next to ornament. 
 
 With refpect to utility, it muft be allowed, that 
 the method of diftinguifhing words from mere fyl- 
 lables, which is the moft evident and precife, and 
 which takes up the leaf}: time, is beft. Now there 
 cannot be a more evident or precife diftindtion, 
 than that of accent*, nor one which can be execut- 
 ed with more eafe and certainty : it requires no 
 nicety of ear, as in the diftinguifhing of tones, or 
 meafuring tune ; it only demands that one fyllable 
 fliould have a greater ftrefs laid on it than others : 
 and the only difference is in laying the ftrefs on the 
 vowel or confonant, which is of courfe acquired by 
 natives, and by a proper method, might fbon be ob- 
 tained by others. But the diftinduon by paufes, 
 having reference to the meafurement of time, can 
 have no. certain rule in irregular difcourfe, and muft 
 depend upon the ear of each individual. We know 
 how difficult it is to obferve exactnefs of time in 
 the paufes of mufic, even with the a'fiiftance of rules 
 and marks ; how much more fo muft it be where 
 there are none ? And with refpecl to brevity, it 
 muft be evident, that the way of marking them, 
 which adds not at ail to their natural time, mu-ft be 
 preferable to that whofe very effence conflfts in tak- 
 ing up more time. In point) of ufe therefore accent 
 
 has 
 
€6 LECTURE HI. 
 
 ■has clearly the preference. Now let us consider 
 them with regard to ornament. 
 
 The ornament of fpeech, fo far as relates to 
 found, confifts in the pleafure which it gives the 
 ear. This is the refult of harmony •, and harmony 
 of proportion and variety, of tones and times. Now 
 as tones are here out of the queftion, let us, fee 
 which of thefe ways bids faireft for fixing a juft 
 meafurement of proportion, and agreeable variety 
 of times. 
 
 I have already mentioned that when the accent 
 is on the vowel, it of courfe makes the fyllable long ; 
 and when the. accent is on the confonant, the fylla- 
 ble may be either long or fhort, according to the 
 nature o£ the confonant, or will of the fpeakers. 
 And as the accent alone is a fufficient diftinction of 
 words, without paufmg longer at the end of them, 
 than at the end of a fyllable, excepting where the 
 fenfe requires it ; and as all unaccented Tyllables are 
 fhort, the quantity of our fyllables is adjufted by 
 the eafieft and fimpleft rule in the world, and in 
 the exacieft proportion. When vv r e confider too, 
 that this is effected by the very power which con- 
 stitutes words, and rendered manifeft by the fame 
 mark, which diftinguiflies words from mere fylla- 
 bles, it ought to firike us with admiration. It is a 
 maxim in mechanics, that the fewer and ilmpler the 
 principles are by which any machine is conftruct- 
 
 ed 
 
 ! 
 
LECTURE -III. 67 
 
 td to anfwer its end, the better ; and the fame will 
 hold here. 
 
 But in the manner of diftinguifhing words from 
 fyllables by longer paufes at their end, it will be ex- 
 tremely difficult, as was before obferved, to keep a 
 due proportion in that way. Some will be apt to 
 run their words too clofe together, and fo reduce 
 them to the ftate of fyllables^: or they will make 
 the paufes too long, which may confound the fenfe, 
 take up much unnecefTary time in difcourfe, and 
 produce a tedioufnefs very difgufting to the ear. 
 But fuppofing that a due medium could be observ- 
 ed, which is fcarce poflible at beft, and in general 
 is utterly impoffible, this method of diftinguifhing 
 words, mull, in its own nature, prevent any regu- 
 lar proportion of time being fettled, in the delivery 
 of fuch a language. For as the time of the paufe 
 muft be equal at the end of each word, and a$ 
 words are conftituted of different numbers of fylla- 
 bles, the diftance of thofe paufes from each other 
 muft depend wholly upon the inequality of the 
 words which compofe the fentences, and therefore 
 never can be reduced to any certain proportion. 
 If for inftance, a word of two fyllables is followed 
 by a monofy liable, and that- by a word of five fyl- 
 lables, all of the fame length ; the diftance of time 
 between the firft verbal paufe and the fecond, will 
 be as two to one ; and the diftance of time between 
 H the 
 
68 LECTURE HI. 
 
 the fecond and third, will be as one to five ; and 
 out of fuch unequal and uncertain proportions, no- 
 thing harmonious can be produced. 
 
 Another reafon, againfl ufing this method of dif* 
 tinguifhing words from fyllables by final paufes, is, 
 that paufes or flops of the voice, are chiefly ufed 
 to point out the connection and dependance which 
 words have on each other, by dividing fentences in- 
 to different members, according to their connection, 
 and marking that connection by different lengths 
 of paufes. Now if the fame method is taken to 
 diftinguifh words from each other, as is ufed to 
 diftinguifh the different members of fentences, it 
 will hardly be poflible to hinder their interefls 
 from clafliing, and producing confufion in the 
 meaning. And as the making ourfelves clearly 
 underftood, is the chief end of fpeech, the article 
 of perceptible paufes, or the flops of the voice, fo 
 effentially neceffary to that end, fhould be applied 
 to that ufe only. 
 
 As there are but the three ways before mention- 
 ed by which words can be diflinguifhed, either 
 one, or more of them mufl be adopted, by all who 
 aim at any regularity of utterance. If more than 
 one way be introduced, it will breed confufion, and 
 it will be impoffible to fettle any due proportion. 
 In the French language, I mean in the public de- 
 livery of it, where they aim at regularity, all three 
 
 arc 
 
LECTURE III. 69 
 
 are ufed on different occasions. Sometimes words 
 are diftinguifhed by perceptible paufes ; fometimes 
 by accents j fometimes by tones. This promifcuous 
 life of them is fubverfive of all harmony, and takes 
 off from the feveral powers of each in their diftincl: 
 provinces. Where a language abounds in words 
 compofed of fyllables equally long, they muft ap- 
 pear to be equally accented, and nothing can dif- 
 tinguifh them in that cafe but verbal paufes, or 
 tones ; the inconvenience of the former has been 
 already laid open, and if the latter are not fettled 
 by a mufical fcale, fo far as they prevail, they muft 
 render the found of the language difcordant to the 
 ear. Accent as a fure mark of diftinclion, can 
 only take place in fuch words as are compofed of 
 fhort fyllables, or of one long and the reft fhort. 
 This may be feen in every word of the Englifh km- 
 guage compofed of more fyllables than one j as no 
 vowel ever has its full long found unlefs it be ac- 
 cented. Thus in the word admire the i in the laft 
 fyllable being accented has its full long found; but 
 when by the addition of a fyllable, the feat of the 
 accent is changed, as in ad'mirable, the i is chang- 
 ed to a fhort one. The beft way of feeing clearly 
 the difference between the genius of the French 
 tongue and ours in this refpecl, will be to found a 
 number of words immediately borrowed from- them, 
 and fee m what the diverfity of pronunciation con- 
 
 fiftsl 
 
7o LECTURE III. 
 
 fifts. Such as abandon abandon, combat com'bat, 
 college college, commun com'mon, companion- 
 companion, Europe Europe, obftacle ob'ftacle, so- 
 llde fol'id, dodl:eur doctor, faveur favour, honeur 
 hon'our, &c. in moft of which words the fyllables 
 are all long in the French, and fhort in the En- 
 glish, as the accents are placed on the vowels in 
 the French and on the confonants in the Englifh. 
 
 o 
 
 This it is which makes moft of their words appear 
 to an Englifh ear to have as many accents as fyl- 
 lables, by obliging them to give an equal ftrefs to 
 them. And this would be our cafe alfo, even with 
 the fhort found of the vowels, if we were to reft 
 an equal time upon each fyllable, as they do : for 
 inftance, if inftead. of abandon we fhould fay a- 
 ban'-don, for coir/bat com'-bat, for com'mon com- 
 mon. But this amongft us would be evidently not 
 pronouncing words, but fyllables only, as children 
 do when learning to fpell. The efTence of Engliih- 
 words confuting in accent, as that of fyllables in 
 articulation. We know that there are as many 
 fyllables as we hear articulate founds, and as many, 
 words as we hear accents. So that if any one places 
 two equal accents, on the fame word, it founds to 
 our ear like two words. As if we fhould fay fortune 
 /inftead of fortune ; nature for nature ; hor'rours for 
 hor'rours ; battlement for battlement, &c. Who- 
 ever will attend to this point, will find, that no-* 
 
 thing 
 
lecture m: 71 
 
 thing is more common in public fpeakers, but par- 
 ticularly thofe of the ftage, than to commit this 
 fault ; and in this the peculiarity of what is called 
 theatrical pronunciation, chiefly confifts. Nor can 
 there be a greater fault in pronunciation than this,, 
 as it is an offence againft the conftitution of our 
 tongue 1 againft the fundamental rule upon which 
 the very eflence of our words depends ; and which 
 is fo univerfal, that there is not a fingie exception 
 to it, in our whole language, when the words are 
 properly pronounced. 
 
 Since therefore it muft be allowed, that in point 
 of utility, that method of diftinguifhing words from 
 fyllables, which is fhorteft, cleareft, and moft con- 
 ftant* (that is which admits of the feweft exceptions} 
 is the beft, I have already fhewn that all thefe qual- 
 ities belong to accent. It is fhorteft, becaufe it 
 renders all other fyllables fhort, which need only be 
 articulated and not dwelt upon ; and becaufe it puts 
 an end to the neceffity of verbal pauies, which need 
 be no longer than the fyllabic, the accent alone fii£- 
 ficiently diftihguifhihg words- It is cleared, be- 
 caufe the difdnclion muft be obvious to every one 
 who knows what an accent is, and he can never 
 miftake or doubt. And it is moft confbnt, for it 
 never admits of an exception, as every word has an 
 accent. 
 
 h 2 And 
 
72 LECTURE HI. 
 
 And as to harmony, or the fettling the quantity, 
 or proportion of fyllables to each other, in order to 
 produce metrical feet, there could not be devifed a 
 more eafy, clear, or certain method, than that of 
 doing it by the very fame rule, which points out 
 the distinction of words j fo that he who is mailer 
 of the one, of courfe becomes mailer of the other. 
 When we reflect too, that this is the fource from 
 which is derived the plenty of fhort fyllables, yet 
 in a proportional ratio to the long ones, in which, 
 refpect all modern languages (our own excepted) 
 are fo defective, as either to be wholly incapable of 
 numbers, or but ill adapted to them ; and that by 
 the variety of the feat of accent, our words eafily. 
 and naturally fall into all forts of metrical feet, it 
 mufl be acknowledged that in point of beauty and 
 elegance, we have as great advantage over other 
 tongues, by means of our ufe of the accent, as we 
 have in fhortnefs and dillinctnefs. 
 
 Nor is this all ; for by means of accent, the times 
 of paufes alfo are rendered quicker, and their pro- 
 portions more eafily to be adjufled and obferved. 
 Verbal paufes becoming unnecefTary, the fentential 
 only take place ; it follows of courfe, that the fmall- 
 efl fentential paufe need not be longer than what 
 would be neceiTary to a verbal one ; and confe- 
 quently one half lefs than where the others are-ufed: 
 for where verbal paufes take place^ the fmallefl fen- 
 tential 
 
LECTURE III. 73 
 
 tential paufe, to make a proportional diftinction g£ 
 one from the others mufi: be the double of the ver- 
 bal one, and the reft follow in that proportion ; 
 which muft occafion a dull and difguftmg tediouf- 
 nefs. For paufes having no real beauty in them- 
 felves, like tones, and being ufed through neceflit^ 
 only, in order to make the fenfe more clear, can- 
 not be too fhort, provided they fully anfwer that 
 end j therefore the meafure of the fmalleft paufe, 
 fhould be its manifeft perceptibility ; all additional 
 time beyond this, being unneceffary. And as the 
 only beauty, which can arife from paufes, mufi: de- 
 pend upon a due obfervation of proportion in their 
 duration, according as the different members which 
 compofe a fentence require ; the fewer in number, 
 the paufes are, the eaiier will it be to obferve that 
 proportion* Now where fentential paufes only 
 take place, they will be but four in number, as the 
 comma, femicolon, colon, and full flop. But if the 
 verbal paufe be admitted, there will be five, and a 
 much more difficult ratio introduced as I have al- 
 ready fhewn. Befides, as was before obferved, 
 where verbal paufes take place* it is impoffible any 
 regular proportion of time can be obferved, words 
 being formed of fuch different and unequal num- 
 bers of fyllables ; and over thefe the compofer has 
 no power : but it is not fo with regard to fentential 
 paufes 5 for as the ccnftruction of periods, or verf- 
 
 es, 
 
74 LECTURE HI.. 
 
 es, and their different members, depends wholly 
 upon the will of the eompofer, it is in his power to 
 make fuch a proportional ratio of the ftops, as al- 
 ways to produce harmony. 
 
 Thus far then no language can appear to be built 
 upon fimpler, eafier, or more regular principles. 
 All our thoughts are communicated in fentences ; 
 fentences are compofed of words and paufes ; words 
 are made up of fyllables, and fyllables of letters. 
 Sound is the effence of letters, articulation of fylla- 
 bles, accent of words, and collections of words uni- 
 ted by emphafis and divided by proper paufes, of 
 fentences. And accent at the fame time that it 
 eonftitutes words, fettles their quantity, and pre- 
 pares the way for due and proportional paufes* 
 Thus words, confidered as the marks of our ideas, 
 in the nature of coin, come from the mint with the 
 cleareft and plaineft ftamp ; and are fitted in the 
 beft manner, for a ready and brine circulation, in 
 the commerce of difcourfe. I mail now conclude 
 this head with a few practical rules for the Ariel: 
 obfervation of the laws of accent ; the neceffity of 
 which, I hope, is by this time apparent to all my 
 hearers. 
 
 All perfons who pronounce Englifh words prop- 
 erly, of courfe lay the accent right, as that is part 
 of pronunciation ; and never fail to do fo in con- 
 vention. But many, wJ&on they come to read or 
 
 fpeak 
 
LECTURE in. 75" 
 
 ipeak m public, tranfgrefs the rules of accent. This- 
 arifes from a miflaken notion in fome, that words- 
 are rendered more diftinct to a large afTembly, by 
 dwelling longer upon the fyllables which compofe 
 them ; and in others, that it adds to the pomp and 
 folemnity of public declamation, in which they 
 think every thing ought to be different from pri-. 
 rate difcourfe^ This has been chiefly the vice of 
 the ftage, and has principally given rife to the dis- 
 tinction of what is commonly called Theatrical De^ 
 clamation, in oppofition to that of the natural kind % 
 into an imitation of which many public fpeakers 
 have been betrayed* and their manner called on, 
 that account theatrical. Upon examination it- 
 would appear, that it arifes chiefly from- their dwell- 
 ing upon fyllables that are unaccented, through a, 
 notion that it makes the words move more flow, 
 ftately, and uniform, than- the quicker and more 
 fpirited accents will allow* This was- a fault which, 
 Shakefpear complained of in his time, and which 
 has not been thoroughly amended fince : though* 
 there have been fome late efforts, towards it, and 
 fome progrefs made in it. The paffage alluded to 
 in Shakefpear is in the advice given to the player 
 by Hamlet ; where in laying down rules for a juft 
 delivery, he fays, « Speak the.fpeech I pray you as: 
 « I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tougue \ 
 «*.but if you, mouth it, as fome of our a&ors do, I, 
 
 " had.. 
 
j<5 LECTURE ITT. 
 
 * had as lievc the town crier fpoke my lines." By 
 
 * trippingly on the tongue," he means the bound- 
 ing from accent to accent ; tripping along from 
 word to word, without refting on fyllables by the 
 way. And by mouthing, is meant, dwelling upon 
 fyllables that have no accent, and ought therefore 
 to be uttered as quickly as is confident with diftindl: 
 articulation ; or prolonging the founds of the ac- 
 cented fyllables, beyond their due proportion of 
 time. The leaft degree of faultinefs in this refpect, 
 gives an artificial air to language •, inafmuch as it 
 differs from the ufual, and what is commonly call- 
 ed, natural manner of utterance ; and is on that ac- 
 count, of ail others, to be avoided moft by public 
 fpeakers j whofe buflnefs it is induftricudy to con- 
 ceal art : and chiefly by players, whofe office it is, 
 hi Shakefpear's phrafe, « to hold, as it were, a mir- 
 " rour up to nature." It is true this vice does not 
 prevail fo much at prefent, as it has done in the 
 memory of many pcrfons now living ; when it was. 
 thought an impropriety, to have any thing refem- 
 bling real life, in the reprefentation of tragedy j 
 when men were neither to walk nor fpeak like hu- 
 man creatures ; and had "neither the accent of Chrlf 
 "tians nor the gait of Chriftians, Pagans or men." 
 Some indeed may fay, like the player in Hamlet, 
 "we hope we have reformed that indifferently 
 « amongft U s f to whom I mould reply in Ham- 
 let's, 
 
LECTUPvE IIL 77 
 
 let's words, " O reform it altogether j w and give 
 the fame earneft advice to all public fpeakers what- 
 foever *, not only, on account of the artificial air be- 
 fore mentioned which it gives to the utterance, but 
 alfo as It changes the very genius of our tongue, and 
 deprives it of that great fource of diftincmefs, and 
 proportion, which I have before explained. If any 
 one pronounces the words fortune, in--croac'h- 
 men't, conjecture, grati-tude, tomorrow, hap'pinefs, 
 patien N ce ; he does not utter words, at leaft not 
 Englifh words, but fyllables ; which with us, are al- 
 ways tied together by an accent ; as, for'tune, in- 
 croachment, conjec'ture, gratitude, tomorrow hap'- 
 pinefs, patience. And yet, this is an error, which 
 almoft all perfons who fpeak with folemnity, run 
 into, for want of knowing in what, true folemnity 
 of delivery confifts. Which, though it may de- 
 mand a flower utterance than ufual, yet, requires 
 that the fame proportion in point of quantity be ob- 
 ferved in the fyllables, as there is in mufical notes, 
 when the fame tune is played in quicker or flower 
 time. But of this I fhall have occafion to fpeak 
 more at large hereafter. 
 
 The only rule, with regard to this head, nece£ 
 fary to be obferved by all public fpeakers, who can 
 pronounce Englifh properly, is to lay the accent 
 always on the fame fyllable, and the fame letter of 
 
 the* 
 
7$ LECTURE in. 
 
 the fyllable, which they ufually do in common dif- 
 courfe, and to take care not to lay -any accent or 
 ffrefs, upon any other fyllable. A rule fo plain 
 and eafy, that nothing but affectation, or bad hab- 
 its, contracted from imitating others, can prevent its 
 always taking place. And yet the want of know- 
 ing, or attending to this rule, is one of the chief 
 fources, of the unnatural manner of declaiming, 
 which is fo generally complained of, though few 
 can tell exactly where the fault lies. 
 
 I fhall only add upon this head, that there are 
 few things in our language fo regular -and well fet- 
 tled, as the article of accent. It is true there are 
 fome words that have occaiioned many difputes 
 about the feat of the accent, and have had their 
 different partifans-j fuch as concordance or con- 
 cordance, refractory Or refractory, corruptible or 
 corruptible, accented Or ac'cented ; the accenting 
 of thefe being doubtful, every man is at liberty to 
 choofe which he likes heft ; and in giving the pre- 
 ference, the ear beyond all doubt ought to be con* 
 Anted, as to that which forms the moil agreeable 
 found x rather than an abfurd, pedantic rule, at- 
 tempted to be laid down, that of throwing the ac- 
 cent as far back as poilible ; which has no foun- 
 dation in the genius of our tongue, and muff fre- 
 quently produce the moft difcordant founds. And 
 
 if 
 
 
LECTURE III. 79 
 
 if any one who has the liberty of choofing, fhould 
 prefer the found of concordance, to concordance ; 
 refractory to refractor)'', or corruptible to corrup- 
 tive ; he cannot poilibly make any one form a bet- 
 ter opinion of his judgment, but I am fure he will 
 give thofe who have any fkill in founds a very bad 
 one of his ear* 
 
 LECTURE 
 
LECTURE IV. 
 
 OF EMPHASIS. 
 
 X jLAVING treated of Accent, I now pro- 
 ceed to consider the next head, that of Emphafis. 
 Emphafis, difcharges in fentences, the fame kind 
 of office, that accent does in * words. As accent 
 is the link which ties fyllables together, and forms 
 them into words ; fo emphafis unites words togeth- 
 er, and forms them into fentences, or members 
 of fentences. As accent dignifies the fyllable on 
 which it is laid, =and makes it more diftinguifhed 
 by the ear than the reft j fo emphafis ennobles the 
 word to which it belongs, and prefents it in a 
 ftronger light: to the underftanding. Accent is the 
 mark which diftinguifhes words from each other, 
 as fimple types of our ideas, without reference to 
 their agreement or difagreement : emphafis is the 
 mark which points out their feveral degrees of re- 
 lationfhip, and the rank which they hold in the 
 mind. Accent addrefTcs itfelf to the ear only ; 
 
 emphafis^ 
 
LECTURE IV, 8 r 
 
 cmphaiis, through the ear, to the underftanding. 
 Were there no accents, words would be refolved 
 into their original fyllables : were there no empha- 
 fis, fentences would be refolved into their original 
 words ; and in this cafe, the hearer muft be at the 
 pains himfelf, 1 firfr, of making out the words, and 
 afterwards their meaning. And as this could net 
 be done, without fuch length of paufes, at the end 
 of fentences and their feveral members, as would 
 allow him time to revolve in his memory the founds 
 which had been uttered, it would make the action 
 of liftening to difcourfe laborious and difguftingly- 
 tedious. Whereas by the ufe of accent and empha- 
 (is, words, and their meaning, being pointed out by 
 certain marks, at the fame time that they are ut- 
 tered, the hearer has all trouble faved, but that of 
 Hftening ; and can accompany the fpeaker at the 
 fame pace that he goes, with as clear a comprehen- 
 sion of the matter offered to his confideration, as 
 the fpeaker himfelf has, if the fpeaker delivers 
 himfelf well. 
 
 The neceffity of obferving propriety of emphafis 
 is fo great, that the true meaning of words cannot 
 be conveyed without it. For the fame individual 
 words, ranged in the fame order, may have feveral 
 different meanings, according to the placing of the 
 emphafis. Thus, to ufe a trite inftance, the fol- 
 lowing fentence ..may have as many different mean- 
 ings, 
 
82 LECTURE IV. 
 
 ings, as there are words in it, by varying the em- 
 phafis. Shall you ride to town to-morrow ?. If the 
 emphafis is on fhall, as fhall you ride to town to- 
 morrow ? it implies, that the perfon fpoken to had 
 expreffed before fuch an intention, but that there 
 is fome doubt in the queftioner, whether he be de- 
 termined on it or not, and the anfwer may be, 
 Certainly, or, I am not fure. If it be on you, as, 
 fhall you ride to town to-morrow ? the queftion 
 implies that fome one is to go, and do you mean 
 to go yourfelf, or fend fome one in your ftead ? 
 and the anfwer may be, No, but my fervant fhalh 
 If on ride, as> fhall you ride, &c. the anfwer may 
 be, No, I fhall walk, or go in a coach. If on town, 
 as fhall you ride to, tow^n to-morrow ? the anfwej 
 may be, No, but I mall ride to the foreft. If on 
 to-morrow, as, fhall you ride to town to-morrow ? 
 the anfwer may be, No, not to-morrow, but ths 
 next day. 
 
 As there is no pointing out the very meaning of 
 the words by reading, without a proper obfervar 
 tion of emphafis, it furely has been a great defect 
 in the art of writing, that there have been no 
 marks invented for fo neceiTary a purpofe ; as it re- 
 quires at all times, a painful attention in the reader 
 to the context, in order to be able to do it at all ; 
 and in many cafes, the moft fevere attention will 
 not anfwer the end ; for the eznphaiis is often to 
 
 be 
 
LECTURE IV. 83 
 
 foe regulated, not by the preceding part of the fen- 
 tence, but by the fubfequent one ; which frequent- 
 ly is fo long, that the motion of the eye, cannot 
 precede the voice, with fufficient celerity, to take 
 in the meaning in due time. The want of fuch 
 marks is no where fo ftrongly perceived as in the 
 general manner of reading the Church Service ; 
 which is often fo ill performed, that not only the 
 beauty and fpirit of the fervice is loft, but the very 
 meaning is obfcured, concealed, or wholly per- 
 verted. I have heard many clergymen, who did 
 not read one iingle fentence as it mould be, from 
 the beginning to the end ^ but I have known few 
 who were not guilty of many faults in omitting, or 
 mifplacing the emphafis. And on this account it is,- 
 that there is no composition in the Englifh tongue, 
 which is at all attended to, fo little underftood, in 
 general, as the Church Service, . This would be 
 obvious to any one, who would enter into a ferious 
 examination of the meaning of the fervice, and 
 compare it with the manner in which it is ufually 
 delivered. Inftances of impropriety might be fur- 
 nifhed.in abundance throughout the whole, but 
 to give a few even at the firft fetting out, I mean 
 in fome of the verfes from Scripture, that are read 
 before the exhortation. Upon examining their: 
 true meaning, my hearers will judge whether they 
 have ever heard that -meaning expreifed in the de- 
 - ' 1 2 livery. 
 
84 LECTURE IV. 
 
 livery. The ufual manner of reading the follow- 
 ing text, is this : 
 
 Enter not into judgement with thy ferVant, O 
 Lord, for in thy slight, mall no man living be jus N - 
 tified. 
 
 Here the words not, ferVant, slight, justified, 
 between which it is impoffible to find out any con- 
 nection,, or dependance of one on the other, are 
 principally marked. By thefe falfe emphafes the 
 mind is turned wholly from the main purport, and 
 drift of the verfe. Upon hearing an emphafis on 
 the particle not, it expects quite another conclufion 
 to make the meaning confident j and inftead of 
 the particle for, which begins the latter part of the 
 fentence, it would expect a but ; as, enter not into 
 judgement with thy fervant, O Lord, but regard 
 me with an eye of mercy. When it hears the em- 
 phafis on ferVant, it expects another conclufion. j 
 as, enter not into judgement with thy ferVant, O 
 Lord, but enter into judgement with thofe who 
 are not thy fervants. The fame alfo will be found 
 in the emphafes on the words fight, and juflified* 
 So that the fentence will feem to point at feveral 
 different meanings, and to have no eonfiftency. 
 But if it be read in the following manner, the mean- 
 ing and connection will be obvious : Enter not into 
 judgement with the fervant" O Lord" for in thy N 
 fight, ihall no man HVing be juftified. Here we 
 
 "fee 
 
LECTURE IV. 85 
 
 fee the whole meaning Is obvious, and that there 
 is- a great deal more implied, than the mere words 
 could exprefs, without the aid of proper emphafes. 
 Enter not into judgement with thy fervant, O 
 Lord — that, is, enter not, O Lord, into the feverity 
 of judgement with thy creature, — for in thy x fight, 
 — which is all-piercing and can fpy the fmalleft 
 blemifh— fhall no man hVing be juftified — no man 
 on earth, no not the beft fhall be found perfect, or 
 fufficiently pure, to ftand the examination, of the 
 eye of purity itfelf. — For in thY fight fhall no man 
 livHng be juftified. Upon this fentence thus pro- 
 nounced, the following beautiful paflage in . Job 
 may be a comment. 
 
 How then can man be juftified with God ? or 
 how can he be clean that is born of woman ? Be- 
 hold even to the moon, and it fhineth not ; yea 
 the ftars are- not pure in his fight. How much 
 lefs man, that is a worm 5 and the fon of man, 
 which i N s a worm. 
 
 The following verfe is generally pronounced in a 
 manner equally faulty. 
 
 If we fay that we have no fi v n, we deceive our- 
 felv v es, and the truth is not i v n us : but if we con- 
 fefs our fi v ns, He is faithful and juft to forgive us 
 our fi x ns, and to cleanfe us from all unrig v hteouf- 
 nefs. 
 
 "If 
 
8(5 LECTURE IV. 
 
 " If we fay that we hare no f?n," — Here by lay- 
 ing the ftrong emphafis on the word fay we are led 
 to a wrong meaning, as if we only faid it with our 
 lips, but did not think fo. How then can the con- 
 clusion follow of deceiving ourfelves ? We may de- 
 ceive others by faying what is falfe, but it is only^ 
 by thinking falfely we can deceive ourfelves. Which 
 is the true meaning of the words properly pro- 
 nounced. Tf we fay that we have no fTn, we de- 
 ceive ourfePves — that is, Tf there be any amongft 
 us, fo vainly blind to their own faults, as to ima- 
 gine they are without fin, they deceive themfelves. 
 This fentence is not an affirmative one, but con- 
 ditional. It does not fay that there are- any fuch 
 amongft us> but, If there be any fuch ; and there- 
 fore the conditional particle If is in this cafe em- 
 phatical. Tf we fay that we have no fTn we de- 
 ceive ourfelves — and the truth is not i N n us. Here 
 is another fault committed in laying the emphaiis 
 on the words Pn us only, whiLft the word truth, 
 which is the important one, is flightly pafTed over. 
 And the truth is not i x n us. That is, the opinion 
 entertained of ourfelves is falfe. This ftrong em- 
 phafis laid only on the words iVi us,, is the more 
 unpardonable in thofe who lay fuch an emphafis 
 on the word fay, becaufe it by no means follows 
 that the truth is not in us, becaufe we fay other- 
 wife 5 a man may think the truth, and fay the con- 
 trary ; 
 
LECTURE IV: 87 
 
 trary ; and this very phrafe proves the meaning of 
 the text as before explained, that it relates to think- 
 ing, not faying ; as it exprefsly fays the truth is not 
 in us, that is, we think falfely. 
 
 * But if we confefs our fi-ns"- — Here again the 
 falfe emphafis is laid on the word fins y whilft the 
 principal circumftance that of confe v fling our fins is 
 flightly pafTed over. But if we confeYs our fins, 
 — that is, if upon a thorough felf examination, af- 
 ter having difcovered our fins, we make an humble 
 acknowledgement of them, with a contrite hear* 
 filled with penitence, and a thorough defire and in- 
 tention of reforming ; (for all this is implied in the 
 word confers, as no other fort of confefiion can be 
 of any avail towards obtaining the confequential 
 grace promifed from it.) How emphatical there- 
 fore ought this word to be which implies fo much ! 
 
 There is another word in this fentence which is 
 hurried over as if it were a mere particle, when in 
 this place it is a word of ftrong import, I. mean the 
 word but. It is ufually read, but if we confefs our 
 fins, as if it were a mere disjunctive particle. 
 Whereas but in this fituation ftands in the place of 
 the words, on the other hand-, as may be feen by read* 
 ing the two members of the fentence and uniting 
 them by thofe words. 
 
 Pf we fay, that we have no fi N n, we deceive our- 
 CbHves, and the truth' is not Tn us j on the other 
 hand, if we confefs our fins — But 
 
tt LECTURE IV. 
 
 But — therefore ftanding in the place of words, 
 mould be made emph'atical, as all particles are when 
 they are fubftituted in the place of words. 
 
 But j if we ccnfefs our fhVs, he is faithful and jufV 
 to forgive us our fTns — Who is faithful and juft to 
 forgive us our fins ? Could any one conceive that. 
 it is the great God of the Univerfe, who is here* 
 fpoken of in . fo flight a way ! Throughout the 
 whole fervice indeed the awful name of God is 
 treated fo familiarly, and fo little diftinguifhed even 
 from any particle of three letters, as muft give great 
 offence to pious ears. It is faid of the great Robert: 
 Boyle, that he never mentioned the name of God, 
 even iri private difcourfe, without making a percep- 
 tible paufe after it. How much more would this 
 practice become thofe who are engaged in the fol- 
 cmu act of public worfhip, and how much would 
 it add to the folemnity of that worfhip ? In this 
 particular text, fome peculiar manner of diflin- 
 guifhing the relative, which ftands for the name 
 God, is more efientially neceffary, becaufe his name 
 was not before mentioned, and the fentence cannot 
 even be made {enfe without it. The pronoun He, 
 fliould therefore be made very emphatical, and 
 both be preceded, and fucceeded by a perceptible 
 paufe j at the fame time the eyes mould be devout- 
 ly raifed towards heaven, to explain and enforce 
 by the look, what is deficient in the expreffion. 
 
 Biuv 
 
lecture nr. 8 9 
 
 But, if we confefs our fins, w He" is faithful and juft 
 to forgive us our fi v ns, &c. Thefe laft words are 
 generally as improperly read 'as the reft. The chief 
 emphafis is here alfo often placed on the word fi v ns, 
 which not only marrs the fenfe, but produces a fad 
 cacaphonia, very difagreeable to the ear, by the 
 three fuccefiive emphafes on the word fins in the 
 fame fentence. As, "If we fay we have no fi N n, 
 we deceive ourfelves, and the truth is not in us \ 
 but if we confefs our fTns, He is faithful and juft 
 *o forgive us our fi v ns, &c." The want of laying 
 the proper emphafis on the word confefs^ in the 
 former part of the fentence, produces the fame 
 miftake in not laying it right on the word forgive 
 in the latter, as the one is a confequence of the 
 other. If we confeTs our fins, He will forgiVe 
 our fins. 
 
 The words, faithful and juf, by being hurried 
 over, lofe their whole force and import. When 
 properly pronounced, there is implied in them by 
 means of emphafis, that God has entered into a 
 covenant with man, that upon confefiion and re- 
 pentance he will forgive him his fins ; his faith and 
 juftice therefore are both engaged in the perform- 
 1 ance of this covenant. He" is faHthful, and ju v ft, 
 •to forgiv v e us our fins *, and to cieanfe us from all 
 >unrig x hteoufnefs. 
 
 v Here 
 
9 o rECTURE IV. 
 
 Here the emphafls on the word unrighteoufnefs, 
 is as unfortunately placed, as any of the others* 
 For the emphafis ought to be ftronger both on the 
 words cleanfe, and all j the meaning of the fGn- 
 tence being, That God, upon our confeffion and 
 penitence, will not only forgive our fins, but like- 
 wife cleanfe us, not from unrighteoufnefs only, but 
 from a v ll unrighteoufnefs. He will purify us entire- 
 ly, fo that no taint of our former fins -mall remain. 
 
 I fliall now read the text in the two ways, firft 
 in the ufual manner, and afterwards in what I ap- 
 prehend to be the right way, in order that the dif- 
 ference may be made more apparent. 
 
 If we &y that we have no f?n, we deceive our- 
 fe v lves, and the truth is not i v n us ; but if we con- 
 fefs our fTns, he is faithful and juft to forgive us 
 our fi v ns and to cleanfe us from all unrig^hteouf- 
 laefs. 
 
 Now in the other way. 
 
 Tf we fay that we have no f?n, we deceive our'- 
 felves, and the tru x th is not in us : But 7 , if we con- 
 fers our fins, "He" is faHthful, and ju v ft, to forgiVe 
 us our fins, and to clea v nfe us, from all unright- 
 eoufnefs. 
 
 Had there been proper marks invented for em- 
 phafis, fuch grofs errors could not have been com- 
 mitted. And many paffages in authors, are on that 
 account unintelligible to mofl readers. To give a 
 
LECTURE IV. 9 1 
 
 remarkable inftance of this, in the play of Mac- 
 beth. There is a paflage which, as it has been gen- 
 erally fpoken on the ftage, and read by moil peo- 
 ple, is downright nonfenfe ; which yet in itfelf is a 
 very fine one, and conveys an idea truly fublime. 
 I mean an exprelfion of Macbeth's after he has com- 
 mitted the murder, where he fays, 
 
 Will all great Neptune's -ocean wafh this blood 
 
 Clean from my hands ? No — thefe my hands will rather, 
 
 The multitudinous fea incarnardine, 
 
 Making the green one, red. 
 Now the laft line pronounced in that manner, call- 
 ing the fea, the green one, makes flat nonfenfe of 
 it. But if we read it with proper emphafis and 
 flop, and fay, making the green — o^ne red ; here 
 is a mod fublime idea conveyed, that his hands 
 dipped into the fea, would change the colour of the 
 whole ocean from green to red ; making the green 
 — o'ne red. Nor, if we confider the difturbed 
 ftate of his imagination at that time, will this 
 thought, hyperbolical as it may feem at firft view, 
 appear at all unnatural. For it is highly probable 
 that his fancy at that inftant prefented all objects 
 about him as of that fanguine hue j nay, converted 
 the very atmofphere that unrounded him, into a 
 fea of blood. 
 
 Particles whenever they are emphatical change 
 
 the meaning of the words from that which belongs 
 
 to them as pronounced in the common way. Thus 
 
 K if 
 
V 2 LECTURE IV. 
 
 if we read this line of Othello in the following 
 manner, 
 
 Put out the light, and then, put out the light ; 
 it is nonfenfe. But by marking the particle the 
 in the repetition of the fame words, a new idea and 
 a new meaning is prefented to the mind. 
 
 Put out the light, and then put out ibn light. 
 
 That is. the light of life, put in oppofition by force 
 •of this emphafis, to the light of the candle. 
 
 Or elfe the emphafis on particles introduces ac- 
 cefTary ideas not exprelTed in the words ; or marks 
 the degrees of emotion better than it could be done 
 otherwife. Of the hrft we have an infhnce in 
 ihefe lines of Tamerlane : 
 
 Can'ft thou believe thy prophet, or what's more 
 That power fupf eme that made thee anM thy prophet. 
 Under this emphafis on the particle anM, is couch- 
 ed the following meaning ; « this prophet whom 
 thou worfhippefr., and to whom thou payeft the 
 chief honours, was only a creature like thyfelf, 
 made by the fame Almighty Being, and fubjecr. to 
 the fame laws." Of the other we have an inftance 
 in this line of Othello : 
 
 Perdition catch my foul but I do loVe thee. 
 This is the ufual way of pronouncing that line, by 
 which its peculiar beauty and force is loft. But 
 when it is repeated thus, 
 
 Excellent wench ! 
 Perdition catch my foul but I do love thee ; 
 
 the 
 
LECTURE IV. 93 
 
 the emphafis on do, marks the vehemence of his 
 affection, much better than any emphafis on the 
 verb love could. For when the emphafis is laid 
 on the verb love, do, becomes a mere expletive, be- 
 ing an unneceftary fign of the prefent tenfe. But 
 when an emphafis is placed on do } it becomes an 
 auxiliary verb, fignifying an acT: of the ftrongeft 
 affirmation. 
 
 Emphafis is of two kinds ; fimple or complex. 
 Simple, when it ferves only to point out the plain 
 meaning of any proposition : complex? when be- 
 sides the meaning, it marks alio fome afie&ioil or 
 emotion of the mind •,. or gives a meaning to words, 
 which they would not have in their ufual accepta- 
 tion, without fuch emphafis. In the former cafe, 
 emphafis is little more than a ftronger accent with 
 but little change of tone j when it is complex, be- 
 fides force, there is always fuperadded a manifeft 
 change of tone. Simple emphafis belongs to the 
 calm and compofed understanding ; complex, to 
 the fancy and the paflions. 
 
 By means of emphafis what pafies in the mind 
 is often fhewn in a few words, which otherwife 
 would require great circumlocution. Of which 
 take the following inftance from the play of All 
 for Love. 
 
 the fault was mine 
 
 To place thee there, where only, Thou, could'ft fail 
 
 In 
 
i a 
 
 94 LECTURE IV. 
 
 In this fcene Anthony, having found out that 
 friend Dolabella, whom he had employed on 
 commiffion to Cleopatra, inftead of difcharging the 
 truft repofed in him, had fuffered his own paffion 
 for that dangerous beauty fo far to prevail, as to 
 give up his friend's caufe, and urge his own love 
 fuit to her ; at firfb upbraids Do'abella in the bit- 
 tereft terms for his treachery. But afterwards 
 when he cools a little, and his affection for his 
 friend begins to revive, he palliates the fault of 
 Dolabella, and takes the blame to himfelf, by re- 
 flecting on the bewitching power of Cleopatra's 
 charms, and that he fhould not have expofed his 
 friend to a temptation fo irrefiftible. Now let us fee 
 how much more there is implied in thofe words* 
 to be conveyed by the force of emphafis, than 
 could be if the words were uttered without it. 
 
 the fault was mine 
 
 To place thee there 
 
 To place thee in fo dangerous a fituation ; to give 
 you an opportunity of a private interview with a 
 woman of fuch fafcinating charms. 
 
 where on^ly ■• — 
 
 The fingle fituation in the world in which 
 
 Thou — — 
 
 Thou who wert my bofom friend ; thou whole per- 
 fect: honour and fidelity I have approved through- 
 out our whole courfe of friendfhip on all other oc- 
 qafioiis, 
 
 mmwm COtliM'ft fail. 
 
 could'fi; 
 
LECTURE. IV. 95 
 
 isouIcPft poffibly have been found deficient tn friends 
 fhip or in duty. 
 
 It is this latter ufe of emphaiis chiefly that gives 
 life and fpirit to difcourfe, and enables it to pro- 
 duce its nobleft effects. By this it is that we have 
 it in our power not only to make others conceive 
 our ideas as we conceive them, but to make them 
 alfo feel them, as we feel them. By the ufe of 
 fimple emphaiis, truths may be conveyed, and the 
 underftanding enlightened, if the hearer will be at 
 the pains of commanding his own attention. But 
 by the ufe of the complex kind, the affections and 
 paffions are excited, the fancy agitated, and the 
 attention of the hearer engaged by the delight 
 which accompanies the very act of attending. In 
 the former, the mind is for the moft part paffive 5 
 a ftate in which it cannot long remain, with fatif- 
 faction to itfelf. In the other its activity rs roufed, 
 and it is confcious of that activity, without any la- 
 bour of its own \ which is one of the molt agree- 
 able ftates, that can be conceived, to the human- 
 mind, 'made up as it is of reftleimefs and indolence. 
 The mind thus conftituted, grows equally weary of 
 an inactive ftate, or of much labour of its own % 
 •but delights in being exercifed at the expence of 
 the labour of others. And this is one of the chief 
 •reafons,. that dramatic reprefentations have ever held 
 the fir ft rank amongft the diverfions ef mankind, 
 K % from 
 
9 6 LECTURE IV. 
 
 from the effects which thofe of the beft kind pro- 
 duce, as defcribed by Horace : 
 
 ■ — pe&us inaniter angit, 
 
 Irritat, mulcet, falfisterroribus implet 
 Ut magus, &c. 
 
 And on the fame account the powers of oratory are 
 reckoned amongft the nobleft that belong to hu- 
 man nature, and productive of the higheft delight 
 that the mind can receive. But as the powers of 
 oratory cannot be at all exerted without the ufe of 
 emphaiis j nor the paffions of the hearers be rouf- 
 ed, or their minds interefted in what is offered to 
 them, without the ufe of the complex kind, what 
 a pity it is that fo little care is taken about fo im* 
 portant an article in reading. For the right ufe of 
 which there is neither any method known, nor 
 rules laid down in our courfe of education; which 
 is the chief reafon that public reading is in general 
 fo difgufting, and public fpeaking fo unaffecting. 
 Whereas nothing would be more eafy than to in- 
 ftruct children in the moft perfect ufe of emphafis, 
 complex as well as Ample, at the fame time that 
 they learn to read, and to make the fame progrefs 
 in the one, as in the other. The yet uncorrupt 
 ear, and the flexible organs of fpeech, would be ca- 
 pable of receiving, diflinguifliing, and uttering all 
 the variety of tones in their juft proportions, in 
 the fame manner as in iinging ; were there but 
 
 preceptors 
 
LECTURE IV. 9T 
 
 preceptors equally qualified to teach them- by rules* 
 examples, and practice. 
 
 With regard to fimple emphafis, it is certain 
 that every man, who clearly comprehends what he 
 fays in private difcourfe, never fails to lay the em- 
 phafis on the right word ; when therefore he is 
 about to read, or repeat the words of others, or his 
 own, in public, let him only reflect on the place, 
 where he would lay the emphafis, fuppofing thefe 
 words had proceeded from the immediate fenti- 
 ments of his own mind, in private difcourfe ; and 
 he will have an infallible rule of laying the fimple 
 emphafis right, in all fentences, whofe meaning he 
 clearly comprehends. This rule is fb obvious, and 
 fb eafy to be obferved, that it is aftonifhing to find 
 every where, both in reading and reciting, fuch an 
 abufe or neglect of emphafis. But the caufe of this 
 is eafily explained. In teaching to read by the 
 eye, maimers infcruct pupils in the ufe of fuch marks 
 as are prefented to the eye ; now as there are no 
 vifible figns but letters and flops, and as the words 
 are diftinguifhed from each other, only by a greater 
 diftance between them than between the letters 
 which compofe them ; and the different members 
 of fentences, by little crooked figures \ the eye has 
 no afliftance in the two moft important parts of 
 reading, accent and emphafis •, and therefore in 
 thofe it is, that the chief blunders are committed. 
 
 It 
 
98 LECTURE IV. 
 
 It is true, whoever is told that he is always to pro- 
 nounce his words exactly with the fame accent 
 that he fpeaks them, provided he be mafter of the 
 right pronunciation, need not have any vifible 
 mark to point out the accent ; but even this eafy 
 rule is fo feldom inculcated, that there are few free 
 from errors in this refpect ; efpecially when they 
 attempt to read or recite any thing with mere than 
 ufual folemnity and pomp. But with refpect to 
 emphafis, it is impoflible to lay it right, unlefs a 
 'man firft has clearly comprehended the meaning of 
 what he is about to read : and as this is difficult to 
 be done at fight, after long practice and experience, 
 even by the beft readers ; nay, as it is impoflible 
 for them to do; it without fome errors, and never 
 with the fame degree of accuracy, as after a-perufal 
 •of what they are to read aloud, how much lefs are 
 we to expect it from fuch as are learners, even un- 
 der the beft instruction ; but leaft of all from thofe 
 who are taught in fuch a method, as does not 
 make this a neceffary part of reading. I appeal to 
 the experience of mankind, whether in general, 
 •any thing elfe be taught, but the pronunciation of 
 words and obfervation of the flops y and whether 
 any one, who can readily give utterance to all 
 words offered to the eye, and put them together, 
 or feparate them, accordingly as the ftops direct, 
 does not think himfelf qualified to read any thing 
 
 aloud 
 
LECTURE IV. 95> 
 
 aloud at fight, fo as readily to undertake it in the 
 hearing of any perfons when called upon ?■ All this 
 arifes from a miftake, which men naturally enough 
 fall into, who judge of language only in its written 
 ftate ; that fentences are wholly compofed of words 
 and ftops, becaufe there are no other vifible marks 
 offered to the eye; but the man who confiders 
 language in its primary and nobleft ftate, as offered 
 to the ear, will find that the very life and foul of 
 fpeech, confifts in what is utterly unnoticed in writh- 
 ing, in accent and emphafis : and as the man who 
 attempts to pronounce words, without obfervation 
 of accent, really does not utter words, but fylla- 
 bles ; fo the man who attempts to pronounce fen- 
 tences, without emphafis, really does not utter fen- 
 tences, but words. So that in fpeech, words are 
 the body ; paufes and ftops give it fhape and form, 
 and diftinguim the feveral parts of the body ; but 
 accent and emphafis are the life, blood, and foul> 
 which put it in motion, and give it power to act. 
 And as nothing can be more tedious to the ear, or 
 irkfome to the mind, than a long fucceflion of 
 mere lifelefs words, we need not wonder that our 
 public readers and reciters, fo inftrucled, are either 
 {o little attended to, or heard with difguft. 
 
 I would therefore recommend it to every one, 
 who has any thing to read or recite in public, to 
 reflect in what manner and with what kind of em- 
 phafis, 
 
 v. 
 
too LECTURE IV. 
 
 phafis, he would point out the meaning, if he were 
 to deliver thofe words, as proceeding from the im- 
 mediate fentiments of his own mind. With this 
 point in view, he cannot fail of finding out the 
 words, on which, in that cafe, he would lay the 
 emphafis. Let him therefore give a particular mark 
 to thofe words, fuch as one of the accents ufed in 
 Greek ; that whenever he reads, he may be put in 
 mind of laying a due ftrefs on them, by thofe viii- 
 ble marks j otherwife he will be apt, from habit, 
 to fall into his ufual manner of reading. And in 
 every recital, when the words are well fixed in the 
 memory, let the chief article of attention be, to lay 
 the ftrefs upon- thofe words only, which he had be^ 
 fore fo marked. And this I take to be the furefl 
 and beft way of counteracting bad habits, arifing 
 from the very defective method, in which we are 
 taught and practifed in the manner of reading aloud 
 and reciting. 
 
 If it be faid, that though in reading or reciting 
 the works of others, men may be apt to make mis- 
 takes in the article of emphafis, yet when they de- 
 liver compofitions of their own, or fpeak their ex- 
 temporaneous fentiments in public, it- is impoffible 
 they can be guilty of any fuch error, I believe up- 
 on examination the matter of fact would be found 
 ftrongly againft this opinion. For I have known 
 few authors, and many inftanees have fallen in my 
 
 way,, 
 
LECTURE IV. ros 
 
 way, who did not read their own compofitions ex- 
 actly in the fame way as they would thofe of any 
 other writer ; excepting perhaps their doing it with 
 .more emotion, and thereby rendering any abfurdi- 
 ty in their manner the more glaring. And with 
 refpecl to extemporaneous fpeaking in public, I 
 have not known many inftances in my life in which 
 the artificial manner, got from a bad habit of read- 
 ing, or imitations of others, has not fupplanted the 
 natural manner of fpeaking *, and even in the beft, 
 their delivery has in many parts been much affect- 
 ed by it. The man is apt to harangue his fellow 
 citizens, much in the fame way, as the boy was 
 accuftomed to recite before his fchool-feliows j un- 
 lefs where nature breaks through the force of hab- 
 it, when the heart of the fpeaker is much engaged, 
 in his fubjecl:, -and. when he delivers himfelf whol- 
 ly from feeling. 1 have known fome infhtnces of 
 this kind in reciting alfo on the ftage, where the 
 fame performers, who in the unimpamoned and 
 ^declamatory paffages of their characters, were gen- 
 erally wrong in laying the emphafis; whenever 
 they entered into the more animated parts, and 
 , the paflion which they reprefented took full pof- 
 feffion of them, were always right in that article. 
 If the ufe of the fimple emphaiis, Which has fo 
 plain, general, and certain a rule to point it out, be 
 yet fo miftaken, what {hall we fay to that of the 
 
 complex 
 
to2 LECTURE IV. 
 
 complex kind j which is infinitely more compre- 
 henfive, intricate, and difficult ; and yet is utterly 
 without either rules or examples, to point out its 
 true ufe ? Though this is one of the moft impor- 
 tant branches of delivery, fince the power of ani- 
 mating and affecting the hearers, depends much 
 upon it. As words are marks of ideas, fo are tones 
 of energies and affections of the mind ; and as we 
 cannot make known our ideas to others, without a 
 fufficient number of words, to mark, not only their 
 difference in grofs from each other, but alfo the 
 nicer diftinCtions of degrees in the fame idea, to- 
 gether with their various relations ; fo cannot we 
 manifeft or communicate to others the feveral feel- 
 ings of the mind, in conceiving and uttering its 
 ideas, and the various proportions of thofe feelings, 
 without a fuitable number, and equally regular and 
 nice diftin&ion of tones. But here art has entire- 
 ly deferted us, and left us to guide ourfelves as well 
 as we can. And indeed all her exertions feem to 
 have been confined within the bounds of written 
 language, where fhe has the faithful eye to guide 
 her by fure and fixed marks ; nor has fhe, hither- 
 to amongft us, dared to make any excurfions into 
 the more extenfive and nobler provinces of fpoken 
 language, the ways through which are to be found 
 only by the information of the uncertain ear, which 
 if not well inftructed, and early cultivated, muft 
 
 ever 
 
LECTURE IV. 103 
 
 ever prove a falfe guide. Hence it comes to pafs, 
 that words, as marks of our ideas, are tolerably well 
 regulated, and reduced to order ; whilft tones, the 
 marks of our feelings, are left wholly to chance. 
 The natural confequence of which has been that 
 many difcourfes, good in themfelves, are pronoun- 
 ced without affecting the hearers ; and that in a 
 nation abounding in good writers, a good fpeaker 
 is a prodigy. But of this I fhall have occafion to 
 fpeak more at large under the head of Tones. At 
 prefent I fhall content myfelf with clofing this 
 head, by laying down the only rule, which appears 
 to me to be of any considerable benefit in practice, 
 towards making the beft ufe that can be, as things 
 are now circumftanced, of the complex emphafis. 
 And that is directly the fame rule before laid down 
 with regard to the fimple emphafis ; that every one 
 mould content himfelf with the ufe of thofe tones 
 only that he is habituated to in fpeech, and to give 
 none other to emphafis, but what he would do to 
 the fame words in difcourfe. Thus whatever he 
 utters will be done with eafe, and appear natural $ 
 whereas if he endeavours at any tones, to whicfy 
 he is not accuftomed, either from fancy, or imita- 
 tion of others, it will be done with difficulty, and 
 carry with it evident marks of affectation and art, 
 which are ever difgufting to the hearer, and never 
 fail to defeat the end of the fpeaker, 
 
 L LECTURE 
 
LECTURE V. 
 
 OF PAUSES, OR STOPS. 
 
 A HE next head of which I am to treat, 
 is that of Paufes, or Stops. 
 
 Stops, or paufes, are a total cerTation of found 
 during a perceptible, and in numerous composi- 
 tions, a meafurable fpace of time. The ufe of 
 thefe is equally neceiTary to the fpeaker, and to the 
 hearer. To the fpeaker, that he may take breath, 
 without which he cannot proceed far in delivery •, 
 and that he may relieve the organs of fpeech, by 
 thefe temporary refls, which otherwife would be 
 foon tired by continued and uninterrupted action : 
 to the hearer, that the ear alfo may be relieved 
 from the fatigue, which it would otherwife endure 
 from a continuity of found -, and that the under- 
 standing may have fufficient time to mark the dis- 
 tinction of fentences, and their feveral members. 
 Thefe paufes being thus necefTary and ufeful, be- 
 come ornamental alfo in verfe, when reduced to 
 
 exact 
 
LECTURE V. 105 
 
 exact proportions of time, in the fame way as in 
 mufic. 
 
 But as in common difcourfe, and in moft com- 
 pofitions in profe, there is no neceffity to obierve 
 fuch nice proportion of paufes, they have, befides 
 their duration, marks of a furer kind annexed to 
 them, to point out their nature ; and thefe are, 
 certain notes of the voice, which declare of what 
 kind the paufes are, at the inftant they are made •, 
 and inform the mind what it is to expecl: from 
 them •, whether the fenfe is ftill to be continued in 
 the fame fentence ; whether the fucceeding one is 
 to be the laft member of the fentence ;■ whether 
 more are to enfue ; or whether the fentence be 
 clofed, and a new o»e is to begin. 
 
 The great utility of this practice will appear, 
 when we consider how neceffary it is that the hear- 
 er mould be able to accompany the fpeaker in all 
 that he utters, fo as fully to comprehend his mean- 
 ing ; and therefore he mould be fpared the trouble 
 of attending to any thing elfe, but his meaning. 
 Now if paufes had no other mark of diftinclion, 
 but the time of their duration, it is evident that not 
 only the fpeaker, muft always be exceedingly nice, 
 in obferving the exacteft proportion of time, with 
 regard to the different paufes, (a thing fcaree prac- 
 ticable in irregular difcourfe) but the hearer alfo, 
 muft employ his whole attention, during thofe 
 
 paufesj, 
 
io6 LECTURE V. 
 
 paufes, in meafuring their exact duration, without 
 which he muft miftake their nature *, a thing equally 
 impracticable, or which if attempted, muft by this 
 diffraction of the attention, do great injury to the 
 principal point in view, a full conception of the 
 meaning. Whereas, when the nature or kind of 
 paufe, is declared at its beginning, by the fure mark 
 of a note or tone of the voice, it matters not after- 
 wards to the hearer, whether the fpeaker obferves 
 any due proportion of time or not ; for he is at 
 that inftant prepared to accompany hiin, whenever 
 he pleafes to fet out ; whether it be fuddenly, or 
 whether he choofes to delay longer than is necerTary. 
 For he knows by the tone what the paufe fhould 
 be, whether the fpeaker obferTes the due propor- 
 tion of time or not. 
 
 It is true in poetical compositions, the fkilful ear 
 will- not be fatisiied, without a due obfervation of 
 the proportion of paufes, as well as founds ; but it 
 h becaufe in that cafe, it has a right to be pleafed 
 itielf, at the fame time that it is the inftrument of 
 conveying the meaning to the understanding, and 
 its dilguft arifes from the difappomtment. But the 
 interefts of the understanding- receive no farther 
 prejudice, the notes or tones ftill proving fure guides 
 to the fenfe, than what may arife from want of at- 
 tention, occasioned by fuch difguft of the ean 
 
 But 
 
LECTURE V; 107 
 
 But in all fpeeches and harangues that are more 
 loofe, and free from the fetters of meafure, this cir- 
 cumftance has given the fpeaker fuch a power over 
 the paufes, as, judicioufly ufed, may contribute 
 much to the main point in view, that of itrongly 
 inculcating his meaning. For by this means, he 
 may always proportion his paufes to the importance 
 of the fenfe, and not merely to the grammatical 
 ftrutture of words in fentences, making like paufes 
 to all of like ftructure, without diftinction. For in- 
 ftance, if there be any proportion or fentiment 
 which he would enforce more firongly than the 
 reft, he may either precede it by a longer paufe 
 than ufual, which will roufe attention, and give it 
 the more weight when it is delivered ; or he may 
 make a longer paufe after it is clofed, which will 
 give time for the mind to ruminate upon it, and let 
 it link deeper into it by fuch reflection ^ or accord- 
 ing to the importance of the point, he may do both. 
 He may go ftill farther, and make a paufe before 
 fome very emphatical word, where neither the fenfe 
 nor common ufage would admit of any ', but this 
 liberty is to be ufed with great caution. For as 
 fuch paufes excite uncommon attention, and of 
 courfe raife expe&ation, if the importance of the 
 matter be not fully anfwerable to fuch expectation, 
 it will occaiion difappointment and difguft. This 
 liberty therefore is to be feidom taken, and never 
 L 2 but 
 
io3 LECTURE V. 
 
 but where fomething extraordinary and new is of- 
 fered to the mind, which is likely to be attended 
 with an agreeable furprife. For paufes of this fort 
 put the mind into a ftate of fufpenfe, which is ever 
 attended with an uneafy fenfation, and for which it 
 will always expect to have compenfation made, by 
 a greater degree of pleafitre, than it otherwife could 
 have had 1 . 
 
 But in the ufe of the tones which mark the pauf- 
 es, great care muft be taken to avoid thofe two ar- 
 tificial tones, with which every one is taught to 
 read *,. the bad effects of which I need not now ex- 
 patiate on, having fhewn them at. large in my firft 
 lecture. And as this is one of the chief fources of 
 the difgufting monotony, and unnatural manner of 
 delivery, which is {o generally complained of in our 
 public readers and fpeakers, too much pains cannot 
 be taken to get the better of it. The truth is, that 
 the tones which mark the paufes in fpeaking, have 
 an infinite variety, according to the matter of the 
 difcourfe, and difpofition of mind in the fpeakerj 
 whereas thofe in reading, as. I mewed before, are 
 reduced to two* I would therefore recommend it 
 to every perfon who has any thing to deliver in 
 public, to make ufe of the fame rule for his guide 
 with regard to the tones belonging to the flops, as 
 was before laid down with regard to. thofe apper- 
 taining to the complex emphafis, and for the fame 
 
 reafons j 
 
 
LECTURE V. 1C9 
 
 reafons ; becaufe he is matter of thefe, he will do.. 
 it with eafe *, his delivery will appear natural, and 
 free from all' marks of affectation. 
 
 By means of thefe tones that mark the' paufes > 
 readers may at any time, when they find it necef- 
 fary, take breath even at the fmalleft paufe, with* 
 out prejudice to the fenfe ; as the tone nifficiently 
 marks the nature of the paufe, without reference 
 to time : but in this, care is to be taken by the 
 fpeaker, that the true tone be given to the- paufe at 
 the time it is made, for thus the hearer will have 
 notice that the fentence is not clofed, and his at- 
 tention is only fufpended, without perplexing his 
 underftanding. And he may have a fure rule for 
 ufing the true tone, by giving exactly the fame one 
 that he would, were he to proceed more quickly to 
 the next member of the fentence, and were not to 
 make a longer ftop than ordinary. The want of 
 knowing this cicumftance, or rather the falfe rule 
 by which people are inftructed, that the breath is 
 never to be drawn but when; there is a full ftop or 
 clofe of the fenfe, has made it exceedingly difficult 
 to many to utter long fentences, and impoffible to 
 thofe who are fliort winded.. They are therefore 
 either apt to run themfelves entirely out of breath, 
 (which is always difagreeable^ deftroying all force 
 and grace) and not to ftop till neceffity obliges 
 them to it from failure of breath \ which is there* 
 
 fore 
 
no LECTURE V. 
 
 fore likely to happen in improper places : or elfe 
 they fubdivide the long fentence into as many dis- 
 tinct Sentences, as they make times of breathing, 
 to the utter confufion of the fenfe. For as they 
 have been taught not to take breath, but when they 
 make a full flop, they habitually ufe the tone of a 
 full flop whenever they take breath. It is of as 
 much importance to a Speaker, that he Should have 
 at all times a Sufficient command of breath, as that 
 an organ mould be Supplied with a proper quantity 
 of air •, nothing therefore can be of more moment 
 to him, than the practice of the rule which I have 
 laid down, as it will enable all who do not labour 
 under Some great infirmity in point of breathing, 
 to go through the longefl periods, without any 
 perceptible defeat of that kind. 
 
 There is no article in reading more difficult than 
 that of obServing a due proportion of flops, occa- 
 sioned by the very erroneous and inaccurate man- 
 ner, in which they are marked by printers and 
 writers. Stopping, like Spelling, has at different 
 periods of time, and by different perfons, been con- 
 fidered in a great meafure as arbitrary, and has had 
 its different fafhions •, and thefe fafhions have been 
 Spread, and become general, by being adopted by 
 the printers moft in vogue. The art of punctuation 
 is of modern invention, and probably was not 
 known, previous to the difcovery of printing, at 
 
 leaft 
 
LECTURE V. nr 
 
 lea ft we are fure that the ancients made not any 
 ufe of flops in their writing. A plain proof of 
 what I afTerted in my firfl lecture, that the art of 
 writing amongfl the ancients, was not calculated for 
 the ufe we put it to, of reading works aloud to au- 
 ditors, but only to enable the fpeaker to get the 
 words by rote, in order that he might recite them 
 from memory. And happy had it been for the flate 
 of modern elocution, that the art had flill remain,- 
 ed unknown y for then every one who had any 
 thing to deliver in public, mull, like the ancients, 
 have been obliged either to recite it without book, 
 or apply himfelf clofely to fludy the meaning of 
 what he had to read, fo as to be able to deliver it 
 properly. Nor mould' we then have had thofe read- 
 ing tones, before mentioned, which have been an» 
 nexed to the flops ; nor thofe falfe paufes and refls 
 of the voice, which have been introduced by falfe 
 punctuation ; but every one, having no rules to 
 mifguide him, would of courfe follow the obvious 
 one, that of reading words as he would fpeak them. 
 It is evident that to mark the flops properly in- 
 writing, every perceptible cefTation of found in the 
 voice ought to have a mark ; but this is far from 
 being the cafe in the prefent practice of punctuation, 
 continual inflances occurring, where the voice ought 
 to be fufpended, without any comma appearing ^ 
 »nd inflances as frequent, where commas are put 
 
 dowa 
 
riz- LECTURE V. 
 
 down in places where there ought to be no fufpen- 
 fion of the voice. The truth is, the modern art 
 of punctuation was not taken from the art of fpeak— 
 ing, which was never ftudied by the moderns, but 
 was in a great meafure regulated by the rules of 
 grammar ; that is, certain parts of fpeech are kept 
 together, and others divided by ftops, according 
 to their grammatical conftruction, often without 
 reference to the paufes ufed in difcourfe. And the 
 only general rule by which paufes can be regulated, 
 has been either unknown, or unattended to ; which 
 is, that paufes in general depend upon emphafis. 
 I have already friewn that words are fufficiently 
 diflinguifhed from each other by accent ; but to 
 point out their meaning when ranged in fentences, 
 emphafis and paufes are necefTary. Accent is the 
 link which connects fyllables together, and forms 
 them into words j emphafis is the link which con- 
 nects words together, and forms them into mem- 
 bers of fentences j but that there may be no miftake 
 to which emphafis the words belong, at the end of 
 every fuch member of a fentence there ought to be 
 % perceptible paufe. If it be afked why a paufe 
 Should be any more necefTary to emphafis than to 
 accent, or why emphafis alone will not fufficient- 
 ly diftinguifh the members of fentences without 
 paufes, as accent does words from each other -, , the 
 anfwer is obvious^ that we are pre-acquainted with 
 
 the 
 
LECTURE V. 113 
 
 the founds of the words, and cannot miftake them 
 when diftinclly pronounced, however rapidly ; but 
 we are not pre-acquainted with the meaning of 
 fentences, which muft be pointed out to us by the 
 fpeaker *, and as this can only be done by evidently 
 ihewing what words belong to the emphatic one, 
 -unlefs we make a paufe at the end of the laft word 
 belonging to the former emphatic one, we fhall not 
 be able to know at all times whether the interme- 
 diate words between two emphatic ones, appertain 
 to the former or the latter •, which muft breed a 
 perpetual eonfufion in the fenfe. This will be fuf- 
 ikiently illuftrated by two of the examples given 
 in my former upon emphafis : for in the line quot- 
 ed from Macbeth, had they placed a comma at the 
 end of the word green, as thus ^ 
 
 Making the green, one red ; 
 the fenfe could not have been miftaken. And had 
 they placed three commas in the line quoted from 
 All for Love, as thus ; 
 
 To place thee there, where only, thou, could'ft fail ; • 
 the full import of the paffage would have been at 
 once perceived. Whoever therefore has a mind to 
 read any piece correctly, muft flop according to this 
 rule. Let him firft find out and mark each em- 
 phatic word *, then let him examine what number 
 of words belong to that emphatic one, and at the 
 laft of thofe let him place a comma, or fuch other 
 
 ftop 
 
i*4 LECTURE V. 
 
 ftop as the fenfe requires. The tones appertaining 
 to thefe paufes, and the time taken up in them 
 muft be left to his own judgment ; and his beft 
 rule will be to reflect what tones he would ufe, and 
 what time he would fufpend his voice, were he to 
 fpeak them as his own immediate fentiments. And 
 whoever reads any thing at fight, would do well to 
 pay as little regard to the ftops as poffible, and be 
 chiefly attentive to the meaning of the words. 
 
 OF THE PITCH AND MANAGEMENT OF 
 THE VOICE. 
 
 The next points I am to treat of, are the pitch 
 and management of the voice ; articles of the ut- 
 moft importance to give due force and proportion 
 to all the others. To the being heard with fatif* 
 faction, it is neceffary that the fpeaker mould de- 
 liver himfelf with eafe. But if he does not know 
 how to pitch his voice properly, he can never have 
 the due management of it j and his utterance will 
 be painful to himfelf, and irkfome to his hearers. 
 
 Every fpeaker who is not corrupted by bad hab- 
 it, has three pitches in his voice, the high, low, and 
 middle pitch. The middle pitch is that which is 
 ufed in ordinary difceurfe, from which he either 
 rifes or falls, according as the matter of his -dif- 
 courfe, or emotions of his -mind require, This 
 — ' idle pitch therefore is what ought to be gener- 
 ally 
 
LECTURE V. n$ 
 
 slfy ufed, for two reafons ; firft, becaufe the organs 
 of the voice are ftronger, and more pliable in this 
 pitch, from confbnt ufe : and Secondly, becaufe it 
 is more eafy to rife or fall from that pitch, to high 
 or low, with regular proportion. 
 
 Moft perfons, through want of Ikiil and practice, 
 when they read or fpeak in public, fall into one of 
 the extremes. Either through timidity and diffi- 
 dence they ufe the low pitch, in which they are not 
 heard at all, or with fo much trouble to the liften- 
 er, as foon to weary attention ; or if they aim at 
 avoiding this fault, they run into the high pitch ; 
 which is productive of confequences equally bad. 
 The organs of the voice, in this unufual pitch, are 
 foon wearied, and langour and hoarfenefs enfue. 
 And as the reafon for continuing it, will be equally 
 ftrong during the whole difcourfe, as for the firft 
 fetting out in it, the fpeaker muft lofe all the bene- 
 fits which arife from variety, and fall into a dif- 
 gufting monotony. 
 
 The prevalence of this practice arifes from a 
 common miftake in thofe who fpeak for the firft 
 time in a large room, and before a numerous audi- 
 tory. They conclude it impoffible that they mould 
 be heard in their common pitch of voice, and there- 
 fore change it to a higher. Thus they confound 
 two very diflinct things, making high and low, the 
 fame with loud and foft. Loud and foft in fpeak- 
 M ing, 
 
ji6 LECTURE V. 
 
 ing, is like the forte and piano in mufic, it only re- 
 fers to the different degrees of force ufed in the 
 fame key ; whereas high and low imply a change 
 of key. A man may fpeak louder or fofter in the 
 fame key ; when he fpeaks higher or lower, he 
 changes his key. So that the bufinefs of every one 
 is to proportion the force or loudnefs of voice, to 
 the room, and number of his auditory, in its ufual 
 pitch. If it be larger than ordinary, he is to fpeak 
 louder, not higher ; in his ufual key, not in a new 
 one. And whoever neglects this, will never be 
 able to manage his voice with eafe to himfelf, or 
 pleafure to his hearers. 
 
 It is evident that he who begins in the high 
 pitch, on a fuppofition that he could not otherwife 
 be heard, muft for the fame reafon continue in that 
 pitch throughout. And they who fet out under 
 this delufion are apt to continue in it all their 
 lives, having but little chance of being informed o 
 their error. So that whenever they deliver an) 
 thing in public they of courfe fall into this unnat- 
 ural key. 
 
 This error is no where more obfervable than in 
 the ufual manner of reading Divine Service. The 
 unnatural pitch of voice, is the firfr. thing that 
 flrikes every judicious ear, in the firfr. fentence the 
 clergyman utters, which is continued throughout ; 
 nor have I heard many in my life who read the 
 
 Service 
 
LECTURE V. 117 
 
 Service in their own proper pitch. The quantity 
 of found, necefTary to fill even a large fpace, is 
 much fmaller than is generally imagined \ and to 
 the being well heard, and clearly underftood, a 
 good and diftinct articulation contributes more, 
 than power of voice. PoiTefled of that, a man 
 with a weak voice, has infinite advantages over the 
 ftrongeft without it. If the voice be weak, and the 
 articulation good, the attention and filence of the 
 auditory will be proportionally greater, that they 
 may not mifs any thing that is fa id ; whereas they 
 are under no fiich apprehenfions from a loud fpeak- 
 er. He who delivers himfelf in a moderate pitch, 
 whenever his fubjecT: demands that he mould rife 
 to a higher or fink to a lower, does it with eafe and 
 due proportion ; and produces the effects which are 
 to be expected from fuch change, and agreeable 
 variety. "Whilft he who takes a high pitch, cannot 
 rife upon occafion without running into difcord, 
 nor fink with any rule of proportion to guide him. 
 They, who to avoid this fault, run into the oppo- 
 fite extreme, and begin in a lower pitch than is 
 natural to them, err indeed of the fafer fide, but 
 are equally diftant from the point of truth. It is 
 true it is more eafy to rife gradually and propor- 
 tionally, than to defcend ; but whilft they remain 
 in thit key, it will appear equally unnatural, and 
 more Ian ;u'd than the other. And thev will be 
 
 very 
 
u8 LECTURE V. 
 
 very apt through the body of their difcourfe, t« 
 run chiefly into that key, in which they had 
 out. The true, fafe, and fure rule (unlefs upon ex* 
 traordinary occafions indeed) is always to begin in 
 your ufual pitch of fpeaking •, if that fhould not 
 prove ftrong enough, ftrengthen it by practice ; if 
 there be fuch a natural weaknefs in the organs, as 
 that you cannot be heard in public anemblies in 
 that pitch, you had better give over all thoughts of 
 appearing in them ; or if your profeflion obliges 
 you to it, you muft give up all hopes of fpeaking 
 gracefully and agreeably, or even intelligibly. For. 
 he who is obliged to ftrain his voice, in order to be 
 heard, will fcarce articulate well. The office of 
 articulation is of a very delicate nature, and re-> 
 quires that the organs which perform it, ihould not 
 be difturbed, or fuffer any violence; which muft. 
 always be the cafe when the voice is pufhed out 
 upon them with uncommon force. I have known 
 inftances of perions with very ftrong voices, of 
 whom in their utmoft exertions of them, it has 
 been very juftly obferved, that there was no hear=» 
 ing what they faid, they fpoke fo loud j for the 
 torrent of the voice, left neither time or power in 
 the organs, to fhape the words properly, but bore 
 away with it cluftered and uncouth mafTes of abor- 
 tive fyllables. 
 
 . Thq 
 
zzcrum v. no 
 
 The Beft rule for a fpeaker to obferve is, never 
 to utter a greater quantity of voice, than he can 
 afford without pain to himfelf, or any extraordina- 
 ry effort. Whilft he does this, the other organs of 
 fpeech will be at liberty to difcharge their feveral 
 offices with eafe ; and he will always have his voice 
 under command. But whenever he tranfgreffcs 
 thefe bounds, he gives up the reins, and has no 
 longer any management of it. And it will ever be 
 the fafeft way too, to keep within his compafs, rath- 
 er than go at any time to the utmoft extent of it ; 
 which is a dangerous experiment, and never jufti- 
 fiable but upon fome extraordinary emotion. For 
 even in that cafe, the tranfgreffing the limits in the 
 leaft, (difficult as the talk is for a fpeaker to keep 
 within bounds, when under the influence of fuch 
 emotion) will fcarce be pardoned: for, as the ju- 
 dicious Shakefpear has well obferved in his infrac- 
 tions to- the player, " In the very torrent, temp*/}, and 
 (i as I may fay, ivhirhuind of your pajfion^ yon muji ac- 
 u quire and beget a temperance thai may give it fmooth- 
 " nefs" For the lame reafon alfo, every fpeaker 
 fliould take care in the management of the breath, 
 always to get a frefh fupply before he feels any 
 want of it ; for whilft he has fome to fpare, he re- 
 cruits it with fuch eafe, that his hearers are not at 
 all fenfible of his doing it. Whereas if he waits 
 till he is put in mind of it by any degree of uneafi- 
 M- 2 nefs, 
 
iao LECTURE V. 
 
 nefs, he not only does it with more difficulty to 
 himfelf, but he may depend upon it that his hear- 
 ers alfo have felt his uneafinefs, and been feniible 
 of his difficulty. For fo ftrong is the fympathy be- 
 tween the organs of fpeech, and thofe of hearing, 
 that the leaft uneaiinefs in the one, is immediately 
 perceived by the other. 
 
 I fhall clofe my obfervations on this head with 
 two rules $ one, for giving ftrength and power to 
 the voice in its natural pitch. The other for ad- 
 jufting the proper quantity or degree of loudnefs 
 in the voice, proportioned to the lize of the room 
 and the number of the auditory. The firft rule 
 for ftrengthening the voice, is this : any one, who 
 through habit, has fallen into a weak utterance, 
 cannot hope fuddenly to change it \ he muft do it 
 by degrees and conftant practice. I would there- 
 fore recommend it to him, that he mould daily ex- 
 ercife himfelf in reading, or repeating in the hear- 
 ing of a friend $ and that too in a large room.. At 
 firft his friend mould ftand at fuch a diftance only, 
 -as the fpeaker can eafily reach, in his ufual man- 
 ner of delivering himfelf. Afterwards let him grad- 
 ually increafe his diftance, and the fpeaker will in 
 the fame gradual proportion increafe the force of 
 the voice °, for the method of increafing by degrees 
 is eafy in this as in every thing elfe, when fudden 
 tranfiticns are impracticable ; and every new acqui- 
 
 iition 
 
LECTURE V.. re 
 
 Stion of power, enables you the better to go on to 
 the next degree. When he fhall have thus got to- 
 that' diftanee, beyond which the fpeaker cannot be 
 heard without ftraining, and forcing his voice, there^ 
 let him flop ; and let that be the ufual place of his: 
 ftanding to hear the moft part of what is declaim- 
 ed ; becaufe, when the fpeaker is able by practice- 
 to manage his voice in that extent, he will certain- 
 ly be able to command it in all the inferior de- 
 grees. Though for the more gradual unfolding of 
 the organs, and regular increafe of the quantity of 
 the voice, it will be always right for the hearer to 
 begin at each day's exercife with the ihorteft dis- 
 tance, and ncreafe it by degrees till he arrives at 
 the utmoft ; in which lituation, for the reafon be- 
 fore afligned, the chief part of the exercife ought 
 to be performed. 
 
 The fecond rule for giving a proper degree of 
 loudnefs, or iiTuing a fufficient quantity of voice 
 proportioned to the room and the audience, which' 
 is commonly called pitching the voice, is this : let 
 the fpeaker, after having looked round the aiTem- 
 bly, fix his eyes on that part of his auditory which 
 is fartheft from him, and he will mechanically en- 
 deavour to pitch his voice fo as that it may reach 
 them. This is what we constantly practice in com- 
 mon difcourfe, for we always proportion the loud- 
 nefs or foftnefs of voice, to the distance of the per^ 
 
 fon 
 
122 LECTURE V.. 
 
 fon to whom we are fpeaking*. When the fpeaker 
 therefore fhall have fixed his eye upon the moll 
 diftant part of his audience, his bufinefs is to con- 
 fider himfelf as addreffing his difcourfe to fome one 
 amongfl them, in fuch a manner as that he may be 
 heard by him, and if the perfon be not beyond the 
 reach of his voice, he will not fail to effect it. But 
 ftill he is to take care not to change his ufual pitch 
 in order to do this, but only to add force or de- 
 grees of loudnefs in proportion to the diftance. 
 This is what we do in life when we call after any 
 perfon to come back j we add loudnefs to our voice 
 according to the diftance he has got from us, but 
 we never change the key^ or bawl, till we find that. 
 he has got fo far, as that his ear cannot be reached 
 by the natural pitch of our voice. He therefore 
 who fets out in a higher key than is natural to 
 him, in order that he may be heard by the moft 
 diftant, may be juftly faid to bawl out his difcourfe, 
 but not to deliver it. 
 
 There is another material circumftance to be at- 
 tended to in pitching the voice, which arifes from 
 the construction of the room in which you are to 
 fpeak ; fome being admirably contrived for the 
 purpofe of fpeaking, and others quite the contrary. 
 Of courfe in the former, a much fmaller quantity 
 of voice will do, than in the latter. The firft ob- 
 ject of every fpeaker, ought to be to find out 
 
 whether 
 
LECTURE. V. 123 
 
 whether his voice can fill the room or not ; and 
 afterwards to proportion the quantity of it accord- 
 ingly. By filling a room with the voice, is meant^ 
 when there is fuch a quantity of it uttered, as not 
 only will reach the extremities, but return alfo to 
 the fpeaker. And a room may be faid to be well 
 conftrudted for fpeaking, when this is effected by a; 
 moderate exertion of a common voice. The two 
 extremes are, when either a room through its fize- 
 or ill conftruction, will admit of no reverberation, 
 or when the reverberation is made by an echo. I 
 ftiall endeavour to find out what is beft to be done 
 in the three cafes. In the firft cafe, when the- 
 fpeaker can fill the room with his voice, his bufi- 
 nefs is to find out what quantity will be fufiicient 
 to do it j that he may neither unnecefiarily wafte 
 his voice by throwing out too much, or diminifta 
 his power by ufing too little; but that he may: 
 have a perfect, command and management of it, ac- 
 cording to the different degrees of exertion, which- 
 may be required in the different parts of his difc 
 courfe. The beft way of finding this out, will be, 
 to begin with a moderate quantity of voice, and to 
 increafe it gradually, till the fpeaker finds out the- 
 degree of loudnefs that is neceffary to fill the room ^ 
 which will be difcovered to him by the return of 
 the found to his own ear, as foon as he has arrived: 
 at the proper pitch. With this degree or quantity; 
 
 of 
 
124 LECTURE V. 
 
 of voice he is to deliver all the more forcible, fpi- 
 rited, and impaffioned parts of his difcourfe. For 
 though he may be diftinctly heard with a fmailer 
 exertion, yet it will not be in a manner fo fatisfac- 
 tory to the hearer. Every fpeaker therefore in a 
 well conftructed room, which is not too large for 
 his powers, may have an infallible criterion by 
 which to judge of that point, as he may be fure 
 that he has filled the ears of his auditory, when he 
 has filled the room ; and he may certainly know 
 when he has filled the room, by the return of his 
 voice to his own ear. This is one of the moft 
 valuable pieces of management that a public fpeak- 
 er can pofiHs, and of which, with due attention, 
 and a little practice, he may eafily become maftcr. 
 This rule is on a fuppofition that the room is fo 
 conftructed as to return the found gently and equa- 
 bly, without any perceptible echo. 
 
 But in the fecond cafe where the found is fud- 
 denly reverberated by an echo, the difficulty to the 
 fpeaker is much increafed. Nothing is more apt. 
 to miflead the unwary and unfkilful fpeaker, than 
 this circumftance in a room ; for as his voice founds- 
 much louder to himfelf on that account, he is apt 
 to conclude that he is the better heard •, whereas 
 the very thing which adds to the loudnefs, deftroys 
 articulation and diftinction of utterance, which are 
 eflCentially necefiary to the being underftood. For 
 
 the. 
 
LECTURE V. 125 
 
 the quick and fudden reverberation of the founds 
 which have been uttered, makes fuch a jumble with 
 thofe which are uttering, that the whole appears a 
 confufed babble of fomething like words indeed, 
 but utterly unintelligible. In the former cafe, when 
 the room is well conftrufted for fpeaking, the re- 
 turn of the voice is made in a moderate and equa- 
 ble manner ; in the latter, it rebounds like a ten- 
 nis-ball. In the firft cafe, the undulation of found 
 refembles the circles made in a fmooth water by 
 the gentle dropping in of a pebble, where all grad- 
 ually increafe in their circumference, and are regu- 
 lar in their figures : the other refembles the mo- 
 tion of the water when a ftone is dafhed violently 
 into it, where all is irregular and confufed. No- 
 thing can ihew the ignorance which prevails in the 
 art of fpeaking in this age in a ftronger light than 
 this very circumftance ; for there have been few 
 rooms built for the purpofe of fpeaking, in which 
 the contrivers have not endeavoured, by artificial 
 means, to procure as ftrong an echo as poflible, in 
 order to affift. the fpeaker, when it is of all others 
 the greateft: hindrance to him. Whoever there- 
 fore has the misfortune to be under a neceflity of 
 fpeaking in a room of that fort, has no remedy 
 but this. He muft leflen the quantity of his voice 
 till he finds no perceptible echo. It is true this 
 will put it out of his power to exert himfelf, but 
 
 all 
 
126 LECTURE V. 
 
 all he can hope for in fuch circumftances is to be 
 heard and underftood ; energy he muft wholly 
 give up, at leail it muft be confined -to very (mall 
 degrees. 
 
 There is another kind of echo in fome rooms, 
 which does not fuddenly reverberate the founds, but 
 takes up fome interval of time. Here the fpeak- 
 er muft take care to be much flower and diftinct 
 in his utterance than ufual, and to make his paufes 
 longer. He is to attend to the returning found, 
 and not to begin after a paufe till the found is 
 eeafed. 
 
 The third cafe is, when a room is fo large or fo 
 HI conftructed, that the voice of the fpeaker is loft, 
 before it reaches the extremities, or fo far fpent, 
 that it has not force enough to return to him. 
 There are many enormous buildings of this kind, 
 fuch as the old abbeys, cathedrals, and halls, in 
 which the fpeaker has no more advantage from be- 
 ing covered, than if he were in the open air. The 
 only rule the fpeaker has here, is what was firft 
 mentioned, that of fixing his eyes on the moft 
 diftant part of his auditory, and endeavouring to 
 make himfelf heard by them in his natural com- 
 pafs ; but if that cannot be, he is to deliver him- 
 felf to the reft with as much force of voice as he 
 can ufe without {training. Beflde thofe which 
 have been already mentioned, there are fome rooms 
 
 too 
 
LECTURE V. 127 
 
 too fpacious to make any return of the voice from 
 the extremities, which yet have, from the hollow- 
 nefs of the ground underneath, a ftrong echo. 
 This is the cafe in many of our cathedrals. What- 
 ever fpeaker has the misfortune to be obliged to 
 deliver himfelf in one of thefe, has nothing for it, 
 ^but to fubmit to neceffity, and to get through his 
 work as well as he can. 
 
 N LECTURE 
 
LECTURE VI. 
 
 TONES. 
 
 JL HUS far, I have confidered the feveral 
 points, that are fundamentally and effentially ne- 
 ceflary to every public fpeaker ; without which, he 
 will be fo far from making any impreflion on his 
 hearers, that he will not be able to command their 
 attention, nor, in many cafes, even make himfelf 
 under ftood. 
 
 Yet fo low is the ftate of elocution amongft us, 
 that a man who is mafter even of thefe rudiments 
 of rhetoric, is comparatively confidered as one of an 
 excellent delivery. This very circumftance, there- 
 fore, is a fufficient inducement to apply clofely, at 
 leaft to the maftery of thefe points. 
 
 But when a man has got fo far, as I can fee no 
 reafon that he fhould flop there, or that he fhould 
 not farther endeavour to make himfelf mafter of 
 every thing, which can add grace or force to his 
 delivery : I fhall now attempt to lay open the prin- 
 ciples. 
 
LECTURE VI. 129 
 
 clples, that may ferve as guides to him, in the ufe 
 of the two remaining articles, tones, and geflure j 
 upon which, all that is pleafurable, or affecting in 
 elocution, chiefly depend. 
 
 Before I enter upon the fubject of tones, it will 
 be neceffary to fix the precife meaning of the term 
 language *, to know what it comprehends, and what 
 are its bounds. 
 
 I dare fay there are few, who would not think 
 it an affront offered to their understandings, if they 
 were afked, what they mean by the term language ? 
 as being a thing, which every rational creature, is 
 fuppofed neceffarily to know. And I fancy, upon 
 fuch a question's being propofed, the firft thought 
 that would occur to every one, who had not proper- 
 ly confidered the point, is, that language is com- 
 pofed of words. And yet, this is fo far from be- 
 ing an adequate idea of language, that the point in 
 which moft men think its very effence to coniift, is 
 not even a neceffary property of language. For 
 language, in its full extent, means, any way or 
 method whatfoever, by which all that paffes in the 
 mind of one man, may be manifefted to another. 
 And as this is chiefly done by an agreement in the 
 ufe of certain ligns, it is no matter what thofe iigns 
 are \ there being little or no natural connection, 
 between any verbal iigns and our ideas, which is 
 diffidently evinced, by the variety of languages 
 
 that 
 
r 3 o LECTURE VL 
 
 that are fpoken, in the different countries of the 
 world. 
 
 It is true, the facility with which the communi- 
 cation is carried on, by means of the organs of 
 fpeech, preferably to any other method ; together 
 with fome other reafons, which need not here be 
 enumerated, have made mankind in general agree, 
 in making articulate founds or words, the fymbols 
 of their ideas ; but we have ample proof, that this 
 did not arife from a principle of necemty, but con- 
 veniency. For they who are born deaf, can make 
 themfelves under flood by viiibie figns ; and we 
 have it on the befc authority, that the Mimes of 
 the ancients, were perfectly intelligble, without the 
 ufe of words. But why need I mention thefe, 
 when every one who can read knows, that our 
 thoughts may be communicated by vifible marks, 
 as well as by articulate founds ? 
 
 I am aware it will be laid, that written language 
 is only a copy of that which is fpoken, and has a 
 confhmt reference to articulation j the characters 
 upon paper, being only fymbols of articulate founds. 
 
 But though all who are bleft with the gift of 
 fpeech, by conftsntly aflbciating the ideas of articu- 
 late founds, to thofe characters which they fee on 
 paper, come to imagine that there is a necefTary 
 conection between them, and that the one, is 
 merely a fymbol of the other *, yet, that it is in 
 
 itfelt; 
 
LECTURE VL 131 
 
 itfelf, a manner of communication entirely differ- 
 ent, and utterly independent of the other, we have 
 ample demonftration from this, that it can be per- 
 fectly underftood by thofe, who never had, nor ev- 
 er could have, the leaft idea of an articulate found. 
 This has been fully proved, in the cafe of many 
 perfons born deaf, who yet could read, and under- 
 stand written language perfectly well, and write 
 their thoughts with accuracy. 
 
 It may at firfl view be thought, that I am la- 
 bouring a point of little or no confequence, farther 
 than {peculation •, but as I think I fhall be able to 
 ihew, that this fundamental error with regard to 
 our general idea of language, in confining it to fuch 
 narrow bounds, has had a remarkable effect upon 
 our practice ; and that fome of its noblefl ufes have 
 been loft to us, through the want of a juft notion 
 of its comprehenfion ; it muff be granted, that be- 
 fore I proceed, it will be neceffary, in the fullefl 
 manner, to clear up that point. The allowed utili- 
 ty of any meafure, muft be the firfl inducement, to 
 enter on the purfuit of it ; and the reafonablenefs 
 of it muft be fhewn, before its utility will be al- 
 lowed. 
 
 In civilized countries, pcneffed of the collected: 
 
 wifdom of ages in books, the learned think they 
 
 know, or have it in their power to know every 
 
 thing that it is poffible for the human mind to be 
 
 N- 2 acquainted. 
 
and 
 
 132 LECTURE VI. 
 
 acquainted with. In vain have feveral new an< 
 important difcoveries, made in latter ages, as well 
 as in our own times, fhewn how ill founded this 
 opinion is. Learned vanity, which exceeds that of 
 every other kkid^ {till takes up arms againft any 
 thing that is offered as new. And even amongfi: 
 the mofl candid, on account of the many pre- 
 tentions that have been made to new difcoveries, 
 which have ended in fmoke, the underftanding is 
 exceedingly on its guard on fuch occaiions *, doubts 
 of every thing that is offered to it, which does not 
 carry conviction j and will fcarcely admit of any 
 concluiion, that does not amount to demonftration. 
 This is the cafe even in fubjects that are in them- 
 felves new, and which therefore have no prejudices 
 to encounter : but when the fubject happens to be 
 of that kind which is open to all the world •, which 
 has not only been an object of enquiry and exam- 
 ination, in theory, but is alfo to be viewed in uni- 
 verfal practice ; and therefore is of that fort, about 
 which all mankind have formed certain opinions, 
 or judgments -, it is evident, that the prepofieffions 
 to be encountered in that cafe, muft be much 
 ftronger ; and that nothing is likely to remove 
 them, but neceffary concluhons, drawn from felf- 
 evident premifes. 
 
 Of this nature, is the fubject of language ; which 
 being ufed by all mankind, is of all others, the fub- 
 
 jeft 
 
LECTURE VI, 133 
 
 jecl which mankind in general, think themfelves 
 befl acquainted with, and that, of which they have 
 the cleareft and folleft compreheniion. And yet it 
 is of all others, that of which the molt erroneous 
 opinions are entertained^ and with whole true na* 
 ture, mankind in general are leaft- acquainted. The 
 reafon of this might be clearly {hewn, were there 
 time now for fuch an enquiry ; but it ought to 
 make the mofl knowing and learned of men, doubt- 
 ful of their judgments in this article, when it is 
 confldered with what candour, the clear lighted and 
 judicious Locke, has acknowledged his error in that 
 point;;, and. his ignorance of the true ftate of lan-^ 
 guage,. till the prechlon, necelTary to his fubjec"l, 
 compelled him to a ftricl: fcrutiny into its nature: 
 in confequence of which he was divefted of the 
 prejudices, that he had imbibed from cuftom and 
 education. With what ingenuous modefty has he 
 confelTed, that confcioufnefs of error, firft gave rife 
 to thofe new and important difcoveries, laid open 
 in the third book of his ElTay, in which he treats 
 of words! Where he fays, "I muft confefs that 
 « when. I firft began this difcourfe of the under* 
 " {landing, and a good while after, I had not the 
 « leaft thought, that any consideration of words, 
 « was at all necelTary to it." And yet this great 
 man founds that he could not proceed himfelf with 
 any certainty, or manifest his thoughts, to others 
 
 with 
 
i 3 4 LECTURE VI. 
 
 with any clearnefs, till he had firft written an en- 
 tire book upon that point, which he acknowledges 
 he had before thought, utterly unnecefTary ; and till 
 he had fet himfelf right, as well as the reft of the 
 world, in the miftaken notions entertained of lan- 
 guage. 
 
 What a pity is it, that this penetrating writer, 
 did not carry his enquiries farther into this impor- 
 tant fubjecl:, as he feems in one place to promife. 
 We might then have had, as accurate a knowledge, 
 of the whole of language, as we now have, of that 
 part of it which he has laid open to us. But he 
 confined himfelf entirely to that branch of lan- 
 guage, which related to his fubjecl, an enquiry in- 
 to the human underitanding ; his only object was, 
 to examine the nature of words, as fymbols of our 
 ideas : whilft the nobler branch of language, which 
 confifts of the iigns of internal emotions, was un- 
 touched by him as foreign to his purpofe. And 
 however we may be indebted to him, for the new 
 lights which he has given us into the fubject, fo far 
 as he has gone ; yet it is to be feared, that by {top- 
 ping there, he has not a little contributed, to the 
 confined view which we have of language, in con- 
 fidering it, as made up wholly of words. 
 
 Our pains with refpect to language, are at pres- 
 ent limited, to the narrow conception which we 
 have of it j and therefore are wholly confined to 
 
 the 
 
 
LECTURE VL i 3S 
 
 tile knowledge and ufe of words: and I think I 
 may venture to appeal to my hearers, whether this 
 is not the generally received opinion ? and wheth- 
 er he, who perfectly underftands the meaning of 
 the words, and has the right ufe of them at com- 
 mand, is not thought to be a matter of language ? 
 Yet, if it can be fhewn that this is only a part of 
 language ; if it can be fhewn that it has other 
 parts, abfolutery necefTary to the communication of 
 what pafles in our minds, which cannot poflibly be 
 done by mere words ; and that too in order to an* 
 fwer fome of the nobleft,- and mofl important ends, 
 of fuch fecial communication •, it muft be allowed* 
 that our pains ought not to be confined, to that 
 part only j but mould proportionally be extended 
 to thofe other parts,- which are equally necelTaryj 
 and in their confequences of more importance. 
 
 I have already fhewn, that words are, in their 
 own nature, no efientialpart of language, and are 
 only confidered fo through cuftom. I fhall now 
 proceed to fhew, that when by cufk>m they are 
 made a necefTary part, they are ftill only a part j 
 that they cannot poflibly effect --all the purpofes of 
 fbcial communication ; and that there are other 
 parts, eflentiatty necellary to anfwer its nobleft and 
 beft ends. 
 
 Words are, by compact, the marks or fymbote 
 cf our ideas 5. and this is the utmoft extent of their 
 
 power. 
 
136 LECTURE VL 
 
 power. Did nothing pafs in the mind of man, 
 but ideas ; were he a different kind of being from 
 what he is ; were he like the Houynhms of S\vift r 
 always directed by a cool, invariable, and as I may 
 fay inflinctive reafon •, to make known the ideas of 
 fuch a mind, and its internal operations, would not 
 be beyond the power of words : and a language 
 compofed of words only, provided there were a 
 fufficient number of them, fo that each idea, and 
 each operation, might have its diflinct mark, would 
 fufnciently anfwer the end. For this we find ef- 
 fected amongft us, in all matters where firnple rea- 
 fon, and mere {peculation is concerned, as in the 
 inveiligations of mathematical truths. 
 
 But as there are other things which pafs in the 
 mind of man, beiide ideas ; as he is not wholly 
 made up of intellect, but on the contrary, the 
 pafiions, and the fancy, compofe great part of his 
 complicated frame ; as the operations of thefe are 
 attended with, an infinite variety of emotions in the 
 mind, both in kind and degree ; it is clear, that 
 unlefs there be fome means found, of manifefting 
 thofe emotions, ail that pafles in the mind of one 
 man cannot be communicated to another. Now, 
 as in order to know what another knows, and in 
 the fame manner that he knows it, an exact tran- 
 fcript of the ideas v/hich pafs in the mind of one 
 man, muft be made by fenfible marks, in the mind 
 
 of 
 
LECTURE VI. !37 
 
 of another ; fo in order to feel what another feels, 
 the emotions which are in the mind of one man, 
 muft alfo be communicated to that of another, by 
 fenfible marks. 
 
 That the fenfible marks neceflary to anfwer this 
 purpofe, cannot pofiibly be mere words, might ful- . 
 ly be proved by a philofophical difquifition into 
 their nature, were it proper at prefent to enter into 
 fuch an enquiry : but this point may be made fuf- 
 iiciently clear to anfwer my prefent deiign, in a 
 morter way. It is certain that we have given names 
 to many of thefe emotions, at leaft to fuch as are 
 of the ftrongeft, and moft remarkable kind, though 
 much the greater part of them, and the different 
 degrees of all, remain without names. But the ufe 
 of thefe names, is not to ftand as types of the emo- 
 tions themfelves, but only as figns, of the fimple or 
 complex ideas, which are formed of thofe emo- 
 tions ; that we may be enabled, by the help of thofe 
 names, to diftinguifh them in the underftanding, 
 and treat of their feveral natures, in the fame cool 
 manner as we do with regard to other ideas, that 
 iiave no connection with any emotions of the mind. 
 
 Every one will at once acknowledge that the 
 terms anger, fear, love, hatred, pity, grief, will not 
 excite in him the fenfations of thofe paffions, and 
 make him angry or afraid, companionate or griev- 
 ed j nor, fhould a man declare himfelf to be under 
 
 the 
 
s 3 8 LECTURE VL 
 
 the influence of any of thofe paffions, in the mofl 
 explicit and flrong words that the language can af- 
 ford, would he in the leaft affect us, or gain any 
 credit, if he ufed no other figns but words. If any 
 one fhould fay in the fame tone of voice that he 
 ufes in delivering indifferent propositions from a 
 cool understanding, "Sure never any mortal was 
 cr fo overwhelmed with grief as I am at this pre£- 
 " ent." Or, K My rage is rouzed to a pitch of fren- 
 « zy, I cannot command it : avoid me, be gone 
 " this moment, or I {hall tear you to piece* :" fun 
 no one would feel any pity for the diftrefs of the 
 former, or any fear from the threats of the latter. 
 We fhould either believe that he jefted, or if he 
 would be thought ferious, we mould be moved to 
 laughter -at his abfardity. And why is this; but 
 becaufe he makes ufe of words only, as the figns of 
 emotions, which it is impoffible they can reprefent ; 
 and omits the ufe of the true figns of the paffions, 
 which are, tones, looks, and geftures. 
 
 This will ferve to fhew us that the language, or 
 fenlible marks, by which the emotions of the mind 
 are difcovered, and communicated from man to 
 man, are entirely different from words, and inde- 
 pendent of them. Nor was this kind of language 
 left to the invention of man, or to the chance of 
 fuch arbitrary marks, as he mould think proper to 
 affix to the paflions, in order to characterize them : 
 
 no, 
 
LECTURE VI t 39 
 
 510, it was necefTary to fociety, and to the fhte of 
 human nature in general, that the language of the 
 animal paflions of man at leaft^, fhould be fixed, 
 felf-evident, and Univerfally intelligible ; and it has 
 accordingly been imprefled, by the unerring hand 
 of nature, on the human frame. The improve* 
 ment and exercife of the intellectual faculties, to 
 any eminent degree, could fall to the lot of but a 
 -fmall portion of mankind *, as even the neceliaries 
 for the fupport of life, cannot be acquired by much 
 the greater part, but by fuck conftant labour and 
 induftry as will afford no time for contemplative 
 ftudies. But though it be not neceffary to fociety, 
 that all men fhould know much ; it is neceiTary 
 that they fhould feel much, and have a mutual Sym- 
 pathy, -in whatsoever affects their fellow creatures. 
 All our affections therefore and emotions, belong- 
 ing to man in his animal ftate, are fo difbincHy 
 characterized, hy certain marks, that they cannot 
 ■be mistaken ; and this language of the pafnons^ 
 carries with it the ftamp of its Almighty Artificer ; 
 utterly unlike the poor workmanihip of imperfect 
 man, as it is not only underftood by all the differ- 
 ent nations of the world, without pains or fludy '} 
 but excites alfo fimilar emotions, or corresponding 
 effects in all minds alike. 
 
 Thus, the tones expreffive of forroW, lametffca* 
 
 t£©a, mirth, joy, hatred, anger, love, pity, Sec. are 
 
 O the 
 
i 4 o LECTURE VI. 
 
 the fame in all nations, and confequently can excite 
 emotions in us analogous to thofe paffions, when 
 accompanying words which we do riot understand : 
 nay the very tones themfclves, independent of words, 
 will produce the fame effects, as has been amply 
 proved by the power of mulical imitations. And 
 though thefe tones, are ufually accompanied with 
 words, in order that the understanding may at the 
 fame time perceive the caufe of thefe emotions, by 
 a communication of the particular ideas which ex- 
 cite them *, yet that the whole energy, or power 
 of exciting analogous emotions in others, lies in the 
 tones themfelves, may be known from this ; that 
 whenever the -force of thefe paffions is extreme, 
 words give place to inarticulate founds : fighs, mur- 
 mur! ngs, in love; fobs, groans, and cries, in grief; 
 ]\alf choaked founds, in rage ; and fhrieks in ter- 
 ror, are then the only language heard. And the 
 experience of mankind may be appealed to, whether 
 thefe have not more power in exciting Sympathy, 
 than any thing that can be done by mere words. 
 
 Nor has this language of the paffions been con- 
 fined to man only ; for in that refpect, he feems to 
 £>e included in the general law, given to all animals 
 that are not mute, or wholly incapable of uttering 
 any found ; as they alfo exprefs their paffions by 
 certain tones, which ftriking the auditory nerves 
 of thofe of the fame fpecies, always produce corre- 
 
 fpondent 
 
LECTURE VL 141 
 
 fpondent effects ; inafmuch as their kindred organs 
 are invariably tuned by the hand of nature, in uni- 
 fon to thofe founds. 
 
 But it is to be obferved, that each fpecies of 
 animals, feem to have a language of their own, not 
 at all underftood, or felt by the reft. The lowing 
 of the cow affects not the larnb ; nor does the calf 
 regard the bleating of the fheep. The neighing 
 of the fteed, calls up all the attention of the horfe 
 kind j they gaze towards the place from whence 
 the found comes, and anfwer it, or run that way, 
 if the fteed be not in view •, whilft the cows and 
 iheep raife not their heads from the ground, but 
 continue to feed, utterly unmoved. The organs 
 of hearing in each fpecies, are tuned only to the 
 founds of their own ; and whilft the roaring of the 
 lionefs, makes the foreft tremble, it is the fweeteft 
 mufic to the ears of her young. This mews us, 
 that the auditory nerves of animals, are conftrucbed 
 in fuch a way, as to be affected only with fuch 
 founds, as immediately regard the two chief ends 
 of their being 3 the propagation, and prefervation 
 of their fpecies : all other founds therefore, except- 
 ing fuch as excite fympathy, or antipathy, are in- 
 different to them. Sympathy, with thofe of their 
 own kind 5 antipathy, againft fuch as are their nat- 
 ural enemies, or deftructive of their fpecies. Thofe 
 which excite fympathy, may be fuppofed to be all 
 
 in 
 
i 4 2 LECTURE VI. 
 
 in concord; thofe which roufe antipathy, to be 
 difcords ; which by creating an uneafy fenfation, 
 immediately difpofe them to flight, to avoid the 
 enemy. Thus the cry of dogs, warns the hare of 
 his danger ♦, and the howlings of the wolf, alarm 
 the flock. The different fpecies of animals, may 
 therefore be considered, as fo many different na- 
 tions fpeaking different languages, that have no 
 commerce with each other ; each of which confe- 
 cmently underftands none but their own ; except- 
 ing only thofe who are in a ftate of warfare ; by 
 whom the language of the enemy is fufrlciently un- 
 derflood, for the purpofe of felf-prefervation. 
 
 As the paflions and emotions of the feveral kinds 
 of animals, are very different, according to their 
 different natures, fo is there an equal diverflty of 
 tones, by which thefe feveral paflions and emotions- 
 are expreffed; from the horrible roarings of the 
 lion, to the gentle bleatings of the lamb ; from the 
 loud bellowings of the wild bull, to the low purr- 
 ing of the domeftic cat. But as there is no pafiion 
 or emotion whatfoever, in the whole animal world, 
 which is not to be found in man, fo equally com- 
 prehensive is the language of his paflions, which 
 are all manifefled by fuitable tones. The roaring 
 of the lion, is not more terrible than the voice of 
 his anger ; nor the eooings of the pigeon, more 
 foft than the murmurs of his love. The crowing 
 
 of 
 
LECTURE VL r 43 
 
 of the morning cock, is not fo clear and fprightly 
 as the notes of his joy ; nor the melancholy mourn- 
 ings of the turtle, fo plaintive as thofe of his woe. 
 The organs of hearing therefore in man, are fo con- 
 structed, as not to be indifferent to any kind of tone^ 
 either in his own fpecies, or in the animal world, 
 that is expreffive of emotion or paflion : from all 
 they receive either pleafure or pain, as they are af- 
 fected with fympathy or antipathy. It is true that 
 like the feveral tribes of animals, man is molt, affect*' 
 cd, or has the frrongeft. fympathy excited, by fuch 
 tones as are uttered by thofe of his own fpecies \ 
 and in proportion alfo by thofe which moft nearly 
 referable them in others. We are moved moil by 
 the dirTrefsful cries of thofe animals, that have any 
 fimilitude to the human voice, fuch as the fawn, 
 and the hare, when feized in purfuit by dogs. But 
 ftill we both feel and underfcand the nature of all 
 others. Nor can any animal utter any found which 
 we cannot explain, or tell from what emotion, or 
 paffion it proceeds. This diftinguifhing faculty was 
 neceiTary to man as mailer of the animal race, that 
 by understanding their feveral languages, he might 
 relieve their diftreffes, and fupply their wants. 
 And indeed we find, that the tones, of all domeftie 
 animals, expreffive of their wants or diftreiTesj have 
 a wonderful power over the human heartland me- 
 chanically roufe us to their relief. 
 
 o 2 Thus 
 

 244 LECTURE VL 
 
 Thus extenfive as are the powers of the human 
 ear, thofe of the human voice do not fall fhort of 
 them > but are exactly fuited to them in degree 
 and comprehension •, there is no tone which the 
 ear can diflinguifh, that the voice, by pains and 
 practice, is not capable of uttering. Hence it comes 
 to pafs, that as man underftands the language of 
 the different tribes of animals, fo he can make 
 himfeif underftood by them. The horfe rejoices 
 in the applauding tones of his rider's voice, and 
 trembles when he changes them to thofe of anger. 
 What blandishments do we fee in the dog when 
 his mafter fooths him in kind notes ? What fear, 
 and even fhanie, when he changes them to thofe of 
 chiding ? By thofe the waggoner directs his team 
 and the herdfman his flock. Even- animals of th 
 moft favage nature, are not proof againft collective 
 powers of the human voice *, and fhouts of multi- 
 tudes will put wild beafts to flight, who can hear 
 without emotion the roarings of the thunder. 
 
 But that man fhould be furnifhed with fiich an 
 extensive power in thefe points, even in his animal 
 itate, will appear reafonable, when we confider that 
 his nature, is an abftract of ail animal- nature ; and 
 that in his tribe are to be found, all the emotions, 
 and paffions, that belong to all the feveral tribes : 
 confequently all the marks expreffive of thofe emo- 
 tions, or fuch as are ilmilar to them, Should belong 
 
 to 
 
 
LECTURE VI. 145: 
 
 to that tribe. If man is capable of being the moft 
 focial, the moil tender and affectionate to thefe of 
 his own fpecies, of any animal; he is at the fame 
 time, capable of becoming a greater enemy, and of 
 having a ftronger hatred and deteflation of them, 
 than is to be found, even amongft the different 
 tribes of animals, that are born in a natural ftate 
 of enmity. AH the natural language therefore of 
 fympathy, and antipathy, mould be given to him 
 jn a higher degree, for the fame reafon that it is 
 in a more limited ftate affignedto the feveral tribes 
 of animals. 
 
 Thus far we find, that man, in his animal capa- 
 city, is furnifhed, like all other animals, by nature 
 herfelf, with a language which requires neither 
 ftudy, art, nor imitation ; which fpontaneoufly 
 breaks out in the exacteft expreftions, nicely pro- 
 portioned to the degrees of his inward emotions ' % 
 and which is not only univerfally understood, but 
 felt by thofe of the fame fpecies, as alfo in certain 
 degrees by the reft of the animal world. That 
 animals mould come perfect from the hand of na- 
 ture, in this refpect, as well as in every thing elfe, 
 feems reafonable from this consideration \ that they 
 are utterly incapable of improving themfelves, or 
 of making any alteration in their frames by their 
 own care or pains ; their feveral faculties by an in- 
 variable law, growing to perfection, and decaying 
 
 with 
 
l 4 6 LECTURE VL 
 
 with their bodies, with as little affiftance from 
 themfelves, as vegetation in herbs or trees is per- 
 formed, in the infenfitive world. As the nrft of 
 animals, nature has not been lefs provident with 
 regard to man *, on the contrary, this, as well as 
 all his other animal faculties, is beftowed on him 
 in a degree fuitable to the fuperiority of his rank; 
 But as man is fomething greater than the nrft of 
 animals ; as he is the link between animal and fpi- 
 ritual beings, and partakes of both their natures ; 
 other faculties, and other principles, belonging to 
 his nobler, fpiritual part, difclofe themfelves j cf 
 which there are no traces in the animal world. 
 
 The nrft. great. diftinction between the human 
 and animal fpecies, and which feems to mark their 
 boundaries, is this : that it is in the power, of man, 
 by his own pains and induftry, to forward the per- 
 fection of his nature. And what the nobler part 
 of his nature is, is clearly pointed out by that dis- 
 tinction ; becaufe it is that nobler part only, or 
 fuch of his animal faculties, as are neceftary to for- 
 ward the perfection of that nobler part, which are 
 capable of improvement by fuch pains. All the 
 organs and faculties of his body necefTary to his 
 animal life,. are fo fafhioned by the hand of nature, 
 that they grow of courfe to perfection; but the 
 organs (if I may be allowed the expreffion) and fac- 
 ulties of his mind, neceiTary to his rational life, are 
 
 only 
 
 
LECTURE VI. r 47 
 
 ©nly in embryo ; and it depends wholly upon the 
 ailiftance of others, together with his own care, to- 
 give them birth, and bring them to maturity. 
 
 Hence arifes the neceffity of a focial ftate to 
 man both for the unfolding, and exerting of his 
 nobler faculties. For this purpofe, a power of open*- 
 ing a communication between mind and mind, was 
 furnifhed in the moft eafy way, by beftowing on 
 him the organs of fpeech. But flill we are to ob- 
 serve, that nature did no more than furnifh the 
 power and means ; fhe did not give the language, 
 as in the cafe of the paflions, but left it £o the in- 
 duftry of men, to find out and agree upon fuch ar* 
 ticulate founds, as they fhould choofe to make the 
 fymbols of their ideas. And fhe feems to have laid 
 down the fame general law, with refpect to every 
 thing which regarded the nobler part of man j to 
 furnifh nothing but what was abfolutely necefTary, 
 and leave the reft to his own induflry : from the 
 exertion of which, his merit was to arife, and his 
 pretenfions to ftand a candidate for his admiffion s 
 into an higher, and happier order of beings. Ac- 
 cordingly as fhe did not furnifh the words, which 
 were to be the fymbols of his ideas ; neither did 
 flie furnifh the tones, which were to manifeft, and 
 communicate by their own virtue, the internal ex* 
 ertions and. emotions, of fuch of his nobler facul- 
 ties, as chiefly diftinguifh him. from the brute fpe- 
 
 cies 
 
t 4 8 LECTURE VI. 
 
 cies ; but left them alfo, like words, to the rare and 
 invention of man ; contenting herfeif with fupply- 
 ing him with an inftrument, of fuch a compafs as 
 would furniih a fufticient variety of tones, to an- 
 fwer all the variety of emotions, exertions, and en- 
 ergies of all his faculties, if fought for, and fettled 
 by agreement, to be their marks. Nor has art found 
 thofe which are of her invention to fee of lefs ern- 
 cacy, or lefs capable of exciting ccrrefpondent emo- 
 tions, than thofe even of natute, when eftabiifhed 
 by cuilom ; in this cafe juflly called fecond nature. 
 The only difference between them lying in this, 
 that the tones of the animal paffions, of themfelves 
 excite analogous emotions, without the intervention 
 of any thing elfe ; they are underftood, by being 
 felt. But the tones refulting from the emotions 
 and exertions of our nobler faculties, though they 
 excite feeling, as it is in the nature of all tones to 
 do Co, yet it is only of a vague and indeterminate 
 nature ; not correfponding to the energies in the 
 mind of the fpeaker, unlefs they are alTociated with 
 words, or the fymbols of the ideas, which give rife 
 to thofe energies and emotions ; their nature and 
 degree then become fixed, and the hearer both feels 
 and underftands them. When any tones therefore 
 are fixed to certain modes of expreifion, and adopt- 
 ed into general ufe ; thofe tones, though they have 
 no natural connection with the fentiment, no mon* 
 
 than. 
 
LECTURE VI. 149 
 
 than words have with ideas ; yet by fuch affocia- 
 tion, become equally intelligible, and equally affect- 
 ing with thofe that have, and are made part of the 
 language ; infomuch, that were thofe exprefiions 
 to be uttered without thofe tones, they would not 
 convey their full meaning. 
 
 Thus far I have confidered tones, chiefly in con- 
 tradistinction to words, as the types and language 
 of the paffions, and all internal emotions> in the 
 fame way as articulate founds, are the types and 
 language of ideas, independent of any fuch emo- 
 tions. But when we come to examine the powers 
 of each in their full extent, we fhall find, that 
 though words are limited to their peculiar office, 
 and never can fupply the place of tones ; yet tones, 
 on the other hand, are not confined to their prov- 
 ince, but often fupply the place of words, as marks 
 of ideas. And though the eafe and diftindtnefs 
 with which our ideas are marked by articulate 
 founds, has made all mankind agree to ufe them in 
 difcourfe, yet that tones are capable in a great meaf- 
 ure of fupplying their place, is clear from this ; 
 that the Chinefe language is chiefly made up of 
 tones, and the fame individual word fhall have fix- 
 ty different meanings, according to the different 
 tones in which it is pronounced, Here then it is 
 clear, that fifty-nine of the fixty ideas, are marked 
 .by tones > for the fame individual word, pronounc- 
 ed 
 
t$a LECTURE VI. 
 
 ed exactly in the fame manner, cannot pombly by 
 itfelf, be a clear and diftinct mark, for more than 
 one idea. This indeed has prodigioufly increafed 
 the difficulty of their language, fo that it is fcarce- 
 ly poflible for flrangers to acquire it *, and it is the 
 labour of a man's life, even among the natives, to 
 make himfelf fully mailer of it. Such a ufe of the 
 tones therefore, in equal extent, has not been adopt- 
 ed by any other nation. But there are none which 
 have it not in fome degree. It is true thefe tones 
 amcngft us, are not annexed to words in their fepa- 
 rate ftate, but only when they are ranged in &n» 
 tences; and he muft be very ignorant of fpeech, 
 who does not know, that the fame individual words 
 in a fentence, mall have feveral very different mean- 
 ings according to the tones which accompany the 
 emphaiis. To the ufe of thefe tones is owing in a 
 great meafure concifenefs of difcourfe ; and the ne- 
 ceffity of multiplying words in a language, to a de- 
 gree that might make them burthenfome to the 
 memory, is removed. Nor r.re thefe the only ad- 
 vantages arifing to language from tones ; for by 
 thus fetting off words by tones, and making them 
 determine their meaning, an agreeable variety may 
 be introduced, into the moft abitraeted and philo- 
 fopliical difcourfes, in which there is no room for 
 the language of the paflions and emotions ; and 
 v-rhich confequsntly muft occafion difguft, andfoon 
 
 weary 
 
 
LECTURE VI. is i 
 
 weary attention, if delivered by the ufc of mere 
 words, in one dull uniform tone. On the fame 
 account it is fortunate alfo that tones have been 
 made the marks of the feveral paufes •, and the links 
 which unite together, the feveral members of Sen- 
 tences and periods. 
 
 But befide the ufe of tones, in the exertion of 
 his animal, and intellectual faculties ; there is anoth- 
 er part of man's nature which feems to be the link 
 that joins the other two, a great part of whefe ex- 
 ertions, have their very efTence, fo far as they are 
 communicated by the voice, in tones % I mean the 
 fancy. To one branch of this part of his frame, 
 nature herfelf has furnifhed matter for a language, 
 different in its kind from all other, and peculiar to 
 man j I mean, rifibility ; and this matter, accord- 
 ing to the exertions of fancy, is to be modified in- 
 to an infinity of fhapes. There is a laugh of joy, 
 and a laugh of ridicule ; there is a laugh of anger, 
 and a laugh of contempt. Nay there are few of our 
 paffions, to which fancy cannot adapt, and affociate 
 this language. And mould we trace it through all 
 its feveral modifications and degrees, from the loud 
 bur ft of joy, to the tones belonging to the dry fneer 
 of contempt ; we fhouid find, that an extenilve, 
 and expreffive language, independent of words, be- 
 longs to this faculty alone. Let any one who has 
 been prefent at a well acted comedy, only reflect, 
 P how 
 
i 5 2 LECTURE VL 
 
 how very different the fentiments, characters, and 
 humour have appeared, in the reprefentation, from 
 what was conveyed to him by the mere perufal of 
 the words in his clofet, and he will need no other 
 proof to fhew him how neceffary, and how exten- 
 sive a part, the tones make, of the language of 
 fcncy. 
 
 From what has been faid, it will fufficiently ap- 
 -pcar, how grofsly they are mifiaken, who think 
 that nothing is eflentially neceiTary to language 5 
 but words ; and that it is no matter, in what tones 
 their fentiments are uttered, or whether there be 
 any ufed, fo that the words are but diftinctly pro-* 
 nounced, and with fuch force of voice as to be clear- 
 ly heard. Since it mult, be allowed, that the ufe of 
 language is not merely to communicate ideas, but 
 alfo all the internal operations, emotions, and exer- 
 tions, of the intellectual, fenfitive, and imaginative 
 faculties of man : ilnce it mull be allowed, that 
 from the frame of our language, our very ideas 
 cannot be communicated, nor confequently our 
 meaning underftood, without the right ufe of tones 5 
 as many of our ideas are marked and difxinguifhed 
 from each other by tones, and not words : and ilnce 
 it mull be allowed, that the connection or repug- 
 nance of our ideas, their relationship or difagree- 
 mentj and various dependence on each other in fen- 
 
 teacesj 
 
LECTURE VI. 153 
 
 tences, are chiefly pointed out by tones belonging 
 to the feveral paufes. 
 
 When therefore we reflect, that not only every 
 tLyig which is pleafurable, every thing which h 
 forcible and affecting in utterance, but alio the moft- 
 material points neceifary to a full and diftinct com** 
 prehenfion, even of the fenfe of what is uttered, 
 depends upon tones ; it may well aftonifh us to 
 think, that fo effential a part of language, fhould 
 in a civilized country be wholly neglected. Nay 
 worfe, that cur youth fhould not only be unin- 
 ftructed in the true ufe of thefe, but in the little 
 art that is ufed, they fhould be early perverted by 
 falfe rules, utterly repugnant to thofe which nature 
 has clearly pointed out to us. In confequence of 
 which, all the noble ends which might be anfwered 
 in a free ftate, by a clear, lively, and affecting pub- 
 lic elocution, are in a great meafure loft to us. 
 And how can it be otherwife, when we have given 
 up the vivifying, energetic language, ftamped by 
 God himfelf upon our natures, for that which is 
 the cold, lifelefs work of art, and invention of manj 
 and bartered that which can penetrate the inmoft.. 
 receffes of the heart, for one which dies in the ear, 
 or fades on the fight ? 
 
 I fhould now proceed to lay down fome practical 
 rules and obfervations, with regard to this material 
 article, but that there is another branch of lan- 
 guage 
 
154 
 
 LECTURE VL 
 
 guage fo nearly connected with this, that all rules 
 in regard to the one, have a necefTary relation t» 
 the other •, and therefore it will be both the fhort- 
 eft> and clearer!: method, to place them- together in 
 view. The branch which I mean is that part of 
 language, which is manifested to fight, by the ex« 
 preffion of the countenance and gefture : of whu 
 I ihall treat in my next*. 
 
 LECTURE: 
 
LECTURE VII.. 
 
 gesture; - 
 
 HlTHERTO, .language has been confid- 
 ered, as addreffed to the mind through the ear, by 
 means of words, and tones. * But nature did not 
 truft an article, fo effential to the well being of 
 man, to a communication by one fenfe only; me 
 has alfo made it viiible to the. eye, as well as audi- 
 ble to the ear. So that the deprivation of either 
 fenfe, mould not wholly prevent the exercife of 
 man's nobler faculties. As me has annexed tones 
 to the pailions, to make their exertions known 
 through the ear ; fo has me aflbciated to them 
 looks and geftures, to manifeft them to the eye. 
 The one, may be juftly called the fpeech, the oth- 
 er, the hand" writing of nature. And her hand 
 writing, like her fpeech, carries evident marks with 
 it, of its divine original j as it correfponds 'exactly 
 to its archetype, and is therefore umverfally legible, . 
 without pains or fhidy ; and as it contains in itfelf: 
 p 2 a powers 
 
156 LECTURE VII; 
 
 a power of exciting fimilar, or analogous emotion?, 
 Not like the writing of man, which having no af- 
 finity with its archetype, can be understood only by 
 pains and labour ; and containing no virtue of its 
 own, can of itfelf, communicate no emotion. 
 
 Nor is the written language of nature lefs ex 
 preffive, or lefs copious, than her fpeech. The 
 feem nicely fuited to each other, in degree an 
 power ; in their effects exactly., fimiiar, having no 
 other difference, but what arifes from the difference 
 of the organs, through which they are conveyed. 
 As every paffion has its peculiar tone, fo has it, its 
 peculiar look or gefture. And in each, the ieverai 
 degrees are marked, with the niceft exactnefs. Both 
 indeed proceeding from the touching of one mafter 
 firing, internal feeling, muft always anfwer to each 
 other, if I may fo fpeak, in perfect: unifon. Thus 
 far they are equal in point of expreflion ; and with 
 refpect to copioufnefs as it has been before obferv> 
 ed, that the human voice is furnifhed with an in- 
 finite variety of tones, fuitable to the infinite vari- 
 ety of emotions in the mind; fo are the human 
 countenance and limbs, capable of an infinite vari- 
 ety of. changes, fuitable to the tones ; or rather to 
 the emotions, whence they both , take their rife. 
 To this purpofe every nobler organ in man's com- 
 plicated frame, and the whole animal economy 
 contribute. The mufcles, nerves, the blood, and 
 
 animal 
 
 i 
 
LECTURE Vlt 157 
 
 animal fpirits, all are at work to fliew mtern^l com- - 
 motion. The contraction or remiflion of the fol- 
 ids, fhewn by courageous exertion of action, or^pu- 
 {illanimous trembling % the rufhing or withdraw- 
 ing of .the fluids, feen in bluming or palenefs -, are 
 ftrong and felf-evident characters. But of all the 
 organs^ tile eye, rightly called the window to the 
 breaft, contains the greater!: variety, as well as dis- 
 tinction and force of characters. In rage it is in- 
 flamed, in fear it iickens •, it fparkles in joy, in di£- 
 trefs it is clouded. Nature has indeed annexed to 
 the paflion of grief, a more forcible character than 
 any other, that of tears •, of all parts of language, 
 the moft expreflive. And juftly was this extraor- 
 dinary fign of that paflion, annexed to the nature 
 of man; the child of forrow, and inhabitant of the 
 Tale of woe : not only to eafe the burthened heart, 
 "but more powerfully to excite his fellow creatures 
 to pity, and to relieve his diftrefs. Thus at once 
 affording balm to the afflicted, and inciting man- 
 kind to the exercife of their nobleft quality, bene- 
 volence. On which account, this Angle character, 
 fums up in it the whole power of language; and 
 in certain circumftances, has more force alone, than 
 all the united endeavours of words, tones, and ges- 
 tures, can come up to. Such were the precious 
 drops that fell from Milton's Eve, which Adam 
 kiiTed away j as 
 
 gracious 
 
IjS 
 
 LECTURE VIE 
 
 gracious figns of fweet remorfe, 
 
 And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended. 
 
 Such were the tears of Sigifmunda, in Dryden's 
 beautiful defcription, fhed over Guifcardo's heart ; 
 
 She faid — her brim-full eyes that ready flood, 
 And only wanted will, to weep a flood, 
 Releas'd their wat'ry fiore, and pour'd amain, 
 Like clouds low hung, a fober fhow'r of rain ; 
 Mute, folemn forrow, free from female noife, 
 Such, as the majefby of grief defbroys ; 
 For bending o'er the cup, the tears fhe fhed, 
 Seem'd, by the pofture,, to difcharge her head 
 O'erfiLL'd before ; and oft her mouth apply'd 
 To the cold heart, fhe kifsM at once, and cry'd. 
 
 Nor is the virtue of this expreflion confined to 
 our own fpecies only, but it is of all others that 
 which moft moves us, in fuch animals as are capa- 
 ble of it. On which account, the flrcng painter of 
 nature, Shakefpea:<v in his defcription of the wound- 
 ed ftag, {landing over the. ftream, took care not to 
 ©mit it j where he fays, 
 
 the big round drops 
 
 Courfed one another down his innocent ncfe, 
 In piteous chafe. 
 
 Which is by much the moil affecting part of the 
 picture. 
 
 But though in this written language ■ of nature, 
 ihe has given fuch forcible, and diftincl: characters, 
 to all the animal pamons of man, and proportion- 
 ally 
 
LECTURE VII. i$ 9 
 
 ally to fuch as have a near affinity to them, or are 
 blended with them ; yet fhe has laid down the fame 
 law, with regard to the viiible figns, of the exer- 
 tions and emotions of all his nobler-faculties, as ihe 
 has done with, regard to the tones. In both flie 
 has furnifhed the means with equal liberality ; but 
 has left it to the invention, and care of man, to 
 make a right ufe of them, and apply them in fuit- 
 able degrees. By the exertion of fuch {kill and 
 pains, it would be found that the viiible language 
 alone, which can be fhewn in the features and 
 limbs of man, is of itfelf fufftcient, without other 
 aid, to every purpofe of focial communication. To 
 inftance only in two articles, the eyes, and hands ; 
 what inward emotion is there, which, cannot be 
 manifefted by thefe ? Do not the eyes difcover hu- 
 mility, pride ; cruelty, companion j reflection, dif. 
 ilpation •, kindnefs, refentment ? Is there an emo- 
 tion of fancy, is there a fhade of ridicule, which 
 they cannot reprefent ?. Let any one who has feen 
 Mr. Garrick perform, confider how much he was 
 indebted to . the language of his eyes, and there 
 will be no occasion to fay more, to give him an 
 idea of the extent and power of expreflion, tQ 
 which that language may be. brought, 
 
 With refpeel: to the power of the hands, every 
 one knows that with them, we can demand, or 
 promife j call, difmifs \ threaten, fupplicate •, afk* 
 
 deny. 5, , 
 
r6o LECTURE VIE 
 
 deny ; fhew joy, fbrrow, deteftation, fear, confef- 
 fion, penitence, admiration, refpect ; and many oth- 
 er things now in common ufe. But how much far- 
 ther their powers might be carried, through our 
 neglect of ufing them, we little know. And indeed 
 the extenfivenefs of this vifible language, would 
 fcarce gain credit with us,- notwithstanding ail die 
 accounts of it handed down from antiquity, partic- 
 ularly with refpecl to the mimes, had we not in- 
 ftances of natural mimes, now living, who. have 
 been compelled to the ftudy and practice of this 
 language, through the misfortune of having been 
 born without the fenfe of hearing.. 
 
 Having fufficiently fhewn the force and extent 
 of this language of nature, and the abfolute necef- 
 flty of it to man, in order to the exertion, exercife 
 and manifestation of all his nobler faculties, it may 
 juftly excite wonder to reflect, that it has been in 
 general fo little cultivated ; and that hiftory fur- 
 nifhes us with an account but of two nations, out 
 of the great variety that have inhabited this peo- 
 pled globe fince the creation, that ever applied 
 themfelves to the regular ftudy and practice of it, 
 fo as to bring it to perfection. And thefe were the 
 Greeks and Romans j who railed themfelves to 
 fuch an height above the reft of mankind, that 
 when we examine their hiftory, furvey their migh- 
 ty works, and. compare them with thofe of other 
 
 nations, 
 
LECTURE VIL 161 
 
 nations, tlieir proportion to the reft of the world, 
 Teems to be that of the Brobdignags to the Lilli- 
 putians. 
 
 It is true that in fome other countries, this lan- 
 •guage of iigns, has in fome degree prevailed j but 
 the difference between the ancients and moderns, 
 lies in this : that the ancients founded all their in- 
 illtuted iigns on nature $ from her they drew all 
 their ftores j fitted them in the niceft and exactefl 
 manner to the emotions which they were to ex- 
 prefs ; and adapted them fo to their artificial lan- 
 guage, that their whole delivery formed the com- 
 pleted: harmony : the words, tones, iooks and ge{- 
 tures, correfponding to each other, in fuch a way, 
 us that each contributed to enforce and adorn the 
 other ; and their united efforts, produced the fen- 
 timents of the mind, in their full proportion and 
 beauty. So that all mankind, who faw and heard 
 them, were charmed with the manner of their de- 
 livery, though they underftood not their fpeech ; 
 I and partook of their emotions, even without any 
 communication of their ideas. But amongft the 
 moderns, the inftituted figns of tones, gefture, &a 
 were not founded on nature, but caprice and fan- 
 cy ; and obtained their whole force, from fafhion 
 and cuftora. Confequently, they had neither mean- 
 ing, or beauty, to any but the natives of each coun- 
 try, and were totally different from each other in 
 
 the 
 
*3i LECTURE VII. 
 
 the feverai countries ; which is Sufficiently known 
 by all who are converfant with the natives of France, 
 Spain, and Italy. But of all nations in the world, 
 the Englifh feem te have the leaft ufe of this lan- 
 guage of figns ; there being few instituted Signs of 
 emotions, either of tones^ looks, or geftures, that 
 are adopted into general ufe. Gn the contrary, 
 each individual, either follows his own fancy in 
 this reflect, and has what is called a way of his 
 own j or elfe adopts the manner of fame other, 
 who pleafes his fancy, and of whom he is altogeth* 
 er a mimick. 
 
 From what has been faid, it is apparent that no 
 general practical rules, I mean fuch as would be of 
 any efficacy, can be laid down in this reflect. For 
 -general practical rules muft be founded on general 
 practice ; and as there is no fuch Standard, in thefe 
 •countries, to refer to, it would be in vain to lay 
 clown fuch rules, as cannot be explained and en- 
 forced by examples. In fome points, that demand 
 practice, as well as Speculation, the practical part 
 muft be obtained by the imitation of patterns, and 
 continual exercife in that way, till the imitation be* 
 comes perfect, and paffes into a habit. But where 
 there are no general models to be copied from, 
 there can be no general practice, founded on imita- 
 tion. In Greece and Rome, ail the public Speak- 
 ers, agreeing as much in the ufe of the fame -Signs, 
 
 or 
 
 
LECTURE VII. i6 3 
 
 cr language of nature, as they did in the ufe of the 
 -fame words, or language of art j afforded general, 
 conftant, and fure patterns of imitation to others. 
 In France, Italy, and Spain, as in each country, 
 there is an uniform, fteady ufe of the fame figns, 
 though in a more confined way, yet fo far theyalfo 
 afford fare patterns of imitation. But in England, 
 where there are fcarce any traces of a general agree- 
 ment in the ufe of fuch figns, there can be no ob- 
 fervations drawn from general practice, no rules 
 laid down that require explanation by examples, 
 nor no manner recommended, which demands the 
 aid of patterns. In this cafe, all that can be done 
 is, to lay down fuch rules to individuals, as fhall 
 enable them to avoid faults, not acquire beauties. 
 It is in 'the power of rules to compafs the former, 
 the latter cannot be obtained without models and 
 practice. I fay cannot be obtained ; for to fome, 
 nature has been uncommonly bountiful ; and in 
 thofe who have had the good fortune to efcape ill 
 habits, a native grace will appear, beyond what 
 could be acquired by art alone ; but of this the in- 
 ftances are rare. If inftances of fuch extraordina- 
 ry gifts are few, much fewer are the examples of 
 fuch, as have not been corrupted by cuflom. And 
 indeed when thefe gifts are befbowed in the moft 
 eminent degree, they are capable of great improve- 
 Q^ ment 
 
1 64 LECTURE VII. 
 
 ment by art ; {q that induftry is equally ufeful, if 
 not equally necefTary to all. 
 
 It has been already obferved, that as there is no 
 common fbndard to be referred to, no general 
 models for imitation, in the ufe of tones and ge{- 
 ture ; each individual, either forms a manner pe- 
 culiar to himfelf, or adopts that of fome ether, that 
 {Irikes his fancy. Of thefe two ways, there can be 
 no doubt, which a man mould follow. He that 
 forms to himfelf a manner of his own, will proba- 
 bly acquire fuch a one, as will be moil confonant 
 to his own powers and his own feelings. The very 
 eafe with which he falls into this, and the difficul- 
 ty, as well as abfurdity, of putting any conftraint 
 upon his nature, and forcing his organs, where he 
 has no object of imitation in view, will of courfe 
 accomplifh this point. But he who endeavours to 
 adopt the manner of another, lofes fight of his own 
 nature, and puts a conftraint upon his organs. For 
 men do not differ more from each other in their 
 faces, than they do in their powers of delivery. 
 And the fame manner which is eafy and agreeable 
 in one man, becomes conftrained and difgufting, 
 when afTumed by another. The reafon is, that all 
 conftraint upon nature is inftantly perceived, as it 
 produces affectation, and of courfe deftroys true 
 feeling ; for it is as impoffible, where affectation 
 takes place in the manner of delivery, or in the 
 
 figns 
 
LECTURE VII. k^: 
 
 figns of inward emotions, that the feelings of the 
 heart fhould be excited, as that two mufical firings, 
 not in unifon, fhould vibrate to each other, when 
 one only is {track. Fantaflical emotions will pro- 
 duce fantalKcal figns, and fantaftkal figns, by reac- 
 tion, will produce fantaflical emotions. Both, hav- 
 ing their rife in the imagination, may operate upon 
 the fancy, and produce effects there, but never can 
 reach the heart \ as all communication between 
 them, is neceffarily Cut off by affectation. Thus 
 the fancied operations of the fpirit, in the people 
 called Quakers, manifefted by the moft unnatural 
 figns j and in fome other religious feels, by a cer- 
 tain cant, and extravagant geftures, produce pow- 
 erful effects, on the imaginations of fuch hearers, 
 as are bred up in- the perfuafion, that fuch figns 
 are the language of the fpirit : but it muft. be evi- 
 dent, upon obferving both the preachers and their 
 auditory, that it is only the imagination, which is 
 fo wrought upon ; as there is no difcovering in 
 their countenances, any figns which are the natural 
 concomitants of the feelings of the heart. This 
 fort of language of emotions therefore, is well cal- 
 culated to make enthuflaffe, but not believers. 
 
 In fuch a fituation of things* the rule by which 
 all public fpeakers are to guide themfelves is obvi- 
 ous and eafy. Let each, in the firft place, avoid 
 all imitation of others \ let him give up all preten- 
 tions 
 
1 66 LECTURE VH. 
 
 fions to art, for it is certain that it is better to hav< 
 none, than not enough y and no man has enough, 
 who- has not arrived. at fuch a perfection of art, as 
 "wholly to conceal his art ; a thing not to be com- 
 paiTed but by the united endeavours of the beft in- 
 fraction, perfect patterns, and conftant practice. 
 Let him forget that he ever learned to read ; at 
 leaft, let him wholly forget his reading tones. Let 
 him fpeak entirely from his feelings j and they 
 will find much truer figns to manifeft themfelves 
 by, than he could find for them. Let him always 
 have in view, what the chief end of fpeaking is ; 
 and he will fee the neceflity of the means propofed 
 to anfwer the end. The chief end of all public 
 fpeakers is to perfuad'e ; and in order to perfuade, 
 it is above all things necefTary, that the fpeaker 
 ftould at leaft appear himfelf to believe, what he 
 utters j but this can never be the cafe, where then 
 are any evident marks of affectation or art. On 
 the contrary, when a man delivers himfelf in his 
 ufual manner, and with the fame tones and gefture> 
 that he is accuftomed to ufe, when he fpeaks from 
 his heart ; however aukward that manner may be* 
 however ill regulated the tones, he will ftill have 
 the advantage of being thought fincere ; which of 
 all others, is the moll necefTary article, towards 
 fecuring attention and belief \ as affectation of any 
 kind, is the fureftway to deftroy both. 
 
 In, 
 
LECTURE VII. 167 
 
 In elocution, the two great articles are, force, and 
 grace ; the one has its foundation chiefly in nature, 
 the other in art. When united, they mutually 
 fupport each other j when feparated, their powers 
 are very different. Nature can do much without 
 art •, art but little without nature. Nature, affaults 
 the heart j art, 4>lays upon the fancy. Force of 
 fpeaking, will produce emotion and conviction ; 
 grace, only excites pleafure and admiration. As 
 the one is the primary, and the other but a fecon- 
 dary end of fpeech, it is evident, that where one 
 or the other, is wholly to take place, the former 
 fhould have the preference. Grace in elocution, 
 it is hardly poflible to obtain, in the prefent flate 
 of things : force of delivery, is the neceffary remit 
 of a clear head, and warm heart ; provided no bad 
 habits interfere, and the fpeaker fuffers his manner 
 to be regulated wholly by his feelings and concep- 
 tions. 
 
 Perhaps it may be thought, that in reducing all 
 which might be offered on this head, to one limple 
 rule, there has been little done, and that no great 
 improvement is likely to enfue ; or at beft, that by 
 recommending it to each, to follow his own man-v 
 ner, whatever it be, he will be left in the poffeffion 
 of all the faults and defects belonging to that man- 
 ner. It will be urged, that a fyftem of rules, point- 
 ing out what particular tones and geilures, are in 
 0^2 their 
 
1 63 LECTURE VII. 
 
 their own nature, beft adapted to exprefs the fever- 
 al emotions of the mind, would be the true means, 
 to mew how people may arrive at propriety and 
 grace, in thofe ornamental parts of delivery. But 
 they who judge in this manner, have not fufficient- 
 ly confidered the nature of the fubjedt; and there- 
 fore attribute more power to precept alone, than it 
 is poffeffed of. Practical rules, differ much from 
 thofe which are merely fpeculative •, nor will in- 
 forming the underftanding in fome cafes, by any 
 means produce right execution, without other a£» 
 iiftance. Can any one be taught to iing, or to 
 dance, without the aid of mafters, and patterns for 
 imitation ? Why mould we fuppofe then, that the 
 ufe of regular tones and gefture, which are of the 
 fame nature, and founded upon the fame principles, 
 can be acquired any other way ? Should we not 
 laugh at the abfurdity, of any fmging or dancing 
 matter, that mould propofe to inftrudt his pupils 
 only by laying down, each, the rules of his art ; 
 and mewing the practical part by iinging, or danc- 
 ing himfelf, without making his pupils alfo prac- 
 tice, and correcting every deviation from rule, and 
 every fault in their execution, till it become exact ? 
 Should we not fuppofe, in fuch a cafe, that the pu- 
 pils, at beft, muft become but very awkward, and 
 inaccurate mimics of their manner ? The fame fate 
 muft alfo attend any attempt, to teach the ufe of 
 
 regular 
 
LECTURE VII. ro> 
 
 regular tones and gefture, without purfuing the 
 fame method as is ufed by the matters in their kin-* 
 dred arts. Nothing would be more eafy than to- 
 produce a more comprelienfive fyftem of rules, on 
 that head, than any extant ; but this would be a 
 work of more oftentation than ufe. Were there 
 matters to teach this, in the fame manner as other 
 arts are taught, fuch a fyftem of rules, would not 
 only be ufeful but neceftary. And indeed, with- 
 out fuch a fyftem of rules, to qualify perfons for 
 the office of inftructing pupils methodically in the 
 art, we can never hope to fee proper mafters arife 
 amongft us. Till that comes to pafs, the beft fer- 
 viee I can do, is to inform individuals how they 
 may by their own endeavours arrive at fuch a de- 
 gree of excellence, as they can attain without the 
 aid of mafters ; and I am much deceived if the 
 obfervation of this rule will not be found the only 
 means of accomplishing the point. 
 
 To thofe who imagine, that this would make 
 but little improvement, in the article of delivery, I 
 muft beg leave to obferve, that they have not fuffi- 
 ciently considered, the chief eaufe of its low ftate 
 amongft us. Which is, that an artificial manner, 
 either fromwuearly institution, or fubfequent imita- 
 tion, has in general fupplanted that which is natur- 
 al in moft public fpeakers, and readers ; or in fome 
 degree affected the beft. And this artificial man- 
 ner 
 
 
, 7 o LECTURE VII. 
 
 ner, not being founded on true principles, and al- 
 ways differing from that which is natural, of courfe 
 carries with it evident marks of art and affectation. 
 So that the reftoring a natural manner of delivery, 
 would be bringing about an entire revolution, in 
 its moft effential parts. And if I can fhew, that 
 after a perfon has made himfelf matter of the fun- 
 damental points, which have been considered at 
 large in the former lectures, nothing elfe would be 
 wanting, to anfwer the great purpofes cf delivery, 
 and to obtain him the character of an excellent 
 fpeaker, in proportion to his natural talents ; if I 
 can fhew too, that it is in the power of every one 
 to compafs this point, if he ferioufly applies to it ; 
 I cannot but think, that every end, which could 
 reafonably be expected from a courfe of this nature, 
 will be fully anfwered. 
 
 I know the objection ready to be ftarted againft 
 this method is,- what has been already mentioned, 
 that if every one follows his own manner, the faults 
 belonging to that manner, muft of courfe accompa- 
 ny his delivery. 'Tis granted ; and it were to be 
 wifhed, that a way were opened, by which fpeak- 
 crs might be cured of all faults, in all the parts of 
 delivery ; but as this is impofiible, without the aid 
 of matters j and fince through want of matters, 
 faults there mutt be ; the queftion is, whether a 
 perfon fhould take up with his own, cr thofe of 
 
 another ? 
 
LECTURE VIE rjt 
 
 another ? A man's own faults, fit eafy on Him ;• 
 habit has given them the air of being natural ; : 
 thofe of another, are not aflumed without awk- 
 wardnefs y they are evidently artificial. Where 
 truth is concerned, the very faults of a fpeaker 
 which feem natural, are more agreeable to the hear- 
 er, than fuch beauties as are apparently borrowed j 
 in the fame manner as the moft indifferent natural- 
 complexion, is preferred by thofe whofe tafce is not 
 corrupted, to the fmeft painted fkin. It is often 
 feen, that the motions and addrefs of a man, awk* 
 wardly formed, appear more graceful, on account 
 of their eafe, than thofe of the beft fhaped, who 
 ape the manner of others ; and who fhew an evi- 
 dent attention to their deportment ; for that, muft- 
 always be the cafe of copyifts. 
 
 But befldes, in the prefent flate of elocution, no 
 one need be apprehensive of fufrering by faults of 
 this kind ; for they will either not be perceived by 
 the general eye, or be overlooked by the moft. cri- 
 tical. It has been already obferved, that he who 
 is matter even of the rudiments, pafTes amongft us 
 for a good fpeaker •, and if to thefe, force be fuper- 
 added in his manner, we have every thing that we 
 require in a good delivery. Grace and harmony, 
 as they are fcarce known amongft us, fo are they 
 in general out of the queftion. Nothing can fhock 
 us, in the manner of delivery, but fome manifeft 
 
 abfurdity, 
 
i-2 LECTURE VIL 
 
 abfurdity, or impropriety. He who fpeaks from 
 his heart, can never fall into any abfurdity in his 
 manner; this is what they only are liable to,. who 
 adopt the manner of another, or are governed by 
 imperfect, or ill founded rules of art. And with 
 refpect to impropriety, as that confifts in offending 
 againft fome general known rule, where no fuel 
 rules exift, there can be no perceptible impropriety. 
 Singularity of manner, is far from giving us am 
 idea of impropriety, becaufe it is fo cuftomary, as 
 to feem conformable to the very genius of the na- 
 tion. Nor is Angularity of manner, in the prefent 
 ftate of elocution, prejudicial to the main object of 
 delivery; the reafon of this will be immediately 
 perceived, when we confider the difference between 
 impropriety in the. ufe of words, as figns of our 
 ideas, and that of tones and gefture, as figns of our 
 emotions. Words being made by compact figns of 
 cur ideas, have a general meaning annexed to them, 
 in which all are agreed ; and he who is lingular in, 
 his ufe of them, and annexes any other Signification 
 to them, than what is eftablifhed by fuch general 
 agreement, renders himfelf unintelligible, and is 
 guilty of a manifeft impropriety. But the ufe of 
 tones and, gefture, as marks of our emotions, not 
 having been eftablifhed amongft us, by any fuch 
 general compact; at leaft there being but very few 
 that have any fettled Significance ; each individual, 
 
 has 
 
LECTURE VII. 175 
 
 has a proportional latitude, to adopt fuch as he 
 thinks proper, for his own life. Amongft the 
 Greeks and Romans indeed, by whom the language 
 of emotions, was as well regulated, and univerfally* 
 understood, as the language of ideas ; any change, 
 in the ufe of eftabhfhed tones and gefture, was 
 looked upon to be as great an impropriety, as the 
 ufe of words, in a different fenfe from what cuf- 
 tom had annexed to them. And the fame holds 
 good alfo in France, Spain, and Italy, fo far as fuch 
 figns are adopted into generel ufe. But for the 
 reafons before afligned, it is not fo with us. Each 
 man, has in a great meafure, a language of his 
 own, by which he expreffes his emotions. If it be 
 faid, that fuch a diverfity in the ufe of this lan- 
 guage, rauft be attended with as bad conferences, 
 as the confufion of the tongues at Babel, and ren- 
 der it impomble for men to under fland the mean- 
 ing of each other's figns ; in anfwer to this, it is to 
 be obferved, that there is an efTential difference be- 
 tween the two languages, as to their intelligibility, 
 or mode of underfbnding them. The language o£ 
 ideas, cannot pombly be underftood, without an 
 agreement in the ufe of the fame figns or words ; 
 but the language of emotions, when afTociated to 
 words, requires no fuch agreement in the ufe of 
 the fame figns, to point out their fignincancy. For, 
 is words fhew the ideas which pafs in the mind of 
 
 the 
 
he 
 
 174 LECTURE VII. 
 
 the fpeaker, and which are the caufes of his emo* 
 tions, the nature of the figns by which the fpeaker 
 manifefts thofe emotions, is at the fame time fully 
 difplayed. On the other hand, it is not in the 
 power of the language of emotions, to give us the 
 leaft infight into the language of ideas ; for if 
 perfon, fpeaking an unknown tongue, fhould a< 
 company his words with the moft animated gef- 
 ture, expreflive looks, and Significant tones \ though 
 we may perfectly understand the nature of his 
 emotions, and partake of his feelings, yet it is im- 
 pofiible, without an interpreter, to know the caufe 
 of them, or the particular ideas in the mind of the 
 fpeaker, that gave them birth. But mould three 
 natives of France, Spain, and Italy, relate the fame 
 thing fucceflively to one, who underftood their fev- 
 eral tongues, with tones, looks, and geftures, en- 
 tirely different from each other, he would not only 
 underftand the meaning of their words, but of 
 their concomitant figns alfo. In this cafe the lan- 
 guage of ideas, illuftrates all the different languages 
 of emotion, in the fame manner as the fun illu- 
 minates the feveral planets *, which, dark in them- 
 felves, mine only by reflected light. 
 
 This being the cafe, perfons who are advanced in 
 life, need not have any folicitude, about the delica- 
 cies and graces of delivery ; force and expreflion, 
 will anfwer all their ends j and thefe, it is in their 
 
 own 
 
LECTURE VII. 175* 
 
 own power to give, to their external marks, in pro- 
 portion to what paries within their minds, only by 
 indulging their feelings, and avoiding all affectation 
 and art. Of this we have as many inflances in pri- 
 vate life, as we meet with perfons who fpeak from 
 their hearts, upon any topic, or incident which near- 
 ly concerns them. And if we feldom meet with it 
 in public difcourfes, it is either, becaufe the fpeak- 
 ers, have not their hearts affected by the fubje'&s, 
 upon which they harangue ; or becaufe, an artifi- 
 cial manner, for the reafons before mentioned, has 
 fupplanted that of the natural kind. This it was 
 which Betterton meant by his reply to the Bifhop 
 of London j who afking him on a certain occafion, 
 (( What could be. the reafon, that whole audiences 
 « fhould be moved to tears, and have all forts of 
 <c pafiions excited, at the reprefentation of fo'me 
 " ftory on the ftage, which they knew to be feign- 
 " ed, and in the event of which, they were not at 
 * s all concerned ; yet that the fame perfons, fhould 
 h. fit fo utterly unmoved, at difcourfes from the pul- 
 ¥ pit, upon fubjects of the utmoft importance to 
 " them, relative not only to their temporal, but al- 
 * l fo their eternal interefls ?" He received from 
 Betterton this memorable reply : " My Lord, it is 
 f becaufe we are in earnefl." And indeed who- 
 ever is in earneft when he fpeaks in public, pro- 
 vided he be free from any defects, in the funda- 
 R mental 
 
e- 
 
 i 
 
 ks 
 
 176 LECTURE VII. 
 
 mental parts of delivery, will anfwer every end of 
 elocution in thefe times, and pafs for an excellent 
 fpeaker ; and I am much deceived, if it is not to 
 this point chiefly, that thofe who are reckoned the 
 beft fpeakers at this day, are indebted for their re 
 putation. Sure I am, that the advantages whic 
 the Methodift teachers have obtained over the re 
 gular clergy, in feducing fo many of their flock 
 from them, have been wholly owing to this. For 
 were they to read their nonfenfe from notes, in the 
 fame cold, artificial manner, that fo many of the 
 clergy deliver rational difcourfes, it is to be prefum- 
 ed, that there are few of mankind, fuch ideots, as 
 to become their followers ; or who would not pre- 
 fer fenfe to nonfenfe, if they were cloathed in the 
 fame garb. 
 
 Excepting thefe wild orators, we have few in- 
 ftances of any public fpeakers, who even feem to 
 be in earneft ; and on that account, thofe few who 
 are really fo, raife to themfelves a proportionate 
 degree of admiration. Upon a late public occasion 
 at Oxford, there was a remarkable proof given of 
 this. A perfon, of the firft ffcation* in the Uni- 
 versity, was to addrefs, by virtue of his office, the 
 new elected Chancellor, in the public theatre, and 
 in the prefence of many thoufands. He was no 
 way remarkable for elocution, and this was perhaps 
 the firft time he found himfelf engaged in a fcene J I 
 * The Vice Chancellor. *^ I 
 
LECTURE VII. 177 
 
 of this kind. As he was a man of a fpeculative 
 turn, he had an uncommon fhare, even in private 
 company, of that awkward bafhfulnefs, which is 
 ufuaily the attendant of thofe, who have much 
 commerce with books, and little with the world. 
 Thofe of his acquaintance, therefore, were in paiir 
 for him : and they who knew him only by cha- 
 racter, did not expect that he would acquit himfelf 
 well. But all were pleahngly difappointed. As 
 he had no art, he did not attempt to ufe any. He 
 was really, and at heart pleafed, with the election 
 of the Chancellor,-* and exprelTed himfelf accord- 
 ingly. He received him, with the air of the fame 
 cordial joy, that a man would iliew, on the arrival 
 of a long wiihed for,, noble guefc, under his roof,, 
 whofe prefence would make a fort of little jubilee 
 in the family. His tones were fuch, as refult from 
 a glad heart ; his eyes fparkled with pleafure, an<£ 
 his whole countenance and gefture were in exact 
 unifon. No one was at leifure to examine whether 
 any part of his elocution might have been more 
 graceful ; it was juft, it was forcible, it moved eve- 
 ry one. His eafy, natural, and unaffected manner, 
 which perhaps was fcarcely ever feen before by 
 any of his auditors, in a public fpeaker, excited 
 burfts of univerfal applaufe *, not from proftituted 
 hands, in fupport of party opinions 5 but from 
 hearts, that felt themfelves agitated., by a participa- 
 tion 
 
er 
 
 178 LECTURE VII. 
 
 tion of kindred feelings, refulting from his manner, 
 independent of his matter. 
 
 But that the natural manner of delivery, mould 
 have fuch force, and pafs for the moft excellent 
 kind amongft us, who have never made any at- 
 tempt to ftudy elocution as an art ; is no matt 
 of furprife, when we confider, that even among 
 the Romans, after the art had been introduce 
 and numbers applied themfelves clofely to the flu- 
 dy and practice of it, there was ftill great attention 
 given, and high honour paid to fuch fpeakers, as 
 relied entirely on nature, and had their delivery 
 wholly governed by their emotions. Cicero, in his 
 book Be Oratore, mentions an inftance of this 
 kind in Q^Varius, whom he reprefents, as utterly 
 rude, and ungraceful in his manner, to the laft de- 
 gree 5 yet as one who had obtained a great weight 
 at Rome, by his power of fpeaking, fuch as it was. 
 
 This point being allowed, it. is evidently in the 
 power of every one, to deliver himfelf with fuch 
 force, and acquire fuch a reputation for fpeaking, 
 as he is entitled to by his natural talents. There 
 are few public fpeakers who have not. two kinds of 
 delivery t, one for public, the other for private ufe. 
 The one, artificial and conftrained ; the other, nat- 
 ural and eafy. There is therefore nothing more 
 required, than to change one manner for another ; 
 to unlearn the former, and fubftitute the latter in 
 
 its 
 
LECTURE VIL 179 
 
 its room ; of which, each individual is already 
 matter. Had he indeed a new manner to acquire, 
 as well as to get rid of the old, the difficulty would 
 be great *, but when he has only to unlearn a bad 
 habit, and has another ready to ' fiibftitute in its 
 room, it requires nothing but attention, and regu- 
 lar information of his errors, when he falls into 
 them. 
 
 Befide the fources of artificial delivery before 
 mentioned, there is another, with which molt pub- 
 lic fpeakers are unknowingly infected. I mean cer- 
 tain peculiarities which prevail, in each of the three 
 different fpecies of delivery, in the pulpit, the fen- 
 ate houfe, and the bar, both in phrafeology and 
 manner , and thefe, cannot be too ftudioufly avoid- 
 ed. They x have each their particular idioms, and 
 abound with expletives and repletives, accompanied 
 with motions, equally unimportant, and infignifi- 
 cant. Thefe probably, owed their, origin, to imita- 
 tion of the faults (for faults are eafily imitated) of 
 fome of the admired fpeakers, in the feveral branch- 
 es. They have been adopted into fuch general ■ 
 ufe by each fociety, that it is hard for any member 
 of thofe bodies, to avoid catching them* unlefs he 
 be upon his guard againft them. But as it is eafy 
 to know thofe fingularities, fo the being guarded 
 againft them, will prevent new members from fall- 
 ing into them •, and attention and refolution, will 
 R2_ foon 
 
i8o LECTURE VIL 
 
 ibon get the better of them, in thofe, who are at 
 ready infected. It may be faid, that cuftom has {q 
 far fanctified thefe Angularities, that the avoiding 
 them is not an object of any moment ; and that it 
 is at leaft a matter of indifference, whether they 
 are ufed or not. It, is true indeed, that general ufe 
 has rendered them fo familiar, that their deformity 
 is not perceived ; and the practice of them is at- 
 tended with no blame. But on the other hand, he 
 who avoids them is fure to be commended for it, 
 and makes himfelf diftinguifhed on that very ac- 
 count. He that is contented, if he efcapes with- 
 out cenfure, may freely indulge himfelf in the ufe 
 of them ;. but he that would obtain praife, will not 
 furely lofe fo cheap an opportunity of purchaiing 
 it, as that of avoiding general and apparent faults, 
 which will coft him no more pains than a refolu- 
 tion to do fo. 
 
 But a cafe may be put, that fuppofing a man has, 
 by indulging early, bad habits, or from any other 
 caufe, acquired a manner of delivery in private life, 
 and in. his ufual difcourfe, very difagreeable and dif- 
 gufting : fuppoiing he mould have a habit of diftort- 
 ing his features, of ufing awkward and extravagant 
 geftures, and uttering ftrange and difcordant tones 4 
 is he not in fuch a cafe, to endeavour to get the 
 better of thefe, whenever he fpeaks in public, and 
 confequently to avoid that maimer, which from 
 
 habit, 
 
LECTURE VII. i8x 
 
 habit, may be called his natural one ? My anfwer 
 is, that if he thinks of reforming this only in pub- 
 lic, he begins at the wrong end, and will never be 
 able to effect what he delires/. His bufinefs is, to 
 fet about a reformation of all fuch faults, firft, in 
 private life; if by his own attention to it, and the 
 conftant information of his friends, he fhould get 
 the better of them there, of courfe he will be with-? 
 out them alfo in public. But if he fhould conti- 
 nue regardlefs of his private manner, and be only 
 fludious of correcting what is amifs irr public, he 
 wilLiind habit too powerful for him •, and the very 
 attention which he pays to that point, will prevent 
 his entering with earneftnefs into his fubject, and 
 give a conftrained air to all that he delivers. So 
 that though a man cannot give too much attention 
 in private, to the correction of faulty habits, yet he 
 fhould' utterly forget that. he has any fuch when he 
 fpeaks in public ; for by fuch recollection and at* 
 tention, he will lofe force, without acquiring grace ; 
 which is incompatible with any apparent folicitude 
 about it. Nor need a perfon^ even though he 
 fhould not be able wholly to fubdue habits of that 
 fort, be in any pain- about it ; as the frequency of 
 faults, and Angularities in that way, pleads their ex- 
 cufe. Defendit numerus. Venlam petimufque damuf- 
 que vic'iffim. He is kept in countenance by num- 
 bers, who partaking of fimilar faults, mutually give 
 
 and 
 
rSz LECTURE 'VII. 
 
 and receive indulgence from each other. Singu- 
 larity of manner in any fpeaker only ftrikes at firft. 
 After a few times, it is no longer taken notice of 
 by the hearers \ and if a ftranger obferves upon it 
 to fuch as are his ufual auditors, the common an- 
 fwer is, " Oh, that's his way " and this puts an 
 end to all farther remarks. Faults which from 
 conftant habit appear natural to a man, have an 
 eafe with them which takes away their difagree- 
 ablenefs, when one is a little ufed to them ; but 
 faults from affectation, or imitating the manner of 
 others, are for ever difgufting, becaufe they are ap- 
 parently artificial. To contract bad habits of one's 
 own is rather the fault of the times, than the man. 
 He is unconfcious of them •, he continues in them, 
 through want of inftruction, and information : few, 
 or none are without them *, they meet readily there- 
 fore with indulgence. But to imitate and adopt 
 the faulty manner of others, is a voluntary act, it 
 is done with the eyes open ; and as it betrays an 
 error in judgment, will not admit of the fame ex- 
 cufe, nor be allowed the fame indulgence, by peo- 
 ple of any difcernment. 
 
 Upon the whole, there are two kinds of language, 
 neceiTary to all who would wiih to anfwer the end 
 of public fpeaking. The one is, the language of 
 ideas ; by which the thoughts which pafs in a man's 
 mind, are manifefted to others ; and this language 
 
 is 
 
 
LECTURE VII. 183 
 
 is- compofed chiefly of words properly ranged, and 
 divided into fentences. The other, is the language 
 of emotions ; by which the effects that thofe 
 thoughts have upon the mind of the fpeaker, in 
 exciting the paflions, affections, and all manner of 
 feelings, are not only made known, but communi- 
 cated, to others ; and this language is compofed of 
 tones, looks, and gefture. The office of a public 
 fpeaker is, to inftruct, to pleafe, and to move. If 
 he does not inftrucl:, his difcourfe is impertinent ; 
 and if he does not pleafe, he will not have it in his 
 power to inftruct, for he will not gain attention ; 
 and if he does not move, he will not pleafe, for 
 where there is no emotion, there can be no plea- 
 fure.. To move therefore, mould be the iirft great 
 object of every public fpeaker ; and for this pur- 
 pofe, he muft ufe the language of emotions, not 
 that of ideas alone, which of itfelf has no power of 
 moving. It is evident, in the ufe of the language 
 of emotions, that he who is properly moved, and 
 at the fame time delivers himfelf, in fuch tones, as 
 delight the ear with their harmony ; accompanied 
 by fuch looks and geftures, as pleafe the eye with 
 their grace ; whilft the unclerftanding alfo perceives 
 their propriety *, is in the firft clafs, and muft be 
 accounted a. mafter. In this cafe, the united en- 
 deavours of art and nature, produce that degree of 
 perfection, which is no other way to be obtained, 
 
 in 
 
r£ 4 LECTURE VII. 
 
 in any thing that is the workmanfhip of man. 
 Next to him, is the fpeaker, who gives way to his 
 emotions without thinking of regulating their figns ; 
 and trufts to the force of nature, imfolicitous about 
 the graces of art. And the worft is he, who ufes 
 tones and: geftures, which he has borrowed from 
 others, and which, not being the refult of his feel- 
 ings, are likely to be mifapplied, and to be void of 
 propriety, force, and grace. But he who is utterly 
 without all language of emotions, who confines him- 
 felf to the mere utterance of words, without any 
 concomitant figns, is not to be clafTed at all amongft 
 public fpeakers. The very worft abufe of fuch 
 figns, is preferable to a total want of them ; as it 
 has at leaft a ftronger refemblance to nature. There 
 is no emotion of the mind, which nature does not 
 make an effort to manifeft, by fome of thofe figns ; 
 and therefore a total fuppreffion of thofe figns, is 
 of all other ftates, apparently the moft unnatural. 
 And this, it is to be feared, is too much the ftate 
 of the pulpit elocution in general, in the Church of 
 England. On which account, there never was 
 perhaps a religious feci: upon earth, whofe hearts 
 were fo little engaged in the act of public worfhip 
 as the members of that Church. To be pleafed, 
 we mufl feel; and we are pleafed with feeling. 
 The Prefbyterians are moved; the Methodifts are 
 moved ; they go to their meetings, and tabernacles, 
 
 with 
 
LECTURE VII. 185 
 
 with delight. The very Quakers are moved. Fan- 
 taftical, and extravagant as the language of their 
 emotions is, yet fiill they are moved by it, and they 
 love their form of worfhip for that reafon. W.hilft 
 much the greater part of the members of the Eng- 
 lish Church, are either banifhed from it through 
 <lifguft, or reluctantly attend the fervice as a di£- 
 agreeahle duty. 
 
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