JHH1 H B iililiil bbWJ SM ■Hi IS RHi IB* ■WJ i, BBB bbbI ■81 Hi tt.r ■ ■ ■ bH bbb1 ■I . bsVJ ■1 :•$■ ■ ■ ■ bbh ■ 1 ■ ■ BBBBBBBfl BBS BJ ■■ 1 ■ Bfl BBBBB hrf B ■ IPJIH lUXi Bft iBi Glass "FHq uy Book W ^3 A RHETORICAL GRAMMAR; IN WHICH THE COMMON IMPROPRIETIES IN READING AND SPEAKING ARE DETECTED, AND THE TRUE SOURCES OF ELEGANT PRONUNCIATION ARE POINTED OUT. ' WITH A COMPLETE ANALYSIS OF THE VOICE, SHOWIXG ITS SPECIFIC MODIFICATIONS, AND HOW THEY MAY BE APPLIED TO DIFFERENT SPECIES OF SENTENCES AND THE SEVERAL FIGURES OF RHETORIC. TO WHICH ARE ADDED OUTLINES OF COMPOSITION, OR PLAIN RULE / FOR WRITING ORATIONS AND SPEAKING THEM IN PUELIC BY JOHN WALKER, Author^ The Critical Pronouncing Dictionary, Elements of Elocution, &c. Est autem in dicendo etiam quidam cantus.— Cic. Or of. SECOND AMERICAN EDITION. BOSTON: PUBLISHED BY CUMMIXGS AND HILLIAUD, XO. I OORNHILL. Unir. Press — Hilliard & Metcalf. 1822. .W 3 3 a, a- TO Dr. SAMUEL JOHNSON, IF the conferring of benefits be what commonly constitutes a patron. — to students in elocution you are the greatest patron in the kingdom. You not only first awakened the public to an attention to their lan- guage, but, by an Herculean labour, afforded them a guide which has conducted them to a thousand im- provements. This was sufficient to attract the ad- miration and acknowledgments of your country, if you had not shown, by your moral and critical writ- ings, that, though you were the only person proper to undertake so laborious a task, you were almost the only one who ought to have been exempted from it. But though I am proud of an opportunity of confessing my obligations to your public labours, I am much more ambitious of telling the world, that I have been long honoured with the friendship and advice of IV DEDICATION. him whose name will be mentioned among the Lockes, the Newtons, and the Fenelons, as the friend of reve- lation, and whose life is an indisputable proof of the sincerity of his attachment to it. I am, sir, With the greatest respect, Your obliged Humble Servant, J. WALKER. PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. The present edition is almost a new work. The praxis of sentences, so arranged as to lead the pupil from the easiest to the most difficult, seemed better calculated for the lower class of pupils in reading than for students in rhetoric, and therefore this has been omitted. The want of rules for composition, so essential m rhetoric, has been supplied from the best source — Blair's Lectures : and what was de- ficient even in these has been furnished from Pro- fessor Ward's Lectures on Oratory : — so that with the original matter on the elegant pronunciation of words, on accent, emphasis, and inflection of voice, and the proper pronunciation of the figures of rhet- oric, it is presumed the present work is the most perfect of its kind in the language. A powerful motive, indeed, for enlarging the Rhetorical Grammar to its present size, was, to give a complete idea of the two circumflexes of the speaking voice. The two simple inflections, the rising and falling, had been several times delineated on copper- plates, in Elements of Elocution ; but the two complex inflections, called circumflexes, though frequently described, had not been marked out to the eye ; and these appeared so inseparable from the human voice, so new, and of such real utility in teaching to read and speak, that I could PREFACE. scarcely think I had discharged my duty to my country till I had given these modifications of the speaking voice as clear an explanation as I was able. The sanguine expectations I had once entertain- ed, that this analysis of the human voice would be received by the learned with avidity and applause, are now over. I have almost worn out a long life in laborious exertions ; and, though I have succeed- ed beyond expectation in forming readers and speakers in the most respectable circles in the three kingdoms, yet I have had the mortification to find few of my pupils listen to any thing but my pro- nunciation. When I have explained to them the five modifications of the voice, they have assented and admired ; but so difficult did it appear to adopt them, especially to those advanced in life, that I was generally obliged to follow the old method, (if it may be called so) " read as I read, without any reason for it." — But without pretending to the gift of prophecy, I think I can foresee, that sooner or later these distinctions of the voice must become the vehicle of instruction in reading and speaking. It is not improbable that the active genius of the French, who are so remarkably attentive to their language, may first adopt this vehicle ; and if this should happen, I hope it will be remembered, that an unassisted and unpatronized Englishman was the first who discovered and explained it. 20 CONTENTS. Page, Introduction - - - - - - - -11 Observations on some of the Principal Faults in the Pronun- ciation of the generality of Pupils, with the Methods of cor- recting them If Too slightly sounding the Unaccented Vowels - - - 18 Wavering and uncertain Pronunciation of the Vowels under the Secondary Accent - - The Liquid Sound of K, C, or G, hard, before the Vowels A and I ------ 22 The Liquid Sound of T, D, S, and soft C, after the Accent before the Semiconsonant Diphthongs - - - - 24 Suppressing the Sound of the Final Consonants - 26 The rough and smooth Sound of R - - 28 Hissing too much the Terminations tion and sion - - 50 Pronouncing S indistinctly after ST - - - - ib. Pronouncing W for V, and inversely - - - - 31 Not sounding H after W 32 Not sounding H where it ought to be sounded, and inversely 33 Suppressing E where it should be pronounced, and pronounc- ing it where it should be suppressed 34 Observations on the Pronunciation of certain Words most fre- quently mistaken in reading - - - 35 The true Sound of the Auxiliary Verbs : also, when ed makes a distinct Syllable, and when not ib. When you is to be pronounced like ye, and my like me - 37 When of, for, from, and by, are to have a long, and when a short Sound -_-.._ > _ 40 How to pronounce the Possessive thy 42 How to pronounce the Adjective Possessive mine - 45 The indistinct Sound of the word not - - - 47 How to pronounce the Participial Termination ing - - 48 How to pronounce the Word to when succeeded by you - 49 Reading defined— -lis Relation to Speaking - - 50 Vlll CONTENTS. Tage. General Idea of the common Doctrine of Punctuation - 53 Rhetorical Punctuation ------ 59 Practical System of Rhetorical Punctuation - - - 65 Of Visible Punctuation - - - - - - ib. Rules for Pausing 68 The principal Pause in the Compact Sentence - - - ib. The principal Pause in the Loose Sentence 70 The subordinate Pause in the Compact Sentence - - 71 Audible Punctuation 82 Explanation of the Inflections of the Voice - - - 85 Explanation of Plate the First 87 The different States of the Voice - - - - 89 Practical System of the Inflections of voice - - - 91 Compact Sentence — Direct Period with Two Conjunctions ib. Direct Period with One Conjunction - 94 Inverted Period 97 Loose Sentence 98 Orthoepial Figures, or Figures of Pronunciation - - - 101 The Interrogation 102 The indefinite Question ib. The definite Question 104 The Exclamation 106 The Parenthesis - - - 109 The Commencement - - - - - - 112 The Contrast 114 The Series - - 116 The Commencing Series - - - -* - -118 The Concluding Series - - - - > - 119 The Question and Answer - - - - - - 121 The Echo 123 The Antecedent - - - - - - - 127 The Variation - - - - - - - - 130 The Period and the Method of forming a Cadence 133 On Accented Force - 137 On Emphatic Force I s8 What it is that constitutes Emphasis - - - - 141 On the different Forces of Emphatic Words - - 145 On the propriety of marking Emphatic Words - - 148 A method of marking the different Forces of Words 149 CONTENTS, IX Page. Utility of understanding the different Inflections and differ- ent Forces of Words ------ 155 Rules for reading Verse ------ 159 Of the Accent and Emphasis of Verse - 162 When the Poetical Accent is to be preserved, and when not 164 How e and o, when apostrophised, are to be pronounced 169 Of the Pause or Caesura of Verse - 170 Of the Cadence of Verse 172 How to pronounce a Simile in Poetry - ib # On Blank Verse - - - - - - - 178 Explanation of the figures of Rhetoric, — with Directions for the proper Method of pronouncing them - 179 Metaphor 182 Allegory - - - - - - - - -ib. Metonymy --- 183 Synecdoche -------- 184 Hyperbole - ib. Catachresis - -ib. Irony --------- 185 Ecphonesis 187 Erotesis 190 Aparithmesis ; or Enumeration, Gradation, and Climax 194 Epanaphora - - 198 Prolepsis 202 Synchoresis -------- 204 Epanorthosis 206 Anastrophe - r 208 Apostrophe --------- 210 Asyndeton and Polysyndeton 211 Enantiosis - 215 Paralepsis 218 Anacoenosis 220 Hypotyposis - - - 222 Vision - - 233 Simile 236 Prosopopseia 240 Modulation and Management of the Voice - 245 Instructions for acquiring Low Tones of Voice - - 247 Instructions for acquiring High Tones of Voice - - 248 * OONTENTS. Page. Instructions for the Management of the Voice - - 249 Rules for Gesture ------- 253 On Composition - 256 On Style, Perspicuity, and Precision - - - 262 On the Structure of Sentences - 267 On the Strength of Sentences 272 On the Harmony of Sentences - 279 The general Characters of Style — Diffuse, concise, &c. 286 Directions for forming a proper Style - 292 Of the Distribution of Oratory - 303 Of Invention 304 Of external Topics - 314 Of the State of a Controversy - - - - - 324 Of Arguments suited to Demonstrative Discourses - 333 Of Arguments suited to Deliberative Discourses - - 343 Of Arguments suited to Judicial Discourses - - 351 Of the Character and address of an Orator - . - - 362 Of the Passions 370 INTRODUCTION. Rhetoric, or the art of persuasion, is of such importance in the great concerns of society, that it is not surprising so much has been written on this subject in every age and nation, where the arts and sciences have been cultivated. The power of pleas- ing and persuading those whom we address has excit- ed every faculty in the mind of man, to detect, if pos- sible, the secret springs of that pleasure and persua- sion, which give us such dominion over the feelings of our fellow creatures. The ancients have left us everlasting monuments of their excellence in this art, and, in their endeavours to investigate the principles of it, have descended to such niceties as we think childish and insignificant : but that branch of oratory which Demosthenes called the first, the second, and the third part of it, and which was so assiduously cultivated by the ancients — that, alas ! perished with them, and left their com- positions like a lifeless corpse, beautiful in death, but deprived of all that vigour and energy, which agitated and astonished their wondering auditors. We hear Xll INTRODUCTION. at this distance but a faint echo of that thunder iu Demosthenes, which shook the throne of Macedon to its foundations, and are sometimes at a loss for that conviction in the arguments of Cicero, which balanced, in the midst of convulsions, the tottering republic of Rome. This part of rhetoric, which consists in pronuncia- tion and action, and which may be called the soul of oratory, is, from its very nature, less capable of being communicated by writing, and has therefore been less improved by the joint labours of succeeding ages ; and thus, while invention, disposition, and elocution, in the ancient sense of the word, have been cultivated by the moderns to the highest degree of perfection, pronunciation or delivery has scarcely attained medi- ocrity. The importance, however, of this part of oratory has induced several ingenious men to give the outlines of it upon paper, and to describe, as well as they were able, those variations of voice, which the various structure and import of a sentence seemed to require. Numberless have been the attempts to mark to the eye some of those modifications of tone and in- flection, which form the essence of a good enunciation. Pauses, dashes, and notes of interrogation, exclama- tion, and parentheses, are but so many attempts to fa- cilitate the delivery of written language, and, if prop- erly adapted, have undoubtedly a considerable use. Nay, marking the emphatic words in a different char- acter is sometimes found highly advantageous ; but INTRODUCTION. Xlll the most simple, the most marking, and the most use- ful method of all, seems hitherto to have been entirely neglected,— and that is distinguishing the speaking voice into its two essential turns or inflections, the ris- ing and the falling. This neglect is the more remark- able, as the want of some such distinction of the voice has unquestionably been the occasion, that so little progress has been made in conveying the art of speak- ing upon paper, and teaching it by rules. Almost all our writers on this subject, after giving rules for pausing, tell us there are certain tones and inflections of voice, which are of much more impor- tance to the meaning of the words we read than the points we make use of, however judiciously adapted. But here they generally leave us. The interrogation and exclamation points, indeed, are said not only to require suitable pauses, but likewise an elevation of voice, and the parenthesis a moderate depression of it. Mr. Perry, in his English Grammar, has gone so far as to tell us, that the interrogation, when it does not begin with the relative, who, which, or what, or the adverbs how, where, when, &c. requires an eleva- tion of voice ; and an old writer, Charles Butler, of Magdalen college, Oxford, has in his English Gram- mar gone one step farther, and told us, that this spe- cies of interrogation not only requires an elevation but a different turn of voice. Here was a hint which one would have imagined would have set some gram- marian at work to inquire w r hat this turn of voice XIV INTRODUCTION. was : but more than a hundred years passed without any such inquiry ; till the author of the present work, about twenty years ago, when he was preparing to give lessons at Oxford, and trying every method to gain some permament modifications of the speaking voice, in order to form some certain rules for reading or adapting the voice to the structure and meaning of a sentence, observed, that every word had necessarily either an upward or a downward turn, or continued in a monotone. This distinction he thought of such importance as to make him hope it might attract the notice of the public ; and he accordingly introduced it, in a work called Elements of Elocution, but found no notice taken of it, till within these last three or four years, and then very imperfectly. About ten years ago he observed, that these two turns, the up- ward and the downward, were sometimes united on the same syllable, or, as it may be called, in the same explosion of voice, and formed a compound turn, eith- er beginning with the upward and ending with the downward, or vice versa, and these compound turns he called circumflexes. Here he began to flatter himself that he had made a discovery, and found means to bind that varying Proteus, the speaking voice ; as he conceived that there was no tortuous or zigzag turn in speaking which might not be reduced to one of these modifications, and, consequently, that he had some permanent data on which to found a system of rhetorical pronunciation. INTRODUCTION. XV It is to the novelty and utility of this distinction that the author claims the attention of the public. He has already written largely on it, but has still something to add. By the blessing of Providence he has lived long enough to see the truth of his princi- ples universally assented to, and, in some instances, adopted in practice. The utility of them he is fully persuaded of by a thousand experiments ; but of this the public at large are undoubtedly the best judges. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR That part of rhetorick, which relates to composi- tion, has been so elaborately treated both by the an- cients and moderns, that I shall in some measure invert the common order, and at first chiefly confine myself to that branch of it, which relates to pronun- ciation and delivery. Preparatory to this it will be necessary to settle the pronunciation of several letters, syllables, and words, which are not only often mispronounced by the younger class of pupils, but which are frequently little understood by those, who are more advanced in the art. Without quoting Quintillian, we may easily conclude, that, if these first principles of speaking are not distinctly and accurate- ly learned, whatever we may acquire afterward must be faulty and erroneous. I shall therefore begin with settling the true pronunciation of those letters, syllables, and words, which are the most liable to be mistaken by the generality of readers and speakers. OBSERVATIONS ON SOME OF THE PRINCIPAL FAULTS IN THE PRONUNCIATION OF THE GENERALITY OF PU- Too slightly sounding the accented vowels. One of the most general faults in reading is a slight, short, mincing pronunciation of the accented vowels. 3 18 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. This produces a harsh, insignificant, and trifling sound of the words, instead of that bold, round, mel- low tone, which ought to be considered as the basis of speaking. The vowels, which ought most to be at- tended to, are the a and o. E is the slenderest of all the vowels, and i and u are diphthongs, which terminate in slender sounds, and do not afford a sufficient quan- tity of sound to gratify and fill the ear ; but the a in all its three sounds, in bare, bar, and ivar; fatal, father, and water; has a bold, full sound, which the ear dwells upon with pleasure. The sound of o likewise, when lengthened by e final, as in tone, or ending a syllable, as in noble, &c. may be prolonged with great satisfaction to the ear ; and it is to a judicious prolongation of the sound of these vowels, that pro- nunciation owes one of its greatest beauties. Words of this kind should therefore be selected and pronounc- ed, first by the teacher, and afterward by the pupil, slowly and distinctly. Too slightly sounding the unaccented vowels. There is an incorrect pronunciation of the letter u, when it ends a syllable not under the accent, which not only prevails among the vulgar, but is sometimes found in better company ; and that is, giving the u an obscure sound, which confounds it with vowels of a very different kind. Thus we not unfrequently hear singular, regular, and particular, pronounced as if written sing~e4ar, reg-e-lar, and par-tick-e-lar ; but nothing tends more to impoverish and vulgarise the pronunciation, than this short and obscure sound of the unaccented u. It may, indeed, be observed, that there is scarcely any thing more distinguishes a per- son of a mean from one of a good education, than the RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 19 pronunciation of the unaccented vowels. When vow- els are under the accent, the prince and the lowest of the people, with very few exceptions, pronounce them in the same manner : but the unaccented vowels, in the mouth of the former, have a distinct, open, and specific sound ; while the latter often totally sink them, or change them into some other sound. Those, therefore, who wish to pronounce elegantly, must be particularly attentive to the unaccented vowels, as a neat pronunciation of these forms one of the greatest beauties of speaking. The other vowels, when unaccented, are liable to nearly the same indistinctness and obscurity as the u. The first e in event, the first o in opinion, and the i in sensible, terrible, &c. are apt to go into an obscure sound, approaching to short u, as if written uvvent uppinion, sensubble, terrubble, &c. while polite pro- nunciation, that is the least deliberate, requires these vowels to be heard nearly as distinctly, and with as much purity, as when under the accent. Thus the e in event should be pronounced nearly as e in equal ; the o in opinion, as that in open ; the i in the unaccented terminations ible, ity, and at the end of other syllables not under the accent, ought to have the sound of e, and this sound to be preserved distinct and pure, as if written sen-se-ble, ter-re-ble, de-ver-se-ty, u-ne- verse- ty, &c. : nay, so strong a tendency has a good speaker to open the vowels e and 0, when ending a syllable immediately before the accent, that we frequently hear these vowels in the words effect, efface, occasion, offence, &c. pronounced as if the consonant were sin- gle : this is certainly a deviation from rule, but it is so general among polite speakers, and so agreeable 20 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. to the ear, as to be a distinguishing mark of elegant pronunciation. For the sound of unaccented a, of e before r, and i, when it has the diphthongal sound like eye, see Critical Pronouncing Dictionary, in the principles prefixed, at Nos. 92, 98, 114, 115, &c. 554. Wavering and uncertain pronunciation of vowels under the secondary accent The secondary accent is that stress we may occa- sionally place upon another syllable, beside that which has the principal accent, in order to pronounce every part of the word more distinctly, forcibly, and harmoniously. Thus this accent is on the first syl- lable of conversation, commendation, and the principal accent on the third. But from a want of attending to the analogies of the language, our best orthoepists have been at the greatest loss for the quantity of the vowel under the secondary accent, when followed by a single consonant. This may be seen at large in Principles prefixed to the Critical Pronouncing Dic- tionary, No. 530, &c. It will be only necessary to observe here, that those polysyllables, which have the principal accent on the third syllable, whether we place a secondary accent on the first syllable or not, have every vowel, except u, in that syllable, unless an inverted diphthong succeed, invariably short. Thus the o in the first syllable of proposition, provocation, ■profanation, the a in the first of lamentation, the e in demonstration, and the i in the first of diminution, are all short : but if an inverted diphthong succeed the first syllable, every vowel except i retains its open sound, as amiability, deviation, filiation, spoliation, du- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 21 biosity, &c. Where it may be observed that the u is always pronounced long and open, though under the secondary accent, as lucubration, cumulation, &c. There is the greater necessity for the observation of this rule, as it tends to give a firmness and decis- ion to a part of pronunciation, which is very loosely and variously marked in most of our pronouncing dictionaries. A vague idea of the propriety of pre- serving the simple in the compound, and of distin- guishing the inseparable preposition from the rest of the word, makes many, who are but superficially acquainted with the analogies of the language, wil- ling to show their precision by pronouncing the o in proposition as open as that in propose, and the e in preparation like that in prepare ; but a larger view of the language would have shown these critics, this would be to overturn the most settled analogies of pronunciation. If we attend to those sounds which the English ear has almost universally received and acknowledged, we shall find the result to be this general rule. When a penultimate vowel, with the accent upon it, ends a syllable, before a single con- sonant, that vowel is long and open, as paper, decent, silence, local, lucid, &c. — but when any antepenulti- mate vowel, except «, is under the same predicament, it is short, asfabiilous, delicate, diligence, providence, luculent. This genuine analogy of English pronun- ciation has been crossed and counteracted by an affec- tation of reducing our quantity to that of the Latin ; but, though this pedantry has prevailed in words of two syllables, where, to the great injury of the sound of our language, it has reduced long vowels to short ones, it has made little alteration in polysyllables, 2S RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. where we find the antepenultimate, or preantepenulti- mate, accent still preserves its shortening power, not- withstanding the attempts of some speakers to pro- nounce the first e in legislature, and the first o in prop- osition, long. An Englishman, therefore, who wishes to follow that path, which nature (or, which is nearly the same, unpremeditated custom) has chalked out, will, as far as polite usage will permit him, pronounce the penultimate vowel long and open, and the antepe- nultimate short and shut. Thus a proper mixture of long and short vowels will be preserved, and the ear be indulged in that vernacular propensity, which na- ture seems to have given it. See this explained at large in Principles of Eng- lish Pronunciation, prefixed to the Critical Pro- nouncing Dictionary, Nos. 544, 545, &c. and Key to the Classical Pronunciation of Greek and Latin Prop- er Names, page xxv, No. 18, &c. Liquid sound of K, C, or G hard, before the vowels A and L There is a iluent liquid sound of these consonants before the two vowels a and i, which gives a smooth and elegant sound to the words in which they occur, and which distinguishes the polite pronunciation of London from that of every other part of the island. This pronunciation is nearly as if the a and i were preceded by e. Thus, kind is sounded as if written ke-ind ; card, as ke-ard; and regard, as re-ge-ard. When these vowels are pronounced short, as in cab- bage, gander, kindle, &c. the interposition of the sound of e is very perceptible, and indeed unavoida- ble ; for though we can pronounce guard, cart, and RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. £3 kind, without interposing the e, we cannot pronounce carriage, garrison, and kindred in the same manner. The words that require this liquid sound in the k, c, and g hard, are but few. Ski/, kind, guide, gird, girt, girl, guise, guile, card, cart, carp, carpenter, car- pet, carve, carbuncle, carnal, cartridge, guard, and regard; — these and their compounds are perhaps the only words where this sound occurs ; but these words are so much in use as to be sufficient to mark a speak- er as either coarse or elegant, as he adopts or neg- lects it. This sound is taken notice of by Steele in his Eng- lish Grammar, p. 49, so long ago as the reign of queen Anne : but he ascribes it to the consonant's being fol- lowed by a palative vowel, as he calls the a in can, the e in get, and the i in begin, which he says " are sounded as if written cyan, gyet, begyin, &c. because the tongue can scarce pass from these guttural conso- nants to form the palative vowels, but it must pro- nounce y; but it is not so before the other vowels, as in call, gall, go, gun, goose, come, &c." This observation of Steele's goes no farther than to such words as can- not possibly be pronounced without the intervention of the e or y sound ; but to this it may be added, that though such words as have the long sound of the a in father, or the same long sound heard before r final, or followed by another consonant in the same syllable as car, card, regard ; or such words as have the long /, or the short i followed by r, as kirk, gird, girl ; — I say though these words may be pronounced without the intervention of e or y, yet with it they are not only- more mellow and fluent; but infinitely more elegant and fashionable. 24 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. At first sight we are surprised that two such diffe- rent letters as a and i should be affected in the same manner by the hard gutturals, g, c, and k ; but when we reflect that i is really composed of a and e, our surprise ceases ; and we are pleased to find the ear perfectly uniform in its procedure, and entirely unbi- assed by the eye. From this view of the analogy, we may see how much mistaken is a very solid and ingenious writer on this subject, who says, that "ky-ind for kind is a monster of pronunciation, heard only on our stage. w Nare's Orthoepy, p. 28. See Critical Pronouncing Dictionary, under the word Guilt. The liquid sound of T, Z), S, and soft C, after the accent, and before the semiconsonant diphthongs. Nothing can be better established in the genuine pronunciation of our language, than the liquid sibila- tionof these consonants, when the accent comes before them, and the inverted diphthongs succeed. This is evident in the numerous terminations in tion,sion, cion; and if we had words ending in dion, it is not to be doubted but that they would flow into the same cur- rent of sound. The general ear, true to analogy, melts these con- sonants into the soft hiss before the long u; for though apparently a single letter, it is composed of e oo, or rather y oo, and is therefore not only not a pure vow- el, but a semiconsonant diphthong, exactly in sound like the pronoun you. Hence we hear polite speak- ers always pronounce educate, as if written edjucate ; virtue as vercheiv ; verdure as verjure ; and if the gen- eral ear were not corrupted by being corrected, we RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 25 should in the same analogy hear Indian pronounced Injian ; odious, ojeous ; and insidious, insidjeous. In this pronunciation of these words, the speaker has always the strongest analogy on his side ; but he ought to avoid sinking the i, and reducing Indian into two syllables, as if written In-jan ; odious as o-jus ; and insidious as insid-jus. The i ought to be heard distinctly like e in these words, as if written and divid- ed into In-je-an, o-je-us, insid~je-ous, &c. For want of attending to this evident analogy, there are few English words more frequently mispronounced than the word pronunciation. A mere English schol- ar, who considers the word to pronounce as the root of it, cannot easily conceive why the o is thrown out of the second syllable ; and therefore, to correct the mistake, sounds the word as if written pronounciation. Those, who are sufficiently learned to escape this errour, by understanding that the word comes to us either from the Latin pronunciation or the French prononciation, are very apt to fall into another, by sinking the first aspiration, and pronouncing the third syllable like the noun sea. But these speakers ought to take notice, that, throughout the whole lan- guage, c, s, and t, preceded by the accent, either primary or secondary, and followed by ea, ia, io, or any similar diphthong, always become aspirated, and are pronounced as if written she. Thus the very same reasons that oblige us to pronounce partiality, propitiation, especially, &c. as if written parsheality, propisheation, espeskeally, &c. oblige us to pronounce pronunciation as if written pronnnsheashun. See Principles prefixed to the Critical Pronouncing Dic- tionary, Nos. 357, 450, 461, and the word Ecclesi- 4 26 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. astick. We may conclude by observing, that this liquid sound of these letters is no fanciful departure from true orthography, but is the genuine and spon- taneous production of the national ear ; and as it tends to give a mellow flow of sound to a considerable part of the language, it should certainly not be discour- aged. In this word, and some of the other examples, it may be noted, that the secondary accent operates on these letters exactly in the same manner as the prima- ry ; and that as the secondary accent is before the cia, it makes it she-a, as much as the primary before tion makes it shun. Suppressing the sound of the final consonants. One great cause of indistinctness in reading is sinking the sound of some of the final consonants, when they are followed by words beginning with vowels, and of some when the next word begins with a consonant. Thus the word and is frequently pro- nounced like the article an, both before a vowel and a consonant, as both men and money are wanting to carry on the war ; where we hear this sentence as if written, both men an money are wanting to carry on the ivar. The suppression of d in this case is, however, much more tolerable than when it is follow- ed by a vowel, and particularly the vowel a, followed by n ; for in this position there is not only a disagree- able repetition of the same sound, but, in some meas- ure, a confusion in the sense. Thus we often hear that a subject is carried on by question and ansiver, as if written, a subject is carried on by question an an- swer ; and he made his meal of an apple and an egg, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 27 as if written, he made his meal of an apple an an egg. So that it ought to be made a general rule always to pronounce the d in and, when a vowel begins the next word, and particularly when that word begins with an. The sound of /, when final, is liable to the same suppression, when a consonant begins the succeeding word, and particularly the th. Nothing is more com- mon than to hear the want of men is occasioned by the want of money, pronounced the want o'men is oc- casioned by the want o ^ money ; and, / spoke of the man ivho told me of the zvoman you mentioned, as if written 1 spoke o'the man who told me oHhe woman you men- tioned. It may, however, be observed in mitigation of this, that where there is no pause between words, the last consonant of one word, and the first of another word, are very apt to coalesce, like double consonants, which are really double only to the eye ; but when there is a perceptible pause at the end of a sentence, or member of sentence, the final consonant ought then to be pronounced distinctly ; and instead of letting the organs remain on the last letter till the sound dies, they ought to be smartly separated by sounding what the French call the mute e after the final con- sonant. All the mute consonants are liable to this imperfect pronunciation, but it is in none more per- ceptible than in words ending with t or d, especially if preceded by another consonant. Thus if I say, / took down my hat, but before I had put it on my head, Mr. Johnson came into the room, and let the tongue remain on the palate on the t and d, at the end of the words hat and head, they want much of that ar- 28 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. ticulation they would have, if the tongue were smartly separated by a rebound, as it were, from the palate, and the mute e pronounced after them somewhat as if spelled in this manner : / took down my hat-te, but before I had put it on my head-de, Mr. Johnson came into the room. The same want of articulation may be perceived in the following sentence, if the tongue be suffered to remain too long on the palate on the consonants at the end of the words in the following sentence : he re- ceived the whole of the rent, before he parted with the land : and the superior distinctness of pronouncing it with the t and d, finished by a smart separation of the organs, and somewhat as if written he received-de the ivhole of the rent-te, before he parte-de with the lan-de. The judicious reader will observe that this rule must be followed with discretion, and that the final consonant must not be so pronounced as to form a distinct syllable ; this would be to commit a greater errour than that which it was intended to prevent ; but as it may with confidence be asserted, that audibility depends chiefly on articulation, so it may be affirmed that articulation depends much on the distinctness, with which we hear the final consonants ; and trifling therefore as these observations may appear at first sight, when we consider the importance of audibility, we shall not think any thing that conduces to such an object below our notice. The rough and smooth sound of R. Scarcely any letter is more difficult to pronounce with propriety than the r. What forms great part of the peculiarity of the Irish accent, as it is called, i.s RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 29 the rough and harsh pronunciation of this letter ; and the soft, smooth, or rather inarticulate sound of it, marks a striking singularity of what is called the cockney pronunciation, or the pronunciation of the common people of London ; so that the true sound of this letter seems to lie in the medium between these extremes. But first it will be necessary to observe, what I have never found noticed by any of our orthoepists, that as the Greek and some other languages have a rough and a smooth, or a harsh and a soft r, so has the English, and that each of these are proper in cer- tain situations. The rough r is formed by jarring the tip of the tongue against the roof of the mouth, near the fore-teeth ; the smooth r is a vibration of the lower part of the tongue, near the root, against the inward region of the palate, as close to each other as possible, without coming into contact. The first r is proper at the beginning of words, and the second at the end of words, or when succeeded by a consonant. In England, and particularly in London, the r in bar, bard, card, regard, &c. is pronounced so much in the throat as be to little more than the middle or Italian a, heard in father, as if written baa, baad, caad, regaad; while in Ireland the r, in these words, is pronounced with so strong a jar of the tongue against the fore-part of the palate, and accompanied with such an aspira- tion or strong breathing at the beginning of the letter, as to produce that harshness we call the Irish accent. But if this letter is too forcibly pronounced in Ireland, it is often too feebly sounded in England, and partic- ularly in London, where it is sometimes entirely sunk ; and it may, perhaps, be worthy of observation, that 30 IIHETORICAL GRAMMAR. provided we avoid a too forcible pronunciation of the r, when it ends a word, or is followed by a consonant in the same syllable, we may give as much force as we please to this letter at the beginning of a word, without producing any harshness to the ear. Thus, Rome, river, rage, may have the r as forcible as in Ireland ; but bar, bard, card, regard, &c. must have it nearly as soft as in London. This letter, therefore, forms an exception to the foregoing rule. Hissing too much the terminations tion, sion, &c. There is a vicious manner of pronouncing these terminations, by giving them a sharp hiss, which crushes the consonants together, and totally excludes the vowels, as if* the words nation, occasion, &c. were written na-shn, occa-zhn, &c. As words of these ter- minations are very numerous in the language, any- improper mode of sounding them must tarnish the whole pronunciation, and therefore ought to be most carefully guarded against. These terminations, therefore, ought to be pronounced as distinctly as if written, nashun, occazhun, &c. The diphthong io, for want of the accent, is sunk into that sound, which is annexed to the o in the last syllable of honour, favour 9 terrour, &c. which can be classed with nothing so much related to it as short u. Pronouncing s indistinctly after st. The letter s after st, from the very difficulty of its pronunciation, is often sounded inarticulately. The inhabitants of London of the lower order cut the knot, and pronounce it in a distinct syllable, as if e were be- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 31 "fore it ; but this is to be avoided as the greatest blemish in speaking : the three last letters in posts, fists, mists, &e. must all be distinctly heard in one syllable, and without either permitting the letters to coalesce, as if written pose, fiss, miss, &c. or suffering the ts to make a distinct syllable, like the vulgar of London, as if written pos-tes, jis-tes, mis-tes, &x. but letting the t be heard, however feebly, yet distinctly between the two hissing letters. For the acquiring of this sound, it will be proper to select nouns that end in st or ste ; to form them into plurals, and pronounce them forcibly and distinctly every day. The same may be observed of the third person of verbs ending in sts or stes, as persists, wastes, pastes, &c. Pronouncing wfor v, and inversely. The pronunciation of v for w, and more frequently of iv for v, among the inhabitants of London, and those not always of the low T er order, is a blemish of the first magnitude. The difficulty of remedying this defect is the greater, as the cure of one of these mis- takes has a tendency to promote the other. Thus, if you are very careful to make a pupil pro- nounce veal, and. vinegar, not as if written weal and winegar, you will find him very apt to pronounce wine and wind, as if written vine and vind. The only method of rectifying this habit seems to be this. Let the pupil select from a dictionary, not only all the words that begin with v, but as many as he can of those that have this letter in any other part. Let him be told to bite his under lip while he is sounding the v in those words, and to practise this every day till he pronounces the v properly at first sight : then, 32 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. and not till then, let him pursue the same method with the w ; which he must be directed to pronounce by a pouting out of the lips without suffering them to touch the teeth. Thus, by giving all the attention to only one of these letters at a time, and fixing by habit the true sound of that, we shall at last find both of them reduced to their proper pronunciation, in a shorter time than by endeavouring to rectify them both at once. Not sounding h after w. The aspirate h is often sunk, particularly in the capital, where we do not find the least distinction of sound between while and wile, whet and wet, where and were, Sec. Trifling as this difference may appear at first sight, it tends greatly to weaken and impov- erish the pronunciation, as well as sometimes to con- found words of a very different meaning. The best method to rectify this is, to collect all the words of this description from a dictionary, and write them down ; and instead of the wh, to begin them with hoo in a distinct syllable, and so to pronounce them. Thus let while be written and sound hoo-ile ; whet 9 hoo-et; where, hoo-are; whip, hoo-ip ; &c. This is no more, as Dr. Lowth observes, than placing the aspirate in its true position, before the w, as it is in the Saxon, which the words come from ; where we may observe, that, though we have altered the or- thography of our ancestors, we have still preserved their prounciation. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 33 Not sounding h where it ought to be sounded, and inversely, A still worse habit than the last prevails, chiefly among the people of London, that of sinking the h at the beginning of words, where it ought to be sound- ed, and of sounding it, either where it is not seen, or where it ought to be sunk. Thus we not unfrequently hear, especially among children, heart pronounced art, and arm, harm. This is a vice perfectly similar to that of pronouncing the v for the w, and the tv for the v, and requires a similar method to correct it. As there are but so very few words in the language where the initial h is sunk, we may select these from tha rest ; and, without setting the pupil right when he mispronounces these, or when he prefixes the h im- properly to other words, we may make him pronounce all the words where h is sounded, till he has almost forgot there are any words pronounced otherwise. Then he may go over those words to which he improp- erly prefixes the h, and those where the h is seen, but not sounded, without any danger of an interchange. As these latter words are but few, I shall subjoin a catalogue of them for the use of the learner. Heir, heiress, herb, herbage, honest, honesty, honestly, honour, honourable, honourably, hospital, hostler, hour^ hourly, humble, humbly, humbles, humour, humorist, humor- ous, humorously, humor some : where we may ob- serve, that humour and its compounds not only sink the h, but sound the u like the pronoun you or the noun yew, as if written yewmour, yewmorous, &c. 5 34 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Suppressing e where it should be pronounced, and pronouncing it where it should be suppressed. The vowel c before I and n in a final unaccented syllable, by its being sometimes suppressed and some- times not, forms one of the most puzzling difficulties in teaching young people to read. When any of the liquids precede these letters, the e is heard distinctly, as woollen, flannel, women, syren ; but when any of the other consonants come before these letters, the e is sometimes heard, as in novel, sudden : and sometimes not, as in swivel, sadden, marked thus < and those pauses which are accompanied with an alter- ation in the tone of voice into u RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. The interrogation } C ? The exclamation V marked thus < ! The parenthesis ) ( ( ) The period is supposed to be a pause double the time of the colon ; the colon, double that of the semicolon ; and the semicolon, double that of the comma, or small- est pause; the interrogation and exclamation points are said to be indefinite as to their quantity of time, and to mark an elevation of voice ; and the parenthe- sis to mark a moderate depression of the voice, with a pause greater than the comma. The use of the Comma. A simple sentence, that is, a sentence having but one subject, or nominative, and one finite verb, admits of no pause. Thus in the following sentence ; The passion for praise produces excellent effects in women of sense. The passion for praise is the subject, or nominative case, to the verb produces, and excellent effects in women of sense is the object or accusative case, with its concomitant circumstances or adjuncts of specification, as Dr. Lowth very properly terms them ; and this sentence, says the learned bishop, admits of no pause between any of its parts, but when a new verb is added to the sentence, as in the follow- ing : The passion for praise, which is so very vehement in the fair sex, produces excellent effects in women of sense. Here a new verb is introduced, accompanied with adjuncts of its own, and the subject is repeated by the relative pronoun which : it now becomes a compounded sentence, made up of two simple sentences,, one of which is inserted in the middle of the other ; RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 55 it must, therefore, be distinguished into its component parts by a point placed on each side of the addition- al sentence. In every sentence, therefore, as many subjects, or as many finite verbs, as there are, either expressed or implied, so many dictinctions there may be : as, My hopes, fears, joys, pains, all centre in you. The case is the same, when several adjuncts affect the sub- ject of the verbs : as, A good, wise, learned man is an ornament to the commonwealth ; or, when several ad- verbs, or adverbial circumstances, affect the verb : as, He behaved himself modestly, prudently, virtuously. For as many such adjuncts as there are, so many sev- eral members does the sentence contain ; and these are to be distinguished from each other as much as several subjects or finite verbs. The reason of this is, that as many subjects, finite verbs, or adjuncts, as there are in a sentence, so many distinct sentences are actually implied ; as the first example is equiva- lent to — My hopes all centre in you, my fears all cen- tre in you, &c. The second example is equivalent to — A good man is an ornament to the commonwealth, a wise man is an ornament to the commonwealth, &c. The third example is equivalent to — He behaved him- self modestly, he behaved himself prudently, &c. ; and these implied sentences are all to be distinguished by a comma. The exception to this rule is, where these subjects or adjuncts are united by a conjunction : as, The im- agination and the judgment do not always agree ; and, A man never becomes learned without studying constant- ly and methodically. In these cases the comma between the subjects and adjuncts is omitted. 56 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. There are some other kinds of sentences, which, though seemingly simple, are nevertheless of the com- pound kind, and really contain several subjects, verbs, or adjuncts. Thus in the sentences containing what is called the ablative absolute : as, Physicians, the dis- ease once discovered, think the cure half wrought; where the words, the disease once discovered, are equiv- alent to, when the cause of the disease is discovered. So in those sentences, where nouns are added by apposi- tion : as, The Scots, a hardy people, endured it all So also in those, where vocative cases occur : as, This, my friend, you must allow me. The first of these ex- amples is equivalent to — The Scots endured it all, and, The Scots, who are a hardy people, endured it all ; and the last to — This you must allow me, and this my friend must allow me. The use of the Semicolon, Colon, and Period. When a sentence can be divided into two or more members, which members are again divisible into mem- bers more simple, the former are to be separated by a semicolon. EXAMPLE. But as this passion for admiration, when it works according to reason, improves the beautiful part of our species in every thing that is laudable ;. so nothing is more destructive to them, when it is governed by vanity and folly. When a sentence can be divided into two parts, each of which parts is again divisible by semicolons, the former are to be separated by a colon. EXAMPLES. As we cannot discern the shadow moving along the dial-plate, so the ad- vances we make in knowledge are only perceived by the distance gone over. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 57 Here the two members, being both simple, are only separated by a comma. As we perceive the shadow to have moved, but did not perceive it mov- ing ; so our advances in learning, as they consist of such minute steps, are only perceivable by the distance gone over. Here the sentence being divided into two equal parts, and those compounded, since they include others, we separate the former by a semicolon, and the latter by commas. As we perceive the shadow to have moved along the dial, but did not per- ceive it moving ; and it appears that the grass has grown, though nobody ev- er saw it grow : so the advances we make in knowledge, as they consist of such minute steps, are only perceivable by the distance gone over. Here the advancement in knowledge is compared to the motion of a shadow, and the growth of grass ; which comparison divides the sentence into two prin- cipal parts : but since what is said of the movement of the shadow, and of the growth of grass, likewise con- tains two simple members, they are to be separated by a semicolon ; consequently, a higher pointing is required, to separate them from the other part of the sentence, which they are opposed to : and this is a colon. When a member of a sentence forms complete sense, and does not excite expectation of what follows, though it consist but of a simple member, it may be marked with a colon. EXAMPLES. The discourse consisted of two parts : in the first was shown the necessi- ty of fighting ; in the second, the advantages that would arise from it. The Augustan age was so eminent for good poets, that they have served a& models to all others : yet it did not produce any good tragic poets 8 58 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. When a sentence is so far perfectly finished, as not to be connected in construction with the following sen- tence, it is marked with a period. The Interrogation, Exclamation, and Parenthesis. The note of interrogation is used to show that a question is asked : as, What day of the month is this ? It likewise distinguishes a question from a sentence in the imperative mood : as, Do you return ?* In- terrogative sentences require an elevation of the voice, except the question be asked by the pronouns, who, which, what ; or the adverbs, hotv, where, when, &c. ; for in these cases you must give a mode- rate cadence to your voice, and let the pause be gov- erned by the sense of the subject. A parenthesis is a sentence inserted into the body of another sentence, to illustrate its meaning, but is neither necessary to the sense, nor at all aifects the eonstruction. It marks a moderate depression of the voice, with a pause greater than a comma. When they were both turned of forty (an age in which, according to Mr, Cowley, there is no dallying with life) they determined to retire, and pass the remainder of their days in the country. Spectator, No. 123. An exclamation denotes an emotion of mind, and requires an elevation of voice, with a pause equiva- lent either to a comma, semicolon, colon, or period, as the sense demands. * This distinction of the voice, applied to a distinction of interrogative sentences, into those that begin with and without the interrogative words, is extracted from a spelling-book, written by Mr. Perry, a very industrious, accurate, and ingenious writer on English pronunciation, at Edinburgh. This author, and' one Charles Butler, of Magdalen college, Oxford, jn his English Grammar, 1633, are the only writers in whom I ever met with the least hint of this very important distinction. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 59 These are thy glorious work?, parent of goodl Almighty ! Thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair ! Thyself how wondrous then ! Milton. This is the most concise and comprehensive scheme of punctuation I could possibly collect from the seve- ral authors, who have written on this subject ; but these rules, though sufficient to prevent confusion in writing, are very inadequate to the purposes of a j u it and accurate pronunciation : as it is certain that a just, a forcible, and easy pronunciation, will oblige a judicious reader to pause much more frequently, than the most correct and accurate writers or printers give him leave. But I must again observe, that when I contend for the propriety, and even necessity, of pausing, where we find no points in writing or printing, I do not mean to disturb the present practice of punctuation : I wish only to afford such aids to pronunciation, as are actual- ly made use of by the best readers and speakers, and such as we must use in reading and speaking in pub- lic, if we would wish to pronounce with justness; ener- gy, and ease. Rhetorical Punctuation, Punctuation, or the doctrine of pausing, if philo- sophically considered, will be found to extend much further than is generally supposed : for if pausing is that resting between words and members of sentences which marks their several degrees of connexion and dependence on each other, whatever difference is found in the degrees of connexion or dependence, so many different marks ought to be adopted to point them out. But though the degrees of connexion and dependence 60 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. are confessedly many and various, there are no more than four marks by which to denote them- It is true, these marks sufficiently answer the purposes of written language, by keeping the members of sentences from running into each other, and producing ambiguity : but when we regard them as guides to pronunciation, they fail us at almost every step. Those who are ac- quainted with the Art of Reading feel this very sensibly; and are obliged to supply the deficiencies of the points? by pauses, which are suggested to them by the struc- ture and import of the sentence. Many hints have been offered to assist the reader and speaker in the practice of pausing, and more might be given by an attentive observer ; but that which appears to have been overlooked by all our punctuists is, that pausing is often relative : that is, that many pauses owe their existence not so much to the necessity of distinguish- ing the subordinate parts of a sentence, as to the neces- sity of showing the actual subordination of one member to another ; or, in other words, in order to class togeth- er such portions of a sentence as belong to each other more intimately than those that are not so classed* Thus, in the following sentence, Half the misery of the greatest part of mankind might be extinguished, would men alleviate the general curse they lie under by mutual offices of compassion, benevolence, and humanity. Spectator, No. 169.. If we make a pause at misery, and none at mankind, we find an improper classification of the words ; which is immediately removed either by pausing at mankind and not pausing at misery; or by pausing at them both, or by pausing at neither. Another instance will show us more clearly how ^punctuation depends upon classification, or such an RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 61 association of parts as shows the union and distinction of such as are similar and such as are different When the proud steed shall know why man restrains His fiery course, or drives him o'er the plains j When the dull ox, why now he breaks the clod, Why now a victim, and now Egypt's god: Then shall man's pride and dulness comprehend His actions', passions', being's use and end. Pope's Essay on Man. In the last couplet of this passage, if we pause at com- prehend without pausing at dulness, we shall not suf- ficiently distinguish the subject and the verb ; if we place a pause at dulness and not at comprehend, we shall not distinguish the verb from that class of words which forms its object ; but, if we pause both at dul- ness and at comprehend, we shall mark both these dis- tinctions, and class all the words together, according to their respective similarities and differences. Pausing, therefore does not seem to depend so much on placing a pause in any particular part of a sentence, as in that part which most requires it. Thus we may very properly place a pause in the middle of a com- plex nominative case ; but if, after this, we join the whole nominative to the verb, without a pause, we shall soon perceive an improper classification of words : which proves that pausing is relative, and that a pause is proper or improper, not absolutely and considered by itself, but relatively and as it stands connected with other pauses : which can arise from nothing but the perception of the impropriety of distinguishing the parts of a subordinate portion, such as those which form the nominative case to the verb, and not distinguishing the two superior portions ; the verb, and the nominative ease : which is the same absurdity as to distinguish 6£ RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. the parts of a part, and not the parts of a whole. Thus we may distinguish the superior parts without distinguishing the inferior, but not vice versa. As this idea of punctuation is at least new and cu- rious, it may deserve a little further illustration. As this cruel practice of party lying tends to the utter subversion of all truth and humanity among us, it deserves the utmost detestation and dis- couragement of all who have either the love of their country, or the honour of their religion at heart. Spectator, No. 451. This sentence has but two commas in it, as it lies in the Spectator before me : but who is there of the least discernment who does not perceive a great number of other pauses, which might be adopted for the purpose of more distinctly conveying the sense ? In the first place, the compound nominative contains a class of words ending at lying, which are united as forming the subject of the verb, tends ; which may be very properly distinguished from the next class of words which form the object of the verb ; and as this object is compounded of two subordinate classes, namely ; the utter subversion, and of all truth and humanity among us ; we may pause better at subversion than in any other part of this clause ; and as the next prin- cipal constructive member has for its nominative a single word, and that only a personal pronoun, it ad- mits of no pause after it : but the regimen of the succeeding verb, consisting of several classes of words, requires a pause after the verb, to distinguish it from the regimen, and a pause at discouragement, to distin- guish the class which forms the former part of the regimen from the latter ; and a pause at all, to distin- guish the persons understood by this word and the RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 63 next member, which describes them ; and this last descriptive member, beginning with the nominative who, and the verb have, being followed by another compound member consisting of two parts, which form the regimen of the verb, must have a pause at have, and another at country, in order to distinguish the verb from the regimen, and the parts of the regimen from each other. It must not be understood that I recommend all these pauses as necessary. Certainly not. What I wish to inculcate is, that, if we pause oftener than the common punctuation sets down for us, our pauses ought to take place in those parts of the sentence where the words naturally fall into classes ; and that if we pause at a subordinate class of words, we must necessarily pause at a superior class, otherwise we shall produce disorder and confusion in the thought. It may perhaps be objected to this system, that there are some classes of words which cannot be sepa- rated from other classes without a manifest impropri- ety. Thus, in the following sentence from Mr. Ad- dison : " I consider a human soul without education like marble in the quarry ; which shows none of its inherent beauties till the skill of the polisher fetches out the colours, makes the surface shine, and discovers every ornamental cloud spot and vein that runs throught the body of it." Sped. No. 215, Here it may be said, that cloud, spot, and vein, form a class, and ought, therefore, to be distinguished from ornamental by a pause between that word and cloud, as well as between cloud and the two following words. To this objection it may be answered, that if we con- sider the word ornamental as an adjective qualifying only the word cloud, the words every ornamental cloud 64 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. may be considered only as one object, as the words every ornamental are only like an adjective before the substantive, which refuses a pause. (See Elements of Elocution, page 21.) But if we consider every orna- mental to qualify spot and vein -as well as cloud, and only omitted for the sake of brevity, these words do not so much form one distinct class, as three distinct classes forming altogether one compound class, govern- ed by the verb discovers. Here, too, we may perceive the general rule takes place, which forbids a pause between the adjective and the substantive in the natu- ral order, and which makes it improper to pause at ornamental. But if we suppose this word elliptically omitted before spot, another general rule obliges us to pause after cloud, that the mind may supply the word ornamental ; for nothing can be more uniform in correct pronunciation, than the rule that enjoins us to make a pause wherever there is an ellipsis in the lan- guage. This appears to be the true rationale of punctuation 5 and, with this principle in view, we shall be enabled to enter into a detail of those rules, which are common- ly laid down in our grammars, to judge of the justness of them, and to add such others as none of our pune- tuists have taken notice of. But, first, it will be necessary to make a distinc- tion of punctuation, which will sound new to every one, and that is into visible and audible. Visible punctu- ation is that which separates a sentence into its seve- ral parts, and shows the degree of separation that exists by the time of the pause between the several parts ; and audible punctuation annexes to these pau- ses such a turn or elevation and depression of the voice, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 65 as the sense and structure of a sentence seem to require. Of both these in their order. A PRACTICAL SYSTEM OF RHETORICAL PUNCTUATION. Of Visible Punctuation. Before we give such directions for pausing, or di- viding a sentence, as will in some measure enable us to avoid the errours of common punctuation, it will be necessary to inquire into the nature of a sentence, and to distinguish it into its different kinds. Sen- tences are of two kinds : a period, or compact sentence, and a loose sentence. A period, or compact sentence, is an assemblage of such words, or members, as do not form sense independent of each other : or, if they do, the former modify the latter, or inversely. A loose sentence is an assemblage of such words, or members, as do form sense, independent of those that follow, and at the same time are not modified by them : a period, or compact sentence, therefore, is divisible in- to two kinds ; the first, where the former words and members depend for sense on the latter, as in the fol- lowing sentence : As we can not discern the shadow moving along the dial-plate, so the advances we make in learn- ing are only perceived by the distance gone over. Here we find no sense formed till the last word is pronounc- ed : and this sentence, for distinction's sake, we may call a direct period : the second kind of period, or compact sentence, is that, where, though the first part forms sense without the latter, it is nevertheless modi- fied by it : as in the following sentence : There are several arts which all men are in some measure mas- ters oj ) without being at the pains of learning them. 9 66 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, Here, if we stop at masters of we find complete sense formed, but not the whole sense : because what follows modifies or alters the meaning of it : for it is not said simply, that there are several arts, which all men are in some measure masters of, but with this qualification or change in the sense, without being at the pains of learning them, which reduces the general to a partic- ular meaning : and this sentence we may call an in- verted period. The loose sentence has its first mem- bers forming sense, without being modified by the lat- ter ; as in the following sentence ; Persons of good taste expect to be pleased at the same time they are in- formed ; arid think that the best sense always deserves the best language. In which example we find the lat- ter member adding something to the former, but not modifying or altering it. This difference of connexion between the members of sentences, and consequently the different pauses to be annexed to them, will be better understood by at- tending to the different influence of the conjunction that and the relative tvhich in the following passage ; A man should endeavour to make the sphere of his innocent pleasures as wide as possible, that he may retire into them with safety, and find in them such a satisfaction as a wise man would not blush to take. Of this nature are those of the imagination, which do not require such a bent of thought as is necessary to our most serious employments, nor at the same time suffer the mind to sink into that negligence and remissness, which are apt to ac- company our more sensual delights. Spectator,- No. 411. In the first of these sentences we find the conjunc- tion that modifies or restrains the meaning of the pre- ceding member ; for it is not asserted in general and without limitation, that a man should make the sphere of his innocent pleasures as wide as possible, but that he should do so for the purpose of retiring into him- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 67 self: these two members, therefore, are necessarily connected, and might have formed a period, or com- pact sentence, had they not been followed by the last member : but as that only adds to the sense of the preceding members, and does not qualify them, the whole assemblage of members, taken together, form but one loose sentence. The last number of the last sentence is necessarily connected with what precedes, because it modifies or restrains the meaning of it ; for it is not meant, that the pleasures of the imagination do not suffer the mind to sink into negligence and remissness in general, but into that particular negligence and remissness, w T hich is apt to accompany our more sensual delights. The first member of this sentence affords an opportunity of explaining this by its opposite : for here it is not meant, that those pleasures of the imagination only are of this innocent nature which do not require such a bent of thought as is necessary to our more serious employments ; but that of this nature are the pleas- ures of the imagination in general : and it is by ask- ing the question, whether a preceding member affirms any thing in general, or only affirms something as lim- ited or qualified by what follows, that we shall discov- er whether these members are either immediately or remotely connected ; and, consequently, whether they form a loose or a compact sentence ; as the former member, therefore, of the last sentence is not necessa- rily connected with those that succeed, the sentence may be pronounced to be a loose sentence. Sentences thus defined and distinguished into their several kinds, we shall be better enabled to give such rules for dividing them by pauses, as will reduce punc- 68 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. tuation to some rational and steady principles. Pre- viously, however, to these rules, it will be necessary to observe, that, as the times of the pauses are exceed- ingly indefinite, the fewer distinctions we make be- tween them, the less we shall embarrass the reader ; — I shall beg leave, therefore, to reduce the number of pauses to three : namely, the smaller pause, answering to the comma ; the greater pause, answering to the semicolon, and colon ; and the greatest pause, answer- ing to the period. The ancients knew nothing of the semicolon ; and, if we consider practice, and real util- ity, I believe it will be found, that the three distinc- tions of the ancients answer every useful purpose in writing and reading. RULES FOR PAUSING. The principal pause in the compact sentence. Rule I. Every direct period consists of two princi- pal constructive parts, between which parts the great- er pause must be inserted : when these parts commence with conjunctions that correspond with each other, they are sufficiently distinguishable ; as in the follow- ing sentence : As no faculty of the mind is capable of more improvement than the mem- ory, so none is in more danger of decay by disuse. Here we may observe, that the first constructive part begins with as, and the second with so ; the ex- pectation is excited by the first, and answered by the latter: at that point, therefore, where the expectation begins to be answered, and the sense begins to form, the principal pause is to be used ; and, by these means, the two contrasted and correspondent parts are dis- tinctly viewed by the mind. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 69 A period may be direct, and may be properly cal- led a compact sentence, where only the first conjunc- tion is expressed. As in ray speculations I have endeavoured to extinguish passion and pre- judice, I am still desirous of doing some good in this particular. Spectator. Here the word so is understood before / am, and the long pause as much required, as if so had been ex- pressed ; since it is here the sentence naturally di- vides into two correspondent and dependent parts. That point, therefore, where the sense begins to form, or where the expectation begins to be answered, is the point which we must be the most careful to mark ; as it is here the sentence naturally divides in- to its principal constructive parts, and it is here that in every sentence and member of a sentence the prin- cipal pause takes place. Bule II. Every inverted period consists of two principal constructive parts, between which parts the greater pause must be inserted ; these parts divide at that point where the latter part of the sentence be- gins to modify the former : in periods of this kind, the latter conjunction only is expressed, as in the example : Every one that speaks and reasons is a grammarian, and a logician, though he may be utterly unacquainted with the rules of grammar, or logick, as they are delivered in books and systems. If we invert this period, we shall find it susceptible of the two correspondent conjunc- tions though and yet ; as, Though utterly unacquainted with the rules of grammar and logick, as delivered in books and systems, yet every man who speaks and rea- 70 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. sons is a grammarian, and a logician. This inversion of the order of a sentence is, perhaps, the best crite- rion of the connexion of its parts; and proves that the former, though forming complete sense of itself, is modified by the latter. Thus, in the phrases, Christ died for him, because he died for all — Many things are believed, though they exceed the capacity of our wits. Hooker. In these phrases, if we do but transpose the noun and pronoun, and invert the order, the sentences will be perfectly the same in sense, and the connexion will be more apparent ; as, Because Christ died for all, he died for him — Though many things exceed the ca- pacity of our wits, they are believed. Wherever, therefore, this transposition can take place, we may be certain of a necessary connexion in the sense, and that the principal pause lies between the two parts. The principal pause in the loose sentence, Rule. III. Every loose sentence must consist of a period, either direct or inverted, and an additional member which does not modify it ; and, consequently, this species of sentence requires a pause between the principal constructive parts of the period, and between the period and the additional member. EXAB1PLE. Persons of good taste expect to be pleased, at the same time they are in- formed ; and think that the best sense always deserves the best language. In this sentence an inverted period is constructed at the word informed ; which requires a pause at pleased. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 71 because here the former part of the sentence is modifi- ed by the latter : and a pause is required at informed, because here another member commences. Let us take another example. The soul, considered abstractly from its passions, is of a remiss and seden- tary nature ; slow in its resolves, and languishing in its executions. Spectator, No. 255. Here a direct period is formed at nature, the prin- cipal constructive parts of this period separate at pas- sions ; and here must be the larger pause : the suc- ceeding members are only additional, and require a lar- ger pause between them and the period they belong to; and a smaller pause between each other at resolves. The subordinate pause in the compact sentence. Having given an idea of the principal pause in a sentence, it will be necessary to say something of the subordinate pauses, which may all be comprehended under what is called the short pause. And first it may be observed, that by the long pause is not meant a peruse of any determinate length, but the longest pause in the sentence. Thus, the pause be- tween the nominative and the verb in the following sentence : The great and invincible Alexander, wept for the fate of Darius. The pause here, I say, may be called the long pause, though not half so long as the pause between the two principal constructive parts in the following sentence : If impudence prevailed as much in the forum and courts of justice, as in- solence does in the country and places of less resort ; Aulus Caecina would submit as much to the impudence of Sextus iEbutius in this cause, as he did before to his insolence when assaulted by him. 72 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Here the pause between the words resort and Aulus Ccecina may be called the long pause, not so much from its duration, as from its being the principal pause in the sentence : the long pause, therefore, must al- ways be understood relatively to the smaller pauses : and it may pass for a good general rule, that the prin- cipal pause is longer, or shorter, according to the sim* plicity or complexity of the sentence. See page 56. Rule IV. The subordinate pauses are easily dis- tinguished in such sentences as consist of parts, cor- responding to parts., as in the last example ; where we may observe, that the whole sentence readily divides itself into two principal constructive parts at resort : the first part as readily divides into two subordinate parts at justice ; and the last, into two other subordi- nate parts at cause ; and these are all the pauses ne- cessary. But if, either from the necessity of drawing breath, or of more strongly enforcing every part of this sentence, we were to admit of more pauses than these, it cannot be denied, that, for this purpose, some places more readily admit of a pause than others : if, for instance, the first subordinate part were to admit of two pauses, they could no where be so suitably placed as at impudence and forum; if the next might be overpointed in the same manner, the points would be less unsuitable at does and country, than at any other words ; in the same manner, a pause might be more tolerable at Ccecina and Mbutius, and at be- fore and insolence, than in any other of the subordinate parts of the latter division of this sentence. The parts of loose sentences which admit of the short pause must be determined by the same princi- ples. If this sentence has been properly defined, it is RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 73 a sentence consisting of a clause containing perfect sense, followed by an additional clause which does not modify it. Thus, in the following example : Foolish men are more apt to consider what they have lost, than what they possess ; and to turn their eyes on those who are richer than themselves, rather than on those who are under greater difficulties. Here a perfect sentence is formed at possess, and here must be the longest pause, as it intervenes be- tween two parts nearly independent : the principal pause in the first member of this sentence, which, re- specting the whole sentence, may be called a subor- dinate pause, is at lost, and that of the last member, at themselves ; if, for the sake of precision, other and shorter pauses Were admitted, it should seem most suitable to admit them at men and consider in the first member, at eyes and those in the first part of the sec- ond member, and at those in the last. In these ob- servations, however, it must be carefully understood, that this multiplicity of shorter pauses is not recom- mended as necessary or proper, but only as possible, and to be admitted occasionally : and to draw the line as much as possible between what is necessary and unnecessary, we shall endeavour to bring together such particular cases as remand the short pause, and those where it cannot be omitted without hurting either the sense or the delivery. Rule V. When a nominative consists of more than one word, it is necessary to pause after it. When a nominative and a verb come in a sentence, unattended by adjuncts, no pause is necessary, either for the ear or understanding ; thus in the following- sentence : Alexander wept : — no pause intervenes be- 10 74 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. tween these words, because they convey only two ideas, which are apprehended the moment they are pro- nounced ; but if these words are amplified by adjuncts of specifications, as in the following sentence : The great and invincible Alexander, ivept for the fate of Da- rius. Here a pause is necessary between these words, not only that the organs may pronounce the whole with more ease, but that the complex nominative and verb may, by being separately and distinctly exhibit- ed, be more readily and distinctly conceived.* This rule is so far from being unnecessary, when we are obliged to pause after the verb, that it then becomes more essential. This account of party patches will, lam afraid, appear improbable to those who live at a distance from the fashionable world. Addison's Sped. No. 81. If in this sentence we only pause at wiM, as mark- ed by the printer, we shall find the verb swallowed up as it were by the nominative case, and confound- ed with it ; but if we make a short pause, both before * It is not a little astonishing that so acute a grammarian as Beauzee should make the propriety of a pause in this case depend, not on the necessity of distinguishing parts more or less connected, but on the necessity of breath- ing. If the sense is impaired by a pause, a pause is absolutely inadmissible in the longest as well as the shortest sentence ; but if a pause between the nominative and the verb, where the nominative consists of many words, does not injure the sense, but rather clears and strengthens it, we may safely pronounce that a pause between every complex nominative and verb is not only admissible but necessary. His examples of sentences where we may pause, and where we may not, are the following : L'homme injuste ne voit la mort que comme unfantome ajfreux. Theor. des Sent. chap. 14. La venue des faux Christs, et des faux prophetes, sembloil etre un plus prochain acheminement a la dernierc mine. Bossuet Disc, sur 1'Hist. Univ. P. II. But if the foregoing observations are just, a pause in speaking is quite as admissible at injuste as at prophetes : for, to use his own words — Cest une er- reur sensible, de faire de pendre le clegr6 d' affinite de phrases de leur plus ou mains d'elendue; un atome tient aussi peu a un autre atome qu'une montagne a une montagne. Gram. Generate, vol. ii. p. 592. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 75 and after it, we shall find every part of the sentence obvious and distinct. That the nominative is more separable from the verb than the verb from the objective case, is plain from the propriety of pausing at self-love, and not at forsook, in the following example : Self-love forsook the path it first pursued, And found the private in the public good. Pope's Essay on Man. The same may be observed of the last line of the fol- lowing couplet : Earth smiles around with boundless bounty blest, And Heav'n beholds its image in his breast. Ibvi. In these instances, though the melody invites to a pause at forsook and beholds, propriety requires it at self-love and Heaven. Rule VI. Whatever member intervenes between the nominative case and the verb is of the nature of a parenthesis, and must be separated from both of them by a short pause. I am told that many virtuous matrons, who formerly have been taught to believe that this artificial spotting of a face was unlawful, are now reconcil- ed, by a zeal for their cause, to what they could not be prompted by a con- cern for their beauty. Addison's Sped. JVb. 81. The member intervening between the nominative ma- trons, and the verb are, may be considered as inci- dental, and must therefore be separated from both. When the Romans and Sabines were at war, and just upon the point of giv- ing battle, the women, who were allied to both of them, interposed with so many tears and entreaties, that they prevented the mutual slaughter which threatened both parties, and united them together in a firm and lasting peace. Addison's Sped. J\o. 81. 76 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Here the member intervening between the nomina- tive case icomen, and the verb interposed, must be separated from both by a short pause. Rule VII. Whatever member intervenes betweeu the verb and the accusative case, is of the nature of a parenthesis, and must be separated from both by a short pause. EXAMPLES. I knew a person who possessed the faculty of distinguishing great a perfection, that, after having tasted ten different kinds of tea, he would distinguish, without seeing the colour of it, the particular sort which was offered him. Addison's Sped. No. 409. The member intervening between the verb distinguish, and the accusative the particular sort, must be separat- ed from them by a short pause. , A man of a fine taste in writing will discern, after the same manner, not only the general beauties and imperfections of an author, but discover the several ways of thinking and expressing himself, which diversify him from all other authors. Addison, ibid. The member intervening between the verb discern, and the ascusative not only the general beauties and imperfections of an author, must be separated from both by a short pause. Rule VIII. Whatever words are put into the case absolute, must be separated from the rest by a pause, EXAMPLES. If a man borrow aught of his neighbour, and it be hurt or die, the owner thereof not being with it, he shall surely make it good. Here, the owner thereof not being with it, is the phrase called the ablative absolute, and this, like a parenthesis, must be separated from the rest of the sentence by a short pause on each side. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 77 God, from the mouwt of Sinai, whose gray top Shall tremble, he descending, will himself In thunder, lightning, and loud trumpet's sound, Ordain them laws. Milton. Here, he descending, neither governs nor is governed by any other part of the sentence, and is said to be in the ablative absolute ; and this independence must be marked by a short pause before and after the phrase. Rule IX. If an adverb is placed after the verb, and consists but of one word, it must be separated from what follows by a pause. EXAMPLE. He did not act prudently in one of the most important affairs of his life, and therefore could not expect to be happy. Rule X. If the adverb consists of more words than one, or forms what is called an adverbial phrase, it ought to be separated both from the verb and what follows, by a pause. Thus man is, by nature, directed to correct, in some measure, that distribu- tion of things, which she herself would otherwise have made. Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments. Rule XI. Words or phrases in apposition, or when the latter only explains the former, have a short pause between them. -Goddess of the lyre, Which rules the accents of the moving spheres, Wilt thou, eternal Harmony, descend And join this festive train ? Rule XII. When two substantives come together, and the latter, which is in the genitive case, consists 78 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. of several words closely united with each other, a pause is admissible between the two principal substan- tives. EXAMPLES. We may observe, that any single circumstances of what we have formerly seen, often raises up a whole scene of imagery, and awakens numberless ideas, that before slept in the imagination. Spectator, No. 417. I do not know whether I am singular in my opinion, but for my own part, I would rather look upon a tree in all its luxuriancy, and diffusion of boughs and branches, than when it is cut and trimmed into a mathematical figure. Ibid. JYo. 415. Correct reading would admit of a pause in the first example at circumstance, and, in the last, rather at diffusion than at luxuriancy. Rule XIII. Who and which, when relative pro- nouns, and that, when it stands for who and which, always admit of a pause before them. EXAMPLES. A man can never be obliged to submit to any power, unless he can be sat- isfied, who is the person, who has a right to exercise it. Locke. To which we may add, their want of judging abilities, and also their want of opportunity to apply such a serious consideration as may let them into the true goodness and evil of things, which are qualities, which seldom display themselves to the first view. South. Vanity is the foundation of the most ridiculous and contemptible vices, the vices of affectation and common lying ; follies which, if experience did not teach us how common they are, one should imagine the least spark of common sense would save us from. Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments. The word which, in the last example, that ought to have a pause before it, has one after it ; this latter pause is certainly proper, as a member intervenes be- tween ivhich and the governing words, and printers never fail placing this last pause, but almost as uni- formly neglect a pause before the relative in this sit- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 79 uation, though the pause before will be acknowledged by every judicious ear to be as necessary in the one case as in the other. A pause before these relatives ought never to be omitted, as we are certain by this pause never to hurt the sense, and are sure to gain time, breath, anft foresight to proceed. The uncertainty of printers in this essential pause may be guessed at, from the punctuation of a passage, which follows that, which I have just quoted. The foolish liar, who endeavours to excite the admiration of the company by the relation of adventures which never had any existence, the important coxcomb, who gives himself airs of rank and distinction which he well knows he has no just pretensions to, are both of them no doubt pleased with the applause which they fancy they meet with. lb. p. 192. In this passage we only see a pause before the first relative ; but why that is distinguished it is not very easy to guess. This rule is of greater extent than at first appears ; for there are several words usually called adverbs, which include in them the power of the relative pro- noun,* and will therefore admit of a pause before them ; such as when, why, wherefore, how, ivhete, whither, whether, whence, while, till, or until; for ivhen is equivalent to the time at which ; why or wherefore is equivalent to the reason for which ; and so of the rest. It must, however, be noted, that when a preposition comes before one of these relatives, the pause is before the preposition ; and that, if any of these words are the last word of the sentence, or clause of a sentence, no pause is admitted before them ; as, I have read the book, of which I have heard so much commendation, but I know not the reason why. I have heard one of the books much commended, but I cannot tell ivhich, frc. See Ward's English Grammar, 4to. 80 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. It must likewise be observed, that, if the substan- tive which governs the relative, and makes it assume the genitive case, comes before it, no pause is to be placed either before which, or the preposition that governs it. The passage of the Jordan is a figure of baptism, by the grace of which. the new-born Christian passes from the slavery of sin into a state of freedom peculiar to the chosen sons of God. Abridgment of the Bible. Rule XIV. When that is used as a casual con- junction, it ought always to be preceded by a short pause. EXAMPLES. The custom and familiarity of these tongues do sometimes so far influence the expressions in these epistles, that one may observe the force of the Hebrew conjugations. Locke. There is the greater necessity for attending to this rule, as we so frequently find it neglected in printing. For fear of crowding the line with points, and appear- ing to clog the sense to the eye, the ear is often de- frauded of her unquestionable rights. I shall give two instances, among a thousand, that might be brought to show where this is the case. I must therefore desire the reader to remember that, by the pleasures of the imagination, I mean only such pleasures as arise originally from sight. Spectator, No. 411. It is true, the higher nature still advances, and, by that means, preserves his distance and superiority in the scale of being ; but he knows that, how high soever the station is of which he stands possessed at present, the inferior nature will at length mount up to it, and shine forth in the same degree of glory. Spectator, No. 111. In these examples, we find the incidental member RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. §1 succeeding the conjunction that is separated from it by a pause ; but the pause which ought to precede this conjunction is omitted : this punctuation runs through our whole typography, and is the more cul- pable, as the insertion of the pause after that, where it is less wanted than before, is more apt to mislead the reader than if he saw no pause at all. Rule XV. When the adjective follows' the sub- stantive, and is succeeded either by another adjec- tive, or words equivalent to it, which form what may be called a descriptive phrase, it must be separated from the substantive by a short pause. . EXAMPLES, He was a man, learned and polite. It is a book, exquisite in its kind. It was a calculation, accurate to the last degree. That no pause is to be admitted between the sub- stantive and the adjective, in the inverted order, when the adjectiye is single, or unaccompanied by adjuncts. is evident by the following example from Pope : Of these the chief the care of nations own, And guard with arms divine the British throne. For the reason of this, see Elements of Elocution, page 37. Those who have not considered this subject very attentively, will, I doubt not, imagine, that I have inserted above twice the number of points that are necessary; but those who are better acquainted with the art, will, I flatter myself, agree with ffife, that a distinct, a deliberate, and easy pronunciation, will find employment for every one of them. Much nu- ll 82 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. doubtedly will depend upon the turn of voice, with which we accompany these points ; and, if this is but properly adapted, the sense will be so far from suffering by so many pauses, that it will be greatly improved and enforced. And this leads us to a con- sideration of one of the most important parts of de- livery ; which is, the slide or inflection of voice with which every sentence, member of a sentence, and even every word, is necessarily pronounced ; with- out a knowledge of this it will be impossible to speak intelligibly of the interrogation, exclamation, and pa- renthesis, which seem distinguished from other sen- tences more by a peculiar inflection of voice than by pausing ; nor can accent and emphasis be completely undertood without considering them as connected with a certain turn or inflection of voice ; and this must be the next object of our inquiry. Audible Punctuation. As describing such sounds upon paper as have no definite terms appropriated to them, like those of music, is a new and difficult task, the reader must be requested to as nice an attention as possible to those sounds or inflections of voice, which sponta- neously annex themselves to certain forms of speech, and which, from their familiarity, are apt to be unnoticed. If experience were out of the question, and we were only acquainted with the organic forma- tion of human sounds, we must necessarily distinguish them into five kinds : namely, The monotone, or one sound, continuing a perceptible time in one note, which is the case with all musical sounds : a sound RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. S3 beginning low and sliding higher without any percep- tible intervals, or beginning high and sliding lower in the same manner ; which is essential to all speak- ing sounds : the two last of these may be called simple slides or inflections; and these may be so combined as to begin with that which rises and end with that which falls, or to begin with that which falls and end with that which rises ; and if this com- bination of inflection is pronounced with one impulse or explosion of the voice, it may not improperly be called the circumflex or compound inflection; and these are the only possible modifications the human voice is susceptible of. For first, if there is no turn of voice, it must continue in a monotone ; secondly, if the voice be inflected, it must be either upwards or downwards, and so produce either the rising or falling inflection ; thirdly, if these two be united on the same syllable, it can only be by beginning with the rising, and ending with the falling inflection, or vice versa ; as any other mixture of these opposite inflections is impossible, A writer,* who seems to have taken up two of the distinctions of voice I have been describing, tells us, that the two inflections of voice, which accom- pany the pauses, are, that which conveys the idea of continuation, and that which conveys the idea of completion ; but nothing can be less satisfactory than this account of the use of these inflections : for the first, which is said to imply continuation, ought always to be used at the end of an interrogative sen- tence beginning with the verb, and almost always at * Enfield's Speaker, page xxvi. See also Preface to Elements of Elocn lion, page viii. 84 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, the end of a sentence which terminates with a nega^ tive member, as is abundantly shown in Elements of Elocution, page 143, 144, &c. ; and for the sec- ond, which is said to imply completion, we find it so often introduced where the sense is incomplete ; particularly in the series, which see hereafter, and in those sentences where we enforce a concession in order to strengthen the conclusion, and in a thousand instances, where emphasis occurs, that scarcely any thing can be more vague and uncertain than the rule laid down by this author. The truth is, nothing will enable us to adapt these inflections properly, but distinguishing sentences into their various kinds, and considering nicely the structure and meaning of these sentences, and the several distinctions to which these modifications of voice are liable ; which is too delicate as well as too laborious a task for the generality of writers, and therefore it is no wonder we find such superficial directions as the bulk of our treatises on this subject abound in. I flatter myself I have led the way in this laborious task, in Elements of Elocution, to which the curious reader must be referred for full satisfaction. In the present work I purpose to con- fine myself to what may be considered as more imme- diately necessary to practice ; for which purpose, after explaining these turns of voice to the ear as accurately as possible, I shall endeavour to assist the ear by the eye, in comprehending the several modi- fications of voice, and then attempt to apply them to the several sentences and parts of sentences accord- ing to their different structure and meaning. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. &f> Explanation of the Inflections of the Voice. Though we seldom hear such a variety in reading or speaking as the sense and the satisfaction of the ear demand, yet we hardly ever hear a pronunciation perfectly monotonous. In former times we might have found it in the midnight pronunciation of the bell-man's verses at Christmas ; and now, the town- crier, as Shakspeare calls him, sometimes gives us a specimen of the monotonous in his vociferous exordium, " This is to give notice !" — the clerk of a court of justice also promulgates the will of the court by that barbarous metamorphosis of Oyez ! Oyez I Hear ye ! Hear ye ! into O yes ! O yes ! in a perfect sameness of voice. But, however ridiculous the monotone in speaking may be in the above-mentioned characters, in certain solemn and sublime passages in poetry it has a wonderful force and dignity ; and, by the un- commonness of its use, it even adds greatly to that variety with which the ear is so much delighted. This monotone may be defined to be a continuation or sameness of sound upon certain syllables of a word, exactly like that produced by repeatedly striking a bell ; — such a stroke may be louder or softer, but con- tinues exactly in the same pitch. To express this tone upon paper, a horizontal line may be adopted ; such a one as is generally used to express a long syl- lable in verse ; thus (~). The grand description of the riches of Satan's throne, in the beginning of Milton's second book of the Paradise Lost, affords us an opportunity of ex- emplifying the use of this tone : S6 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. High on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth of Ormus or of Inde ; Or where the gorgeous East, with richest hand, Show'rs, on her kings barbaric, pearl and gold, Satan exalted sat. The rising inflection is that upward tarn of the voice we generally use at the comma, or in asking a question beginning with a verb : as, No, say you ; did he say No ? This is commonly called a suspension of voice, and may not improperly be marked by the acute accent, thus ( ' ). The falling inflection is generally used at the semi- colon and colon ; and must necessarily be heard in answer to the former question, He did ; He said No. This inflection, in a lower tone of voice, is adopted at the end of almost every sentence, except the definite question, or that which begins with the verb. To ex- press this inflection the grave accent seems adapted : thusf). The rising circumflex begins with the falling inflec- tion, and ends with the rising upon the same syllable, and seems as it were to twist the voice upwards. This inflection may be exemplified by the drawling tone we give to some words spoken ironically ; as the word Clodius, in Cicero's oration for Milo. This turn of the voice is marked in this manner (v). Rut it is foolish in us to compare Drusus, Africanus, and ourselves with Clodius ; all our other calamities were tolerable, but no one can patiently bear the death of Clodius. The falling circumflex begins with the rising inflec- tion, and ends with the falling upon the same syllable, and seems to twist the voice downwards. This inflec- tion is generally used to express reproach ; and may be exemplified by the drawling tone we hear on the RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 87 word you, in Hamlet's answer to his mother, who says — Queen. Hamlet, you have your father much offended. Hamlet. Madam, you have my father much offended. This turn of the voice may be marked by the com- mon circumflex : thus (a). Both these circumflex inflections may be exempli- fied in the word so, in a speech of the Clown in Shakspeare's As You Like It. I knew when seven justices could not make up a quarrel ; but when the parties were met themselves, one of them thought but of an if; as if you said so, then I said sd ; and they shook hands and were sworn brothers. The slightest attention to those turns of voice on the word so, which every one who has the least idea of comic humour must necessarily adopt in reading this passage^ will sufficiently exemplify the existence and utility of these two circumflexes. These five modifications of the voice may be called absolute ; as they are the only possible ways of vary- ing it so as to make one mode essentially different from the other. High and low, loud and soft, quick and slow, which may accompany them, may be called comparative modifications, as what is high in one case aiay be low in another, and so of the rest Explanation of Plate I. By the foregoing analysis of the voice, we perceive it is divisible into two simple inflections ; the rising and falling inflection ; and each of these again is di- visible into two sorts of the same kind. The rising inflection is divisible into that which marks a pause where the members are intimately connected in sense, (as at the word satisfactorily, No. V.) and that where 88 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. they terminate in a question (as at No. I. on the word No ;) in both which places the inflection of voice is exactly the same, but should be somewhat higher and more continued at the note of interrogation, than at the comma. The falling inflection is likewise divisi- ble into that which marks a member containing per- fect sense not necessarily connected with what follows (as No. I. at the semicolon at did ; and at No. IV. at the colon at commandments ;) and that which marks the close of a period (as No. IV. at man :) these two are essentially the same inflection, and differ only as Ihey are pronounced in a higher or a lower tone,— the former terminating the members at did and com- mandments, in a middle or higher tone ; and the lat- ter, after a gradual fall of voice upon the preceding words, sinks into a lower tone upon the word man. The two circumflexes, No. VI. and No. VII. fall and raise, and raise and fall the voice upon the same syllable, in which operation the vowel seems to be considerably extended : for which reason, in the ris- ing circumflex, No. VI. I have extended the vowel o by doubling it, and giving the first part of the vowel to the falling, and the last to the rising inflection. In the other example, No. VII. you, being a diph- thong, admits of a double sound, exactly equivalent to the letter u, which, being analysed, is no more than ye oo< pronounced as closely together as possi- ble ; (See Critical Pronouncing Dictionary in the Principles, No. 39, 171, and No. 8, in the notes) and, therefore, if we might be permitted to violate spel- ling for the sake of conveying the sound, the first part of the word might be pronounced ye, with the rising inflection, and the last part like oo, with the failing. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 89 In this exhibition of the several inflections of the yoice to the eye, we have an opportunity of observing the true nature of accent. The accented syllable, it may be observed, is always louder than any other, either before or after it ; and when we pronounce the word with the falling inflection, the accented syllable is higher as well as louder, than either the preceding or succeeding syllables ; as in the word satisfactorily, No. III. But when we pronounce this word with the rising inflection, as in No. II. though it is louder and higher than the two first syllables, it is certainly low- er than the three last. Did he answer satisfactorily ? Those who wish to see a more minute investigation of the nature of accent, may consult Elements of Elocu- tion, Part II. page 181. The different states of the voice. After the foregoing analysis of the voice into its several modifications or inflections, we may take oc- casion to give a sketch of those states or varieties, of which it is susceptible in other respects. Besides the inflections which have been just enumerated, the only varieties of which the voice is capable, independent of passion, are, high, low ; loud, soft ; and these, as they succeed each other in a more or less rapid pro- nunciation, may be either quick or slow. The terms forcible and feeble, which are certainly not without ideas to which they are appropriated, seem to be severally a compound of two of these simple states ; that is, force seems to be loudness and quickness, ei- ther in a high or a low tone ; and feebleness seems to be softness and slowness, either in a high or a low tone. This, however, I wish to submit to the consideration 12 90 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. of the philosophical musician. As to the tones of the passions, which Are so many and various, these, in the opinion of one of the best judges in the kingdom, are qualities of sound, occasioned by certain vibrations of the organs of speech, independent on high, low, loud, soft, quick, or slow, which last may not improperly be called different quantities of sound. It may, perhaps, not be unworthy of observation to consider the almost unbounded variety which these principles produce by a different combination with each other. The different quantities of sound, as these states of the voice may be called, may be com- bined so as to form new varieties by uniting with any other that is not opposite to it. Thus, high may be combined with either loud or soft, quick or slow ; that is, a high note may be sounded either in a loud or a soft tone ; and a low note may be sounded either in a loud or a soft tone also ; and each of these combina- tions may succeed each other more swiftly or slow- ly : while forcible seems to imply a degree of loud- ness and swiftness, and feeble a degree of softness and slowness, either in a high or a low tone. This combination may, perhaps, be more easily conceived by classing these different quantities in contrast with each other. „.,,-, . i ) Forcible may be high, loud, and quick, or low. loud. High, loud, quick, J and qui / k 8 j r, , > Feeble may be high, soft, and slow, or low, soft, and The different combinations of these states may be thus represented : High, loud, quick Low, loud, quick High, loud, slow Low, loud, slow High, soft, quick Low, soft, quick High, soft, slow. Low, soft, slow. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 91 When these states of the voice are combined with the five modifications of voice above-mentioned, the varieties become exceedingly numerous, but far from incalculable. Perhaps they may arise (for I leave it to arithmeticians to reckon the exact number) to that number into which the ancients distinguished the notes of music ; which, if I remember right, were about two hundred. Practical system of the inflections of the voice. Words adopt particular inflections, either according to the particular signification they bear, or as they are either differently arranged or connected with oth- er words. The first application of inflection relates to emphasis, which will be considered in its proper place.; the last relates to that application of inflec- tion, which arises from the division of a sentence into its component parts, by showing what turns or slides of voice are most suitable to the several distinctions, rests, and pauses of a sentence. For this purpose the rising inflection is denoted by the acute accent, thus ( ; )» and the falling inflection by the grave accent, thus( v > COMPACT SENTENCE. Direct period, with two conjunctions. Rule I. Every direct period, so constructed as to have its two principal constructive parts connected by correspondent conjunctions, requires the long pause with the rising inflection at the end of the first prin- cipal constructive member. 92 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. EXAMPLES. As we cannot discern the shadow moving along the dial-plate, so the ad- vances we make in knowledge are only perceived by the distance gone over As we perceive the shadow to have moved, but did not perceive it m6v- ng; so our advances in learning, consisting of insensible steps, are only perceivable by the distance. As we perceive the shadow to have moved along the dial, but did not per- ceive it moving ; and it appears that the grass has grown, though nobody ev- er saw it grow : so the advances we make in knowledge, as they consist of such minute steps, are only perceivable by the distance. Each of these three sentences consists of two prin- cipal correspondent parts ; the first commencing with as, and the last with so ; as the first member of the first sentence is simple, it is marked with a comma only at dial-plate ; as the second is compounded, it is marked with a semicolon at moving ; and as the last is decompounded, it is marked with a colon at grow ; this punctuation is according to the general rules of pausing, and agreeable to good sense ; for it is cer- tainly proper that the time of the pause should in- crease with the increase and complexity of the mem- bers to which it is annexed, as more time is required to comprehend a large and complicated member, than a short and simple one ; but whatever may be the time taken up in pausing at the different points, the inflection annexed to them must always be the same ; that is, the comma, semicolon, and colon, must invari- ably have the rising inflection. The same may be observed of the following sen- tences : Although I fear it may be a shame to be dismayed at the entrance of my discourse in defence of a most valiant man ; and that it no way becomes me, while Milo is more concerned for the safety of the state than for himself, not to show the same greatness of mind in behalf of him : yet this new form of prosecution terrifies my eyes, which, whatever way they turn, want the an- cient custom of the forum, and the former manner of trials, Cicero's Oration for Milo. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 93 Although, son Marcus, as you have now been a hearer of Cratippus for a year, and this at Athens, you ought to abound in the precepts and doctrines of philosophy, by reason of the great character both of your instructer and the city ; one of which can furnish you with knowledge, and the other with examples : yet, as I always to my advantage joined the Latin tongue with the Greek, and I have done it not only in oratory, but likewise in philoso- phy ; I think you ought to do the same, that you may be equally conversant in both languages. Cicero's Offices, book i. chap. 1- These sentences begin with the concessive conjunc- tion although, and have their correspondent conjunc- tion yet ; and these conjunctions form the two princi- pal constructive members. The words him, and ex- amples, therefore, at the end of the first members, must have the rising inflection, and here must be the long pause. This rule ought to be particularly attended to in reading verse. Many of Milton's similes, commenc- ing with the conjunction as, have the first member so enormously long, that the reader is often tempted to drop his voice before he comes to the member begin- ning with the conjunction so, though nothing can be more certain than that such a fall of the voice is di- ametrically opposite to the sense. Thus, in that beautiful description of the affected indignation of Satan, at the command of God to ab- stain from eating of the tree of life : She scarce had said, though brief, when now more bold The temper (but with show of zeal and love To man, and indignation at his wrong) New part puts on, and as to passion mov'd Fluctuates disturb'd, yet comely, and in act Rais'd as of some great matter to begin. As when of old some orator renown'd In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence Flourish'd, since mute, to some great cause address'd, Stood in himself collected, while each part, Motion, each act won audience, ere the tongue 94 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Sometimes in height began, as no delay Of preface brooking through his zeal of right : So standing, moving, or to height up grown, The tempter all impassion'd thus began. Paradise Lost, b. ix. v. 664. In this passage, if we do not make a long pause with the rising inflection on the word right, we utterly de- stroy the sense. In the same manner we may observe some of Ho- mer's similes to extend to such a length before the application of them to the object illustrated, that the printer, and perhaps Mr. Pope himself, has some- times concluded the first part with a full stop. Direct period, ivith only one conjunction. Rule II. Every direct period, consisting of two principal constructive parts, and having only the first part commence with a conjunction, requires the rising- inflection and long pause at the end of this part. EXAMPLES. As in my speculations I have endeavoured to extinguish passion and pre- judice, I am still desirous of doing some good in this particular. Spectator. Here the sentence divides itself into two correspon- dent parts at prejudice ; and as the word so is un- derstood before the words / am, they must be preced- ed by the long pause and rising inflection. If impudence prevailed as much in the forum and courts of justice, as in- solence does in the country and places of less res6rt ; Aulus Caecina would submit as much to the impudence of Sextus JEbutius in this cause, as he did before to his insolence when assaulted by him. If I have any genius, which I am sensible can be but very small ; or any readiness in speaking, in which I do not deny but I have been much conver- sant ; or any skill in oratory, from an acquaintance with the best arts, to which I confess I have been always inclined : no one has a better right to de- mand of me the fruit of all these things, than this Aulus Licinius. Cicero's Oration for Jlrchias. If after surveying the whole earth at once, and the several planets that He within its neighbourhood ; we contemplate those wide fields of aether. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 95 that reach in height as far as from Saturn to the fixed stars, and run abroad almost to an infinitude ; our imagination finds its capacity filled with so im- mense a prospect, and puts itself upon the stretch to comprehend it. Addison's Spectator, No. 428. In the first of these examples, the first part of the sentence ends at resort, and the second begins at Au- lus Ccecina. In the second sentence, the first part ends at inclined, and the second begins at no one ; and in the third, the first part ends at infinitude , and the second begins at our ; between these words, therefore, in each sentence, must be inserted the long pause and rising inflection. All these sentences commence with a conjunction, and may be said to have a correspondent conjunction commencing the second part of the sentence, not ex- pressed but understood. In the first sentence com- mencing with if, then is understood at the begining of the second part; the sense of this conjunctive adverb then may be plainly perceived to exist by inserting it in the sentence, and observing its suitableness when expressed. If impudence prevailed as much in the forum and courts of justice, as in- solence does in the country and places of less res6rt, then Aulus Caecina would submit as much to the impudence of Sextus iEbutius in this cause, as he did before to his insolence when assaulted by him. The same insertion of the word then might be made in the two last examples commencing with if, and the same suitableness would appear ; for though correct and animated language tends to suppress as much as possible the words that are so implied in the sense as to make it unnecessary to express them, yet if when inserted they are suitable to the sense, it is a proof the structure of the sentence is perfectly the same, whether these superfluous words are expressed or not, 96 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. The exception to this rule is when the emphatical word in the conditional part of the sentence is in di- rect opposition to another word in the conclusion, and a concession is implied in the former, in order to strengthen the argument in the latter : for in this case the middle of the sentence has the falling, and the lat- ter member the rising inflection. EXAMPLES. If we have no regard for religion in youth, we ought to have some regard for it in age. If we have no regard for our 6wn character, we ought to have some re- gard for the character of 6thers. In these examples, we find the words youth and own character, have the falling inflection, and both periods end with the rising inflection ; but if these sentences liad been formed so as to make the latter member a mere inference from, or consequence of, the former, the general rule would have taken place, and the first emphatic word would have had the rising, and the last the falling inflection. EXAMPLES. If we have no regard for religion in youth, we have seldom any regard for it in age. ' If we have no regard for our 6wn character, it can scarcely be expected that we should have any regard for the character of others. Rule III. Direct periods, which commence with participles to the present tense, consist of two parts ; between which must be inserted the long pause and rising inflection. EXAMPLE. Having already shown how the fancy is affected by the works of nature, and afterwards considered in general both the works of nature and of art, how they mutually assist and complete each other, in forming such scenes and prospects as are apt to delight the mind of the beholder ; I shall in this paper throw together some reflections on that particular art, which has * RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 97 more immediate tendency than any other, to produce those primary 1 pleas- ures of the imagination, which have hitherto been the subject of this discourse. Sped. No. 415. The sense is suspended in this sentence till the word beholder, and here is to be placed the long pause and rising inflection ; in this place also, it is evident, the word now might be inserted in perfect conformity to the sense. Inverted period. Rule I. Every period, where the first part forms perfect sense by itself, but is modified or determined in its signification by the latter, has the rising inflec- tion and long pause between these parts, as in the di- rect period. EXAMPLES. Gratian very often recommends the fine taste, as the utmost perfection of an accomplished man. In this sentence the first member, ending at taste? forms perfect sense, but is qualified by the last ; for Gratian is not said simply to recommend the fine taste, but to recommend it in a certain way ; that is, as the utmost perfection of an accomplished man. The same may be observed of the following sentence : Persons of good taste expect to be pleased, at the same time they are in- formed. Here perfect sense is formed at pleased ; but it is not meant that persons of good taste are pleased in gen- eral, but with reference to the time when they are in- formed ; the words taste and pleased, therefore, in these sentences, we must pronounce with the rising inflection, and accompany this inflection with a pause ; for the same reasons, the same pause and inflection 13 98 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. must precede the word though in the following exam- ple : I can desire to perceive those things that God has prepared for those that love him, though they be such as eye had not seen, ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive. Locke. Loose sentence. A loose sentence has been shown to consist of a period, either direct or inverted, and an additional member which does not modify it ; or, in other words, a loose sentence is a member containing perfect sense by itself, followed by some other member or members, which do not restrain or qualify its signification. Ac- cording to this definition, a loose sentence must have that member, which forms perfect sense, detached from those that follow, by a long pause and falling infection. As in speaking, the ear seizes every occasion of varying the tone of voice, which the sense will per- mit ; so in reading, w T e ought as much as possible to intimate the variety of speaking, by taking every op- portunity of altering the voice in correspondence with the sense : the most general fault of printers* is, to * The grand defect of the points is, that only two of them, the comma and period, necessarily mark a continuation and completion of sense : the semicolon and colon, by being sometimes placed after complete sense and sometimes where the sense continues, are very fallacious guides, and often lead the reader to an improper turn of voice. If to the colon and semicolon were annexed a mark to determine whether the sense were complete or not, it must certainly be of the greatest assistance to the reader, as he would natu- rally accompany it with a turn of voice, which would indicate the complete- ness or incompleteness of the sense, independent on the time ; and such a mark seems one of the great desiderata of punctuation. I know it may be said that the completeness or incompleteness of the sense is of itself a suffi- cient guide, without any points at all : yes, it may be answered, but without the gift of prophecy we are not always able to determine at sight whether the sense is complete or not; and sometimes even when we have the whole sentence in view, it is the punctuation only that determines whether the mem- ber of a sentence belongs to what goes before, or to what follows. The intention of the points is, in the first place, to fix and determine the sense, when it might otherwise be doubtful; and, in the next place, to apprise the reader of the sense of part of a sentence before he has seen the whole. A mark, therefore, which accomplishes this purpose, must unquestionably be of the utmost importance to the art of reading. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 90 mark those members of loose sentences, which form perfect sense, with a comma, instead of a semicolon or colon : and a similar, as well as the most common fault of readers is, to suspend the voice at the end of these members, and so to run the sense of one member into another ; by this means, the sense is obscure, and a monotony is produced, instead of that distinct- ness and variety, which arises from pronouncing these members with such an inflection of voice as marks a certain portion of perfect sense, not immediately con- nected with what follows ; for as a member of this kind does not depend for its sense on the following- member, it ought to be pronounced in such a manner, as to show its independence on the succeeding member, and its dependence on the period, as forming but a part of it. In order to convey precisely the import of these members, it is necessary to pronounce them with the falling inflection, without suffering the voice to fall gradually, as at a period ; by which means the pause becomes different from the mere comma, which sus- pends the voice, and marks immediate dependence on what follows ; and from the period, which marks not only an independence on what follows, but an exclu- sion of whatever may follow, and therefore drops the voice as at a conclusion. An example will assist us in comprehending this important inflection in reading : All superiority and preeminence that one man can have over another, may be reduced to the notion of quality, which, considered at large, is either that of fortune, body, or mind. The first is that which consists in birth, title, or riches ; and is the most foreign to our natures, and what we can the least call our own, of any of the three kinds of quality. Spectator, ]So. 219. In the first part of this sentence the falling inflec- tion takes place on the word quality; for this member 100 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. we find contains perfect sense, and the succeeding members are not necessarily connected with it; the same inflection takes place in the next member on the word riches ; which, with respect to the sense of the member it terminates, and its connexion with the following members, is exactly under the same predica- ment as the former, though the one is marked with a comma and the other with a semicolon, which is the common punctuation in almost all the editions of the Spectator. A little reflection, however, will show us the necessity of adopting the same pause and inflec- tion on both the above-mentioned words, as this inflec- tion not only marks more precisely the completeness of the sense in the members they terminate, but gives a variety to the period, by making the first and the succeeding members end in a different tone of voice. If we were to read all the members, as if marked with commas, that is, as if the sense of the members were absolutely dependent on each other, the necessity of attending to this inflection of voice in loose sentences would more evidently appear. This division of a sen- tence is sometimes, and ought almost always to be, marked with a semicolon, as in the following sentence at the word possess. EXAMPLE. Foolish men are more apt to consider what they have lost than what they possess ; and to lis their eyes upon those who are richer than themselves rather than those who are under greater difficulties. Sped. No. 574. The result of these examples is one almost invaria- ble rule, namely, that, however the inflections may al- ter upon the pauses in every other part of the sen- tence, yet in that part of the .sentence where the sense begins to form ; we must constantly adopt the rising RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 101 inflection. This is abundantly exemplified in the sentences already produced, and is indeed one of the most general rules in reading. Those who wish to see a farther application of the inflections, must consult Elements of Elocution, p. 184. Orthoepial figures ; or, Figures of pronunciation. As we call that a figure of speech which has a pe- culiarity of meaning, and differs from the most simple and ordinary sense of the words ; so I call those fig- ures orthoepial, where the peculiarity of the phrase requires a peculiarity of pronunciation. Under these figures of orthoepy, I class the interrogation, the ex- clamation, and the parenthesis ; which are generally said, by our grammarians, to require some peculiar modulation of the voice : and to these I shall add other figures, which may be called the commencement, the contrast, the series, the question and answer, the echo, the antecedent, the variation, and the cadence. I shall not contend for the strictly logical propriety of this classification, but shall content myself with hoping that it may have a tendency to place several important particulars of pronunciation in a clearer and more distinct point of view ; and by that means gain them a more attentive consideration, and an easier ad- mission to the understanding. Nothing can be a greater proof of the advancement of science, than a new nomenclature. If new combinations and new distinctions of ideas are discovered, there must ne- cessarily be new terms to express them. 102 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. The Interrogation, It must be first observed, that, with respect to pronun- ciation, all questions may be divided into two classes ; namely, into such as are formed by the interrogative pronouns or adverbs, and into such as are formed on- ly by an inversion of the common arrangement of the words 5* the first with respect to inflection of voice, except in some few cases, may be considered as pure- ly declarative ; and like declarative sentences, they require the falling inflection at the end : and the last, with some few exceptions, require the rising inflection of voice on the last word ; and it is this rising inflec- tion at the end, which distinguishes them from almost every other species of sentence : — of both these in their order. The indefinite question , or the question with the inter- rogative words. Rule I. When an interrogative sentence com- mences with any of the interrogative pronouns or ad- verbs, with respect to inflection, elevation, or depres- sion of voice, it is pronounced exactly like a declara- tive sentence. EXAMPLES. How can he exalt his thoughts to any thing great and noble, who only believes that, after a short turn on the stage of this world, he is to sink into oblivion, and to lose his consciousness for ever? Spectator, jYo. 210. As an illustration of the rule, we need only alter two or three of the words to reduce it to a declara- tive sentence ; and we shall find the inflection, eleva- * Mr. Harris calls the former of these questions indefinite, and the latter definite ; as these may be answered by yes or no, while those often require a whole sentence to answer them. See Hermes, b. i. p. 15L RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 103 lion, and depression of voice on every part of it the same. He cannot exalt his thoughts to any thing great or noble, because he on- ly believes that, after a short turn on the stage of this world, he is to sink into oblivion, and to lose his consciousness for ever. Here we perceive, that the two sentences, though one is an interrogation, and the other a declaration, both end with the same inflection of voice, and that the falling inflection ; but if we convert these words into an interrogation, by leaving out the interrogative word, we shall soon perceive the difference. Can he exalt his thoughts to any thing great or noble, who only believes that, after a short turn on the stage of this world, he is to sink into oblivion, and to lose his consciousness for ever ? In pronouncing this sentence with propriety, we find the voice slide upwards on the last words, con- trary to the inflection it takes in the two former ex- amples. If grammarians, therefore, by the elevation of voice, which they attribute to the question, mean the rising inflection, their rule, with some few excep- tions, is true only of questions formed without the in- terrogative words ; for the others, though they may have a force and loudness on the last words, if they happen to be emphatical, have no more of that dis- tinctive inflection, which is peculiar to the former kind of interrogation, than if they were no questions at all. Let us take another example : — Why should not a fe- male character be as ridiculous in a man, as a male character in one of the female sex ? Here the voice is no more elevated at the end, than if I were to say — A female character is just as ridiculous in a man, as a male character in one of the female sex ; but if I say, Is not a female character as ridiculous in a man, as a 104 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR* male character in one of the female sex ? Here not on- ly the emphasis, but the rising inflection is on the last words ; essentially different from the inflection on these words in the first question. Why should not a female character be as ridiculous in a man, as a male character in one of the female sex ? We may presume, therefore, that it is the emphasis, with which these questions sometimes terminate, that has led the generality of grammarians to conclude, that all ques- tions terminate in an elevation of voice, and so to con- found that essential difference there is between a question formed with, and without, the interrogative words. Rule II. Interrogative sentences commencing with interrogative words, and consisting of members in a series depending necessarily on each other for sense, are to be pronounced as a series of members of the same kind in a declarative sentence. See Series, page 1J6. EXAMPLES. From whence can he produce such cogent exhortations to the practice of every virtue, such ardent excitement to piety and devotion, and such assist- ance to attain them, as those which are to be met with throughout every page of these inimitable writings ? JenyrCs Vieiv of the Internal Evid. p. 41. Where, amidst the dark clouds of pagan philosophy, can he show us such a clear prospect of a future state, the immortality of the soul, the resurrection of the dead, and the general judgment, as in St. Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians ? BM. page 40. The definite question, or the question without the in- terrogative words. Rule. I. When interrogative sentences are formed without the interrogative words, the last word must have the rising inflection. If there be an emphatical word in the last member, followed by several words RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 105 depending on it, which conclude the sentence, both the emphatical word and the concluding words are to be pronounced with the rising inflection :'* thus the words making one, and cause of the shipwreck, in the two following examples, have all the rising inflection. EXAMPLES. Would it not employ a beau prettily enough, if, instead of eternally play- ing with his snuff-box, he spent some part of his time in making one ? Sped. No. 43. If the owner of a vessel had fitted it out with every thing necessary, and provided to the utmost of his power against the dangers of the sea, and that a storm should afterwards arise and break the masts, would any one in that case accuse him of being the cause of the shipwreck ? Demosthenes on the Crown. Rollin- Would an infinitely wise Being make such glorious beings for so mean a purpose ? Can he delight in the production of such ab6rtive intelligences, such short-lived reasonable beings ? Would he give us talents that are not to be exerted, capacities that are not to be gratified ? Sped. No. 111. It is said of Diogenes, that meeting a young man who was going to a feast, he took him up in the street and carried him home to his friends as one who was running into imminent danger, had he not prevented him. What would that philosopher have said, had he been present at the gluttony of a modern meal ? Would not he have thought the master of a family mad, and have begged his servants to tie down his hands, had he seen him devour foul, fish, and flesh ; swallow oil and vinegar,, wines and spices ; throw down salads of twenty different herbs, sauces of a hundred ingredients, confections and fruits of numberless sweets and flavours ? Sped. No. 195. Should a spirit of superior rank, who is a stranger to human nature, acci- dentally alight upon the earth, and take a survey of its inhabitants, what would his notions of us be ? Would not he think that we are a species of beings, made for quite different ends and purposes than what we really are ? Must not he imagine that we are placed in this world to get riches and hon- ours ? Would not he think that it was our duty to toil after wealth, and sta- tion, and title ? Nay, would not he believe we were forbidden poverty by threats of eternal punishment, and enjoined to pursue our pleasures under pain of damnation ? He would certainly imagine that we were influenced by a scheme of duties quite opposite to those which are indeed prescribed to us. Ibid. No. 575. * That is, the word one is to be pronounced as if it were an unaccented syllable of the word making, and as if written makingone. See The Differ- ent Forces of Emphatical Words, 14 106 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. In these examples we find, that, however variously the voice may employ itself on the rest of the sentence, the concluding words on the last member must neces- sarily be suspended with the rising inflection. The only exception to this rule is, when these interroga- tive sentences are connected by the disjunctive or; for in that case the sentence or sentences that succeed the conjunction are pronounced as if they were form- ed by the interrogative words, or were merely declar- ative. Rule II. When interrogative sentences, connected by the disjunctive or, succeed each other, the. first ends with the rising, and the rest with the falling in- flection. EXAMPLES. Shall we in your person crown the author of the public calamities, or shall we destroy him ? JEschints on the Crown. Rollin. Is the goodness, or wisdom, of the divine Being, more manifest in this his preceedings ? Sped. No. 519. Exclamation. This note is appropriated by grammarians to indi- cate that some passion or emotion is contained in the words to which it is annexed, and it may, therefore, be looked upon as essentially distinct from the rest of the points ; the office of which is commonly supposed to be, that of fixing or determining the sense only. Whether a point that indicates passion or emotion, without determining what emotion or passion is meant, or if we had points expressive of every passion or emotion, whether this would in common usage more assist or embarrass the elocution of the reader, I shall not at present attempt to decide ; but when this point RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 107 is applied to sentences, which from their form might be supposed to be merely interrogative, and yet real- ly imply wonder, surprise, or astonishment ; when this use, I say, is made of the note of exclamation, it must be confessed to be of no small importance in reading, and very justly deserve a place in grammat- ical punctuation. Thus the sentence, How mysterious are the ivays of Providence ! which naturally adopts the exclamation, may, by a speaker who denies these mysteries, become a question, by laying a stress on the word how, and subjoining the note of interrogation ; as, How myste- rious are the ways of Providence ? Expressing our gratitude, we may cry out with rapture, What have you done for me ! or we may use the very same words contemptuously to inquire, What have you done for me f intimating that nothing has been done ; the ve- ry different import of these sentences, as they are differently pointed, sufficiently show the utility of the note of exclamation. It may not be entirely useless to take notice of a com- mon error of grammarians ; which is, that both this point and the interrogation require an elevation of voice. The inflection of voice proper to one species of question, which, it is probable, grammarians may have mistaken for an elevation of voice, it is presum- ed has been fully explained under that article : by the elevation of voice they impute to this point, it is not unlikely that they mean the pathos or energy, with which we usually express passion or emotion, but which is by no means inseparably connected with ele- vation of voice : were we even to suppose, that all passion or emotion necessarily assumes a louder tone. 108 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. it must still be acknowledged this is very different from a higher tone of voice, and therefore that the common rule is very fallacious and inaccurate. The truth is, the expression of passion or emotion consists in giving a distinct and specific quality to the sounds we use, rather than in increasing or diminish- ing their quantity, or in giving this quantity any local direction upwards or downwards : understanding the import of a sentence, and expressing that sentence with passion or emotion, are things as distinct as the head and the heart : this point, therefore, though use- ful to distinguish interrogation from emotion, is as different from the rest of the points, as grammar is from rhetoric ; and whatever may be the tone of voice proper to the note of exclamation, it is certain the in- flections it requires are exactly the same, as the rest of the points ; that is, if the exclamation point is plac- ed after a member that would have the rising inflec- tion in another sentence, it ought to have the rising in this ; if after a member that would have the falling inflection, the exclamation ought to have the falling inflection likewise. An instance that the exclamation requires no par- ticular inflection of voice may be seen in the follow- ing speech of Gracchus, quoted by Cicero, and insert- ed in the Spectator, No. 541. Whither shall I turn ? Wretch that lam! to what place shall I betake my- self ? Shall I go to the capitol ? Alas ! it is overflowed with my brother's bitod ! Or shall I retire to my house ? yet there I behold my mother plunged in misery, weeping, and despairing ! Every distinct portion of this passage may be tru- ly said to be an exclamation ; and yet we find in read- ing it, though it can scarcely be pronounced with too much emotion, the inflections of voice are the same as RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 109 if pronounced without any emotion at all : that is, the portion, IVhither shall I turn, terminates like a question with the interrogative word, with the falling inflection. The member, Wretch that I am, like a member forming incomplete sense, with the rising in- flection ; the question without the interrogative word, Shall I go to the capitol, with the rising inflection ; Alas ! it is overfloiced with my brother's blood, with the falling ; the question commencing with the disjunctive or, Or shall I retire to my house, with the falling inflec- tion, but in a" lower tone of voice. Thus we see how vague and indefinite are the gen- eral rules for reading this point, for want of distin- guishing high and low tones of voice from those up- ward and downward slides, which may be in any note of the voice, and which, from their radical difference^ form the most marking differences in pronunciation. Parenthesis. The parenthesis is defined by our excellent gram- marian, Dr. Lowth, to be a member of a sentence in- serted in the body of a sentence, which member is neither necessary to the sense^ nor at all affects the construction. He observes also, that, in reading, or speaking, it ought to have a moderate depression of the voice, and a pause greater than a comma. The real nature of the parenthesis once understood, we are at no loss for the true manner of delivering it. The tone of voice ought to be interrupted, as it were, by something unforeseen ; and, after a pause, the par- enthesis should be pronounced in a lower tone of voice, at the end of which, after another pause, the higher tone of voice, which was interrupted, should be re- 110 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. sumed, that the connexion between the former and latter part of the interrupted sentence may be restor- ed. It may be observed too, that, in order to pre- serve the integrity of the principal members, the pa- renthesis ought not only to be^pronounced in a lower tone, but a degree swifter than the rest of the period, as this still better preserves the broken sense, and dis- tinguishes the explanation from the text. For that this is always the case in conversation, we can be under no doubt, when we consider that whatever is supposed to make our auditors wait, gives an impulse to the tongue, in order to relieve them, as soon as pos- sible, from the suspense of an occasional and unex- pected interruption. EXAMPLES. Notwithstanding all this care of Cicero, history informs us, that Marcus proved a mere blockhead ; and that nature (who it seems was even with the son for her prodigality to the father) rendered him incapable of improving, by all the rules of eloquence, the precepts of philosophy, his own endeav- ours,-and the most refined conversation in Athens. Spectator, JVo. 307. Natural historians observe (for whilst I am in the country I must fetch my allusions from thence) that only the male birds have voices ; that their songs begin a little before breeding-time, and end a little after. Ibid. No. 128- Dr. Clarke has observed, that Homer is more perspicuous than any other author; but if he is so (which yet may be questioned) the perspicuity arises from his subject, and not from the language itself in which he writes. Ward's Grammar, p. 292. The many letters which come to me from persons of the best sense of both sexes (for I may pronounce their characters from their way of writing) do not a little encourage me in the prosecution of this my undertaking. Sped. No. 124. It is this sense which furnishes the imagination with its ideas ; so that by the pleasures of the imagination or fancy (which I shall use promiscuosuly) I here mean such as arise from visible objects. Ibid. JYo. 411. We sometimes meet, in books very respectably printed, with the parenthesis marked where there ought to be only commas. We have an instance of RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Ill this in Hannah More's Strictures on modern Female Education : where, describing in the most picturesque and truly satiric style, the confusion, indifference, and insincerity which reigns at routs and drums, she says, " He would hear the same stated phrases interrupted, not answered by the same stated replies ; the unfin- ished sentence, ' driven adverse to the winds' by press- ing multitudes ; the same warm regret mutually ex- changed by two friends (who had been expressly de- nied to each other all the winter) that they had not met before ; the same soft and smiling sorrow at be- ing torn away from each other now ; the same anxiety to renew the meeting, with perhaps the same secret resolution to avoid it." Vol. ii. p. 180. In this beautiful description, the words marked with the parenthesis belong essentially to the thought, and therefore ought only to have been included be- tween commas. The same may be observed of a very long interven- ing member, in a beautiful description of intemperance in eating, by Pope. The stomach (cramra'd from ev'ry dish, A tomb of boil'd and roast, and flesh and fish, Where bile, and wind, and phlegm, and acid jar, And all the man is one intestine war) Remembers oft the school-boy's simple fare, The temperate sleeps, and spirits light as air. Pope's Imitation of Horace, Sat. ii. This insertion of a parenthesis where it ought not to be, is by no means so common a fault, as that of omitting it where it ought to be inserted. Where it depends on nice distinctions, which is sometimes the case, the fault is pardonable, but not in such as have been here taken notice of. 112 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. The Commencement That we should begin to pronounce whatever we read a little more deliberately, than when we have entered on the subject, is an observation that few will dissent from. Most of our punctuists will admit of a pause after a nominative, when it consists of a long member of a sentence, but none have taken notice of a pause at the beginning of every sentence, which may very properly take place after a single word, when the sentence begins with a proper name, or a word that stands for the subject of the discourse. Thus, in Mr. Addison's description of good-nature, discretion, and cheerfulness : Good-nature is more agreeable in conversation than wit, and gives a cer- tain air to the countenance, which is more amiable than beauty. Sped. No. 169. Discretion does not only show itself in words, but in all the circumstances of action ; and is like an under-agent of Providence, to guide, and direct us in the ordinary concerns of life. Ibid. No. 225. Cheerfulness bears the same friendly regard to the mind as to the body : it banishes all anxious care and discontents, sooths and composes the pas- sions, and keeps the soul in a perpetual calm. Ibid. No. 387. In these examples we shall find it very proper to pause after the first word in every sentence, that the attention may be better fixed upon what forms the subject of them. This rule, however, is not confined to such words as form the subject of a sentence. Wherever a word of importance commences a sentence, it ought to be distinguished in the same manner by a pause. Thus in the following sentences : Man is the merriest species in the creation ; all above and below him are serious. Sped. No. 249- Hypocrisy cannot indeed be too much detested ; but at the same time it is to be preferred to open impiety. Ibid. No. 458. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 113 Memory is the purveyor of reason ; the power which places those images before the mind, upon which the judgment is to be exercised. Johnson. Wisdom comprehends at once the end and the means, estimates easiness or difficulty, and is cautious or confident in due proportion. Ibid. Man is seldom willing to let fall the opinion of his own dignity ; he is better content to want diligence than power; and sooner confesses the depravity of his will than the imbecility of his nature. Ibid. Nature seems to have taken a particular care to disseminate her blessings among the different regions of the world, with art eye to their mutual inter- course and traffic among mankind, that the natives of the several parts of the flobe might have a kind of dependence upon one another, and be united together by their common interest. Sped. JVo. 69. It is presumed that there are few readers of taste, who would not prefer a pause after the first word in all these sentences to such a pronunciation as should slide into the succeeding words without any rest at all. Another instance we may borrow from Dr. Price's beautiful picture of virtue. Virtue is of intrinsic value and good desert, and of indispensable obliga- tion ; not the creature of will, but necessary and immutable; not local or temporary, but of equal extent and antiquity with the divine mind ; not a mode of sensation, but everlasting truth ; not dependent on power, but the guide of all power. Virtue is the foundation of honour and esteem, and the source of all beauty, order, and happiness, in nature. Mr. Addison furnishes us with many instances, where a single person begins a sentence : Homer is in his province when he is describing a battle or a multitude, a hero or a god. Virgil is never better pleased than when he is in his elysium, or copying out an entertaining picture ; Homer's persons are most of them godlike and terrible : Virgil has scarce admitted any into his poem who are not beautiful, and has taken particular care to make his hero so. Spectator, No. 417 Plato expresses his abhorrence of some fables of the poets, which seem to reflect on the gods as the authors of injustice ; and lays it down as a princi- ple, that whatever is permitted to befall a just man, whether poverty, sick- ness, or any of those things which seem to be evils, shall, either in life or death, conduce to his good. Spectator, No, 237, 15 114 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Seneca has written a discourse purposely upon this subject, in which he takes pains, after the doctrine of the stoics, to show that adversity is not in itself an evil ; and mentions a noble saying of Demetrius, " That nothing would be more unhappy than a man who had never known affliction." Ibid. Tully was the first who observed that friendship improves happiness and abates misery, by the doubling of our joy, and dividing of our grief: a thought, in which he hath been followed by all the essayers upon friendship that have written since his time. Ibid. JV'o. 68. In all these passages, a good reader will perceive the propriety of pausing after the first word, which forms the nominative case, or the subject of the sen- tence. By this pause the mind is fixed upon the principal object of attention, and prepared to proceed with clearness and deliberation to the reception of what follows. TJie Contrast. When words or phrases are placed in contrast with each other, for the sake of being more distinctly per- ceived and more forcibly impressed upon the mind, they require a longer pause than ordinary between the contrasted parts, that each part may be more ac- curately distinguished ; and a difference in the tone of voice with which each is pronounced, that this dis- tinction may be more powerfully enforced. The dis- tinction of voice I would recommend is a higher tone of voice upon the first part of the contrast ; and, after a long pause, a lower tone upon the second. This mode of pronunciation will, if I mistake not, at once contribute to the clearness, force, and variety of the whole. It may be observed, that when the contrast is form- ed between two persons or things, each of which be- gins the member of a sentence, they must each of RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 115 them have the pause we should give to the comma ; for though these persons or things form the nomina- tive case to the verb, and consist but of a single word, it will be necessary to pause after each, in order to show the contrast more distinctly. EXAMPLES. At the same time that I think discretion the most useful talent a man can be master of, I look upon cunning to be the accomplishment of little, mean, ungenerous minds. Discretion, points out the noblest ends to us, and pursues the most proper and laudable methods of obtaining them : cunning, has only private selfish aims, and sticks at nothing that may make them succeed. Dis- cretion, has large and extended views, and, like a well formed eye, commands a whole horizon : cunning, is a kind of short-sightedness, that discovers the minutest objects that are near at hand, but is not able to discern things at a distance. Discretion, the more it is discovered, gives a greater authority to the person who possesses it: cunning, when it is once detected, loses its force and makes a man incapable of bringing about, even those events, which he might have done had "he passed only for a plain man. Discretion, is the per- fection of reason, and a guide to us in all the duties of life : cunning, is a kind of instinct, that only looks out after our immediate interest and welfare. Dis- cretion, is only found in men of strong sense and good understanding ; cun- ning, is often to be met with in brutes themselves, and in persons who are but the fewest removes from them : in short, cunning, is only the mimic of discretion, and may pass upon weak men, in the same manner as vivacity is often mistaken for wit, and gravity for wisdom. Spectator, A"o. 225. We have a shining instance of the force of constrast in Cicero, where he is showing, the unequal circumstan- ces of Cataline when compared with those of the Ro- man citizens. But waving all other circumstances, let us balance the real situation of the opposing parties ; from that we can form a true notion how very low our enemies are reduced. Here, regard to virtue, opposes insensibility to shame ; purity, pollution; integrity, injustice ; virtue, villany ; resolution, rage ; dig- nity, defilement ; regularity, riot. On one side, are ranged, equity, temper- ance, courage, prudence, and every virtue ;. on the other, iniquity, luxury, cowardice, rashness, with every vice. Lastly, the struggle lies between wealth and want ; the dignity, and degeneracy of reason ; the force, and the frensy of the soul ; between well-grounded hope, and widely extended despair. In such a strife, in such a struggle as this, even though the zeal of men were wanting, must not the immortal gods give such shining virtues the superiority over so great and such complicated vices ? Certainly. Cicero's Oralion azainsi Cataline. 116 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. In pronouncing this passage we must carefully pause . between every contrasted word, or the whole force of the comparison will be lost ; nay, there will be danger of obscuring the sense by blending together opposite qualities, if we do not carefully keep them separate by pauses, and at the same time give an ad- ditional diversity to the opposing parts by a different shade of Bound : that is, if we do not give the former part of the contrast a higher sound, and the latter a somewhat lower. The same observations will hold good in pronounc- ing the following passage in Cicero's Oration for Roscius of Ameria. Therefore, O ye judges! you are now to consider, whether it is more prob- able that the deceased was murdered by the man who inherits his estate, or by him, who inherits nothing but beggary by the same death. By the man who was raised from penury to plenty, or by him who was brought from happiness to misery. By him whom the lust of lucre has inflamed with the most inveterate hatred against his own relations ; or by him whose life was such, that he never knew what gain was but from the product of his own la- bours. By him, who, of all dealers in the trade of blood, was the most auda- cious ; or by him who was so little accustomed to the forum and trials, that he dreads not only the benches of a court, but the very town. In short, ye judges, what I think most to this point is, you are to consider whether it is most likely that an enemy, or a son, would be guilty of this murder. The Series. There is a species of sentences, which forms one of the greatest beauties of composition, and which, if well pronounced, is among the most striking graces of delivery ; that is, where a number of particular mem- bers follow in a series, and form something like a gra- dation or climax. If we consider the nature of such a sentence, it will, in some measure, direct us to a just pronunciation of it. It is a whole, composed of many particulars, arranged in such order as to show each RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 117 part distinctly, and, at the same time, its relation to the whole. In order to mark these particulars dis- tinctly, they must not be suffered to blend with each other ; and at the same time to show that they have a common relation to the whole sentence ; they must not be pronounced entirely different. In short, the simi- litude and diversity in the pronunciation should be an exact picture of the similitude and diversity in the composition. For as a climax in writing ought to rise in force as it proceeds, so the voice, in pronouncing it, ought gradually to increase its force upon every subsequent member. Here is the diversity ; but, as the members have a similar form, and stand equally related to the object of the sentence, they ought to have a similar inflection of the voice. Here is the uniformity : for it is this inflection or slide of the voice that classes speaking sounds more specifically than any other dis- tinction. But as these particulars, when they form a climax, are really emphatical, and require the falling slide, so every series of particulars, whether they re- ally increase in force or not, may, for the sake of grat- ifying the ear, and giving an importance to the sub- ject, adopt the falling inflection likewise. This, how- ever, must be understood only as a general rule. These observations premised, we may proceed to distinguish the series into two kinds : that, where the series begins the sentence, but does not either end it, or form complete sense ; which we may call the commencing series : and that, where the series either ends the sentence, or forms complete sense ; which we may call the concluding series. For the pronuncia- tion of these different sentences, we may lay down this general rule. i 118 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Ill a commencing series, pronounce every particu- lar with the falling inflection but the last ; and in a concluding series, let every member have the falling inflection except the last but one ; and this ought to have the falling inflection likewise, if it be of sufficient length to admit of a pause with a rising inflection be- fore the end. In order to convey as clear an idea as possible of the pronunciation of this figure, a plate is annexed, delineating the inflections of Mr. Addison's beautiful description of Milton's Figure of Death. Commencing Series. To advise the ignorant, relieve the needy, comfort the afflicted, are duties that fall in our way, almost every day of our lives. Spectator, No. 93. In our country, a man seldom sets up for a poet without attacking the reputation of all his brothers in the art. The ignorance of the moderns, the scribblers of the age, the decay of p6etry, are the topics of detraction, with which he makes his entrance into the world. Ibid. A"o. 253. The miser is more industrious than the saint. The pains of getting, the fear of losing, and the inability of enjoying his wealth, have been the mark ef satire in all ages. Ibid. No. 624. When ambition pulls one way, interest another, inclination a third, and perhaps reason contrary to all, a man is likely to pass his time but ill, who hasso many different parties to please. Ibid. JYb. 162. As the genius of Milton was wonderfully turned to the sublime, his subject is the noblest that could have entered into the thoughts of man ; every thing that is truly great and astonishing, has a place in it : the whole system of the intellectual world, the chaos and the creation, heaven, earth, and hell, enter into the constitution of his poem. Ibid. No. 315. Labour or exercise ferments the humours, casts them into their proper channels, throws off redundancies, and helps nature in those secret distribu- tions, without which the body cannot subsist in its vigour, nor the soul act with cheerfulness. Ibid. No. 115. Were the books of our best authors to be retailed to the public, and ev- ery page submitted to the taste of forty or fifty thousand readers, I am afraid we should complain of many flat expressions, trivial observations, beaten topics, and common thoughts, which go off very well in the lump. Ibid. No. 124. To preserve in Macbeth a just consistency of character, to make that RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 119 character naturally susceptible of those desires that were to be communicat- ed to it, to render it interesting to the spectator by some amiable qualities, to make it exemplify the dangers of ambition, and the terrors of remorse, was all that could be required of the tragedian and the moralist. Mrs. Montague's Essay on Shakspeare, p. 198. The descriptive part of this allegory is likewise very strong, and full of sublime ideas. The figure of Death, the regal crown upon his head, his men- ace to Satan, his advancing to the combat, the outcry at his birth, are cir- cumstances too noble to be passed over in silence, and extremely suitable to this king of terrors. Sped. No. 310. Aristotle observes, that the fable of an epic poem should abound in circum- stances that are both credible and astonishing. Milton's fable is a master- piece of this nature ; as the war in heaven, the condition of the fallen angels, the state of innocence, the temptation of the serpent, and the fall of man, though they are very astonishing in themselves, are not only credible, but ac- tual points of faith. Ibid. No. 315. The inconveniences of attendance on great men are more lamented than felt. To the greater number, solicitation is its own reward. To be seen in good company, to talk of familiarities with men in power, to be able to tell the freshest news, to gratify an inferior circle with predictions of increase or decline of favour, and to be regarded as a candidate for high offices, are com- pensations more than equivalent to the delay of favours, which, perhaps, he that asks them, has hardly the confidence to expect. Johnson. Let a man's innocence be what it will, let his virtues arise to the highest pitch of perfection attainable in this life, there will still be in him so many secret sins, so many human frailties, so many offences of ignorance, passion and prejudice, so many unguarded words and thoughts, and, in short, so many defects in his best actions, that, without the advantages of such an expiation and atonement as Christianity has revealed to us, it is impossible that he should be cleared before his sovereign Judge, or that he should be able to stand in his sight. Sped. No. 513. I would fain ask one of those bigoted infidels, supposing all the great points of atheism, as the casual or eternal formation of the world, the materiality of a thinking substance, the mortality of the soul, the fortuitous organization of the body, the motion and gravitation of matter, with the like particulars, were laid together, and formed into a kind of creed according to the opin- ions of the most celebrated atheists ; I say, supposing such a creed as this were formed and imposed upon any one people in the world, whether it would not require an infinitely greater measure of faith than any set of articles which they so violently oppose ? Ibid. No. 168. Concluding Series. Our lives, says Seneca, are spent either in doing nothing at all, or in do- ing nothing to the purpose, or in doing nothing that we ought to do. Ibid. No. 93. It was necessary for the world that arts should be invented and improved, 120 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. books written and transmitted to posterity, nations conquered and civilized Ibid. No. 255. All other acts of perpetuating our ideas, except writing or printing, contin- ue but a short time : statues can last but a few thousand of years, edifices fewer, and colours still fewer than edifices. Ibid. No. 166. This persuasion of the truth of the gospel, without the evidence which ac- companies it, would not have been so firm and so durable ; it would not have acquired new force with age, it would not have resisted the torrent of time. and have passed from age to age to our own days. Life consists, not of a series of illustrious actions, or elegant enjoyments ; the greater part of our time passes in compliance with necessities, in the per- formance of daily duties, in the removal of small inconveniences, in the pro- curement of petty pleasures. Johnson. A man has frequent opportunities of mitigating the fierceness of a party, of doing justice to the character of a deserving man, of softening the envious, quieting the angry, and rectifying the prejudiced ; which are all of them em- ployments suited to a reasonable nature, and bring great satisfaction to the person who can busy himself in them with discretion. Spectator. Though we seem grieved at the shortness of life in general, we are wish- ing every period of it at an end. The minor longs to be at age, then to be a man of business, then to make up an estate, then to arrive at honours, then to retire. Ibid. No. 93. There is no blessing of life comparable to the enjoyment of a discreet and virtuous friend. It eases and unloads the mind, clears and improves the un- derstanding, engenders thoughts and knowledge, animates virtue and good resolutions, and finds employment for the most vacant hours of life. Spectator, JXo. 93. The devout man does not only believe, but feels there is a Deity ; he has actual sensations of him ; his experience concurs with his reason ; he sees him more in all his intercourses with him ; and even in this life almost loses his faith in conviction. Ibid. No. 465. The ill-natured man, though but of equal parts with the good-natured man, gives himself a larger field to expatiate in; he exposes those failings in hu- man nature which the other would cast a veil over, laughs at vices which the other either excuses or conceals, falls indifferently upon friends or ene- mies, exposes the person who has obliged him, and, in short, sticks at nothing that may establish his character of a wit. Ibid. No. 169. For what can interrupt the content of the fair sex, upon whom one age has laboured after another to confer honours and accumulate immunities? those, to whom rudeness is infamy, and insult is cowardice ? whose eye com- mands the brave, and whose smile softens the severe ? whom the sailor trav- els to adorn, the soldier bleeds to defend, and the poet wears out life to cele- brate ; who claim tribute from every art and science, and for whom all who approach them endeavour to multiply delights, without requiring from them any return but willingness to be pleased. s Johnson. Nature has laid out all her art in beautifying the face ; she has touched it RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 121 with vermilion, planted in it a double row of ivory, made it the seat of smiles and blushes, lighted it up and enlivened it with the brightness of the eyes, hung it on each side with curious organs of sense, given it airs and graces that cannot be described, and surrounded it with such a flowing shade of hair, as sets all its beauties in the most agreeable light. Spectator, No. 98. Nothing is more pleasant to the fancy, than to enlarge itself by degrees, in its contemplation of the various proportions which its several objects bear to each other, when it compares the body of man to the bulk of the whole earth, the earth to the circle it describes round the sun, that circle to the sphere of the fixed stars, the sphere of the fixed stars to the circuit of the whole creation, the whole creation itself to the infinite space that is every where diffused about it : or when the imagination works downward, and considers the bulk of a human body in respect of an animal a hundred times less than a mite, the particular limbs of such an animal, the different springs which actuate the limbs, the spirits which set these springs a-g6ing, and the proportionable minuteness of these several parts, before they have arrived at their full growth and perfection. Spectator, JVb. 420. Should the greater part of the people sit down and draw up a particular account of their time, what a shameful bill would it be ! So much in eating, and drinking, and sleeping, beyond what nature requires ; so much in revel- ling and wantonness ; so much for the recovery of last night's intemperance ; so much in gaming, plays, and masquerades ; so much in paying and receiv- ing formal and impertinent visits ; so much in idle and foolish prating in censuring and reviling our neighbours ; so much in dressing out our bodies and talking of fashions ; and so much wasted and lost in doing nothing at all. Sherlock. Question and Answer, When a speaker puts a question to himself, and immediately answers it, he becomes as it were two persons : and as in all interlocutory discourse, we find the person who questions and he who answers assume a somewhat different tone of * voice, so a speaker who assumes both these personages ought also to assume the different tones they make use of; that is, the question should be pronounced in a high- er, a more open and declarative tone, and the answer, (after a long pause,) in a lower, firmer, and more def- inite one. Such a distinction of voice is not only proper to distinguish the sense of each sentence, and 16 12S RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. to keep them from blending together, and confusing the thought, but it gives a more emphatic turn to the meaning, and gratifies the ear by its variety. This figure of speaking is often adopted by the best orators, and merits careful attention in pronouncing it. Thus Cicero, in his oration for Mursena, makes use of this figure, where he says — But to return to what I proposed ; away with the name of Cato from this dispute : away with all authority, which in a court of justice ought to have no other influence but to save. Join issue with me upon the crimes themselves. What is your charge, Cato ? What is to be tried ? What do you offer evidence of? Do you impeach corruption ? I do not defend it. Do you blame me for defending, by my pleading, what I punished by law ? I answer, that I punished corruption and not innocence : as to corruption, if you please, I will go hand in hand with yourself in impeaching it. In pronouncing this passage, we may observe that the answers, / do not defend it — / answer, that I punished corruption and not innocence, ought to be preceded by a long pause, and pronounced in a lower tone of voice, than the questions to which they relate. We have another example of this figure in his oration for Cselius : The charge of poisoning now only remains to be discussed ; of which I can neither see the foundation, nor unravel the design. For what reason could Cadius have to endeavour to poison that lady ? That he might not pay back the gold ? Pray did she demand it ? To avoid the discovery of his guilt ? But who charged him ? Who would even have mentioned it, had not Cadius impeached a certain person ? Iii this passage we find one question answered by another; and that question in the first instance, Pray did she demand it ? requiring the rising inflec- tion at the end. In this case, however, notwith- standing the question ends with the rising turn of voice, the whole must be pronounced in a lower tone than the question which precedes it. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 123 But one of the most animated figures of this kind we find in his oration for Milo : Were the situation of things to be expressed in painting, instead of words, yoa might then distinguish the traitor from the undesigning person: as the one "was sitting in his chariot, wrapped up in his cloak, and his wife by his side ; it is hard to say if the cloak, the chariot, or the companion, was the greatest impediment to such an intention. For what can carry less the appearance of a design to fight, than a man entangled with a cloak, shut up in a chariot, and almost fettered by a wife ? Now, my lords, survey Clodius first leaving his seat in a hurry. For what reason ? In the evening. Upon what emergency ? Late. To what purpose, especially at this season ? He strikes off to Pompey's country-house. Why ? That he might visit Pompey ? He knew he was at his seat by Albium. Was it to view his house ? He had been in it a thousand times. Then what could be his motive for all this sauntering and shifting ? Why. to loiter ;. to gain time, that he might be sure to be on the spot when Milo came up. The three first questions in this example have no answers, but are still to be pronounced in a higher tone of voice than the affirmative propositions, In the evening, Late, He strikes off to Pompey's country- house. But the succeeding questions have all an- swers, which must, after a considerable pause, adopt a lower tone of voice than the questions that precede them. Echo. I have adopted this name for want of a better, to express that repetition of a word or thought, which immediately arises from a word or thought that pre- ceded it. Thus Mr. Phillips, in Chandlers Parlia- mentary Debates : Sir, I should be much surprised to hear the motion made by the honourable gentleman, who spoke last but one, opposed by any member in this house. A motion, founded in justice, supported by precedent, and warranted by necessity. Here the word motion may be called the echoing ivord. which ought always to be pronounced as if 224 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. marked with a note of admiration ; that is, with the rising inflection in a high tone of voice, and a long pause after it, when it implies any degree of passion, as in this example ; but when it is merely narrative or didactic, as in the following passage : Tully was the first who observed that friendship improves happiness and abates misery, by the doubling of our joy, and dividing of our grief : a thought, w which he hath been followed by all the essayers upon friendship that have written since his time. Spectator, JYo. 68. Here the word thought ought to have the rising inflection, and a pause after it, but must not be in the tone which the word motion in the former ex- ample required, as it is plain, sedate reasoning, and totally devoid of passion. But in a speech of Mr. Pitt, before he was Lord Chatham, we find the ech- oing word require the same inflection and pause as in the last example, but accompanied with the high impassioned tone heard in the first : I cannot say, sir, which of these motives influence the advocates of the bill before us ; a bill in which such cruelties are proposed as are yet unknown among the most savage nations ; such as slavery has not yet borne or tyranny invented ; such as cannot be heard without resentment, nor thought without horror. Chandler's Debates, 1740. But the most beautiful example of this figure, in our, or perhaps in any other language, is that we meet with in Hannah More's Strictures on Female Education. Speaking on dissipation and the mod- ern habits of life, and particularly on the spirit of gaming, she says, With " mysterious reverence" I forbear to descant on those serious and interesting rites, for the more august and solemn celebration of which fashion nightly convenes these splendid myriads to her more sumptuous temples. Rites ! which, when engaged in with due devotion, absorb the whole soul, and call every passion into exercise, except those indeed of love and peace, and kindness and gentleness. Inspiring rites ! which stimulate fear, rouse hope, kindle zeal, quicken dulness, sharpen discernment, exercise .memory, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 125 inflame curiosity ! Rites ! in short, in the due performance of which, all the energies and attentions, all the powers and abilities, all the abstraction and exertion, all the diligence and devotedness, all the sacrifice of time, all the contempt of ease, all the neglect of sleep, all the oblivion of care, all the risks of fortune, (half of which, if directed to their true objects, would change the very face of the world.) all these are concentrated to one point : a point ! in which the wise and the weak, the learned and the ignorant, the fair and the frightful, the sprightly and the dull, the rich and the poor, the patrician and plebeian meet in one common uniform equality : an equality ! as religiously respected in these solemnities, in which all distinctions are levelled at a blow, and of which the very spirit is therefore democratical, as it is combated in all other instances. This passage is at once a brilliant example of the echo and the series ; and one hardly knows which to admire most, the beautiful structure of the sen- tences, the varied and animated imagery of the thought, or the philosophical justness of the moral sentiment. In pronouncing this beautiful passage, the word rites must become more emphatical with the rising inflection every time it is repeated, and the pauses after it longer. The words point and equality ought to have the same pause and inflection, and the several series to be pronounced according to the rules under that head, page 116. Cicero, pleading before Caesar for king Dejotarus, says, What shall I say of his courage, what of his magnanimity, his gravity, his firmness ? Qualities ! which all the wise and learned allow to be the greatest and some the only blessings of life, and which enable virtue not only to enjoy comfort but happiness. Again, pleading for the same client, he says, The man then who was not only pardoned, but distinguished by you with the highest honors, is charged with an intention to kill you in his own house. An intention, of which, unless you imagine that he is utterly deprived of reason you cannot suspect him. Here the words qualities and intention require the rising inflection, with a long pause after them, acqom- 126 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. panied with a considerable degree of admiration and surprise. The same pause, inflection of voice, surprise, and admiration, must accompany the word laws, in the following passage in his first oration against Antony. By the dead are the banished recalled. By the dead are the privileges of Rome bestowed, not on private persons only, but upon whole nations and provinces. By the dead, members of corporations have their tribute remit- ted. We therefore confirm whatever, upon a single but unquestionable evi- dence, has been produced from this house ; and shall we think of ratifying the acts of Caesar, yet abolish his laws? Those laws which he himself, in our sight, repeated, pronounced, enacted ? Laws which he valued himself upon passing? Laws in which he thought the system of our government was comprehended ? Laws which concern our provinces and our trials ? Are we, I say, to repeal such laws, yet ratify his acts ? Yet may we at least complain of those which are only proposed ; as to those which we pass, Ave are deprived even of the liberty to complain. In pronouncing this passage, it ought to be observ- ed, that the echoing word laws ought to be pronounc- ed with increasing force upon every repetition, which will give it a climax of importance, and greatly add to the variety of it. This mode of pronunciation will be more peculiarly proper upon the same word in an- other passage in his oration against Piso. During all this time, who ever heard you, I will not say actor remonstrate, but so much as speak or complain ? Can you imagine yourself to have been a consul, when, under your government, the man who had saved his coun- try, who had saved the majesty of the senate, — when the man who had led in triumph into Italy, at three several times, the inhabitants of every quarter of the world, declared that he could not safely appear in public? Were you consuls at the time, when, as soon as you began to open your mouths upon any affair, or to make any motion in the senate, the whole assembly cried out, and gave you to understand, that you were not to proceed to business before you had put the question for my return ; when, though fet- tered by the convention you had made, you yet told them, that you wished, with ail your heart, that you were not bound up by law ? A law , which did not appear to be binding upon private subjects ; a law, branded upon this con- stitution by the hands of slaves, engraved by violence, imposed by ruffians ; while the senate was abolished, all our patriots driven out of the forum ; the republic in captivity ; a law, contradictory to all other laws, and passed with-' . RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 127 out any of the usual forms. The consuls, who could pretend they were a- fraid of such a law as this, were ignorant of the laws, the institutions, and the rights, of that very state in which they pretended to a share of the government. Antecedent. Pronouns that are antecedents to some relative are often pronounced without accent, and by that means render the sense of the sentence feeble and indistinct. The antecedent and the relative are correspondent words, which ought to be distinctly, though net em- phatically, marked, in order to show the precise mean- ing of a sentence. When pronouns are not antece- dent to a relative, they are often pronounced without accent ; and as the words they refer to are sufficiently understood, this unaccented pronunciation produces no obscurity. Thus in the following sentence : He cannot exalt his thoughts to any thing great or noble, because he only believes that, after a short turn on the stage of this world, he is to sink into oblivion, and to lose his consciousness for ever. Here the person spoken of is supposed to be under- stood, and there is no necessity of laying even accen- tual stress on the word he : but in the following sen- tence : He cannot exalt his thoughts to any thing great or noble, who only be- lieves that, after a short turn on the stage of this world, he is to sink into oblivion, and lose his consciousness for ever. Here we find the pronoun he the antecedent to the relative who, and perceive the necessity of giving it an accent, and making a considerable pause after ft. When the relative immediately follows the antece- dent, the antecedent requires an accent and pause af- ter it in the same manner. He, that pursues fame with just claims, trusts his happiness to the winds ; but he, that endeavours after it by false merit, has to fear ? not only the vio- lence of the storm, but the leaks of his vessel. Johmon. 128 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. This passage will want much of its force and pre- cision, if we do not lay an accent on the pronoun he, and make a sensible pause after it. The same may be observed of the following sen- tence. He, that is loudly praised, will be clamorously censured ; he, that rises hastily into fame, will be in danger of sinking suddenly into oblivion. Ibid. An attention to the foregoing rule will direct us in some doubtful cases, and give a decision to what might otherwise appear equivocal. Thus, when Zanga, in the Revenge, is applauding himself for his conduct; and apologizing for the obliquity of it, he says, And greater sure my merit, who, to gain A point sublime, could such a task sustain. It has already been observed, that when the pro- noun my is in opposition to any other possessive pro- noun, it is emphatical, and requires the sound rhym- ing with high. In this instance, herhaps, it may be said that my is emphatical, as it points out the person of the speaker in contradistinction from every other, and therefore requires the open sound of y with a de- gree of force upon it ; and that who is here not deter- minative, but explicative ; that is, it does not neces- sarily restrain the merit to him, because he acts in that manner, but only expatiates on the merit by way of supplement. This may possibly be the case ; but since the sense will admit of the who's being deter- minative, pronouncing the my with the emphatic sound takes away all doubt, and gives a completeness to the sense, as well as plenitude to the sound of the line. There is the same necessity for accentual force and a pause, when the pronoun is in the objective, as when it is in the nominative case. liHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 129 A man will have his servant just, diligent, sober, and chaste, for no other reason but the terrour of losing his master's favour, when all the laws, divine and human, cannot keep him whom he serves within bounds, with relation to any one of these virtues. Sped. JVo. 202. This rule leads us to decide upon the pronunciation of the pronoun, when in the objective case, and when the relative to which it corresponds is not expressed but understood. From what has been observed, we may conclude, that, whenever there is an antecedent and a relative, there is a necessary connexion, which requires the for- mer alw r ays to have accentual force, to intimate that the relative is in view, and in some measure to antici- pate the pronunciation of it. EXAMPLE. As folly and inconsiderateness are the foundations of infidelity, the great pillars and supporters of it are either the vanity of appearing wiser than the rest of mankind, or in ostentation of courage in despising the terrours of an- other world, which have so great an influence on what they call weaker minds; or an aversion to a belief, which must cut them off from many of those pleasures they propose to themselves, and fill them with remorse for many of them they have already tasted. Spectator, JVo. 136. The antithesis in the latter part of this sentence may at first sight seem to require an emphasis on them, as opposed to those pleasures they propose to themselves ; but if we examine the state of the antithe- sis more narrowly, we shall find that the opposite parts will be sufficiently contrasted without a stress on them, since the sense would be perfect without this word ; but as there is a relative understood before the word they, we find the propriety of a stress on the antece- dent them, in order to correspond to the elliptical rel- ative. Hannah More, whose language is so pointed and perspicuous, so rich, and at the same time so correct, 17 130 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. had less need, perhaps, than most writers to mark emphatical words in Italics : yet her knowledge of just pronunciation has induced her to mark an ante- cedent pronoun, that its correspondence with its relative might be sufficiently intimated. This occurs in a passage which contains, perhaps, What oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed. Pope. Thus the weakest reasoners are always the most positive in debate : and the cause is obvious ; for they are unavoidably driven to maintain their pre- tensions by violence, who want arguments and reasons to prove that they are in the right. Strictures on Modern Female Education, vol. ii. p. 15. Variation. The causes of variety in reading and speaking are felt in their effects, but are very difficult to describe. The play of a melodious voice, from high to low, from loud to soft, or from quick to slow, charms us with the pleasing transition from one to the other ; but affords so little ground for investigating the princi- ples on which it depends, that the generality of writers on this subject content themselves with advis- ing their readers to observe the best pronouncers, and to follow them as closely as possible. This ad- vice is certainly very rational, though not very satis- factory. Rules are the soul of art and science ; and he who can trace one in an art which was supposed to be incapable of rules, has added something, how- ever small, to the mass of general knowledge. A conviction of this has encouraged me to offer a few rules for varying the voice in reading, by an atten- tion to the inflection of voice on certain parts of a sentence, where at first sight there appears to be no necessity for any alteration of voice ; or if there were, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 131 that any such alteration is perfectly arbitrary : both these mistakes, however, will be rectified by attend- ing to the pronunciation of the following sentence : When I am in a serious humour, I very often walk by myself in Westmin- ster Abbey ; where the gloominess of the place, and the use to which it is applied, with the solemnity of the building, and the condition of the people who lie in it, are apt to fill the mind with a kind of melancholy, or rather thoughtfulness, that is not disagreeable. Sped. No. 428. If the latter members of this sentence, which are very properly marked with commas, were all to have the same inflection, (or suspension of voice, as it is commonly called,) the monotony would strike every one : but let the falling inflection be placed on place, building, and mind, and an agreeable variety will suc- ceed the monotone, which will convince us that this variety arises from the regular variation of inflection upon successive members of the sentence. Under the article series it has been seen how much force and variety arise from pronouncing the several successive members with an appropriate inflection of voice. It may in the same mauner be observed, that wherever similar members occur, though no more than three, a variation of inflection may be adopted with advantage. Thus, in the following example : Good nature is more agreeable in conversation than wit, and gives a cer- tain air to the countenance, which is more amiable than beauty. It shows virtue in the fairest light, takes off in some measure from the deformity of vice, and makes even folly and impertinence supportable. Sped. No. 169. In the last sentence of this example, by placing the falling inflection on light at the end of the first member, we shall diversify it from the next member, which must have the rising, and so form an agreeable cadence. In the same manner, where there are three mem- bers in the former part of a sentence before the sense 132 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. begins to form, the falling inflection upon the antepe- nultimate member, as it may be called, will give an a- greeable variety to the whole. The philosopher, the saint, or the hero ; the wise, the good, or the great man * very often lie hid and concealed in a plebeian, which a proper educa- tion might have disinterred and have brought to light. Sped. JVo.215. Here, by placing the falling inflection on hero, we shall diversify it from the rising on plebeian, and add considerably to the harmony of the cadence. It may be observed, when the first principal con- structive member of a sentence extends to a consider- able length before the sense begins to form, that, as soon as the sense begins to form, the voice ought to take every occasion of relieving the ear from the sameness which was necessary to connect the sense in the first member ; and for that purpose the falling inflection should be adopted as soon as possible at the beginning of the second member, both in order to pro- duce a variety and to form a cadence. As the noblest mien, or most graceful action, would be degraded and ob- scured by-a garb appropriated to the gross employments of rustics or mechan- ics, so the most heroic sentiments will lose their efficacy, and the most splendid ideas drop their magnificence, if they are conveyed by words used commonly upon low and trivial occasions. Johnson. In this sentence, as the voice must preserve a same- ness on the subordinate pauses till it comes to mechan- ics, where it adopts the rising inflection and long pause, so it must adopt the falling inflection on senti- ments and ideas, to relieve the ear from that sameness, and form a cadence. Nearly the same observations hold good in the fol- lowing sentence : As beauty of body, with an agreeable carriage, pleases the eye, and that pleasure consists in observing that all the parts have a certain elegance, and RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 133 are proportioned to each other; so does beauty of behaviour, which appears in our lives, obtain the approbation of all with whom we converse, from the order, consistency, and moderation of our words and actions. Spectator, No. 104. Here the sense extends to other before it begins to form, and, consequently, the voice must be carried on with little variation till that word is pronounced with the rising inflection and long pause ; after which the voice must adopt the rising inflection on beauty, and the falling on behaviour; the falling both on approbation, and the word all ; when the cadence must be formed by the falling inflection on order and consistency, the rising on moderation; and the rising on ivords, and the falling on actions, the voice descending in a grad- ually lower tone. On the period^ and the method of forming a cadence. When a sentence is so far perfectly finished, as not to be connected in construction with the following sen- tence, it is marked with a period. This point is in general so well understood, that few grammarians have thought it necessary to give an express example of it ; though there are none who have inquired into punctuation who do not know, that in loose sentences the period is frequently confounded with the colon. But though the tone with which we conclude a sen- tence is generally well understood, we cannot be too careful, in pronunciation, to distinguish it as much as possible from that member of a sentence which con- tains perfect sense, and is usually pointed with a co- lon. Such members, which may not be improperly called sententiolce, or little sentences, require the fal- ling inflection, but in a higher tone than the preced- ing words, as if we had only finished a part of what 134 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. we had to say ; while the period requires the falling inflection in a lower tone, as if we had nothing more to add. But this final tone does not only lower the last word ; it has the same influence on those which more immediately precede the last ; so that the ca- dence is prepared by a gradual fall upon the conclud- ing words, every word in the latter part of a sentence sliding gently lower, till the voice drops upon the last. This will more evidently appear upon repeating the following sentence. This persuasion of the truth of the gospel, without the evidence whichacconi- panies it, would not have been so firm and so durable : it would not have acquired new force with age : it would not have resisted the torrent of time, and have passed from age to age to our own days. We find perfect sense formed at the word durable ; but as this does not conclude the sentence, these words, though adopting the falling inflection, are pronounc- ed in a higher tone than the rest : the same may be observed of the word age, which ends the second mem- ber ; while in the last member not only the word days is pronounced lower than the rest, but the whole mem- ber falls gradually into the cadence, and have passed from age to age to oar own days. Let us tajte another example : It was said of Socrates, that he brought philosophy down from heaven to inhabit among men ; and I shall be ambitious to have it said of me, that I have brought philosophy out of cl6sets and libraries, schools and colleges, to dwell in clubs and assemblies, at tea-tables and in coffee-houses. Spectator, No. 10. When this sentence is properly read, every ear will perceive a peculiar harmony in the cadence, but few will judge from whence it proceeds. If we analyse it, we shall see that four accented words are contrasted with other four, and that the inflections on each are in an exactly opposite order. This number of accent- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 135 ed words, and this order of the inflections, is so agree- able to the ear, that a judicious reader will endeavour to fall into it as often as the sense will permit him, as in the preceding example ; and if the sense will only allow him four accented words, as in the following example, he will be sure to preserve the same arrangement of inflections. Nature seems to have designed the head as the cupola to the most glori- ous of her works : and when we load it with such a pile of supernumerary ornaments, we destroy the symmetry of the human figure, and fo61ishly contrive to call off" the eye from great and real beauties, to childish gewgaws, ribbons, and bone-lace. Spectator, No. 98. In pronouncing this finishing sentence of the essay, we ought to begin the cadence after the word figure ; then to let the voice play up and down upon the words foolishly and contrive-, call off, and the eye ; that is, to give foolishly the rising and contrive the falling inflec- tion — the words call off the rising, and the eye the fal- ling : then the last member after beauties, consisting of four accented words, should have the two inflections arranged as they are in the example ; that is, falling, rising, rising, falling, and these to be pronounced in a gradually descending tone till the close of the sen- tence. But here it will be absolutely necessary to observe, that though the period generally requires the falling inflection, every period does not necessarily adopt this inflection in the same tone of voice : if sentences are intimately connected in sense, though the gram- matical structure of each may be independent on the other, they may not improperly be considered as so many small sentences making one large one, and thus requiring a pronunciation correspondent to their log- ical dependence on each other : hence \t may be laid 136 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. down as a general rule, that a series of periods in reg- ular succession are to be pronounced as every other series ; that is, if they follow each other regularly as parts of the same observation, they are to be pronounc- ed as parts, and not as wholes. EXAMPLES. Some men cannot discern between a noble and a mean action. Others are apt to attribute them to some false end or intention, and others purpose- ly misrepresent or put a wrong interpretation on them. Sped. No. 255. Though the first part of this passage is marked with a period in all the editions of the Spectator, I have seen, nothing can be plainer than that it ought to be pronounced as the first member of the conclud- ing series of three compound members. See article, Compound Series. Thus, although the whole of life is allowed by every one to be short, the several divisions of it appear long and tedious. We are for lengthening our span in general, but would fain contract the parts of which it is composed. The usurer would be very well satisfied to have all the time annihilated that lies between the present moment and next quarter-day. The politician would be contented to lose three years in his life, could he place things in the posture which he fancies they will stand in after such a revolution of time. The minor would be glad to strike out of his existence all the mo- ments that are to pass away before he comes of age. Thus as fast as our time runs, we should be very glad, in most part of our lives, that it ran much faster than it does. Sped. No. 93. Though here are no less than six periods in this passage, and every one of them requires the falling inflection, yet the voice ought not to fall into a lower tone till the last sentence but one, where the words, before he comes of age, must fall gradually to the end. But in order to give variety, and form a cadence, the last sentence must be pronounced in a different man- ner from the rest ; that is, the whole in a lower tone, with the last member falling gradually, and the differ- ent slides on the several words, as marked in the ex- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 137 ample. As the last of these sentences which forms the cadence does not fall into the came accentual por- tions as in the examples, page 134, 135, the inflec- tions are repeated in the same order upon the four last as on the four first words, and the last member adopts the same order of inflections as in the series. See Elements of Elocution, page il2. On Accented Force. By accent is generally and justly understood a greater force on one syllable of a word than on anoth- er; but whether this force was pronounced in a high- er, or only in a louder tone, was undecided, till, by distinguishing the voice into its two inflections, the accented syllable was found to be always louder, and either higher or lower, than the rest of the syllables, according to the inflection with which the accent was pronounced.* The seat of the accent, or that sylla- ble in a word which has a right to it, in preference to the rest, is decided by custom, and does not form any part of the present inquiry. The question here dis- cussed is, What is the nature of that force on a certain syllable of a word, which word cannot properly be called emphatical ? Thus, in the following sentence, Evil communication corrupts integrity, not a single word is emphatical. Every word is pro- nounced with an equal degree of force, and every word has one accented syllable pronounced evidently louder than the rest. But in the following sentence, Censure is the tax a man pays to the public for being eminent ; — in the pronunciation of this sentence, I say, we find the words in Italics pronounced with an equal degree * See Elements of Elocution, p. 186. 18 13S RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. of force, but that the others sink into a feebleness, distinguishable by the dullest ear. If we inquire what degree of feebleness it is which these words fall into, we shall find it to be exactly that which is giv- en to the unaccented syllables of the words censure, public, and eminent : so that if we consider the words in Roman letters as unaccented syllables of the others, and joined to them as such, we shall have a precise idea of the comparative force of each. Let us, for example, suppose them written in the manner follow- ing,— Censure isthetax amanpkys totkepublic forbeingeminent ; and we find we have a precise and definite idea of the two forces, and need not recur to the common vague direction of " pronouncing some words more forcibly, but not so as to deprive the rest of all force :" — the forces of these two kinds of words are as much settled, as the two kinds of force on accented and unaccented syllables, and these are sufficiently understood by all who have the gift of speech. The first obvious distinction, therefore, between the sounds of words, with respect to force, is into accent- ed and unaccented ; and while we know what force we ought to give to the unaccented syllables of a word, we can be at no loss for the force on unaccented words ; and we need but consider these words as the unac- cented syllables of the others, to pronounce them prop- erly. On Emphatic Force. Emphatic force, or that force we give to words either placed in opposition to other words or suggest- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 139 ing such an opposition, — this force I say, is not quite so definite as the force of accent : very luckily, howev- er, the degree of emphatic words is not' so essential to emphasis, as the degree of accented force is to ac- cented words : if we pronounce the smaller and less important words of a sentence with the same force w r e do the more significant words, we shall soon find that accent is of much more importance to the sense than emphasis. Let us, for example, pronounce every word in the foregoing sentence (where there is no emphatic word) with an equal degree of force, and we shall find they want that light and shade, which are necessary to form a strong picture of the thought. On the con- trary, let us preserve the proper inflections upon the accented syllables of emphatic words, and we shall find the sense fully and clearly brought out, without any more force upon these words than is given to the other accented words, which are not emphatical. Thus, in the following sentence, The corruption of the best things produces the worst, we find the two words best and ivorst are in opposition to each other, and are therefore emphatical ; but in order to express this emphasis, we do not find our- selves under the least necessity of pronouncing these words louder or more forcibly than the words corrup- tion and produces. The word things indeed must necessarily be pronounced feeble, like an unaccented syllable of the word best ; and it is on this feebleness of the word, which belongs to both parts of the empha- sis, that the emphatic sense depends much more than on the force which is given to the emphatic words themselves. Let us try to illustrate this by examples. Prosperity gains friends, and adversity tries them. In this sentence we find the force of the emphatic 140 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. words depends entirely on the feebleness with which we pronounce the words common to both parts of the antithesis : for if, instead of pronouncing the words friends and them as unaccented syllables of gains and tries, we should give them the same force we do to the latter words, the emphasis and meaning of the sen- tence would be entirely lost. Let us take another ex- ample. I do not so much request as demand your attention. Here the words your attention may be called the el- liptical words ; for it is by ellipsis only that they are omitted after request ; and these words must necessa- rily be pronounced like unaccented syllables of the word demand, or the sentence will be deprived of its energy. If we pronounce these words feebly, the words request and demand may only have common accented force, and yet the emphatic sense of the sen- tence will be very perceptible ; but if we pronounce your attention with as much force as the words request and demand, let us increase the force on these latter words as much as we please, we shall find it impossi- ble to make the sentence emphatical. Thus we see, that pronouncing the elliptical words feebly, and as if they were only unaccented syllables of those to which they belong, is of much more im- portance to the sense of a sentence, than any addition- al force on the emphatic word. If it be demanded what is the degree of force we must give to emphatic words, when we do bestow this force on them, it may be answered, that this will in a great measure depend on the degree of passion, with which the words are expressed ; but if we have merely an eye to the ex- pression of the sense, (for expressing the sense of a pas- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 141 sage, and expressing the passion of it, are very dif- ferent things,) we may make the force of the emphatic words exceed that of the accented words, as much as the accented force exceeds the unaccented. Having thus shown the nature of accent and em- phasis, as they are two species of force, and endeav- oured to evince the necessity of attending more to the inflection of the accent than to any greater degree of force upon it ; I shall, in the next place, give a concise view of the cause of emphasis, or that particular mean- ing in the words which requires a more than common force in the pronunciation of them. What it is that constitutes Emphasis. In every assemblage of objects, some will appear more worthy of notice than others. In every assem- blage, of ideas, which are pictures of these objects, the same difference will certainly reign among them ; and in every assemblage of words, which are pictures of these ideas, we shall find some of more importance than others. It is the business of a speaker to mark this importance, and, consequently, a good speaker will make his pronunciation an exact picture of the words. The art of speaking then must principally consist in arranging each word into its proper class of importance, and afterwards giving it a suitable pro- nunciation. We have seen, in the last article, that the prepositions, conjunctions, and smaller words, are generally pronounced like unaccented syllables of the nouns, verbs, and participles, to which they belong, and that these are sometimes pronounced more or less forcibly, according to the peculiar meaning annexed to them. 142 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Now what is this peculiar meaning in words which requires a more than ordinary force in pronouncing them, and properly denominates them emphatical? This question, however difficult it may appear at first sight, may be answered in one word, — opposition. Whenever words are contrasted with, contradistin- guished^/rom, or opposed to, other words, they fere al- ways emphatical. When both parts of this opposi- tion or contrast are expressed, the emphatic words become very obvious $ as in the following passage from Pope : 'Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill Appear in writing, or in judging ill : But of the two, less dangerous is th' offence To tire our patience, than mislead our sense ; Some few in that, but numbers err in this ; Ten censure wrong, for one who writes amiss. In this passage, every word in Italics may be said to be emphatical ; as every one of these words is oppos- ed to some other word, as to its correlative or corres- pondent word. In the second line, judging is oppos- ed to writing ; in the fourth, mislead is opposed to tire, and sense to patience ; in the fifth, few is opposed to numbers, and this to that ; as in the last one, one is opposed to ten, and writes to censure ; turong and amiss being only two words for exactly the same idea, have no opposition to each other, and therefore cannot be emphatical. But when the opposition, in which emphasis con- sists, is elliptical ; that is, when but one part of the antithesis is expressed, and the other is to be suppli- ed by the understanding, and made out by the pro- nunciation ; when this is the case, I say, the emphat- ic word is not so easilv discovered. Here then we RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 143 must have recourse to the general import of the sen- tence ; and whatever word we suppose to be emphati- cal, must be tried, by pronouncing it more forcibly than the rest of the words ; and if this pronunciation suggests a phrase, which, if inserted in the sentence, would explain and illustrate it, we may be sure that word is emphatical. Let us try to make this clear by examples. And if each system in gradation roll, Alike essential to th' amazing whole ; The least confusion but in one, not all That system only, but the whole must fall. In the third line of this passage, we find an uncommon effort in the author to express " the strong connexions, nice dependencies" of one part of the general system upon another : and, if we lay a strong emphasis on the word one, we shall find this connexion and depen- dency very powerfully enforced ; for it will suggest this antithesis : " the least confusion, not in several or a great many parts of the universe, but even in one, would bring confusion on the whole." This para- phrase we not only find consistent with the sense of the poet, but greatly illustrative of it : and hence we may determine the word one to be emphatical. Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard affords us another striking instance of emphasis, where only one part of the antithesis is expressed. The writer is foretelling what some hoary- headed swain will say of him when he lies numbered among the unhonoured dead. One morn I miss'd him on th' accustom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree ; Another came, nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn ; nor at the wood, was he. 144 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. The next with dirges due, in sad array, Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne : Approach, and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Grav'd on the stone, beneath yon aged thorn. Here the words, thou canst are emphatical, as they are evidently opposed to / cannot, which are under- stood ; a very beautiful way of hinting the simplicity of the swain from his ignorance of the written charac- ters of his language. In these instances, the opposition suggested by the emphatical word is sufficiently evident ; in other ca- ses, perhaps, the antithesis is not quite so obvious ; but if an emphasis can be laid on any word, we may be assured that word is in antithesis with some mean- ing agreeable to the general sense of the passage. To illustrate this, let us pronounce a line of Mar- cus, in Cato, where, expressing his indignation at the behaviour of Caesar, he says, I r m tortur'd even to madness when I think Of the proud victor, and we shall find the greatest stress fall naturally on that word, which seems opposed to some common or general meaning ; for the young hero does not say, in the common and unemphatic sense of the word think, that he is tortured even to madness when he thinks on Caesar, but on the strong and emphatic sense of this word, which implies not only u when I hear or dis- course of him, but even when I think of him, Fin tortur'd even to madness." As the word think therefore rises above the common level of signification, it is pronounced above the com- mon level of sound ; and as this signification is oppos- ed to a signification less forcible, the word may be properly said to be emphatical. For we must carefully RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 145 remember, that emphasis is that stress we lay on words which are in opposition or contradistinction to other icords, expressed or understood. For a more exact idea of the nature of emphasis, See Elements of Elocution: Introduction to the The- ory of Emphasis, page 188. On the different Forces of Emphatic Words. It is impossible not to have observed in the last ar- ticle, that the emphatic words of the latter kind, where but one part of the antithesis is expressed, are pro- nounced much more forcibly than those where both parts of the antithesis are laid down, and the opposi- tion appears at full length. The reason seems to be this : as emphasis always implies opposition, either expressed or understood, when this opposition is ex- pressed, it is sufficiently obvious, and needs not a more forcible pronunciation than accented words to make it perceived ; but when only one emphatic word is ex- pressed, and the other understood, it is necessary to increase the force upon the word expressed, that what is in opposition to it, and is not expressed, may be- come more obvious and intelligible. If these observations are just, we see an evident reason why most of those books which mark the era- phatical words in Italics make almost every significant word emphatical ; and why this practice is so much decried by others, as a useless multiplication of em- phasis : — both these parties are in the right. The former, perceiving great numbers of words in opposi- tion to each other, very properly considered them as emphatical $ and perceiving at the same time, that al- 19 146 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. most every substantive, adjective, and verb, had as much force in the pronunciation as these emphatical words, they knew not how to draw the line between them, and so marked them all indiscriminately as em- phatical. The latter, finding that very few words were pronounced more forcibly than the words we have just been describing, concluded that very few words were emphatical, because so few were to be pronounc- ed more forcibly than the rest. Thus, for want of a distinction between the two kinds of emphatic words, neither party seems to have understood where the fault lay. It must be confessed, however, that the practice of marking so many words in Italics, as emphatical, without distinguishing between emphasis expressed, and emphasis understood ; and without telling us pre- cisely the degree of force to be given to the words un- marked, was a much greater source of errour, than denying emphasis to such words as had no more force than common substantives, adjective, and verbs. The latter opinion wouid at least leave the understanding to judge for itself, while the former would often mislead it. Marking every significant word as emphatical tends greatly to give a turgid and bombastic pronun- ciation to common words, at the same time that it les- sens our attention to such as really deserve extraordi- nary force. This cannot be better explained, than by quoting a passage from one of the best books of this kind, and making a few observations on it. The pas- sage I intend to consider is the latter part of Pope's Prologue to Cato ; as I find it in the Art of Speaking, page 86. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 147 Britons, attend! be worth like this approv'd, And show you have the virtue to be mov'd With honest scorn the first fam'd Cato view'd Rome learning arts from Greece, whom she subdu'd. Our scene precariourly subsists too long On French translation, and Italian song. Dare to have sense yourselves : assert the stage ; Be justly icarm'd with your own native rage. Such plays alone should please a British ear, As Cato's self had not disdaia'd to hear. This passage is in general pretty accurately mark- ed : but if we conceive the words in Roman letters to have exactly the same force as the unaccented sylla- bles of the others, we shall soon see that many signifi- cant words are thrown too much into the shade. I know it will be said that these significant words, though they have not the force of the marked words, are still to have a sufficient degree of force to express their meaning. But this is the very errour I am com- bating : this is the vague, indefinite rule that echoes through all our books of this kind : this is the old asylum of ignorance and idleness, the constant resource of those, who, for want of ideas, pay us with words. The truth is, we must necessarily give these words the same force as the other words, or only the force of unaccented syllables ; between these two forces there is no medium. The line is drawn by nature between accent and no accent ; and unless we studi- ously strive to do it, we cannot help striking the two forces in exact proportion to each other. If we pro- nounce the accented syllable stronger, the unaccented will be stronger likewise, and inversely. Those, therefore, who pronounce the accented syllable too feebly, will be too feeble in those that are unaccented ; but we need only make them enforce the former, and the latter will be infallibly rectified. 148 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. An examination of the propriety of marking the ivords in the foregoing passage. The word this, in the first line, is certainly entitled to as much force as worth and approved ; and show, m the next line, to as much as virtue and moved. Honest scorn, in the third line, is impassioned, and will admit of emphasis above the accented words, as it may, very agreeably to the sense, be supposed to have this antithesis : not merely with dislike, but with scorn. The word first, in the same line, may be said to be emphatical in the same manner, as it points out Cato the Censor, in opposition to Cato of Utica, the hero of the prologue. In the fifth, the words precariously subsists must necessarily have more force than so many unaccented syllables, and ought therefore to have been in Italics, as well as the words too long. The sixth line needs no comment ; every significant word is in opposition to another word, and is therefore emphatical. J3ut in the next line, the word yourselves, which is op- posed to others, not expressed (see pp. 143, 144, 145, &c.) and therefore highly emphatical ; this word, I say, is not distinguished from the word sense, or any other words that have common force, and is therefore eonfounded with them ; whereas this word ought to have as much more force than the accented words, as they have more than the unaccented. The next line affords us an errour of the same kind : the word na- tive is emphatical, as it is opposed to foreign, not ex- pressed, and therefore ought to have extraordinary force. The word rage, which is the elliptical word (see pp. 144, 145, 146, &c.) common both to foreign and native, ought no more to have the force of native, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 149 than if the antithesis had been expressed at length, in this manner : " Be justly warmed, not with foreign rage, but with your own native rage :" nor can we possibly pronounce rage with the same force as native without depriving native of its emphasis. Let it not be objected that rage is too significant a word to be sunk into an unaccented syllable of native ; for if native be pronounced with its proper force, rage, though un- accented, will be more forcible than an unaccented syllable of a merely accented word. The last line affords an opportunity of strengthening the former observations, by some which are very similar, and founded on the same reasons. The word self, in this line, is highly emphatical, as such an emphasis sug- gests this meaning : " Such plays alone should please a British ear, not only as a person of good sense and nice morals would approve, but such as even Cato himself would approve ;" for this meaning is not only agreeable to the sense of the author, but greatly en- forces and illustrates it. A new method of marking the different forces of words. From the analysis given in the last lesson of a pas- sage from Pope, we plainly perceive how delicate a thing it is to mark the emphatic words properly, and how easily we may be misled by the generality of books in use. Advocate, therefore, as I am for the occasional use of marks, I am far from recommending them on all occasions. Many things may be useful at certain times and on certain occasions, which, if used indis- criminately, would be incommodious and embarrassing. Dividing words of difficult pronunciation into syllables 150 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. may sometimes be useful, even to those who read well ; but dividing every word into syllables, would be so far from assisting such a reader, that it would be the sur- est way to embarrass and perplex him. Italics, there- fore, may be very usefully employed in printing to mark emphasis, where it is not obvious, or where the sense of a passage might be mistaken for want of know- ing it : but where the language is plain, and the mean- ing obvious, Italics are not only useless, but distressing to the reader. From the want of a clear idea of the nature of emphasis, and of the difference between ac- cented and unaccented force, those who mark books for pronunciation think they have never done enough, till they have put every single significant word into Italics. For as no distinction of force is settled between these words, and as every one is supposed to have a certain indefinite degree of force, the writer imagines he has done wonders in showing how much force a few words are susceptible of; and the reader, who is struck with the sight of so much force in so small a compass, has not the least doubt of the emphasis of every one of these words, if he did but know how to pronounce them : thus, by endeavouring to give every word an emphatic force, he deprives those words that are real- ly emphatical of the force which belongs to them, and distorts and adulterates the meaning by a quaint and unnatural pronunciation. But had we once a clear and distinct idea of em- phasis, did we consider how few words are so emphat- ical as to require a greater force than accented words, that every accented word has an equal degree of force, and that those that are not accented have exactly the force of unaccented syllables ; with these principles RHETORTCAI, GRAMMAR. 151 in view, I say, we might construct a notation, which, it is presumed, would convey a clearer idea of the sev- eral forces of speaking sounds, than any that has hith- erto been hit upon. Let us, for example, take the foregoing passage from Pope ; let us consider the less significant words as unaccented syllables of the others, and associate them together accordingly : and let us mark those words only, which have emphasis stronger than accent, with a different character : Britons, attend! beworth likethis approv'd, Andshow youhavethevirtue tobemov'd. Withhonest scorn the/irstfam'dCatoview'd Rome learningarts fromGreece, whomshesubdu'd. Ourscene precariously subsists too long OnFrench translation andltalian song. Dare tohavesenseyourse/res; assert thestage ; Bejustly warm'd withyourown nativevage. Suchplays alone shouldplease aBritishear, AsCato's self hadnot disdain'd tohear. But if writing words in this manner should be found troublesome, or appear too much to disguise them, we need only put a hyphen between the accented and un- accented words, and the same effect will be produced ; that is, the whole assemblage will seem but one word ; by which means we shall have an exact idea of the rel- ative force of each. Thus, the foregoing passage may be marked in the manner following : Britons, attend ! be-worth like-this approv'd, And-show you-have-the- virtue to-be-mov'd. With-honest scorn the-first-fam'd-Cato-view'd Rome learning-arts from-Greece, whom-she-subdu'd Our-scene precariously subsists too long On-French translation, and-Italian song, Dare to-have-sense-yourseZm; assert the-stage ~ Be-justly warm'd with-your-own native-rage, Such-plays alone should-please a- British-ear , As-Cato's seZ/had-not disdain'd to-hear. 152 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, Let it not be imagined that this mode of printing is proposed as a model in all cases for teaching to read : no ; such unusual combinations might, instead of improving some pupils, perplex and retard them ; but there are others, to whom this association may be highly useful in giving them a clear and distinct idea of the three kinds of force, of which all composi- tion is susceptible ; and this, it is presumed, is better performed by this than by any method hitherto made known to us. Another method of marking the different forces of words. From the method of marking the words we have just proposed, it is impossible not to have taken no- tice of a circumstance which arises from it, and which, if properly attended to, will set the utility of this method in a still stronger light ; and that is, the classifi- cation that necessarily follows the uniting of unaccent- ed words to those that are accented, as if they were syllables of them : this classification naturally divides a sentence into just so many portions as there are ac- cents. Thus, in the sentence before quoted, Prosperity | gains friends, j and adversity | tries them, tbere are four portions, and these portions to an ear unacquainted with the language would seem to be ex- actly so many words. Here then is a new principle of dividing sentences independent on the pauses, and which cannot fail to convey to us a clear idea of pro- nunciation. It has been before observed, that the emphasis which requires more force than the accented words but seldom occurs, and that when it does occur, the sense of the passage depends much more on the RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 153 inflection we give to the emphatic word, than on the force, we pronounce it with. To these observations it may be added, that, when there is no uncommon em- phasis in a sentence, we may often pronounce it with more or fewer accents, without materially affecting the sense. Thus, in the following sentence, Pitch upon that course of life which is the most excellent, and custom will make it the most delightful — Spect. No. 447; the two words, excellent and delightful, are con- trasted with each other, and therefore may be said to be emphatical ; but the emphasis on these words, it is evident, requires no more force, than several others in the sentence. Now this sentence, without any injury to the sense of it, may be pronounced only in four portions ; the four words, that, excellent, custom, and delightful, having accented force, and the rest unac- cented ; as if written in the following manner : Pitchuponthatcourseoflife | whichisthemostexcellent, | andcustom j will makeitthemostdelightful. Or it may be pronounced in ten portions, with no oth- er alteration in the sense than to render it upon the whole more sententious and emphatical, thus, Pitch | uponthat | cdurse | of life | whichisthemost | excellent, | andcus- tom | willmakeit | them6st | delightful ; where we see the sole difference between the for- mer and latter pronunciation of this passage lies in giving accented force to four words in the one, and to ten in the other. It must not be imagined that these divisions always indicate pauses: no; this distinction into portions is the separation of a sentence into its accentual impul- ses, and these impulses, though no pause intervenes, are as much distinguished by the ear, as the portions sep- arated by a pause. .Thus the ear perceives as great 154 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. a difference between the first manner of pronounc- ing the words most, where they sound like unaccent- ed syllables of the words excellent and delightful, and the last, where they have an independent accent, as it would do to have a pause inserted or omitted in any other part of the sentence. This classification of words seems pregnant with instruction : by applying it to sentences of difficult pronunciation, we give the pupil a distinct idea of the different forces of words, and by these means con- vey to him that idea of them which we think the best. Let us suppose we wanted to instruct a pupil in the true emphatic force of a passage in Pope's Essay on Man, where the poet is inquiring after happiness. Plant | of celestial | seed, | if dropp'd | beI6w, Say | in what mortal | soil | thou design'st [ to grdw ? Fair op'ning | to some court's propitious shine, Or deep j with diamonds | in the flaming | mine ? Twin'd | with the wreaths | Parnassian laurels yield, Or reap'd | in iron | harvests | of the field I- Fix'd to nd spot | is happiness | sincere, "lis nowhere to be found, | or everywhere. If we wished to explain our sense of the manner in which this passage ought to be read, could we possi- bly take a better method than this of dividing it into such portions as are each of them pronounced like single words ? In this mode of marking the lines, each word has its degree of force settled by the easi- est method in the world, that of accented or unaccent- ed syllables ; and if to these accents are added the slide or inflection, with which every accent is neces- sarily pronounced, we have a notation of speaking sounds that gives us as infallibly the leading notes of speech, as the notes of music convey to us the tune of a song ; the graces and beauties of singing and speaking RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 155 must be conveyed by the living voice to the ear, but this does not preclude in either the utility of marks to the eye. But though I would by no means recommend this association of words as a common lesson for youth, I am well persuaded that, on some occasions, it may be very useful to explain the pronunciation of some diffi- cult passages by it. A youth will have a much clear- er idea of the force he is to give to the subordinate words of a sentence, by considering them as syllables of the other words, than by any other explanation we can make use of; and in order to impress this idea, it may not be improper to write or mark phrases, with the words thus associated. Utility of understanding the different Slides, and differ- ent Forces of Words. In the same manner I would recommend the use of accents, to mark the different slides of the voice. Where the language is smooth, and the meaning clear, any kind of marks would do more hurt than good ; but where the language is uncouth, and the meaning ob- scure, nothing can be more certain than the usefulness of some marks to direct the voice in the pronunciation. Let us illustrate this by some passages from Dr. Young. Speaking of the folly of those who delay an amend- ment of their lives, he says, How excellent that life they ne'er will lead • Time lodg'd in their own hands is folly's vales; That lodg'd in fate's, to wisdom they consign : The things they can't but purpose they postpone. This passage will lose much of its clearness, and all its beauty, if the word fate's, in the third line, is not pronounced with the falling inflection : this inflection 15 ^ RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. will strongly mark the folly of consigning to wisdom, or using wisely, what is not in their own hands, but in the hands of fate. The two following lines in this passage afford an- other opportunity of showing how important to the sense is a particular inflection on a particular word. 'Tis not in folly not to scorn a fool ; And scarce in human wisdom to do more. If we do not give folly the emphasis with the falling inflection, the thought will be scarcely intelligible. The same may be observed of the word themselves in the second line of the following passage : All men think all men mortal but themselves ; Themselves, when some alarming shock of fate Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread. The following passage will afford an instance of the necessity of adopting the other inflection on a partic- ular word, in order to elucidate and ^x the meaning. The poet, speaking of the original grandeur of the passions, says, W T hat though our passions are run mad, and stoop With low terrestrial appetite, to graze On trash, on toys, dethron'd from high desire ; Yet still through their disgrace, no feeble ray Of greatness shines, and tells us whence they fell. If we do not give the word feeble the emphasis with the rising inflection we shall be led to suppose that not even a feeble ray of greatness shines : a sense directly contrary to the scope of the author. Milton,* who, from his fondness for the ancients, fre- quently departs widely from the idiom of his own language, affords us frequent instances of the necessi- ty of attending nicely to the inflection of voice with which we read, in order to preserve his meaning. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 157 Thus, where he is describing the fallen angels as sen- sible of the misery of their state, while they are gath- ering round their leader, he says, Nor did they not perceive the evil plight In which they were, or the fierce pains n6t feel. The words not in this passage must necessarily have the emphasis with the rising inflection, as this specific emphasis is the only way of rendering the sense of the passage intelligible. As a further proof of the necessity of distinguish- ing emphasis into two kinds, and of having a distinct and different mark for each, we need only attend to the pronunciation of the following passage from the same author, where he describes Satan's surprise at the sight and approach of the figure of death. Satan Avas now at hand, and from his seat The monster moving, onward came as fast With horrid strides ; Hell trembled as he strode. Th' undaunted fiend what this might be admir'd ; Admir'd, not fear'd : God ; and his Son except, Created thing nought valu'd he nor shunn'd ; And, with disdainful look, thus first began. Par. Lost. b. ii. v. 674. There are few readers, who, in pronouncing this passage, would not give admir'd, in the fifth line, the rising slide, and fear'd the falling; but nothing can be more evident than that this does not bring out the sense of the passage with half the force of a contrary position of the slides. The falling slide on admir'd, and the rising on fear'd, is agreeable to the general rule the ear always follows, in pronouncing positive and negative members, when it is unembarrassed by the intricacies of poetic language. Thus we see it is of little consequence to tell us a word is emphatical^ unless the kind of emphasis is specified, and when 158 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR'. this is done we find the sense of a passage is deter- mined. I shall conclude these observations, on the utility of marks, by showing the very different sense of a sen- tence according to the different force and inflection which is given to its several parts. When we take our leave of a person, we sometimes make use of the following sentence : I wish you all the happiness this world can afford. If we lay an equal stress upon the words wish, all, happiness, this, world, and afford, and pronounce the rest like unaccented syllables of these, we shall find a sense implying that this world can afford great hap- piness ; but if we lay an emphasis with the falling in- flection on all, and one with the rising on this, and pronounce the rest of the words like unaccented sylla- bles of these, as if they were written in the following manner : IwishyouaZ/thehappiness | Misworldcanafford : Or thus, I-wish-you-dZMhe-happiness | Mzs-world-can-afFord* In this case, I say, we shall find a very different sense produced ; for it will strongly intimate that this world has very little happiness to afford. If these observations are just, we may perceive what great advantages we might reasonably expect from such a knowledge of the voice as would enable us to comprehend and practise the distinction of force, and the two- fold distinction of inflections here laid down. We should then have a language in which we might converse intelligibly on different modes of pro- * In the first method of pronouncing this sentence, it seems to the ear to contain as many words as there are accents ; viz. six. In the last, the sen- tence seems to consist only of two very long words, because there are in re^ ality no more than two accents in it. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 159 nunciation : we could tell the reader plainly and sim- ply, that such words require one species of force and inflection, and such words another, without having re- course to such vague and indeterminate directions as saying, that " he must pronounce some words with emphasis, but not so as to deprive others of a certain degree of it." Whoever is curious to see the obscu- rity which a want of these distinctions occasions, may consult some of our best writers on this subject, where they dispute with each other about the pronunciation of certain passages. Here he may see how men may wrangle without end, and each seem to have the vic- tory, when they neither understand each other, nor even themselves, for want of precise and definite terms. RULES FOR READING VERSE. On the Slides or Inflections of Verse, The first general rule for reading verse is, that we ought to give it that measured harmonious flow of sound which distinguishes it from prose, without fal- ling into a bombastic, chanting pronunciation, which makes it ridiculous. This medium, like all others where excellence resides, is not very easy to hit ; and here, as in similar cases, the worst extreme must be avoided. For this purpose, it will not be improper^ before we read verse with its poetical graces, to pro- nounce it exactly as if it were prose : this will be de- priving verse of its beauty, but will tend to preserve it from deformity : the tones of voice will be frequent- ly different, but the inflections will be nearly the same. But though an elegant and harmonious pronuncia- tion of verse will sometimes oblige us to adopt differ- 160 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. ent inflections from those we use in prose, it may still be laid down as a good general rule, that verse re- quires the same inflections as prose, though less strong- ly marked, and more approaching to monotones. If, therefore, we are at a loss for the true inflection of voice on any word in poetry, let us reduce it to ear- nest conversation, and pronounce it in the most famil- iar and prosaic manner, and we shall, for the most part, fall into those very inflections we ought to adopt in repeating verse. This observation naturally leads us to a rule, which may be justly looked upon as the fundamental princi- ple of all poetic pronunciation ; which is, that wherev- er a sentence, or member of a sentence, would neces- sarily require the falling inflection in prose, it ought always to have the same inflection in poetry ; for though, if we were to read verse prosaically, we should often place the falling inflection where the style of verse would require the rising, yet in those parts where a portion of perfect sense, or the conclusion of a sentence, necessarily requires the falling inflection, the same inflection must be adopted both in verse and prose. Thus in Milton's description of the deluge, in Paradise Lost : Meanwhile the south-wind rose, and, with black wings Wide hov'ring, all the clouds together drove From under heaven : the hills, to their supply. Vapour and exhalation dusk and moist Sent up amain : and now the thicken'd sky- Like a dark ceiling stood ; down rush'd the rain Impetuous, and continued till the earth No more was seen ; the floating vessel swam Uplifted, and secure with beaked prow Rode tilting o'er the waves. Paradise Lost, b. xi. v. 738. In this passage, every member forming perfect RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 161 sense, if read as so many lines of prose, would end with the falling slide, and this is the slide they ought to end with in verse. The member, indeed, which ends with impetuous, ought to have the rising slide ; because, though it forms perfect sense, it is followed by a member which does not form sense by itself, and for this reason would necessarily adopt the rising slide, if it were prose. In the same manner, though we frequently suspend the voice by the rising inflection in verse, where, if the composition were prose, we should adopt the fal- ling, yet, wherever in prose the member or sentence would necessarily require the rising inflection, this inflection must necessarily be adopted in verse. An instance of all these cases may be found in the follow- ing example from Pope : He, who through vast immensity can pierce^ See worlds on worlds compose one univ r erse ; Observe how system into system runs, What other planets circle other suns ; What varied being peoples ev'ry star ; May tell why heaven has made us as we are. But of this frame, the bearings, and the ties, The strong connexions, nice dependencies, Gradations just, has thy pervading soul Look'd through ? or can a part contain the whole ? Is the great chain, that draws all to agree, And drawn supports, upheld by God, or thee ? Pope's Essay on Man. If this passage were prose, every line but the fifth might end with the falling inflection ; but the fifth being that where the two principal constructive parts unite, and the sense begins to form, here, both in prose and verse, must be the principal pause, and the rising inflection. The two questions with which the ninth and tenth lines end ought to have the rising in- 21 162 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. flection also, as this is the. inflection they would ne- cessarily have in prose ; though from injudiciously printing the last couplet, so as to form a fresh para- graph, the word whole is generally pronounced with the falling inflection, in order to avoid the bad effect of a question with the rising inflection at the end of a paragraph ; which would be effectually prevented by uniting the last couplet to the rest, so as to form one whole portion, and which was undoubtedly the inten- tion of the poet. Having premised these observations, I shall endeav- our to throw together a few rules for the reading of verse, which, by descending to particulars, it is hop- ed will be more useful than those very general ones, which are commonly to be met with on this subject, and which, though very ingenious, seem calculated rather for the making of verses^ than the reading of them. Of the accent and emphasis of verse. Rule I. In verse, every syllable must have the same accent, and every word the same emphasis, as in prose ; for though the rhythmical arrangement of the accent and emphasis is the very definition of poe- try, yet, if this arrangement tends to give an empha- sis to words which would have none in prose, or an accent to such syllables as have properly no accent, the rhythmus, or music of the verse, must be entirely neglected. Thus the article the ought never to have a stress, though placed in that part of the verse where the ear expects an accent. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 163 EXAMPLE. Ot all the causes which conspire to blind Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind, What the weak head with strongest bias rules, Is pride, the never failing vice of fools. Pope. An injudicious reader of verse would be very apt to lay a stress upon the article the in the third line, but a good reader would neglect the stress on this, and transfer it to the words what and weak. Thus also, in the following example, no stress must be laid on the word of, because we should not give it any in prosaic pronunciation. _. Ask of thy mother earth why oaks are made Taller and stronger than the weeds they shade. Pope. For the same reason the word as, either in the first or second line of the following couplet, ought to have no stress. Eye nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, And catch the manners living as they rise. Pope. The last syllable of the word excellent, in the follow- ing couplet, being the place of the stress, is very apt to draw the reader to a wrong pronunciation of the word, in compliance with the rhythmus of the verse. Their praise is still, the style is excellent: The sense they humbly take upon content. Pope. But a stress upon the last syllable of this word must be avoided, as the most childish and ridiculous pro- nunciation in the world. The same may be observed of the word eloquence and the particle the in the fol- lowing couplet : False eloquence, like the prismatic glass^ Its gaudy colours spreads on ev'ry place. Pope. If in compliance with the rhythmus, or tune of the verse, we lay a stress on the last syllable of eloquence, and on the particle the in the first of these verses, to 164 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. a good judge of reading scarcely any thing can be conceived more disgusting. When the poetical accent is to be preserved, and when not. Rule II. One of the most puzzling varieties in reading verse is that which is occasioned by the po- et's placing a word in such a part of the line as is quite inconsistent with the metre of the verse. It is one of the most general rules in reading, that every word is to have the same accent in verse that it has in prose. This rule, however, admits of some few ex- ceptions. Many of our good poets have sometimes placed words so unfavourably for pronunciation in the common way, that the ear would be less disgusted with an alteration of the common accent for the sake of harmony, than with a preservation of this accent with harshness and discord ; for, in some cases, by preserving the common accent, we not only reduce the lines to prose, but to very harsh and disagreeable prose. Thus we cannot hesitate a moment at placing the accent on the first syllable of expert in the follow- ing line of Pope, though contrary to its prosaic pro- nunciation : Then fell Scamandrius, expert in the chace. But it will be demanded, is the ear the only rule when we are to pronounce one way and when another ? It may be answered ; this is the best rule for those who have good ears ; but like most of the rules given on this subject, it amounts to no rule at all. To offer something like a rule therefore, where there is none, will not be unacceptable to those at least who have not ears sufficiently delicate to direct themselves, and RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 165 those who have will not be displeased to find a rea- son given for such a choice of accent as they approve. And first, let us try the different effects which these disjointed and inharmoniously accented words have on the ear, (for unquestionably they are not all equally disagreeable,) and that perhaps may lead us to some- thing like a rule for directing us when we are to com- ply with the poetical accent, and when not. In the first place, let us bring together words of two syllables, with the accent on the first, which the poet has transferred to the last. Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy — P. L. i. 123. In their triple degrees, regions to which — Ibid. si. 140. Which of us who beholds the bright surface Ibid. vi. 472. Of thrones and mighty seraphim prostrate. Ibid. 841. Male he created thee ; but thy consort, — Ibid. vii. 529. Not to incur; but soon his clear aspect. Ibid. 336. Beyond all past example and future. Ibid. 840. " To do aught good never will be our task. Ibid. i. 159„ Moors by his side under the lee, while night — Ibid. 207. Abject and lost lay these covering the flood. Ibid. 312. Gods, yet confess'd later than heav'n and earth. Ibid. 509. These other two equalVd with me in fate. Ibid. iii. 33. And flow'rs aloft shading the fount of life. Ibid. 357. Second to thee offe'r'd himself to die. Ibid. 409. Which tasted, works knowledge of good and evil. Ibid. vii. 543. To whom, with healing words, Adam, replied. Ibid. ix. 290. Grateful to heav'n ; ov6r his head behold. Ibid. 864. Preserving the poetical accent on many of these words would be merely turning them into ridicule, and there- fore, every reader who has the least delicacy of feel- ing will certainly preserve the common accent of these words on the first syllable, and let the metre of the line shift for itself. In the next place, let us adduce such words of two syllables as have a contrary transposition of accent, 166 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. that is, such as have the common accent on the last syllable, which the poet removes to the first. Next Chemos, th' obscene dread of Moab's sons. P. L. i. 123. And sat as princes, whom the supreme king. Ibid. 735. Encamp their legions, or with dbscure wing. Ibid. ii. 132. Our supreme foe in time may much relent. Ibid. 210. Of mankind in one root, and earth with hell. Ibid. i. 313. In confined march, forlorn, th' advent'rous bands. Ibid. 615. Forth rush the Uvant and the ponent winds. Ibid. x. 704. In placing the accent on the first syllable instead of the second on these words, as the poet has done, we find no such harshness to the ear as in the former ex- amples, and I think we may therefore conclude that something like a rule is discovered respecting words of two syllables. The management of the misaccented words of three syllables is not perhaps so easy. After trying every possible way to reconcile the accent and the metre, I have not been able to conceive a better method than that of compromising the demands of each. Perhaps the least offensive method to the ear of preserving the accent, and not entirely violating the quantity, would be to place an accent on the syllable immedi- ately preceding that on which the poet has misplaced it, without dropping that which is so misplaced ; by this means the word will be heard with the true ac- cent, which will in some measure abate the impropri- ety of the false one : and thus, by the succession of two accents, we shall only seem to be enforcing the sense, while we are really hiding the fault of the meas- ure. Thus the word blasphemous may be accented both on the first and second syllable : RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 167 argument blasphemous, false, and proud ! P. L. v. 809. Refrain 'd his tongue blasphemous; but anon — Ibid. vi. 360. Here the ear feels no great impropriety, especially as this word is still accented by many speakers (though of the lower order) on the second syllable. But the words odorous, infinite, and voluble, accented by Mil- ton on the second syllable, must be nicely managed in order to prevent a cacophony. Spirits odorous breathes ; flow'rs, and their fruit — P. L. v. 482. Hoarse murmur echo'd to his words applause, Through the infinite host. Ibid. 874. Whether the prime orb, Incredible how swift, had thither roll'd Diurnal ; or this less voluble earth, By shorter flights to th' east, had left him there. Ibid. The same rule seems to hold good where the poet has placed the accent on the first and last syllable of a word which ought to have it on the middle syllable. -and as is due W T ith glory attributed to the high Creator ? P. L. viii. 12. Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute Each orb a glimpse of light. Ibid. 155. Shoots invisible virtue, e'en to the deep. Ibid. iii. 586. If any thing can render the pronunciation of this ve- ry unpoetic line tolerable, it must be placing the ac- cent on the first and third syllable of invisible. After all the attention that can possibly be paid to many of these rugged lines, rugged they will still remain ; and when the reader has done his best to make them as smooth as possible, the author is justly chargeable with the want of poetic harmony. Dr. Watts, who to learning and judgment united a poetical ear, di- rects us, in his rules for reading verse, so to favour 1^8 RHETORICAL GRAMMAK. the rhyme as to pronounce the word liberty, either as libertee or libertie, just as it rhymes with the end of the former line, Thus, " Were I but once from bondage free, I'd never sell my liberty. " Here," he says, " I must pronounce the word lib- erty, as if it were written with a double ee, libertee, to rhyme with the word free. But if the verse ran thus, " My soul ascends above the sky, And triumphs in her liberty. The word liberty must be sounded as ending in i, that sky may have a juster rhyme to it." But as this compliance with the rhyme is now justly exploded, such verses as these ought never to appear in any modern poetry. The ear of a foreigner (which, as Mr. Addison observes, is perhaps the best judge in this case) is shocked beyond measure at such verses ; and natives only bear them because they are accus- tomed to them. How strangely do two lines that rhyme appear in blank verse where we do not ex- pect them ? and can such lines as have no agreement in sound, appear less strange when a rhyme is ex- pected ? Certainly not. But as judicious readers of the present day would rather the verse should appear strange by not rhyming, than strange by altering the accent or sound of a word, so, in a choice of evils, the less seems to be that of preserving as much as possi- ble the proper accent in blank verse, and making the poet answerable for the rest : but, as we have observ- ed above, if there are cases in which the poet may be favoured without departing too widely from general usage, it is incumbent on the reader to pronounce his author to the best advantage, not only by heightening RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 169 his beauties, but, as much as possible, by hiding his faults. I am indebted to the Rev. Mr. Robertson, in his ele- gant Essay on the Nature of English Verse, for many of the examples I have made use of, as well as for many judicious observations on them ; and have much to regret, that a gentleman of his real learning and good taste did not carry his observations farther. Rule III. How the vowels e and o are to be pronounc- ed, when apostrophised. The vowel e, which, in poetry, is so often cut off by an apostrophe in the word the, and in unaccented syllables before r, as dangerous, generous, &c. ought always to be preserved in pronunciation, because the syllable it forms is so short as to admit of being sound- ed with the succeeding syllable, so as not to increase the number of syllables to the ear, or at all to hurt the melody. 'Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill Appear in writing, or in judging ill : But of the two, less dang'rous is th' offence To tire our patience, than mislead our sense. Pope. —Him the Almighty Power Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky, With hideous ruin and combustion down To bottomless perdition, there to dwell In adamantine chains and penal fire, Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms. Milton, In these examples, we see the particle the may either form a distinct syllable or not. In the third line from Pope, the first the forms a distinct syllable, but the second is sunk into the succeeding noun. The same may be observed of this particle in the passages from Milton. The same observations in every res- 22 170 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. pect, hold good in the pronunciation of the preposi- tion to, which ought always to be sounded long, like the adjective two, however it may be printed, wheth- er as we see it in Pope's Essay on Man, Say what the use were finer optics given, T' inspect a mite, not comprehend the heaven : Or in Milton, either abbreviated as in durst oppose A third part of the gods in synod met Their deities t' assert : who, while they feel Vigour divine within them, can allow Omnipotence to none. Par. Lost, b. vi. V. 155. Or at length, as in the following passage, Yet still they knew, and ought to have still remember'd The high injunction not to taste that fruit Whoever tempted — '■ Having premised these observations on words, we shall next proceed to sentences ; as words arranged into sentences may be properly called the subject matter of the art of reading. Of the pause or caesura of verse. Rule IV. Almost every verse admits of a pause in or near the middle of the line, which is called the caesura ; this must be carefully observed in reading verse, or much of the distinctness, and almost all the harmony, will be lost. EXAMPLE. Nature to all things fix'd the limits fit, And wisely curb'd proud man's pretending wit : As on the land while here the ocean gains, In other parts it leaves wide sandy plains ; Thus in the soul, while memory prevails, The solid pow'r of understanding fails ; Where beams of warm imagination play, The memory's soft figures melt away. Pops. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 171 These lines have seldom any points inserted in the middle, even by the most scrupulous punctuists ; and yet nothing can be more palpable to the ear, than that a pause in the first at things, in the second at curbed, in the third at land, in the fourth at parts, in the fifth at soul, is absolutely necessary to the harmony of those lines : and that the sixth, by admitting no pause but at understanding, and the seventh, none but at imag- ination, border very nearly upon prose. The reason why these lines will not admit of a pause any where but at these words will be evident to those who have perused the former part of this work on the division of a sentence ; and if the reader would see one of the most curious pieces of analysis on this subject in any language, let him peruse the chapter on versification, in Lord Karnes's Elements of Criticism ; where he will see the subject of pausing, as it relates to verse, discussed in the deepest, clearest, and most satisfacto- ry manner. It will be only necessary to observe in this place, that though the most harmonious place for the capital pause is after the fourth syllable, it may, for the sake of expressing the sense strongly and suitably, and even sometimes for the sake of variety, be placed at several other intervals. EXAMPLES. 'Tis hard to say — if greater want of skill. So when an angel — by divine command, With rising tempests — shakes a guilty land. Then from his closing eyes — thy form shall part, And the last pang — shall tear thee from his heart. Inspir'd repuls'd battalions — to engage, And taught the doubtful battle — where to rage. Know then thyself — presume not God to scan; The proper study of mankind — is man. 172 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Of the cadence of verse. Rule V. In order to form a cadence in a period in rhyming verse, we must adopt the falling inflection with considerable force in the caesura of the last line hut one. EXAMPLE. One science only will one genius fit, So vast is art, so narrow human wit ; Not only bounded to peculiar arts, But oft in those confin'd to single parts ; Like kings, we lose the conquests gain'd before By vain ambition, still to make them more ) Each might his sev'ral province — well command Would all but stoop to what they understand. Pope. In repeating these lines, we shall find it necesary to form the cadence, by giving the falling inflection with a little more force than common to the word province. The same may be observed of the word prospect in the last line of the following passage : So pleas'd at first the tow'ring Alps we try, Mount o'er the vales, and seem to tread the sky ; Th' eternal snows appear already past, And the first clouds and mountains seem the last : But those attain'd, we tremble to survey The growing labours of the lengthen'd way ; Th' increasing prospect — tires our Avand'ring eyes, Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise. How to pronounce a simile in poetry. Rule VI. A simile in poetry ought always to be read in a lower tone of voice than that part of the passage which precedes it. 'Twas then great Marlb'rough's mighty soul was prov'd, That in the shock of charging hosts unmov'd, Amidst confusion, horror, and despair, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 173 Examin'd all the dreadful scenes of war; In peaceful thought the field of death suryey'd, To fainting squadrons sent the timely aid ; Inspir'd repuls'd battalions to engage, And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. So when an angel, by divine command, With rising tempests shakes a guilty land, (Such as of late o'er pale Britannia past) Calm and serene he drives the furious blast ; And pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform, Rides on the whirlwind, and directs the storm. Addison. This rule is one of the greatest embellishments of po- etic pronunciation, and is to be observed no less in blank verse than in rhyme. Milton's beautiful descrip- tion of the sports of the fallen angels affords us a good opportunity of exemplifying it. Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form, As when, to warn proud cities, war appears Wag'd in the troubled sky, and armies rush To battle in the clouds, before each van Prick forth the aery knigths, and couch their spear?. Till thickest legions close ; with feats of arms From either end of heav'n the welkin burns. Others with vast Typhcean rage more fell Rend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air In whirlwind : Hell scarce holds the wild uproar. As when Alcides, from CEchalia crown 'd With conquests, felt th' envenom'd robe ; and tore, Through pain, up by the roots Thessalian pines, And Lichas from the top of OZta threw Into th' Euboic sea. Par. Lost. b. ii. 531. In reading this passage, the voice must drop into a monotone at the commencement of each simile : as it proceeds, the voice gradually slides out of the mono- tone, to avoid too great a sameness ; but the monotone itself, being so essentially different from the preceding style of pronunciation, becomes one of the greatest sources of variety. 174 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Rule VII. Where there is no pause in the sense at the end of a verse, the last word must have exactly the same inflection it would have in prose. Of that visionary pause at the end of every line in verse, cal- led by some writers the pause of suspension, see a full confutation in Elements of Elocution, p. 277. Over their heads a crystal firmament, Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure Amber, and colours of the flow'ry arch. Milton. In this example the word pure must have the falling inflection, whether we make any pause at it or not, as this is the inflection the word would have if the sen- tence were pronounced prosaically. For the same reason the words retired and went, in the following example, must be pronounced with the rising inflec- tion. At his command th' uprooted hills retir'd Each to his place ; they heard his voice, and went Obsequious ; Heav'n his wonted face renew'd, And with fresh flow'rets hills and valleys smil'd. Milton, Rule VIII. Sublime, grand, and magnificent de- scription in poetry requires a lower tone of voice, and a sameness nearly approaching to a monotone. This rule will surprise many, who have always been taught to look upon a monotone, or sameness of voice, as a deformity in reading. A deformity it cer- tainly is, when it arises either from a want of power to alter the voice, or a want of judgment to introduce it properly ; but I presume it may be with confidence affirmed, that when it is introduced with propriety, it is one of the greatest embellishments of poetic pro- nunciation. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 175 EXAMPLE. And if each system in gradation roll, Alike essential to th' amazing whole, The least confusion but in one, not all That system only, but the whole must fall. Let earth unbalanc'd from her orbit fly, Planets and suns run lawless through the sky ; Let ruling angels from their spheres be hurl'd, Being on being wreck'd, and world on world, Heav'ns whole foundations to their centre nod, And Nature tremble to the throne of God : All this dread order break ! — for whom ? for thee ? Vile worm ! — oh madness ! pride ! impiety ! Pope. The series of grand images which commences at the fifth line fills the mind with surprise approaching to astonishment. As this passion has a tendency to fix the body, and deprive it of motion, so it is best ex- pressed in speaking by a deep and almost uniform tone of voice : the tone indeed may have a small slide upwards at sky, world, and God, but the words fly, hurPd, and nod, require exactly the same monotonous sound, with which the rest of the line must be pro- nounced. What has been just observed in the last lesson leads us to another rule in reading verse, which, though subject to exceptions, is sufficiently general to be of considerable use. Rule IX. When the first line of a couplet does not form perfect sense, it is necessary to suspend the voice at the end of the line with the rising slide. Far as creation's ample range extends, The scale of sensual, mental pow'rs ascends. Mark how it mounts to man's imperial race, From the green myriads in the peopled grass. Pope. This rule holds good even where the first line forms I76r RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. perfect sense by itself, and is followed by another forming perfect sense likewise, provided the first line does not end with an emphatic word which requires the falling slide. EXAMPLE. Self-love, the spring of motion, acts the soul ; Reason's comparing balance rules the whole. All Nature is but art unknown to thee, All chance, direction which thou canst not see : All discord, harmony not understood, All partial evil, universal good : And spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right. Pope. In all these couplets, except the last, the first line forms perfect sense by itself, but the variety and har- mony of the verse require they should be all equally read with the rising slide on the last word. But if the first line ends with an emphatical word, requiring the falling slide, this slide must be giyen to it, but in a higher tone of voice than the same slide in the last line of the couplet. EXAMPLE. Vice is a monster of so frightful mem, As to be hated needs but to be seen ; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace. But where th' extreme of vice was ne'er agreed ; Ask where's the north, at York 'tis on the Tweed '■ No creature owns it in the first degree, But thinks his neighbour further gone than he. E'en those who dwell beneath its very zone> Or never feel the rage, or never own : What happier natives shrink at with affright The hard inhabitant contends is right. Pope. In the first line of the last couplet but one, the word zone is emphatical, and requires the falling slide; but this slide must not be in so low a tone as it is in the last word of the next line. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 177 But when the first line of a couplet does not form sense, and the second line, either from its not forming sense, or from its being a question, requires the ris- ing slide ; in this case, the first line must end with such a pause as the sense requires, but without any alteration in the tone of voice. EXAMPLE. When the proud steed shall know why man restrains His fiery course or drives him o'er the plains ; When the dull ox, why now he breaks the clod, Is now a victim, and now Egypt's god : Then shall man's pride and dulness comprehend His actions', passions', being's use and end : Why doing, suffering, check'd, impell'd, — and why This hour a slave, the next a deity. In this passage the words restrains and clod ought to have no inflection, and plains and god the rising. In the same manner, if a question requires the sec- ond line of the couplet to adopt the rising slide, the first ought to have a pause at the end, but the voice, without any alteration, ought to carry on the same tone to the second line, and to continue this tone al- most to the end. EXAMPLE. Shall burning iEtna, if a sage requires, Forget to thunder, and recall her fires ? On air or sea new notions be impress'd, O blameless Bethel, to relieve thy breast ? When the loose mountain trembles from on high. Shall gravitation cease, while you go by ? Or some old temple, nodding to its fall, For Chartres' head reserve the hanging wall ? In this passage the three first couplets are questions requiring the rising slide at the end, and must there- fore have the first lines end with a sameness of voice, which sameness must begin each succeeding line, and 23 178 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. continue till it approaches the end, which adopts the rising inflection. The last couplet is of exactly the same form as the rest ; but, as it ends a paragraph, it must, both for the sake of variety and harmony, have its first line end with the rising, and its last with the falling slide. The same principles of harmony and variety induce us to read a triplet with a sameness of voice, or a monotone, on the end of the first line, the rising slide on the end of the second, and the falling on the last. Waller was smooth but Dryden taught to join ) The varying verse, the full resounding line, > The long majestic march, and energy divine. ) This rule, however, from the various sense of the triplet, is liable to many exceptions. But, with very few exceptions, it may be laid down as a rule, that a quatrain, or stanza of four lines of alternate verse, may be read with a monotone ending the first line, the rising slide ending the second and third, and the falling the last. EXAMPLE. Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear ; Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Gray's Elegy. On blank verse. The structure and punctuation of blank verse are vast sources of errour and perplexity to young read- ers. Writers of blank verse affect to end the line without any pause, or with as small a pause as possi- ble ; and readers are too apt, where they see no pause at the end of the line, to run the lines together with- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 179 out attending to such pauses as they would make in prose, for fear we should suppose they do not know how to read blank verse : this makes them frequently pronounce the words at the end of one line and the beginning of the next much more swiftly than any oth- er part of the verse, to the utter ruin of the harmony : for all verse requires a stated regular march of the syllables, and it is in this march the grandeur and beauty of the verse consists. In reading blank verse, therefore, care must be taken to steer between the one extreme of ending every line with a pause ; and the other, of running one line into another more rap- idly than if they were prose. With respect to the pause of suspension at the end of every line in blank verse, which some writers in- sist upon as necessary to the harmony, see Elements of Elocution, p. 277, where the subject is fully dis- cussed. AN EXPLANATION OF THE FIGURES OF RHETORIC, WITH DIRECTIONS FOR THE PROPER MANNER OF PRONOUNCING THEM. Hitherto sentences have been considered only with regard to their external form, and their plain and obvious meaning. We have seen them in all their variety of simple and compound ; have observ- ed them in every diversity of structure ; and have examined at large, and with some degree of attention, the connexion that subsists between their several parts, so as to determine the precise meaning and import of the whole. Thus far, however, sentences 180 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. may be considered as pertaining to grammar only.* There is another view in which we may contemplate them, which may be called rhetorical; and that is, not only when the sentence has a simple and definite meaning, but whim this meaning is cast into a peculiar form, and therefore called a figure : and it is to this latter meaning, that is, to the figurative sense of words, that language owes its peculiar force and beauty. These figures may be divided into two kinds ; namely, into such as are common to every species of composition, and into such as belong more particular- ly to oratory. The former of these, such as meta- phors, allegories, &c. have no reference to delive- ry, and may be considered as perfect, whether they are spoken or not : the latter, such as irony, aposi- opesis, climax, &c. suppose a pronunciation suitable to each, and without which they have not half their beauty; the first of these figures we may, for the sake of distinction, call rhetorical, and the last orator- ical. But, as many of the figures of each of these kinds are nearly allied to both, it may not be improp- er to give a summary account of both, that each of them may be better understood. I shall not enter into a minute discussion of the dif- ference between a trope and a figure, but shall content myself with following the accurate and philosophical Du Marsais on this subject, who considers the former * Les grammariens et rheteurs ayant fait des observations sur les differen- tes nianieres de parler, ils ont faites des classes particuliers de ces ditferen- tes manieres, afin de mettre plus d'ordi-e et d'arrangement dans leurs reflex- ions. Les manieres de parler dans lesquelles ils n'ont remarque d'autre propriete que celle de faire connoitre ce qu'on pense, sont appellees simple- ment phrases, expressions, periodes ; mais celles qui expriment non seulement des pensees mais encore des pensees enoncees d'une maniere particuliere, qui lui donne un caractere propre, celles-la dis-je sont appellees figures, parce qu'elles poroissent, pour ainsi dire, sous une forme particuliere, et avec ce caractere, propre, qui les distingue les unes des autres et de tout ce tui n ; est que phrase ou expression. Du Marsais des Tropes, p. 9. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 181 as a species of the latter, and defines a figure to be a manner of speaking distinguished by a particular modification, which reduces it to a certain class ; and which renders it more lively, more noble, and more agree- able, than a manner of speaking which expresses the same thought without this particular modification of it. This he illustrates by a passage from Bruyere, where he says, " There are certain subjects, in which mediocrity is intolerable ; poetry, music, painting, and public speaking." " Here," says Du Marsais, " there is no figure, that is to say, the whole phrase merely expresses the thought of Bruyere, without any turn which particularly characterises it;" but when he adds, ' What punishment is it to hear a frigid composition pompously delivered, or poor verses pronounced with emphasis!' "This," says our author, "is the same thought, but there is added to it the expression of surprise and admiration ; and this expression makes it a figure." Or, in other words, a trope or figure is where a word or sentence is to be understood in a sense different from its most common and ordinary usage ; and it is this peculiar sense or form of the thought which constitutes the figure of the expression. This cannot be better illustrated than by the use of the word taste. When we say a person has a fine taste in wines, the word is used in its most common and ordinary sense ; but when we say he has a fine taste for painting, poetry, or music, we use the word figuratively : in the latter use of the word, therefore, there is a figure, and in the former none. Having thus given a general idea of the nature of rhetorical figures, I shall proceed to give a particular account of them 5 and first of the metaphor. 182 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, Metaphor. A metaphor is an expression, where a word or phrase departs from its more common and ordinary sense to another, which it resembles in some respects, and differs from in others ; or, in fewer words, it may be defined to be a simile, or comparison, without the sign of comparison. Thus, when we say Demosthenes was the bulwark of Athens, the word bulwark is a metaphor; because, as a bulwark guards a place from its enemies, so Demosthenes, by his eloquence, guarded the Athenian state. But if we say Demos- thenes was a bulwark to Athens, then it becomes a simile or comparison ; so that a metaphor is a strict- er or closer comparison, and a comparison a looser and less compact metaphor. " Metaphors," says an ingenious and judicious au- thor,* u abound in all writings : from scripture they might be produced in vast variety. Thus our blessed Lord is called a vine, a lamb, a lion, &c. Thus men, according to their different dispositions, are styled wolves, sheep, dogs, serpents, &c. And indeed meta- phors not only abound in the sacred writings, but they overspread all language ; and the more carefully we examine authors, not only poets but philosophers, the more shall we discover their free and large use of metaphors, taken from the arts and sciences, the cus- toms of mankind, and the unlimited fields of nature." Allegory. An allegory is a continuation of several metaphors, so connected in sense as to form a kind of parable or * Gibbon's Rhetoric, p. 24. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 183 fable. It differs from a single metaphor, says the above-mentioned author, in the same manner as a cluster on the vine does from a single grape. This we may illustrate by a very happy example of his own, where, speaking of the metaphor, he says, "Of all the flowers that embellish the regions of eloquence, there is none that rises to such an eminence, that bears so rich and beautiful a blossom, that diffuses such a copious and exquisite fragrance, or that so amply re- wards the care and culture of the poet or the orator."f Quintilian observes, that the most beautiful species of composition is that where there is a mixture of the comparison, the allegory, and the trope ; an instance of which he gives us in the following passage from Cicero : " What estuary, what part of the sea, can you imagine so much vexed with the tossing and agitation of the waves ? How violent the perturbations and fury of our popular assemblies, for the election of magistrates ! The space of only one day or night often throws all things into confusion, and sometimes only a small breath of rumour shall quite change the opinion of the whole people." Qjiintil. lib. vii. cap. 6. Metonymy. A Metonymy is a figure, where one name is put for another, for which it may be allowed to stand, on account of some relation or coherence between them. Thus, a humane prince is called a Titus, a cruel one a Nero, and a great conqueror an Alexander. Cicero, speaking of the study of eloquence, says, To omit Greece, which always claimed the preeminence for eloquence : and Athens, the inventress of all sciences, where the art of speaking was invented and perfected ; in this city of ours, no studies have prevailed more than that of eloquence. Where the words Greece and Athens stand to denote * Gibbon's Rhetoric, p. 27, 184 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. the inhabitants of those places ; and it is this usage of the city or country for the inhabitants that forms the metonymy. Synecdoche. A Synecdoche puts the whole for a part, or a part for the whole, as, Thy growing virtues justified my cares, And promis'd comfort to my silver hairs. Pope's Homer. That is, my old age. Achilles' wide-destroying wrath, that pour'd Ten thousand woes on Greece, O goddess, sing ! Homer's Iliad, b. i. v. 1. Gibbon's Rhet. p. 74. Where we may observe, that putting a certain number for an uncertain one, that is, ten thousand woes for the great number of woes brought on Greece by the wrath of Achilles, forms a species of the figure of Synecdoche. Hyperbole. An Hyperbole is a figure that goes beyond the bounds of strict truth, and represents things as great- er or smaller, better or worse, then they really are. Milton's strong pinions now at Heav'n can bound, Now serpent like in prose he sweeps the ground. Pope. Virgil, describing the swiftness of Camilla, says : Camilla Outstripped the winds in speed upon the plain, Flew o'er the fields, nor hurt the bearded grain : She swept the seas, and, as she skimm'd along, Her flying foot unbath'd in billows hung. Dry den, JEn. vii. Catachresis. The Catachresis, or abuse, borrows the name of one thing to express another, which either has no RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. lB5 proper name of its own, or, if it has, the borrowed name is more surprising and agreeable, on account of its novelty and boldness : thus the word drink, in the following passage, is so bold a figure as to be properly styled a Catachresis : Phemius ! let acts of gods and heroes old, What ancient bards in hall and bow'r have told Attemper' d to the lyre, your voice employ, Such the pleas'd ear will drink with silent joy. Pope's Homer's Odyssey. The figures which follow, and which, for the sake of distinction, may be styled oratorical figures, are such as derive much of their beauty from a proper delive- ry : this delivery we shall endeavour to describe ; and if the description conveys but a faint idea of the prop- er manner of pronouncing them, it must be remember- ed that a faint idea of this pronunciation is better than none at all. Irony. Irony is a figure, in which one extreme is signified by its opposite extreme ; or where we speak of one tiling and design another, in order to give the greater force and poignancy to our meaning. Thus Cicero sometimes applies it in the way of jest and banter, where he says, We have much reason to believe the modest man would not ask him for his debt, where he pursues his life. Pro Quint, c. 11. At other times, by way of insult and derision. Thus, when he would represent the forces of Catiline as mean and contemptible, he says, O terrible war ! in which this band of profligates are to march under Cati- line. Draw out all your garrisons against this formidable body ! 24 186 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. And at other times, in order to give the greater force to his argument, he seems, as it were, by this figure to recall and correct what he had said before : as in his oration for Milo : But it is foolish in us to compare Drusus Africanus, and ourselves, with Clodius ; all our other calamities were tolerable, but no one can patiently bear the death of Clodius. In pronouncing the first of these passages, we should assume an overacted approbation, and such a tone of voice as seems to exclude all doubt of the integrity of the person we sneer at : this tone is low and drawl- ing, and must be accompanied by a lifting up of the hands, as if it were a crime to think otherwise than we speak. In the second passage we must assume a fear, as if occasioned by the most terrible danger. The voice must be in a high, tremulous tone, and the hands lift- ed up, with the palms and fingers open, as if to defend us from approaching ruin. In the third passage we must assume a disapproba- tion, approaching to contempt : the voice must be in a low tone, and the right hand with the palm and fingers open, waved from the left to the right, as if to set aside something too insignificant to be attended to ; but the last member must have the tone of ap- probation, as if the object of it were something very noble and sacred. For this sentence, see pp. 87 and 88, and the plate annexed. Satan beheld their plight, And to his mates thus in derision call'd. O friends, why come not on these victors proud ? Erewhile they fierce were coming, and when we To entertain them with fair open front And breast (what could we more ?) propounded terms Of composition, straight they chang'd their minds, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 187 Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell As they would dance ; yet for a dance they seem'd Somewhat extravagant and wild : perhaps For joy of offer'd peace ; but I suppose, If our proposals once again were heard, We should compel them to a quick result. Milton's Paradise Lost, b. vi. v. 609. This passage, as Mr. Addison observes, is nothing but a string of puns, and those very bad ones too : but whatever may be its merits in other respects, it affords an excellent opportunity of practising the pro- nunciation of irony. It must begin by an affected surprise, and proceed with a seriousness and seeming sincerity till the seventh line, when the word for is to have an emphasis with the rising inflection, and to be pronounced with an air of uncertainty whether it were a dance or not. A sneer commences at perhaps, which must be pronounced with a sly arch tone, as if per- fectly secure of the consequences of another onset. Ecphonesis. Exclamation and Interrogation have been treated at large in the former part of this work 5 but there they have been considered only with respect to pause and inflection of voice : here it will be necessary to con- sider them more rhetorically, and to endeavour to show what tones, passions, and gestures, they demand. Ecphonesis, or Exclamation, is a figure which shows that the mind labours with some strong and vehement passion. It is generally expressed by such interjec- tions as ! Oh ! Ah ! Alas ! and the like, which may be called the signs of this figure. But first we may observe, that while other figures are confined to some particular passion, this seems to 188 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. extend to all, and is the voice of nature under any kind of commotion or concern : this voice, however, is not (as we are told in our grammars) always in a high and elevated tone : strong passion is not unfrequent- ly expressed by a low tone ; for, though both loud- ness and highness generally accompany any sudden emotion of soul, it is certain that we may cry out in a loud and high tone without much emotion, provided it is not sudden, without being either very high or very loud. The tone of the passion, therefore, must direct the tone of the voice in this figure. Accord- ingly we find that joy unexpected adopts this figure, and elevates the voice to the highest pitch. O my soul's joy If after ev'ry tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death ! Skakspeare's Othello. joy ! thou welcome stranger ! twice three years 1 have not felt thy vital beam ; but now It warms my veins, and plays about my heart : A fiery instinct lifts me from the ground, And I could mount Revenge, act iii. Sorrow in the extreme likewise adopts this figure, and raises the voice into a high tone : thus Lady Con- stance, in King John, cries out, I am not mad — I would to heav'n I were ! For then 'tis like I should forget myself : Oh if I could, what grief should I forget ! But a slight degree of sorrow, or pleasing melancholy, adopts this figure in a soft middle tone of voice : thus the duke, in Shakspeare's Twelfth Night, relieving his melancholy with music, says : That strain again ! it had a dying fall ! Oh, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 189 While the contemptuous reproach and impatience of Lady Macbeth uses the exclamation in a harsh and lower tone of voice : O proper stuff ! This is the veiy painting of your fears : This is the air-drawn dagger, which you said Led you to Duncan. Thus Cicero, speaking of his banishment, from which he had been so honourably recalled, begins in a low and mournful tone, but ends in a high and exulting one : Oh mournful day to the senate and all good men ! calamitous to the sen- ate, afflictive to me and my family ; but to posterity glorious, and worthy of admiration ! Pro Sext. cap. 12. Again, in his defence of Cselius, endeavouring to ex- pose his accusers to the indignation of the court, he cries out, in a loud and high tone, Oh 1 the great and mighty force of truth, which so easily supports itself against all the wit, craft, subtlety, and artful designs of men ! At other times he adopts this figure to express disdain or contempt ; as when speaking of Pompey's house, which Mark Antony had purchased, he says to him, in a low, contemptuous tone, — Oh consummate impudence ! dare you go within those walls ? dare you venture over that venerable threshold, and show your audacious countenance to the tutelar deities which reside there? Phillipic ii. c. 26. Thus we see the exclamation adapts itself to the passion which adopts it, and is either in a high or low tone of voice, as the passion requires; but as it is seldom adopted, but when there is a strong emotion of soul, it is generally heard in a loud tone, though not always in a high one : this distinction of voice is so little understood or attended to, that it is no won- 190 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. der we find our grammars echoing from each other that this figure always requires a high and elevated tone. Erotesis. Erotesis, or Interrogation, is a figure by which we express the emotion of our mind, and infuse an ar- dour and energy into our discourse by proposing questions. This figure, as it relates to grammar, has been al- ready treated of at large, and that slide or inflection of voice which distinguishes one species of it has been fully explained and inculcated : for, as the learned professor Ward observes, " Every interrogation or question is not figurative. When we inquire about a thing that is doubtful, in order to be informed, this is no figure, but the natural form of such expressions ; as if I ask a person, where he is going ? or what he is doing? But it then becomes figurative, when the same thing may be expressed in a direct manner : but the putting it by way of question gives it a much greater life and spirit : as when Cicero says, Catiline, how long will you abuse our patience ? Do not you per- ceive your designs are discovered ? He might indeed have said, You abuse our patience a long while : you must be sensible your designs are discovered. But it is easy to perceive how much this latter way of expres- sion falls short of the force and vehemence of the for- mer. " This figure, like the last, is the vehicle of every passion and emotion of the mind. But if we consider it only as a departure from the declarative form, and not accompanied by any passion, it wonderfully va- ries and enlivens the style, by holding personal con- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 191 verse as it were with the reader or auditor, and urg- ing him to attention by the answer it leads him to expect. If this figure is formed by the verb only, and without the interrogative words, it frequently com- mences and continues with a monotone, and ends with an inflection of voice, which not only pleases the ear by the striking variety it produces, but rouses the attention by its more immediate address to the un- derstanding. Rut when to these marking properties we annex emotion or passion, this figure becomes the most powerful engine in the whole arsenal of oratory. How does Cicero press and bear down his adversary by the force of interrogations, when, pleading for his client, he thus addresses himself to his accuser : I will make you this offer, Plancius ; choose any one tribe you please, and show, as you ought, by whom it was bribed : but if you cannot, and, in my opinion, will not even attempt to do this, I will show you how he gained it. Is this a fair contest ? Will you engage on this ground ? It is an open, hon- ourable challenge to you. Why are you silent ? Why do you dissemble ? Why do you prevaricate ? I repeatedly insist upon this point, I urge you to it, press it, require it, nay, I demand it of you. His interrogations to Tubero, in his Oration for Liga- rius, have the same irresistible force. What, Tubero, did that naked sword of yours mean in the battle of Phar- salia ? at whose breast was its point aimed ? What was then the meaning of your arms, your spirit, your eyes, your hands, your ardour of soul ? What did you desire, what wish for ? I press the youth too much ; he seems disturb- ed. Let me return to myself. I too bore arms on the same side. As these questions have the nature of a climax, they ought to be pronounced with increasing force to the end ; that is, every succeeding question should be pronounced higher and louder than the preceding, and the demand in the last example but one in a low- er and louder tone than all. What uncommon force and spirit do the questions 194 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. of Germanicus to his mutinous soldiers give to his reproaches ! What is there in these days that you have not attempted ? what have you not profaned? What name shall I give to this assembly ? Shall I call you. soldiers ? y6u, who have besieged with your arms, and surrounded with a trench, the son of your emperor ? Shall I call you citizens ? you, who have so shamefully trampled upon the authority of the senate ? you, who have violated the justice due to enemies, the sanctity of embassy, and the rights of nations ? Tacitus, Annals, lib. i. The beauty of this passage depends much upon the pronunciation of the word you : for as it is in apposi- tion to the question beginning with a verb, like that it ought to have the rising inflection ; but this inflec- tion ought to be pronounced with a large scope of sound, beginning low and ending high, the voice dwelling a considerable time on the pronunciation : this will in some measure express that surprise and indignation with which the questions are charged ; and if the second you is made more emphatical than the first, and the third than the second, the force and variety of the passage will be considerably augmented. Bee Question, page 103. Aparithnesis, or Enumeration, Gradation, and Climax, I have associated these different figures under the same head, because there is something as similar in their pronunciation as in their structure and meaning ; and this similitude may serve to illustrate and ex- plain what there is alike in the pronunciation of each. What is common to these figures is an accumulation of particulars, which particulars form a whole; and the pronunciation in all of them should mark strongly that unity and wholeness, in which the force and beauty of the figure consist. This pronunciation has been RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 195 explained at large in the article Series, page 116, and to this the reader must be referred. It seems only necessary to add here, that, in proportion to the de- gree of passion with which any of these figures are charged, the pronunciation of the latter members should rise in force and elevation of voice above the former, that the whole may conclude with a suitable force and variety. But even where there is no pas- sion in the enumeration 01 particulars, and one does not rise above another in importance, it seems highly proper to increase the force and elevation of voice on the latter members, in order to avoid too great a sameness, and to make the sentence end with harmony. Thus, when Cicero enumerates the great qualities of Pompey : What language can ^qual the valour of Pompey ? What can be said, eith- er worthy of him, new to you, or which every one has not heard ? For those are not the only virtues of a general which are commonly thought so. It is not courage alone which forms a great leader, but industry in business, intrepidity in dangers, vigour in acting, prudence in concerting, promptness in executing. All which qualities appear with greater lustre in him than in all the other generals we ever saw or heard of. Proleg. Man. In the same manner, when Mr. Addison enumerates the several particulars in Milton's allegorical charac- ter of Death : The descriptive part of this allegory is likewise very strong, and full of sublime ideas : the figure of death, the regal crown upon his head, his men- ace of Satan, his advancing to the combat, the outcry at his birth, are cir- cumstances too noble to be passed over in silence, and extremely suitable to this king of terrours. Spectator, J\o. 310. In these enumerations we do not find the particulars rising in force as they proceed : but as their sameness of form requires a sameness of inflection, in order to show that they are parts of a whole, so a small in- crease of force and elevation on each subsequent par- 25 194 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. of Germanicus to his mutinous soldiers give to his reproaches ! What is there in these days that you have not attempted ? what have you not profaned ? What name shall I give to this assembly ? Shall I call you soldiers ? y6u, who have besieged with your arms, and surrounded with a trench, the son of your emperor ? Shall I call you citizens ? you, who have so shamefully trampled upon the authority of the senate ? you, who have violated the justice due to enemies, the sanctity of embassy, and the rights of nations ? Tacitus, Annals, lib. i. The beauty of this passage depends much upon the pronunciation of the word you : for as it is in apposi- tion to the question beginning with a verb, like that it ought to have the rising inflection ; but this inflec- tion ought to be pronounced with a large scope of sound, beginning low and ending high, the voice dwelling a considerable time on the pronunciation : this will in some measure express that surprise and indignation with which the questions are charged; and if the second you is made more emphatical than the first, and the third than the second, the force and variety of the passage will be considerably augmented. Bee Question, page 103. Aparithmesis, or Enumeration, Gradation, and Climax, I have associated these different figures under the same head, because there is something as similar in their pronunciation as in their structure and meaning ; and this similitude may serve to illustrate and ex- plain what there is alike in the pronunciation of each. What is common to these figures is an accumulation of particulars, which particulars form a whole ; and the pronunciation in all of them should mark strongly that unity and wholeness, in which the force and beauty of the figure consist. This pronunciation has been RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 195 explained at large in the article Series, page 116, and to this the reader must be referred. It seems only necessary to add here, that, in proportion to the de- gree of passion with which any of these figures are charged, the pronunciation of the latter members should rise in force and elevation of voice above the former, that the whole may conclude with a suitable force and variety. But even where there is no pas- sion in the enumeration of particulars, and one does not rise above another in importance, it seems highly proper to increase the force and elevation of voice on the latter members, in order to avoid too great a sameness, and to make the sentence end with harmony. Thus, when Cicero enumerates the great qualities of Pompey : What language can ^qual the valour of Pompey ? What can be said, eith- er worthy of him, new to you, or which every one has not heard? For those are not the only virtues of a general which are commonly thought so. It is not courage alone which forms a great leader, but industry in business, intrepidity in dangers, vigour in acting, prudence in concerting, promptness in executing. All which qualities appear with greater lustre in him than in all the other generals we ever saw or heard of. Proleg. Man. In the same maimer, when Mr. Addison enumerates the several particulars in Milton's allegorical charac- ter of Death : The descriptive part of this allegory is likewise very strong, and full of sublime ideas : the figure of death, the regal crown upon his head, his men- ace of Satan, his advancing to the combat, the outciy at his birth, are cir- cumstances too noble to be passed over in silence, and extremely suitable to this king of termors. Spectator, A"o. 310. Ill these enumerations we do not find the particulars rising in force as they proceed : but as their sameness of form requires a sameness of inflection, in order to show that they are parts of a whole, so a small in- crease of force and elevation on each subsequent par- 25 196 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. ticular seems necessary, in order to make the whole more varied and agreeable. Climax, or gradation, taken in the strictest sense, is an assemblage of particulars forming a whole in such a manner, that the last idea in the former mem- ber becomes the first in the latter, and so on, step by step, till the climax or gradation is completed. There is great strength as well as beauty in this fig- ure, when the several steps rise naturally out of each other, and are closely connected by the sense which they jointly convey. This mutual relation of parts we may perceive in the following example : There is no enjoyment of property without government, no government without a magistrate, no magistrate without obedience, and no obedience where every one acts as he pleases. This climax is a concluding series, and must have its two first members pronounced with the falling inflection ; the third with the rising, and the last with the falling, in a lower tone of voice than any of the rest. In the same manner, when Cicero is pleading for Milo, he says, Nor did he commit himself only to the people, but also to the senate ; not to the senate only, but likewise to the public forces ; nor to these only, but also to the power of him with whom the senate had intrusted the whole commonwealth. In this climax the circumstances rise in importance, and should therefore have an increasing force and elevation of voice as they proceed. The two first members must end with the falling inflection — these only with the rising, and the last with the falling, but in a more forcible and elevated tone than the rest. A similar figure from Cicero must be pronounced somewhat differently. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 197 What hope is there remaining of liberty, if whatever is their pleasure, it is lawful for them to do ; if what is lawful for them to do, they are able to do ; if what they are able to do, they dare do ; if what they dare do, they really execute ; and if what they execute, is no way offensive to you ? In pronouncing this figure, the voice must adopt the falling inflection on each particular ; it must in- crease in force and elevation till it comes to the last member, and this must have still more force than the former members, but must be pronounced in a low concluding tone. A perfectly similar pronunciation will suit the fol- lowing climax from Shakspeare : What a piece of work is man ! how noble in reason ! how infinite in faculties! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how Hke an angel ! in apprehension how like a God ! Hamlet. Mr. Addision has a beautiful climax of circumstan- ces rising one above another, when he is describing the treatment of negroes in the West Indies, who some- times, upon the death of their masters, or upon chang- ing their service, hang themselves upon the next tree. Who can forbear, says Mr. Addison, admiring their fidelity, though it ex- presses itself in so dreadful a manner ? What might not that savage great- ness of soul, which appears in these poor wretches on many occasions, be raised to, were it rightly cultivated ? And what colour of excuse can there be for the contempt with which we treat this part of our species ? That we should not put them upon the common foot of humanity ; that we should only set an insignificant fine upon the man who murders them; nay, that we should, as much as in us lies, cut them off from the prospects of happiness in another world as well as in this, and deny them that which we look upon as the proper means for attaining it ? Spectator, No. 215. The falling inflection with increasing force upon the words humanity, murders, and another, will give that force and colouring to this passage which it so richly deserves. But the series or climax never appears to such ad- vantage in pronunciation as when it is highly impas- 198 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. sioned. Of this kind are the two following examples from Demosthenes : But since he lias insisted so ranch upon the event, I will hazard a bold as- sertion. But I beseech you, Athenians, let it not be deemed extravagant, — let it be weighed with candour. I say, then, that, had we all known what misfortune was to attend our efforts, had we all foreseen the final issue ; had you foretold it, iEschines ; had you bellowed out your terrible denunciations (you, whose voice was never heard,) yet even in such a case must this city have pursued the veiy same conduct, if she had retained a thought of glory, of her ancestors, or of future times. Leland's Demosthenes. In my affection to my country, you find me ever firm and invariable. Not the solemn demand of my person, not the vengeance of the Amphyction- ic council, which they denounced against me, not the terrour of their threat- enings, not the flattery of their promises, no, nor the fury of those accursed wretches, whom they roused like wild beasts against me, could ever tear this affection from my breast. Ibid. Epanaphora. Epanaphora, or Repetition, is a figure which grace- fully and emphatically repeats either the same words, or the some sense in different words. This figure is nearly allied to the aparithmesis and climax, and requires nearly the same pronunciation ; that is, the repeated words must be pronounced with a sameness of inflection, but with an increasing force and elevation of voice upon each. This expresses that force, uniformity, and diversity, which constitute the beauty of this figure. There is scarcely a more beautiful instance of this figure than in Cicero's Second Oration against Antony. As trees and plants necessarily arise from seeds, so are you, A x ntony, the seed of this most calamitous war. You mourn, Romans ! that three of your armies have been slaughtered — they were slaughtered by A^ntony : you la- ment the loss of your most illustrious citizens — they were torn from you by A v ntony: the authority of this order is deeply wounded — it is wounded by A'ntony : in short, all the calamities we have ever since beheld (and what / RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 199 calamities have we not beheld ?) if we reason rightly, have been entirely owing to A'ntony. As Helen was of Troy, so the bane, the misery, the de- struction of this state — is A'ntony. The first part of this passage forms a kind of dia- logue, where both the question and answer require the same inflection, but in different pitches of voice. Thus, You mourn, O Romans ! that three of your ar- mies have been slaughtered, must be pronounced in an open middle tone of voice, without much force ; but they were slaughtered by Antony, in a lower, louder, and more energetic tone : the two succeeding portions ought to be pronounced in the same manner, with an increasing force and a higher tone on the word Anto- ny : the two last members are of a different struc- ture from the former, and must be pronounced some- what differently ; that is, Antony must be pronounced in a lower tone than in the former members, but with increasing force to the last. In pronouncing this passage in this manner, it has the effect of a climax ; every part has a relation to every part ; and all the parts belong to each other, and form a striking and harmonious whole. Sometimes, however, in this figure, especially in verse, the parts do not so necessarily belong to each other as to form a whole ; and when this is the case, the pronunciation ought to be as various and as musical as possible^ that the repetition of the same words may not too much cloy the ear and injure the melody of the verse. Thus, in the lamentation of Orpheus for his beloved Eurydice, in Virgil's Georgics, b. iv. v. 465. Te dulcis conjux ; te solo in littore serum, Te veniente die, te decedente, canebat. 200 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Th6e his loved wife along the lonely shores ; Thee, his loved wife, his mournful song deplores ; Thee, when the rising morning gives the light, Thee, when the world was overspread with night. Gibbon's Rhetoric, p. 210. This beautiful repetition requiring a tender, plain- tive tone, does not admit of much variety, nor does it stand in need of it. Every thee ought to have the rising inflection, and a pause after it. The first, his lov^d wife, may have a pathetic monotone ; and the second may have the falling inflection on lov J d, and the rising on wife, which will form a variety and add to the pathos. Some variety and pathos may also arise from pronouncing the second and fourth thee, with the voice sliding higher and a pause longer than at the first and third. Thus the beautiful repetition of the word falPn in Dryden's Ode requires such a variety only as is con- sistent with the harmony. Every falPn ought to have a long pause after it, with such an inflection as the verse requires ; and the tone of voice, with respect to its height, ought to be more elevated on the last than on any of the former. He chose a mournful muse. Soft pity to infuse : He sung Darius, great and good. By too severe a fate, Fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, Fall'n from his high estate, And welt'ring in his blood. Lord Karnes, in his Elements of Criticism, tells us, that the line falPn, falPn, falPn, falPn, represents a gradual sinking of the mind, and therefore is pro- nounced with a falling voice by every one of taste without instruction. It is not easy to understand RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 201 what his lordship means by the falling v#ice, with which he says this line is to be spoken. If he means that the voice is to fall gradually lower upon every succeeding word, we need but try this pronunciation, immediately to discover the impropriety of it ; but by the falling tone it is probable was meant a tone of pity, which increases as we repeat the words, but which by no means requires that the voice should drop into a lower key upon every succeeding word : this would entirely overturn the melody of the stanza, for the sake of something like a childish echo to the sense. The truth is, in pronouncing this repetition properly, we must assume a low plaintive tone, pronounce the first falVn with the rising inflection approaching to a monotone, the second nearly in a monotone with the falling inflection, the third with the falling inflection, and the fourth w T ith the rising, without any monotone at all. The fifth falPn, which begins the sixth line, must have the rising inflection sliding very high, that the voice may fall gradually upon the succeeding w r ords, and form a cadence. There is a similar repetition in the first stanza of this ode, whi ch requires a variety of emphasis in the pronunciation, very important to the sense and har- mony of the w 7 hole. H&ppy, happy, happy pair ! No ne bat the brave, Nc-ne but the brave, N< ne but the brave, deserves the fair. The first line must be pronounced with the same inflections pjs the fifth line of the last example, but in a quite opposite tone of passion: that, in a low mournful tone ; this in a high, gay and lively one, 202 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. The second line must have the falling inflection with emphatic force on the word brave ; the third line must have a stronger emphasis, with the falling in- flection on none ; and the last line a still more forci- ble emphasis with the same inflection on but: and this diversity will be found absolutely necessary to prevent a too great sameness in the pronunciation. Prolepsis. Prolepsis or Anticipation, is a figure, by which the speaker suggests an objection to what he is advanc- ing, and returns an answer to it. This figure affords an orator a favourable opportunity of altering his voice and manner, and by this means of throwing a greater variety into his pronunciation. The nature of the figure dictates the manner of delivering it. When we propose an objection against ourselves, candour requires a certain fairness and openness of manner, which may show we do justice to the opinion of our adversary, and want to conceal nothing from our judges. This frankness of manner is best express- ed by a clear open tone of voice somewhat higher and louder than the general tone of the discourse, nearly as if we were calling out to a person at a dis- tance ; after which the answer must begin in a low firm tone, that the objection and answer may be the more clearly distinguished, and that what we oppose to the objection may have more the appearance of cool reason and argument. An excellent example of this figure is in Cicero's Oration for Archias. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 203 How many examples of the bravest men have the Greek and Latin writers left us,— not only to contemplate but to imitate ! These illustri- ous models I have always set before me in the government of the state, and have formed my conduct by contemplating- their virtues. But it will be asked, were those great men who are celebrated in his- tory distinguished for that kind of learning which you so highly extol? It would be difficult, I grant, to prove this of them all ; but what I shall answer is nevertheless certain. I own, then, that there have been many men of excellent dispositions, and distinguished virtue, who, without learning, and by the almost divine force of nature herself, have attained to great wisdom and worth ; nay, farther, 1 will allow that nature with- out learning is of greater efficacy towards the attainment of glory and virtue, than learning without na'ure ; but then I affirm, that when to an excellent natural disposition are added the embellishments of learning, there always results from this union something astonishingly great and extraordinary. Before the prolepsis in this passage, as generally in every other where it occurs, the voice falls into a low tone, as having concluded some branch of the dis- course : this gives it a better opportunity of striking into the higher tone proper to the objection ; and when this is pronounced, the voice falls into a lower tone, as it begins the answer, and rises again gradu- ally with the importance of the subject. We have a beautiful instance of this figure in Cato : But, grant that others can with equal glory, Look down on pleasures and the bait of sense, Where shall we find the man that bears affliction, Great and majestic in his ills, like Cato ? The two first lines of this passage require a plain, high, open tone of voice ; and the two last a lower tone, accompanied with a slight expression of reproach for supposing any one could be equal to Cato. Pope affords us another instance of this figure : You think this cruel. Take it for a rule, — Xo creature smarts so little as a fool. 26 204 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, The words " You think this cruel" must be pro- nounced in a high, loud tone of voice, and the rest in a lower and softer tone. We have a striking instance of this figure in Pope, where, speaking of the daring flights of the ancients, he says, I know there are to whose presumptuous thoughts Those freer beauties even in them seem faults ; Some figures mt nitrous and misshap'd appear, ConsiderM singly or beheld too near, Which but proportion^ to their light or place, Due distance reconciles to form and srrace. Essay on Criticism, v. 169. The objection and answer in this passage are so little distinguished by the author, that unless we dis- tinguish them by a different tone of voice, an audi- tor would not well conceive where the objection ends and the answer begins. In reading this passage, tberefore, we must pronounce the two first lines in a high, open, declarative tone of voice, and commence the third in a low, concessive tone, approaching to a mon- otone ; this monotone must continue till near the end of the fifth line, when the voice is to adopt the rising inflection in a somewhat higher tone at the end ; and to commence the sixth line in a still higher tone, pause with the rising inflection at distance, and finish the line with the voice going gradually lower to the end. Synchoresis. Synchoresis, or Concession, is a figure by which we grant or yield up something, in order to gain a point, which we could not so well secure without it. This figure with respect to its pronunciation, seems the reverse of the former. For in that, as we must RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 205 commence in an open, elevated tone, and drop into a low and firm one, so in this, we must pronounce the concessive part of the figure in a low, light tone, as if what we allowed our adversary was of no great im- portance, and then assume the argument in a strong elevated tone, as if we had acquired a double force from the concession we had made. Thus Cicero, pleading for Flaccus, in order to invalidate the testi- mony of the Greeks, who were witnesses against his client, allows them every quality but that which was necessary to make them credited. This, however, I say concerning- all the Greeks ; — I grant them learn- ing, the knowledge of many sciences ; I do not deny that they have wit, fine genius, and eloquence : nay, if they lay claim to many other excel- lencies, I shall not contest their title : but this I must say, that nation never paid a proper regard to the religious sanctity of public evidence; and are total strangers to the obligation, authority, and importance of truth. The first part of this passage, which forms the con- cession, should be spoken in a slight, easy manner, and in a tone rather below that of common conversa- tion ; but the assertion in the latter part should rise into a somewhat higher tone, and assume a strength and firmness expressive of the force of the argument. It may not be improper to remark to those who un- derstand the two inflections of the voice, that the sev- eral members of the concession seem to require the rising inflection. Nothing more confounds an adversary than to grant him his whole argument, and at the same time either to show that it is nothing to the purpose, or to offer something else that may invalidate it, as in the follow- ing example : 206 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. I allow that nobody was more nearly related to the deceased than you j I grant that he was under some obligations to you ; nay, that you have always been in friendly correspondence with each other : but what is all this to the last will and testament ? The concession in this passage must be pronounced in a moderate, conciliating tone of voice : but the question at the end must rise into a higher, louder, and more forcible tone. There is an uncommon force in a passage of Cato's speech concerning the punishment of the traitors in Catiline's conspiracy, which manifestly arises from the figure upon which we are treating. Let them, since our manners are so corrupted, be liberal out of the fortunes of ouraliies ; let them be compassionate to the robbers of the public treasury: but let them not throw away our blood, and, b} sparing a few abandoned villains, make way for the destruction of all good men. In this example the tone of voice, with respect to height, is nearly the same throughout : but the second member assumes a much stronger and firmer, though rather lower tone, and necessarily ends with the ris- ing inflection. Epanorthosis. Epanorthosis, or Correction, is a figure by which we retract or recall what we have spoken, for the sake of substituting something stronger or more suitable in its place. The use of this figure lies in the unexpected inter- ruption it gives to the current of our discourse, by turning the stream as it were back upon itself, and then returning it upon the auditor with redoubled force and precision. The nature of this figure dic- tates its pronunciation ; it is somewhat akin to the parenthesis. What we correct should be so pronounc- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 207 ed as to seem the immediate effusion of the moment % for which purpose it does not only require a separa- tion from the rest of the sentence, by an alteration of the voice into a lower tone, but an abrupt discontin- uance of the member immediately preceding. This, however, is one of the most difficult things to execute in the whole art of speaking, and must be managed nicely, not to have the appearance of affectation : for which reason it would be better for the generality of readers to consider this figure merely as a parenthe- sis, and to pronounce it accordingly. Cicero makes use of this figure in his oration for Milo : Can you be ignorant, among the conversation of this city, what laws — • if they are to be called laws, and not rather the firebrands of Rome and the plngues of the commonwealth — this Clodius designed to fasten and fix upon us ? The figure in this passage may be read like a pa- renthesis : the voice should break short at laws ; at if it should assume a lower, swifter, and more indig- nant tone ; at commonwealth it should slide upwards into what is called a suspension ; and at this assume the tone with which the sentence commenced. The same directions may be applied to the interjected member, in the following passage of Cicero, in his de- fence of Plancius : For what greater blow could those judges — if they are to be called judges, and not rather parricides of their country — have given to the statt , than when they banished that very man, who, when praetor, deliv- ered the republic from a neighbouring, and who, when consul, savtd it from a civil war. Sometimes this figure comes after the sense is com- pleted, and then the preceding member closes without the break ; but in this case we may make a pause af- ter the first words of the correction, as if to demur and to correct ourselves, in order to rectify an over- 208 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. sight. This may be exemplified in the following pas- sage of Cicero's Third Philippic. Octavious Caesar, though but a youth, nay rather a boy, inspired with an incredible and divine spirit and courage, at that very time when the fury of Antony was at its height, and when his cruel and pernicious re- turn was so much dreaded, when we neither solicited nor imagined nor desired it, because it seemed utterly impracticable, raised a most powerful army of invincible veterans ; for which service he threw away his own es- tate ; but — I have used an improper word — he did not throw it away, he bestowed it foi the salvation of the commonwealth. A pause at but and word, in the latter part of the sentence, will mark the correction more strongly. It may be remarked also, that though this figure must be pronounced in a lower tone of voice than the for- mer part of the sentence, it ought to have much more force and dignity. Anfntrophe. Ana-strophe, or Inversion, is a figure by which we place last, and perhaps at a great distance from the be- ginning of the sentence, what, according to the com- mon order, should have been placed first. Milton begins his Paradise Lost by a beautiful ex- ample of this figure. Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of* that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, and all our wo, With loss of Eden, till one greater man Restore us, and regain the blissful seat ; Sing, heav'nly muse ! that on the secret top Of Oreb or of Sinai didst inspire That shepherd who first taught the chosen seed In the beginning how the heav'ns and earth Rose out of chaos. The natural order of the words in this passage would have been, Heavenly muse, sing of marts first disobedience, &c. — and in this arrangement of the RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 209 words no pause is necessary between the verb sing and its object, of man's first disobedience, &c. ; but when the object of the verb, with all its concomitants, are placed before the verb, as in the example, we then find the pause preceding the verb sing increase in proportion to its distance from the beginning of its object, of man's first disobedience, &c. It may be laid down as a good general rule, that, whenever the natural order of the words is changed, there must be a pause between those portions that are disarranged, though no pause would be necessary, if the words were in their natural order. Thus in the following passage from the same author : Th' angelic blast Fill'd all the regions : from their blissful bow'rs Of amaranthine shade, fountain, or spring, By the waters of life, where're they sat In fellowship of joy, the sons of light Hasted, resorting to the summons high, And took their seats. Par. Lost, b. xi. v. 76. The natural order of the words would be, The sons of light hasted from their blissful botv'rs, &c. where we may observe that a very small pause, if any, would be admitted at hasted in this order of the words, but that, as they stand in Milton, a considerable pause is re- quired at this word, and a still greater at joy, as it is here the inversion ends and the natural order begins. We have in Lowth's Grammar another instance of the necessity of pausing when the order of the words is inverted, which is as worthy of being quoted for the good sense it contains as for the opportunity it affords of exemplifying the present rule. The connective parts of sentences are the most important of all, and require the greatest care and attention ; for it is by these chiefly that the train of thought, the course of reasoning, and the whole progress of 210 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. the mind in continued discourse of all kinds is laid open ; and on the right use of these the perspicuity, that is, the first and greatest beauty, of style, principally depends. Lowth's Grammar, p. 128. The adverbial phrases, by these chiefly, and on the right use of these, are classes of words which would re- quire a pause, even if they came in their natural or- der after the verbs laid open and depends ; but, as they come before these verbs, and are separated from them by many other words, a long pause after each is indispensably necessary ; though in no edition of this grammar that I have seen is there any pause marked. Apostrophe. Apostrophe, or Occasional Address, is a figure in which we interrupt the current of our discourse, and turn to another person, or to some other object dif- ferent from that to which our address was at first di- rected. This figure is seldom used ; but when, in a violent commotion, the speaker turns himself on all sides, and appeals to the living and the dead, to an- gels and to men, to rocks, groves, and rivers, for the justice of his cause, or calls upon them to sympathize with his joy, grief, or resentment. The tone of voice to be employed in pronouncing this figure is as various as the passions it assumes ; but as these passions are generally very vehement, a higher and louder tone of voice is generally necessary in the apostrophe than in that part of the oration that precedes it. When we address inanimate things, es- pecially if they are supposed to be distant, the voice must rise in height and loudness, as if the speaker were resolved to make them hear him. In this man- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 211 ner we may presume Cicero pronounced that fine apostrophe in his Oration for Milo, when, speaking of the death of Clodius, he says : O ye judges ! it was not by human counsel, nor by any thing less than the immediate care of the immortal gods, that this event has taken place. The very divinities themselves, who beheld that monster fall, seemed to he moved, and to have inflicted their veng ance upon him. I appeal to, I call to witness, you, O ye hills and groves of Aiba ! you, the demolished Alban altars ! ever accounted holy by the Romans, and coeval with our religion, but which Clodius, in his mad fury, having first cut down and levelled the most sacred groves, had sunk under heaps of common build- ings ; I appeal to you, I call you to witness, whether your altars, your divinities, your powers, which he had polluted with all kinds of wicked- ness, did not avenge themselves when this wretch was extirpated ? And thou, holy Jupiter ! from the height of thy sacred mount, whose lakes, groves, and boundaries, he had so often contaminated with his detestable impurities ; — and you, the other deities, whom he had insulted, at length opened your eyes to punish this enormous offender. By you, by you, and in your sight, was tne slow, but the righteous and merited vengeance ex- ecuted upon him. In pronouncing this passage, it is evident that the speaker must raise his voice at I appeal, &c. and, with a force and rapidity bordering on enthusiasm, continue the voice in this pitch till the invocation of Jupiter, who, as the supreme being, is supposed to be present, and to be too sacred to be addressed with the same violence as inanimate objects ; for which reason the speaker must lower his voice into a solemn monotone, and continue in his lower tone with increasing force to the end. Asyndeton and Polysyndeton. Asyndeton and Polysyndeton, or Omission and i?e- dundance of Copulatives, are figures by which the thought and language are strengthened and invigorat- ed either by leaving out or repeating the conjunctive particles. The learned Dr. Ward says, that "the 27 212 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. asyndeton leaves out the connecting particles, to rep- resent either the celerity of an action, or the haste and eagerness of the speaker ; and that the polysyndeton adds a weight and gravity to an expression, and makes what is said to appear with an air of solemnity, and, hy retarding the course of the sentence, gives the mind an opportunity to consider and reflect upon ev- ery part distinctly/' System of Oratory 9 vol. ii. pp. 50, 51. That these figures are very properly employed to signify swiftness or slowness of thought or action, it cannot be denied ; but that they are not always so employed is evident from a thousand examples. But though we frequently omit the particles, for the sake of a greater variety and compactness of style, and to avoid a too tedious repetition, yet we ought never to introduce them but where the thought requires it, and where they seem to accumulate force and emphasis to a subject. There is an example of both these figures in a pas- sage of Demosthenes, which may serve to explain these observations. For as to naval power, and the number of forces, and revenues, and a plenty of martial preparations, and in a word, as to other things that may be esteemed the strength of a state, these are all both more and greater than in former times ; but all these things are rendered useless, inefficacious, abortive, through the power of corruption. Philippic, iii. In the first part of this sentence, the repetition of the conjunction and seems to add to the strength of the particulars it enumerates, and each particular de- mands a deliberate and emphatic pronunciation in the rising inflection ; but the last part of the sentence, without the particles, being expressive of the impa- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 213 tience and regret of the speaker, requires a swifter pronunciation of the particulars. In the exordium to Cicero's Second Oration against Catiline, we have an instance of the asyndeton, which is much celebrated. At length, at length, O Romans ! have we driven, or despatched, or forced into a voluntary retreat, Lucius Catiline, intoxicated with insolence, breathing out guilt, impiously meditating the destruction of his country, anl threatening you and this city with all the calamities of fire and sword. He is gone, he is vanished, he is escaped, he is sallied out. The latter member of this passage, which forms the figure asyndeton, must be pronounced with a swiftness expressive of the flight of Catiline ; but this swiftness should rather be in the pronunciation of the words themselves, than in omitting the pauses between them ; for it may be laid down as a good general rule, that wherever there is a particle omitted, there must always be a pause ; and though in the present example, the pauses should not be so long as in solemn and delibe- rate pronunciation, yet it ought to be quite as percep- tible, and bear the same proportion to the time taken up in delivering the words. These figures partake of the nature of the aparith- mesis, or enumeration, and require the same inflec- tion of voice on each particular, as in the series or climax ; but as was before observed, though the poly- syndeton, or repetition of particles, generally requires a solemn, deliberate, and emphatic pronunciation on each particular, the asyndeton, or omission of parti- cles, does not always require a greater swiftness and precipitancy. I shall illustrate both these positions by examples from the scripture : 214 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, go -dness, faith, meekness, temperance ; against such there is no law. In pronouncing this passage, we find it necessary to pause considerably after each word, that each may be distinctly apprehended ; nothing like swiftness or precipitancy is required here, but a calmness and de- liberation suited to the sense of the text ; but, in the following passage from Romans, viii. 35, every par- ticular requires a degree of emphasis. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or p^ril, or sword? Nay, in ail these things we are more than conquerors, through him that loved us. Here the members of the sentence, being^interroga- tions beginning with a verb, require the rising inflec- tion approaching to a monotone, with a considerable stress upon each, but particularly on the last, where the voice must slide much higher than on the rest, but each portion in the succeeding beautiful climax must have the falling inflection, except the last at creature. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life ; nor angels, nor princi- p ali ties, nor powers ; nor things present, nor things to come ; nor height nor depth ; nor any other creature, shai! be able td separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. This passage contains five portions of words, each portion, except the last, forming a class of words asso- ciated either by their similitude or oppositipn : each of these classes, except the last, requires the falling inflection, with some degree of emphasis on the last word. The voice must be low, firm, and deliberate, upon the first portion at life, and increase its force, loudness, and elevation, by the smallest degrees ; and in the same inflection on powers, come, and depth ; on creature the voice should adopt the rising inflection, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 215 and then lower its tone deliberately and gradually to the end. Enantiosis. Enantiosis, or Antithesis, is a figure, by which things, very different or contrary, are contrasted or placed together, that they may mutually set off and illustrate each other. Few of the figures of rhetoric derive more beauty from a proper pronunciation than this. The under- standing is not more enlightened by a contrast in the thought, than the ear is gratified by expressing this contrast with a suitable antithesis of the voice. Noth- ing can better illustrate the force and beauty of this figure, than a passage in Sterne's sermon on the house of mourning and the house of feasting, where, de- scribing the house of feasting, he says : When the gay and smiling aspect of things has begun to leave the passages to a man's heart thus thoughtlessly unguarded-— when kind and caressing looks of every object without that can flatter his senses, have conspired with the enemy within to betray him and put him off his defence — when music likewise hath lent her aid, and tried her power upon the passions — when the voice of singing men and the voice of singing women, with the sou id of the viol and the lute, have broke in upon his soul, and in some tender notes have touched the secret springs of rapture — that moment let us dissect and look into his heart — see how vain ! how weak ! how emp f y a -thing- it is! Look through its several recesses — those pure mansions formed for the reception of innocence and virtue — sad spectacle ! behold those fair inhabitants now dispossessed — turned out of their sacred dwellings, to make ro m — for what r 1 — at the best for levity and indiscre- tion — perhaps for folly — it may be for more impure guests, which possi- bly, in so general a riot of the mind and senses, may take occasion to en- ter unsuspected at the same time. In pronouncing this passage, the voice ought to as- sume a plaintive tone approaching to a monotone, and proceed in this manner till it comes to the springs of 216 RHETORICAL GRAMMA. rapture, when the former of these words is to have the falling and the latter the rising inflection of voice, sliding up to a considerable height ; then the voice must fall suddenly into a low tone, with a severity approaching to indignation, at the really wretched state of the heart, under the disguise of so much seem- ing happiness. This sudden alteration of the voice from high and plaintive to low and indignant, will won- derfully set off the contrast in the description, and give double energy and beauty to the thought. We have another instance of this beautiful figure in Shippen's speech, in Chandler's Parliamentary Debates, where he shows the inefficaey of honest counsel, when once vice and luxury have gained the ascendant in a state. If there are in this new parliament any men devoted to their private in- terest, and who prefer the gratification of their passions to the safety and happiness of their country, who can riot without remorse in the plunder of their constituents, who can forget the anguish of guilt in the noise of a feast, the pomp of a drawing-room, or the glare of an equipage, and think expensive wickedness and the gaieties of folly equivalent to the fair fame of fidelity and the peace of virtue — to them I shall speak to no purpose; for I am far from imagining any power in my words to gam those to truth who have resigned their hearts to avarice or ambition, or to prevail upon men to change opinions, which they have indeed never believed, though they are hired to assert them. For there is a degree of wicked- ness which no reproof or argument can reclaim, as there is a degree of stupidity which no instruction can enlighten. Chandler's Parliamentary Debates. 1741. In pronouncing this passage, we must begin the first part in a plaintive tone of voice, and continue this tone till the word virtue ; here the voice must be suspended some time in the rising inflection, after which it must drop into a low solemn tone on to them, &e. — this tone must continue nearly till the end, when, at For there is, &c. to this tone must be added a degree RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 2l7 of asperity and indignation, with which the passage must close. There are certain examples of this figure, where, though the words and thoughts are opposed to each other, they are in so small portions, and succeed each other so rapidly, that it would have the appearance of affectation to endeavour to make any great differ- ence in pronouncing them. Thus Cicero, speaking of Pompey, says : He waged more wars than others had read : conquered more provinces than others had governed : and had been trained up from his youth to the art of war ; not by the precepts of others, but by his own commands ; not by miscarriages in the field, but by victories ; not by campaings, but by triumphs. Pro. Leg. Man. c. x. In pronouncing this passage, the opposing parts ought to have no more diversity than what is requir- ed by the harmony of the sentence ; but, in order to show the contrasted parts distinctly, it will not be im- proper to make a longer pause between them than if there were no opposition in the sense ; a pause of some length at wars, provinces, others, and field, will be quite sufficient to show the antithesis in the thought. The same observations are applicable to another passage of Cicero, where, opposing the conduct of Verres, when governor of Sicily, to that of Marcellus. who took Syracuse, the capital of that island, he says, Compare this peace, with that war ; the arrival of this governor, with the victory of that general; his profligate troops, with the invincible army of the other ; the luxury of the former, with the temperance of the latter : you will say that Syracuse was founded by him who took it, and taken by him who held it when founded. » In pronouncing this passage, it will be necessary to make a considerable pause between each opposing part: and this, with the emphasis that naturally falls 218 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. on these parts, will sufficiently diversify them to the ear. There are other instances where, though the con- trasted parts consist but of few words, they require, in pronouncing them, a diversity of voice. Thus in Blair's Sermon on Gentleness : As there is a worldly happiness which God perceives to be no more than disguised misery ; as there are worldJy honours which in his estima- tion are reproach ; so there is a worldly wisdom which in his sight is foolishness. Of this worldly wisdom the characters are g;ven in the Scriptures, and placed in contrast with those of the wisdom which is from above. The one is the wisdom of the crafty ; the other, that of the upright : the one terminates in selfishness ; the other in charity : the one is full of strife and bitter envyings ; the other of mercy and of good fruits. The first principal constructive part of the first sen- tence of this passage must be pronounced in a some- what elevated tone of voice, and end with the rising inflection at reproach ; then, after a pause, the voice must drop into a somewhat lower tone, with which the last member must be pronounced. The opposing parts in the rest of the passage must be pronounced so as to pause after The one, &c. and give the first mem- bers a higher tone, ending with the rising inflection on crafty, selfishness, and envyings ; then, after a pause, the last member must be pronounced in a somewhat lower tone, and end with the falling inflection. ParaMpsis. Paralepsis, or Omission, is a figure by which the orator pretends to conceal or pass by what he really means to declare and strongly to enforce. Whatever we seem to give up, as a matter of small consequence, we generally pronounce in a higher and RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 219 softer tone of voice than the rest : this is accompanied with an air of indifference that seems to make light of what we mention, and this indifference generally leads us to end the particulars with the suspension of voice, properly called the rising inflection. Thus Cicero, in his defence of Sextius, introduces his character in the following manner, with a design of recommending him to the favour of the judges : I might say many tilings of his liberality, kindness to his domestics, his command in the army, and moderation during his office in the province ; but the honour of the state presents itself to my view, and calling me to it, advises me to omit these lesser matters. The first part of this sentence should be spoken in a soft high tone of voice, with an air of indifference, as if waving the advantages arising from his client's char- acter ; but the latter part assumes a lower and firmer tone, which greatly enforces and sets off the former. The same observations hold good in the pronuncia- tion of the following passage of his oration against Rullus, who had proposed a law to sell the public lands : I do not complain of the diminution of our revenues, and the woful ef- fects of this loss and damage. I omit what ma)^ give every one occasion for a very grievous and just complaint, that we could not preserve the principal estates of the public, the finest possession of the Roman people, the fund of our provisions, the granary of our wants, a revenue entrusted with the state ; but that we must give up those lands to Rullus, which, after the power of Sylla, and the largesses of the Gracchi, are yet left us ; I do not say, this is now the only revenue of the state, which continues when others cease ; is an ornament in peace, fails us not in war, supports the army, and does not fear an enemy. I pass over all these things, and reserve them for my discourse to the people, and only speak at present of the danger of our peace and liberties. Every member of this sentence, where there is a pause, must be pronounced with the rising inflection, commonly called a suspension of voice 5 the whole 28 220 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. must have an air of indifference, except the two or three last members, where the voice must fall into a lower and firmer tone at and reserve them, and continue in this tone to the end. Anacoenosis. Anacoenosis, or Communication, is a figure by which the speaker applies to his hearers or opponents for their opinion upon the point in debate. Thus Cicero, in his Oration for Csecina, appeals to Piso : Suppose, Piso, that any person had driven you from your house by violence, how would you have behaved ? A similar appeal he makes use of in his Oration for Rabirius. But what could you have done in such a case, and at such a juncture f — when to have sat still, or to have withdrawn, would have been coward- ice ; when the wickedness and fury of Saturninus had sent for you into the capital, and the consuls had called you to protect the safety and lib- erty of your country ? Whose authorivi , whose voice, which party would you have followed ? and whose orders would you have cliosen to obey ? " This figure/' says an ingenious author, " has something of the air of conversation ; and though public discourses ought not to be turned into mere conversation, yet a proper and decent mixture of such a sort of freedom entertains our hearers, both on ac- count of its variety, and its apparent condescension and good nature." Gibbon *s Rhetoric, p. 166. From the account we have given of this figure, it is sufficiently plain that it ought to be pronounced in an easy, familiar, middle tone of voice ; without passion, and with such a frankness and openness of manner, as if we were fully satisfied of the justice of our cause, and venture it to be decided on the common princi- ples of reason and equity. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 221 We have a shining example of this figure in the speech of the Lord Chief Justice to King Henry the Fifth, to excuse himself for committing him to prison for striking him in the execution of his office, when he was Prince of Wales. I then did use the person of vour father ; The image of his power lay then in me ; And in the admin 'Stration of his law, While 1 was busy for the commonwealth. Your highness pleased to forget my place, The majesty and pow'r of law and justice, The image of the king whom I presented, And struck me in the very seat of judgment ; Whereon, as an offender to your father, I gave bold way to my authority, And did commit you. If the deed were ill, Be you contented, wearing now the garland, To have a son set your decrees at nought, To pluck down justice from your awful bench, To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword That guards the peace and safety of your person,— Nay more, to spurn at your most royal image, And mock your working in a second body. Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours ; Be now the father, and propose a son ; Hear your own dignity so much profan'd ; See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted ; Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd ; And then imagine me taking your part, And in your pow'r so silencing your son. After this cold consid'rance, sentence me ; And, as you are a king, speak in your state What I have done that misbecame my place, My person, or my liege's sovereignty. The pronunciation of this speech will derive its greatest beauty from an attention to the anacoenosis, beginning at the eleventh line. The preceding lines must paint the dignity of the office, the atrocity of the blow, and the courage and resolution of the commit- ment ; but the succeeding lines must assume a differ- 222 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. ent style; they must begin by a frankness of manner approaching to indifference, but gradually assume a dignity, as they begin to describe objects of power, authority, and grandeur. An easy and almost indif- ferent manner takes place again at Question your roy- al thoughts ; but this manner, as in the preceding part, naturally slides into one more dignified at Hear your own dignity so much profaned, &c. — but at the lines And then imagine me, &c. — the voice again assumes the plain, open, frank, indifferent tone, till the concluding lines, After this cold consid?rance, &c. when the voice assumes a firmer tone, to indicate a consciousness of the justice of the cause, and a confidence in the up- rightness of the determination. Hypotyposis, Hypotyposis, or Lively Description, is a representation of things in such strong and glowing colours, as to make them seem painted or transacted to the hearer's imagination. This is the definition of the hypotyposis, which we find in most of our books of rhetoric : but if the defi- nition of a figure, which has been given at the beginning of this part of the present work, be a just one, de- scription is no more entitled to the appellation of a figure than narration, contemplation, reflection, or any similar expression of the mind. But, though rigor- ously speaking, it may not be a figure of rhetoric, it is a species of writing which deserves a very particu- lar consideration, as it is the subject of delivery ; for there is no part of composition which requires great- er taste and judgment, than that where the descrip- tion of objects is strong and vivid, and where the RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 223 sound seems an echo to the sense. Where the objects are common, and the subject without passion, the pronunciation ought to be plain, simple, and narrative; but where the objects are grand, sublime, and terrific, the delivery ought to assume those emotions which the objects naturally excite. Where we describe pas- sion, our pronunciation must be impassioned, and thus we shall paint or draw a picture as it were of the ob- jects or transactions we delineate. Those who per- ceive the necessity and beauty of this rhetorical colour- ing, and yet want taste and discernment to know where to bestow it, and in what degree, generally overcharge the picture, and give such a caricature as disgusts us more than a total absence of every ornament. Great care therefore must be taken in the delivery of de- scription, that we do not become actors instead of de- scribes, and mimics instead of relaters. Cicero's character of Catiline is a well known in- stance of this figure. He had the appearance of ihe greatest virtues ; he made use of many ill men to carry on his designs, and pretended to be in the interest of the best men ; he had a very engaging" behaviour, and did not want industry or application ; he gave into the greatest dissoluteness, but was a good soldier. Nor do I believe there ever was the like monster in the world, made up of such jarring and repugnant qualities and inclinations. Who at one time was more acceptable to the best men, and who more intimate with the worst ? Who was once a better patriot, and who a greater ene- my to this state ? Who more devoted to pleasures, who more patient in labours ? Who more rapacious, and yet more profuse ? He suited himself to the humours of all he conversed with ; was serious with the reserved, and pleasant with the jocose ; grave with the aged, and facetious with the young ; bold with the daring, and extravagant with the profligate. This description of Catiline, though uncommonly strong and animated, contains no striking imagery, no objects of terrour or surprise, no traits of passion or emotion, and therefore requires nothing in the pro- £24 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. nunciation but a plainness and distinctness; long pauses between the contrasted parts, and a somewhat higher tone of voice in the former than the latter, in order the better to show the opposition : thus the clause, Who at one time was more acceptable to the best men, should be pronounced in a more elevated tone than, and who more intimate with the worst? and so of the rest. But in his description of the behaviour of Verres to a Roman citizen in the island of Sicily, we must ac- company the words with every passion excited by the objects, or we shall deprive the passage of its greatest force and beauty. The unhappy man, arrested as he was going" to embark for his native country, is brought before the wicked praetor. With eyes darting fury, and a countenance distorted with crueity, he orders the helpless victim of his rage to be stripped, and rods to be brought ; accusing him, but without the least shadow of evidence, or even of suspicion, of having come to Sicily as a spy. It was in vain that the unhappy man cried out, -'I am a Roman citizen! I have served under Lucius Pretius, who is now at Panormus, and will attest my innocence !" The blood-thirsty prxtor, deaf to all he could urge in his own defence, orJered the infa- mous punishment to be inflicted. Thus, fathers, was an innocent Roman citizen publicly mangled with scourging, whilst the only words he utter- ed, amidst his cruel sufferings, were, " 1 am a Roman citizen !" With these he hoped to defend himself from violence and infamy ; but of so little service was this privilege to him, that, while he was thus asserting his citizenship, the order was giving for his execution upon the cross ! The beginning of this passage should be accom- panied with pity, and something of the dismay of a person under the unhappy circumstances described. The description of the prsetor should have a tincture of that fierceness in it which is so strongly marked. It was in vain the unhappy man cried out, I am a Ro- man citizen ! &c. should be pronounced in a loud, com- plaining tone 5 and at The blood-thirsty prcetor, the RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 225 voice must again assume a tincture of the fierce. The address to the judges should be pronounced in a low- er and more tranquil tone, partaking strongly of the grief such a scene must excite in every generous breast ; and the conclusion, for his execution upon the cross, must be accompanied with a low, hoarse tone of voice, expressive of that horror every Roman must feel to have a citizen suffer a death destined to the meanest slaves. How little did the orator suspect that this death, the ignominy of which seems to make him shudder, was soon to become the joy and exulta- tion of the world ! Instances of the hypotyposis in verse are innumer- able. Description seems the province of poetry. The scenery of nature naturally inspires us with num* bers, and these numbers heighten and embellish the beauties of nature. What can be more beautiful than the picture of a country life drawn by Virgil, and copied by Dryden. Here easy quiet, a secure retreat, A harmless life, that knows not how to cheat, "With home-bred plenty the rich owner bless, And rural pleasures crown his happiness. Unvex'd With quarrels, undisturb'd with noise, T ie country king his peaceful realm enjoys ; Cool grots and living lakes, the flow'ry pride Of mends, and streams that through the valley glide ; And sh»dy groves, that easy sleep invite, And, after toilsome days, a sweet repose at night. Ge.org. b. ii. v. 467. This passage presents us with no sounding epithets, no animated strokes of passion ; but a judicious read- er will not therefore suppose it devoid of expression : he will consider the disposition such a scene would excite in the mind, and accompany his pronunciation 226 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. with such tones as express this disposition. The tranquillity of this scene, therefore, must b*e expressed by a soft, easy tone bordering on the plaintive ; it ad- mits of little or no variety, except dwelling a little long- er than common on the word cool, the sound of which, it is presumed, is somewhat expressive of the sense. Milton's description of rural solitude is a master- piece of this kind. And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beam?, me, goddess, bring To arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown that sylvan loves, Of pine or monumental oak, Where the rude axe, w : th heaved stroke, Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, Or frig-lit them from their hallow'd haunt ; There in close covert, by some brook. Where no profaner eye may look, Hide me from day's, garish eye, While the bee, with honey 'd thigh, That at her flow'ry work doth sing, And the waters murmuring, With such concert as they keep, Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep. 77 Penseroso. The first line, and as far of the second as to beams, must be pronounced in a tone expressive of splendour ; the succeeding part of the line, and what follows it, must assume a cool, tranquil tone as far as haunt ; then the voice must fall into a lower tone approaching to a monotone, and proceed softly and slowly to the end. The description of a lady's toilet, in Pope's Rape of the Lock, is superlatively fine. And now unveil'd the toilet stands display'd, Each silver vase in mystic order laid First rob'd in white, the nymph intent adores, With head uncover'd, the cosmetic pow'rs : A heav'nly image in the glass appears, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 227 To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears. Th' inferior priestess, at her altar's side, Trembling begins the sacred rites of pride. Unnumber'd treasures ope at once, and here The various off'rings of the world appear. From each she nicely culls with curious toil, And decks the goddess with the glitt'ring spoil ; This casket India's glowing gems unlocks, And all Arabia breathes from yonder box ; The tortoise here and elephant unite, Transform'd to combs, the speckled and the white. Here files of pins extend their shining rows, Puffs, powders, patches, bibles, billet-doux. Now awful beauty puts on all its arms, The fair each moment rises in her charms, Repairs her smiles, awakens every grace, And calls forth all the wonders of her face t Sees by degrees a purer blush arise, And keener lightning quicken in her eyes. The busy sylphs surround their darling care : These set the head, and those divide the hair ; Some fold the sleeve, while others plait the gown ; * And Betty's prais'd for labours not her own. This passage requires no great variety of voice^ but admits of considerable variety of expression ; and, as the style is mock-heroic, this expression may be much stronger than if the composition were simple and unaffected. A dignity, solemnity, and importance of voice and manner must describe the toilet and the nymph's approach to it, in the first six lines ; but the fourth couplet must be expressive of the dread and caution with which a timid servant assists a haughty beauty. The succeeding couplet must have all the splendour of pronunciation intimated by its objects, and the next two lines must abate of this splendour, to express the curious toil with which each is cul T led. The next four lines are to be as splendid and glowing as possible. The files of pins must shine 29 228 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. with great dignity and importance, while the several articles of the next line must be pronounced simply and without ornament ; but the succeeding couplet has an awfulness and dignity approaching to devotion : the next four lines abate of this dignity, to express rapture and surprise at such sudden and increasing flashes of beauty ; while the four last lines descend to an expres- sion of alertness and activity, concluding with a com- placency and satisfied at having so well performed the important task. Under the figure called hypotyposis may be class- ed such words as are naturally descriptive of the things they signify; that is, such words as either from the softness or harshness, length or shortness, of the letters of which they are composed, are expressive of the nature of the objects for which they stand; or, as Pope has happily expressed it, words, the sound of which is an echo to the sense. The occasional coincidence of the sound and sense of words has been an object of attention with all writers, both ancient and modern, and those must be severe critics indeed who deny the propriety and beauty of this coincidence. It must be confessed that the affectation of this, like every other affectation, is truly disgusting; but proves, at the same time, that when this coincidence of sound and sense is natural and unaffected, it is really an excel- lence : for though defects are sometimes the objects of imitation, they are not imitated as defects, but be- cause they happen to be associated with some beau- ties which the imitator is unable to represent. That there is much of imagination in this imitation of the sense by the sound of words, must be allowed. A judicious critic has very justly observed, that it most RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 229 frequently exists only in the fancy of the writer or reader, and that the words we often suppose to echo the sense have no other resemblance than what arises from association.* But whence can arise the very general opinion that so many words are really expres- sive of the sense they stand for? It must be from their being generally accompanied by a certain emo- tion of mind, which the meaning of the words excite ; and this emotion of mind being constantly associated with the words, the very sound of the words, accord- ing to the laws of association, seems tinctured with the emotion, which naturally it has no relation to. This, however, sufficiently shows how natural it is for man to accompany his words with emotions, and to expect emotions when he sees the words that gene- rally accompany them. Hence we may infer this gen- eral rule, that wherever there are words expressive of emotions, we ought to pronounce these words with the emotions they signify ; that is, when the language is impassioned, and the words are not merely narra- tive or didactic ; for in this case the words expressive of passion are to be pronounced as coolly, as if they stood for the most uninteresting objects. Thus in Pope's Essay on Man : Love, hope, and joy, fair Pleasure's smiling train ; Hate, fear, and grief, the family of Pain ; These mix'd with art, and to due bounds confin'd, Make and maintain the balance of the mind. It would border greatly on affectation to give the first line of this passage any distinct and marking ex- pression of love, hope, and joy ; or the second line any strong expression of hate, fear, and grief; be- cause these passions are presented to the mind in a * Rambler, No. 93. 230 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. philosophic view, and only mentioned as the materials of argument : but in the following passage from the same poet : Curs'd be the verse, how well soe'er it flow, That tends to make one worthy man my foe, Give virtue scandal, innocence a fear, Or from the soft-ey'd virgin steal a tear. The first line in this passage, I say, must be pro- nounced with all that keenness of resentment we natu- rally feel at injuries done to a worthy character : the second line must have a tincture of approbation on the word worthy, to express that character ; and the third and fourth lines must assume somewhat of the plaintive, as they naturally excite pity for amiable characters in distress. But though the words themselves frequently direct us to the passion we ought to express, it must be carefully observed, that there is often a master passion, which so swallows up the rest, that whatever passions or emotions are mentioned by this leading passion, they have scarcely any expression of their own, but seem to fall into the general expression of the passion that is principal. Thus when the duke of York, after describing the entry of Bolingbroke, gives an account of that of king Richard, he says, As in a theatre, the eyes of man, After a well grac'd actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him who enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious ; Ev'n so or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard ; no man cried, God save him ! No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home, But dust was thrown upon his sacred head, Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off*, (His face still combating with tears and smiles, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 231 The badges of his grief and patience) That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd The hearts of man, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him. But heaven hath a hand in these events ; * To whose high will we bound our calm contents. Shakspeare'g Richard II. In this passage the prevailing passions are grief and pity ; these must so possess the speaker, in recit- ing these lines, that no expression of contempt must accompany that word in the fifth line, nor the least glimpse of joy or acclamation the lines that follow : a slight expression of meekness may accompany the word gentle in the ninth line, and the two last lines may with great propriety be a little diversified from the rest, by dropping in some measure the sorrowful, and assuming the tone of reverence and resignation. Having premised these restrictions, it may be ob- served, that there are some words which afford a speaker a good opportunity of showing his expression by the very nature of the letters of which they are composed. Thus the word all has a full, bold, open sound, which will admit of being dwelt upon longer than common, especially if the language is animated ; either when emphatical, as in Satan's speech to Beel- zebub, in Paradise Lost, What though the field be lost, All is not lost : or as narrative, in the exordium to the first book : Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, and all our wo, With loss of Eden, till one greater man Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, Sing, heav'nly muse. — 232 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. . In these instances, as in most others, we seldom hear the word all pronounced sufficiently full, and ex- pressive of the extent of its signification. The word shame will generally admit of being dwelt on in the same manner, as in the following example : Strong and weighty, O Catiline ! is the decree of the senate we can now produce against you ; neither is wisdom wanting in this state, nor authority in this assembly ; but we, let me here take shame to myself, we, the consuls, are wanting in our duty. Cicero against Catiline, Oration i. The word detestable is seldom used but when the language is animated, and then an uncommon force upon the accented syllable test, that is, as Shakspeare calls it, in his picture of anger, "holding hard the breath, and pronouncing it through the fixed teeth," will give it an expression of detestation very suitable to the idea it excites. This manner of pronouncing may be supposed to be what Shakspeare meant in Hamlet's advice to the players, by " suiting the ac- tion to the word and the word to the action." The actor cannot suit the word to the action any other way than by pronouncing it. Thus where Cassius, in Julius Csesar, decribes Caesar and himself plunging into the Tyber, Upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, And bade him follow ; so indeed he did. We may with the utmost propriety give a down- ward plunge with the arm, to express the action im- plied hj the word, and I think as properly accompany this word and action with a full, deep, hollow, forci- ble tone of voice as suitable to the action ; this, if overdone, or come tardy off, as Shakspeare expresses it, I own is truly disgusting : but let those who dis- suade youth from attempting expression, by reminding RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 233 them of the hazard they run, remember, that every excellence borders close upon a blemish ; but that unless we risk these blemishes, we can never hope to arrive at excellence. Vision. Vision is a representation of things distant and un- seen, as if they were actually present. This is so nearly related to the foregoing figure, as to be often confounded with it ; but there seems to be at bottom as much difference between this figure, where the speaker sees the object or transaction, and the hy po- lyposis, where he only describes them, as there is be- tween a painting and an original. This is certain; vision requires a much more animated pronunciation than description : in the former, the passions are ex- cited by the sight of the objects themselves ; in the latter, only by the remembrance of them. Vision, therefore, is a figure which is never employed, but when the composition is highly impassioned, and the writer becomes a species of actor. Accordingly, we seldom find it employed in prose : it is among the poets we must look for instances ; nor are they to be very frequently found even here ; for we must not look upon such examples as are generally brought of this figure as real instances of it : this figure is never gen- uine but when the writer supposes he actually sees the objects he describes ; so that however strong and glow- ing description may be, yet without this circumstance it is not a true example of the figure in question. Pope has given us a striking instance of this figure in the beginning of his Elegy to the memory of an unfortunate Ladv. 234 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. What beck'ning ghost, along the moonlight shade, Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade ? 'Tis she — but why that bleeding bosom gor'd ? Why dimly gleams the visionary sword ? O ever beauteous, ever friendly, tell, Is it in heav'n a crime to love too well ? To bear too tender, or too firm a heart, To act a lover's, or a Roman's part ? Is there no bright reversion in the sky For those who greatly think or bravely die ? No composition can require a more animated pro- nunciation than this passage : if the reader does not repeat it nearly as if he saw a ghost beckoning to him, he cannot be said to deliver it properly ; the words would contradict the action. Whether an elegy may with propriety begin with so much fire is a question I leave others to decide 5 but if so much lire be as- sumed in the writing, it ought undoubtedly to be ex- pressed in the speaking. The truth is, Pope's per- sonal regard for the subject of this elegy, and his feel- ings for her unhappy fate, seem to have carried him beyond his usual accuracy in composition, as well as his delicacy of moral sentiments. For what can ex- cuse his reproach of heaven for disapproving of suicide, and his apology for this atrocious crime, by treating those as mean spirited wretches who dare not be guilty of it?* What is remarkable too is, that the lines in which these sentiments are conveyed are as feeble and * Why bade ye elsr, ye pow'rs ! her soul aspire Above the vulgar flight of low desire ? Ambition first sprung from your blest abodes, The glorious fault of angels and of gods : Thence to their images on earth it flows, And in the breasts of kings and heroes glows. Most souls, 'tis true, peep out but once an age, Dull, sullen pris'ners in the body's cage ; Dim lights of life, that burn a length of years Useless, unseen, like lamps in sepulchres ; Like eastern kings, a lazy statediiey keep, And close confined to their own palace sleep. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 235 childish as the sentiments are shocking; hut when the poet descends from this impious flight at heaven, and describes the truly pitiable view of an amiable object driven to an act of desperation, and of the for- lorn and neglected state of her poor remains in a foreign clime — then we feel all the magic of his pen — we sympathize with the object of his pity, and are transported to the very spot where she lies numbered with the un honoured dead. These beauties are so bewitching as to make us forget the former part of the elegy, which, if united with lines less enchanting, would have startled us with their falsehood and perni- cious tendency. But, to quit this digression, (which it is hoped will be pardoned for the sake of unexperi- enced youth, to whom it may be useful,) we ought to pronounce the two first lines of this passage with a strong expression of surprise, mixed with some degree of fear, — -the voice assuming a high and soft tone. 'Tis she must be pronounced with a suddenness ex- pressive of joy at having discovered a lost, loved ob- ject; and the rest of the passage must assume the plaintive, with the voice in the rising inflection at the end of every second line. Shakspeare's description of Dover cliff is a beauti- ful instance of this figure ; for it is not the description of a thing past or absent, but as actually present to the speaker. Come on, sir, here's the place — stand still. How dreadful And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low ! The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles Half way down IJang-s one that gathers samphire ; dreadful trade ! Methinks he seems no bigger than his head ! Tlte fishermen that walk upon the beach Appear like mice ; and yon tall anchoring bark 30 236. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Diminish'd to her cock ; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight. The murm'ring surge, That on the unnumber'd pebbles idly chafes, Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no mote, Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong. Shakspearts King Lear. This description commences, after a long pause, in a low tone of voice, expressive of surprise and fear, at How dreadful, &c. The crows and choughs, &c. must have more of surprise and less of fear, and be in a somewhat higher tone of voice. The next sen- tence assumes a lower tone, with more of fear, especially on the exclamation dreadful trade ! The succeeding sentences have a little lighter tone of voice, and more of surprise, with a very considerable pause after each, as if the speaker took some time to consider the object before he described it. The last sentence concludes in a lower tone, expressive of uneasiness at the conse- quences of continuing any longer on so dreadful a preci* pice. Simile. This figure may be justly esteemed one of the most useful lights and greatest ornaments of composition. In prose it greatly clears and enforces a thought, and in poetry wonderfully enlivens and embellishes it. Little can be said respecting the pronunciation of this figure when in prose, only it may be remarked, that it generally admits of a longer pause than ordinary before it, that the reader may be prepared for the transition. Thus in Cicero's first oration against Catiline : If, in so dangerous a rebellion, this parricide alone should be extermin- ated, we may perhaps for a short time seem to be relieved from anxiety and terror ; but the danger will remain, and will be wholly shut up in RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 237 the veins and bowels of the commonwealth. As men grievously sick, when they are in the burning- heat of a raging fever, upon taking a draught of cold water, seem at first to be refreshed by it, but afterwards are more heavily and violently attacked by their distemper ; in like manner this disease, under which the republic labours, will gain a respite by the extinction of Catiline, but will afterwards, as the rest of his accomplices still survive, return upon us with redoubled fury. The simile in this passage has nothing in it that requires a pronunciation different from the rest ; but in poetry this figure always admits of being pronounc- ed in a lower tone of voice than the preceding lines ; and this tone generally falls into the plaintive, and ap- proaches to a monotone. For as the mind in forming a simile is seldom agitated with any very strong pas- sion, that tone of voice which expresses serene, tran- quil contemplation seems to be the tone suitable to the simile ; and this, if I am not mistaken, will be found to be the plaintive tone, approaching to a mono- tone. Not that this monotone is to be continued through the whole simile : if it does but commence with a monotone, it may slide gradually into such a diversity of inflection as the sense seems to require. So in that beautiful simile in ParnePs Hermit, where a pious mind agitated with doubts is compared to a oalm lake disturbed by a falling stone. A life so sacred, such serene repose, Seem'd heaven itself, till one suggestion rose. — That vice should triumph, virtue vice obey ; — This sprung some doubt of Providence's sway. So when a smooth expanse receives impress'd Calm nature's image on its wat'ry breast, Down bend the banks, the trees depending grow, And skies beneath with ansvv'ring colours glow ; But if a stone the gentle sea divide, Swift ruffling circles curl on every side ; And glimm'ring fragments of a broken sun, Banks, trees, and skies in thick disorder run. 238 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. In reading this simile, the voice should fall into a plaintive monotone at So when a smooth expanse, and continue this tone till the words watfry breast, the first of which must have the falling, and the last the rising inflection. The next couplet must he pronounc- ed differently, that is, the rising inflection on grow, and the falling on glow, to express the portion of per- fect sense it includes. The rest of the simile must be pronounced with considerable variety ; the voice must assume a brisker, swifter tone, and the inflections must be various, to express the variety of objects thrown together on a sudden. ' But in the following simile, from the same beautiful poem, where the youth shows the hermit the cup he has stolen, the voice must continue in a monotone till the last member, and looks ivithfear, which must end with the rising inflection : Then pleas'd and thankful from the porch they go, And, but the landlord, none had cause of wo : His cup was vanish'd ; for, in secret guise, The younger guest purloin'd the glittering prize. As one who spies a serpent in his way, Glist'ning and basking in the summer r?.y, Disorder'd stops, to shun the danger near, Then walks with faintness on, and looks with fear, — So seem'd the sire, when, far upon the road, The shining spoil his wily partner show'd. The same observations may be applied to a simile in a beautiful poem, called The Shipwreck, canto ii. v. 175: While o'er the foam the ship impetuous flies, Th' attentive pilot still the helm applies : A&in pursuit along the aerial way, With ardent eye the falcon marks his prey, Each motion watches of the doubtful chase, Obliquely wheeling through the liquid space ,; So govern'd by the steersman's glowing hands, The regent helm her motion still commands. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 239 Here the voice falls into a lower tone at the third line, and continues this tone to the end of the fourth, which concludes with the rising inflection : the next couplet requires exactly the same tone of voice, but must have the rising inflection in a somewhat higher tone on space, when, after a long pause, the voice be- gins the last couplet in a higher tone than the two preceding ones, and admits of a variety of inflection on several of its parts. But when in descriptive poetry a simile is introduc ! ed to illustrate some grand or terrible object, the monotone is no less suitable than in placid subjects. This may be illustrated by a passage from the beauti- ful poem last quoted : Rous'd from his trance, he mounts with eyes aghast, When o'er the ship in undulation vast A giant surge down rushes from on high, And fore and aft dissever'd ruins lie ; As when, Britannia's empire to maintain, Great Hawke descends in thunder on the main, Around the brazen voice of battle roars, And fatal lightnings blast the hostile shores ; Beneath the storm their shatter'd navies groan. The trembling deep recoils from zone to zone ; Thus the torn vessel felt th' enormous stroke, The beams beneath the thund'ring deluge broke. In reading this passage the voice ought to fall into a lower tone at the fifth line, and continue nearly in a monotone till thunder on the main, the first of which words must have the falling, and the last the rising inflection: the next couplet assumes the same low monotone, and continues it to hostile shores, which adopt the falling and rising inflections like thunder and main: the succeeding couplet commences and con- tinues the monotone like the last till the two words zone and zone, the first of which has the falling, and 240 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. the last the^ising inflection, in a somewhat higher tone than in the two former lines : but the last couplet, which applies the simile, begins in a high tone of voice, adopts the falling inflection on vessel, and lowers the voice gradually on the last line to the end. Prosopopeia. Prosopopeia, or Personification, is the investing of qualities or things inanimate with the character of persons, or the introducing of dead or absent persons, as if they were alive and present. This is at once one of the boldest and finest figures in rhetoric. Poets are prodigal in their use of this figure, but orators more sparing, as nothing but a degree of enthusiasm can make it appear natural. The general rule for pronouncing this species of figure will be easily con- ceived, when we recollect that, wherever we give language to a character, we must give that language such a pronunciation as is suitable to that character. Thus, when Cicero introduced Milo as speaking to the citizens of Rome : Should he, holding up his bloody sword, cry out, "Attend, I pray, hearken, O citizens ! I have killed Clodius ; by this sword, and by this right hand, 1 have kept off his rage from your throats, which no laws, no courts of judicature could restrain ; it is by my means that justice, equi- ty, laws, liberty, shame, and modesty, remain in the city." — Is it to be feared how the city would bear this declaration ? Is there any one who, in such a case, would not approve and commend it? In pronouncing this passage, we must give the words of Milo all that energy and fire which we suppose would actuate him on such an occasion. The right arm must be lifted up and extended ; the voice loud and elevated, as if speaking to a multitude, and air RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 241 most every word must be emphatical ; a long pause must precede the first question, which must begin in a low tone of voice, and end with the rising inflection ; and as the last question is in opposition to the first, by contrasting approbation with disapprobation, it ought to be pronounced differently, and end with the falling inflection ; according to the rule laid down in the Ele- ments of Elocution. But here a question will naturally arise about the force we are to give to this figure when we only read it. Are we, it will be demanded, to give all the force and energy which we suppose Milo made use of, when we merely read it in Cicero's orations ? Yes, it may be answered, if we read these orations oratorically. But if we read them only to inform our hearers of the subject, without assuming the character of the orator, it is certain that there is no necessity for the same foree as in the rostrum. The character we assume when we take up the book makes all the difference. The pronunciation expected from a gentleman by a small circle of his friends is as different from that of the orator, as the language of the orator is from the chit-chat of conversation ; but if the gentleman should, for the entertainment of his friends, assume the char- acter of the orator, it is then expected that he should give the composition all the force and energy of which it is susceptible, that is, all the force and energy that would become the characters whose words are assum- ed. Thus Milton may be read by a person who forms no pretensions to public notice in a manner very dif- ferently from one who pronounces from the rostrum ; but if Milton be read to the greatest advantage, it must certainly be in the latter, and not the former 242 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. manner ; though it must still be carefully observed, that these two manners differ only in degrees of force ; the tones, inflections, and gesticulations, are essen- tially the same in both. It was observed, in speaking of the Hypotyposis, that there is often a leading passion, which so absorbs the mind of the speaker, as to give every other pas- sion which passes through it a strong tincture of itself. This leading passion may, for the sake of distinction, be called primary, and the other, secondary. Jf we so far forget the primary passion as to assume the secondary entirely, we fall into mimickry, and render our expression, however just in other respects, ridic- ulous. Thus, in the following speech of Hotspur in the first part of Henry the IVth : •For it made me mad To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, And talk so like a waiting- gentlewoman, Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (heav'n save the mark !) And telling me the sovereign'st thing en earth Was spermaceti for an inward bruise ; And that it was great pity, so it was, That villanous saltpetre should be digg'd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd So cowardly ; and but for these vile guns, He would himself have been a soldier. This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, I answer'd indirectly, as I said ; And I beseech )X)u let not his report Come current for an accusation Betwixt, my love and your high majesty. If the hero who pronounces this description were to divest himself of the primary passions, anger and con- tempt, and go so far into the secondary as to assume the character he describes, we might laugh at him as a mimic, but should despise him as a man : — no $ while RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 243 the leading passions, anger and contempt, have prop- er possession of him, they will keep him from a too servile imitation of the object of his resentment ; but that a considerable degree of imitation should be al- lowed in the pronunciation of this passage is not to be disputed. The same observations hold good in pro- nouncing the words of Csesar, in a speech of Cassius, where he is describing that hero under the paroxysms of a fever : 1 did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, Alas ! it cried, give me some drink, Titinius ! As a sick girl Shakspeare's Julius Ccesar. If these words of Caesar, Give me some drink, Titi- nius, were to be pronounced untinctured with that scorn and contempt with which Cassius is overflowing, and the small feeble voice of a sick person were to be perfectly imitated, it would be unworthy the character of Cassius, and fit only for the buffoon in a farce. These observations will lead us to decide in many other cases. There is a beautiful prosopopeia of a hoary- headed swain in Gray's Elegy in a Country Church Yard : For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonouv'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate, If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit should inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, " Oft have we seen him, at the peep of dawn, Brushing wilh hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn," &c. Nothing can be conceived more truly ridiculous, in reading this passage, than quitting the melancholy tone of the relator, and assuming the indifferent and rustic accent of the old swain : and yet no error so- 31 244 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. likely to be mistaken for a beauty by a reader of no taste : while a good reader, without entirely dropping the plaintive tone, will abate it a little, and give it a slight tincture only of the indifference and rusticity of the person introduced. But where the personification is assumed instanta- neously, and does not arise out of any other passion, provided we are reading to the public, it ought to have exactly the same force and energy as in dramatic composition. Thus the sublime rage of Gray's Bard : Ruin seize thee, ruthless king,— Confusion on thy banners wait ! Though fann'd by conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air in idle state, Helm nor hauberk's twisted mail, Nor e'en thy virtues, tyrant, can avail To save thy secret soul from nightly fears, From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears. These lines, I say, demand an elevation of voice, and an expression of the utmost rage and resentment ; but in this expression we must attend more particu- larly to the caution of Shakspeare, " that in the very torrent, tempest, and I may say, whirlwind of our passion, we must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness." The personification of pride, in Pope's Essay on Man, is not preceded by any other passion, and may therefore be allowed a forcible expression. Ask for what end the heavenly bodies shine, Earth for whose use : Pride answers, " 'Tis for mine. For me kind Nature wakes her genial pow'r, Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev'ry ftow'r ; Annual for me the grape, the rose, renew The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew ; For me the mine a thousand treasures brings, For me health gushes from a thousand springs ; RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 245 Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise, My footstool earth, my canopy the skies." This passage admits of a certain splendour in the pronunciation expressive of the ostentation of the speaker, and the riches and grandeur of the objects introduced. Many other figures of rhetoric might be adduced ; but as few of them deserve the appellation, and none seem to have any thing to entitle them to a peculiarity of pronunciation, I shall at present content myself with those I have given, and hope the reader will not find the directions I have added entirely useless. MODULATION AND MANAGEMENT OF THE VOICE. ONE of the most difficult things in reading and speaking, where the subject is varied and impassion- ed, is the modulation and management of the voice : and this perhaps of all the parts of elocution is the least capable of being conveyed by writing ; but gen- eral rules and useful hints may certainly be given, which will put the pupil in a capacity of feeling his own powers, and of improving himself. Such rules and hints we shall endeavour to lay down in as clear and summary a manner as possible. The first object of every speaker's attention is to have a smooth, even, full tone of voice : if nature has not given him such a voice, he must endeavour as much as possible to acquire it : nor ought he to de- spair ; for such is the force of exercise upon the or- gans of speech, as well as every other in the human 24(> RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. body, that constant practice will strengthen the voice in any key we use it to ; that key therefore, which is the most natural, and which we have the greatest oc- casion to use, should be the key which we ought the the most diligently to improve. Every one has a certain pitch of voice, in which he is most easy to himself and most agreeable to oth- ers ; this may be called the natural pitch : this is the pitch in which we converse ; and this must be the basis of every improvement we acquire from art and ex- ercise. In order, therefore, to strengthen this middle tone, we ought to read and speak in this tone as loud as possible, without suffering the voice to rise into a higher key : this, however, is no easy operation : it is not very difficult to be loud in a high tone ; but to be loud and forcible, without raising the voice into a higher key, requires great practice and manage- ment. The best method of acquiring this power of voice is to practise reading and speaking some strong, animated passages in a small room, and to persons placed at as small a distance as possible : for, as we naturally raise our voise to a higher key when we speak to people at a great distance, so we naturally lower our key as those we speak to come nearer: when, therefore, we have no idea of being heard at a distance, the voice will not be so apt to rise into a higher key when we want to be forcible : and conse- quently exerting as much force as we are able in a small room, and to people near us, will tend to swell and strengthen the voice in the middle tone. A good practice on this tone of voice will be such passages as Macbeth's challenge to Banquo's ghost, or any other that are addressed immediately to a person near us. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 247 What man dare I dare : Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, The arm'd rhinoceros, or Hyrcanian tiger ; Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves Shall never tremble. Be alive again, And dare me to the desert with thy sword ; If trembling I inhibit, then protest me 1 The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow ! Unreal mock'ry, hence ! • Instructions for acquiring low Tones of Voice. As few voices are perfect, — those which have a good bottom often wanting a top, and inversely, — care should be taken to improve by practice that part of the voice which is most deficient : for instance ; if we want to gain a bottom, we ought to practise speeches which require exertion, a little below the common pitch ; when we can do this with ease, we may prac- tise them on a little lower note, and so on till we are as low as we desire ; for this purpose, it will be ne- cessary to repeat such passages as require a full, audi- ble tone of voice in a low key : of this kind are those which contain hatred, scorn, or reproach ; such as the following from Shakspeare, where Lady Macbeth re- proaches her husband with want of manliness : O proper stuff! This is the very painting of your fears : This is the air drawn dagger, which you said Led you to Duncan. Oh, these flaws and starts, (Impostors to true fear) would well become A woman's story at a winter's fire, Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself! Why do you make such faces ? When all's done, You look but on a stool. Or when Lady Constance, in King John, reproach- es the duke of Austria with want of courage and spirit : 1 24S KHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Thou slave ! thou wretch ! thou coward ! Thou little valiant, great in villany ! Thou ever strong" upon the stronger side ! Thou fortune's champion, thou dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by To teach thee safety ! Thou art psrjur'd too, And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou, A ramping fool; to brag, and stamp, and sweat, Upon my party ! Thou cold blooded slave, Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side ? Been sworn my soldier ? bidding me depend Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength ? And dost thou now fall over to my foes ? Thou wear a lion's hide ! DofF it for shame, And hang a calf's skin on those recreant limbs. Or where the duke of Suffolk, in Henry the Sixth, curses the objects of his hatred : •Poison be their drink, Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest meat they taste ; Their sweetest shade, a grove of cypress trees! Their sweetest prospect, murd'ring basilisks ! Their softest touch, as smart as lizard : s stings, Their music, frightful as the serpent's hiss ; And boding screech-owls make the concert full ; All the foul terrours of dark-seated hell ! Instructions for acquiring high Tones of Voice. When we would strengthen the voice in a higher note, it will be necessary to practise such passages as reqire a high tone of voice : and if we find the voice grow thin, or approach to a squeak upon the high note, it will be proper to swell the voice a little below this high note, and to give it force and audibilitv, by throwing it into a sameness of tone approaching the monotone. A passage in the oration of Demosthenes on the crown will be an excellent praxis on this tone : What was the part of a faithful citizen ? of a prudent, an active, and Jionest minister ? Was he not to secure Eubcea, as cur defence against RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 249 all attacks by sea ? Was he not to make Boeotia our barrier on the mid- land side ? the cities bordering on Peloponnesus our bulwark on that quarter ? Was he not to attend with due precaution to the importation of corn, that this trade might be protected through all its progress up to our own harbour ? Was he not to cover those districts which we com- manded by seasonable detachments, as the Proconesus, the Chersonesus, and Tenedos ? to exert himself in the assembly for this purpose ? while with equal zeal he laboured to gain others to our interest and alliance, as Byzantium, Abydos, and Euhoea ? Was he not to cut off the best and most important resources of our enemies, and to supply those in which our country was defective ?— -And all this you gained by my counsels and my administration. LelanoVs Demosthenes on the Crown. It will naturally occur to every judicious reader, that this series of questions ought to rise gradually in force as they proceed, and therefore it will be neces- sary to keep the voice under at the beginning ; to which this observation may be added, that as the ris- ing inflection ought to be adopted on each question, the voice will be very apt to get too high near the end ; for which purpose it will be necessary to swell the voice a little below its highest pitch ; and if we cannot rise with ease and clearness on every particu- lar to the last, w T e ought to augment the force on each, that the whole may form a species of climax. Instructions for the Management of the Voice. As the voice naturally slides into a higher tone, when we want to speak louder ; but not so easily into a lower tone, when we would speak more softly : the first care of every reader and speaker ought to be, to acquire a power of lowering the voice when it is got too high. Experience shows us, that we can raise our voice at pleasure to any pitch it is capable of; but the same experience tells us, that it requires infinite art and practice to bring the voice to a lower key 250 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. when it is once raised too high. It ought therefore to be a first principle with all public readers and speakers, rather to begin under the common level of their voice than above it. Every one, therefore, who would acquire a variety of tone in public reading or speaking, must avoid, as the greatest evil, a loud and vociferous beginning; and for this purpose it would be prudent in a reader or speaker to adapt his voice as if only to be heard by the person who is nearest to him : if his voice has natural strength, and the subject any thing im- passioned in it, a higher and louder tone will insensi- bly steal on him ; and his greatest address must be directed to keeping it within bounds. For this pur- pose, it will be frequently necessary for him to recall his voice, as it were, from the extremities of his audi- tory, and direct it to those who are nearest to him. This it will be proper to do almost at the beginning .of every paragraph in reading, and at the introduc- tion of every part of the subject in discourse. Noth- ing will so powerfully work on the voice, as suppos- ing ourselves conversing at different intervals with different parts of the auditory. If, in the course of reading, the voice should slide into a higher tone, and this tone should too often re- cur, care must be taken to throw in a variety, by be- ginning subsequent sentences in a lower tone, and, if the subject will admit of it, in a monotone ; for the monotone, it is presumed, is the most efficacious means of bringing the voice from high to low, and of altering it when it has been too long in the same key. This may appear paradoxical to those who have not studi- ed the subject ; but if every sentence begins high and RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 251 ends low, or inversely, though the sentences singly considered will have a variety, yet, if considered col- lectively, they will have a sameness ; so, by com- mencing sometimes with a monotone, though this mon- otone may have a sameness, yet, as associated with other tones, it will certainly augment the variety. Grand, solemn, awful subjects, admit best of the mon- otone : a beautiful example of this offers itself in Akenside's Pleasures of Imagination, on the power of novelty : What need words To paint its pow'r ? For this the daring youth Breaks from his weeping mother's anxious arms, In foreign climes to rove : the pensive sage, Heedless of sleep or midnight's harmful damp, Hangs o'er the sickly taper ; and untir'd The virgin follows, with enchanted step, The mazes of some wild and wond'rous tale, From morn to eve ; unmindful of her form, Unmindful of the happy dress that stole The wishes of the youth, when ev'ry maid With envy pin'd. Hence finally by night, The village matron, round the blazing hearth, Suspends the infant-audience with her tales, Breathing astonishment ! of witching rhymes, And evil spirits ; of the death.bed call To him who robb'd the widow, and devour'd The orphan's portion; of unquiet souls, Ris'n from the grave to ease the heavy guilt Of deeds in life conceal'd ; of shapes that walk At dead of night, and clank their chains, and wave The torch of hell around the murd'rer's bed. At ev'ry solemn pause the crowd recoil, Gazing each other speechless, and congeal'd With shiv'ring sighs : till, eager for th' event, Around the beldame all erect they hang, Each trembling heart with grateful terrors quell'd. In reading this passage the voice ought to assume a lower tone, approaching to a monotone, at the word 32 252 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. hence, and to continue this tone for about two lines, when the voice will gradually go into a little variety, and slide into a somewhat higher tone ; it must again fall into a lower tone ; and be in a monotone at of shapes that walk at dead of night, &c. and continue in this tone, with very little alteration, to the end of the sentence. The rest of the passage must preserve the lower tone, and be pronounced so as to be in some measure descriptive of those pleasing, anxious terrours, so finely painted by the poet. If we are speaking extempore, and want to lower the voice, we ought, if possible, to introduce some passion that naturally assumes a lower tone, such as scorn, indignation, &c. Let us try to illustrate this by an example : Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come. Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius ; For Cassius is a-weary of the world ; Hated by one he loves, brav'd by his brother, Check'd by a bondsman, all his faults observ'd, Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote, To cast into his teeth. Oh, I could weep My spirit from my eyes ! There is my dagger, And here my naked breast — within, a heart Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold : If that thou need'st a Roman's, take it forth; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart : Strike as thou didst at Csesar ; for I know, When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'dst him better Thau ever thou lov'dst Cassius. Shakspeare's Julius C'cesar. The beginning of this speech naturally carries the voice into a high tone, and, the same passion continu- ing, there is no opportunity of lowering the voice till the eighth line, when indignation at Oh, I could weep my spirit from my eyes naturally throws the voice into a harsh, low tone, and gives it fresh force to pro- nounce the rest of the passage. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 253 Rules for Gesture. It may not perhaps be useless to bestow a few obser- vations on gesture. This part of delivery, though confessedly of such importance among the ancients, is that which is least cultivated among the moderns. The reason of this difference is foreign to the pres- ent purpose : let it suffice that awkward or improper gesture is a greater blemish in reading and speaking, than using none at all ; and that in this part of orato- ry particularly we ought to be more careful to avoid faults than to attain beauties. To descend, however, to a few of those particulars, to which it should seem we ought chiefly to attend — It may first be observed, that in reading much less action is required than in speaking. When we read alone, or to a few persons only in private, we should accustom ourselves to read standing $ the book should be held in the left hand ; we should take our eyes as often as possible from the book, and direct them to those that hear us. The three or four last words at least, of every paragraph, or branch of a subject, should be pronounced with the eye pointed to one of the auditors. When any thing sublime, lofty, or heav- enly, is expressed, the eye and the right hand may be very properly elevated ; and when any thing low, in- ferior, or grovelling, is referred to, the eye and hand may be directed downwards : when any thing distant or extensive is mentioned, the hand may naturally de- scribe the distance or extent; and when conscious virtue, or any heartfelt emotion or tender sentiment occurs, we may clap the hand on the breast exactly over the heart. 254 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. In speaking extempore, we should be sparing of the use of the left hand, which, except in strong emo- tion, may hang easily down the side. The right hand ought to rise, extending from the side, that is, in a direction from left to right, till it is on a line with the hip ; and then to be propelled forwards, with the fin- gers open, and easily and differently curved : the arm should move chiefly from the elbow, the hand seldom be raised higher than the shoulder, and, when it has described its object, or enforced its emphasis, ought to drop lifeless down to the side, ready to commence action afresh. The utmost care must be taken to keep the elbow from inclining to the body, and to let the arms, when not hanging at rest by the side, approach to the position we call akimbo ; we must be cautious too, in all action but such as describes extent or cir- cumference, to keep the hand or lower part of the arm from cutting the perpendicular line that divides the body into right and left ; but above all, we mu^t be careful to let the stroke of the hand which marks force or emphasis, keep exact time with the force of pro- nunciation ; that is, the hand must go down upon the emphatical word, and no other. Thus, in the execra- tion of Brutus, in Julius Caesar : When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts, Dash him to pieces. Here the action of the arm which enforces the em- phasis ought to be so directed, that the stroke of the hand may be given exacly on the word dash; this will give a concomitant action to the organs of pronun- ciation, and by this means the whole expression will RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 255 be greatly augmented. This action may be called beating time to the emphasis, and is as necessary in forcible and harmonious speaking as the agreement between the motion of the feet and the music in danc- ing. Hence we may see the propriety of a common ac- tion in colloquial argumentation, when we wish to en- force ,the particulars of any series ; which is, by striking the table at the end of each particular, in order to impress it on the mind. This is the impulse of unpremeditated feeling, and may be truly called the action of nature ; and if we can but acquire a habit of accompanying a premeditated series with the same action, we shall give it a force and beauty well worthy the attention of the speaker. But this emphatic stroke, as it may be called, must be used with judgment. The hand is to give it only to such members as require the falling inflection of voice, as those which require the rising may be prop- erly accompanied by raising the hand. Thus, in Cicero's oration against Verres : I demand justice of you, fathers, upon the robber of the public treasury the oppressor of Asia Minor and Pamphy N lia, the invader of the rights and privileges of Romans, the scourge and curse of Sicily. Here the hand may very properly enforce the two first members with the downward stroke, but at the third it should rise with the rising inflection, and fall with the falling upon the last. A question, therefore, requiring the rising inflec- tion on each particular, must have each particular, accompanied by a raising of the hand, as in the follow- ing example. 256 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Would an infinitely wise being make such glorious beings for so mean a purpose ? Can he delight in the production of such abortive intelli- gence, such short-lived reasonable beings ? Would he give us talents that are not to be exerted, capacities that are not to be gratified ? Spectator, No. 111. This elevation of the hand on each particular will eertainly mark that suspence and degree of surprise which are inseparable from this species of question, as the downward stroke of the hand accompanying the falling inflection will give it double force and en- ergy. If the student wishes to acquire an easy, unaiFected and regular style of action, he may consult Elements of Gesture, prefixed to the Academic Speaker. Thus has been attempted a regular course of in- struction, which, from the new points of view in which several of the parts have been placed, it is hoped will be found generally useful. Those who wish to enter more fully into this subject, and have leisure and in- clination for philosophical reflections upon it, may consult a work lately published, called Elements of Elocution ; where the nature of accent and emphasis, the variation and modulation of the voice, and the ex- pression of the passions, emotions, and sentiments, are copiously and systematically considered. COMPOSITION. IN a rhetorical grammar, it may be justly expected that composition, which forms so essential a part of rhetoric, should not be entirely omitted : yet so much has been written on this part of the art, and so ably has it fyeen treated both by the ancients and moderns, that I might well excuse myself by referring my read- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 257 ers to Aristotle, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Quintilian, and Cicero, among the former, — and to Blair, Camp- bell, and Priestly, among the latter, — for every thing that learning, genius, and experience, have produced upon the subject. What 1 can offer must be little more than gleanings, after so copious a harvest ; and if even these gleanings should be claimed as the prop- erty of those who have preceded me, I shall willingly forego my claim, and be content to rank in this field as an humble compiler of a few scattered hints, which have occurred to me in a long course of teaching a part of rhetoric which has not been so much laboured by my predecessors. In the first place we must lay down as a maxim of eternal truth, that good sense is the foundation of all good writing. Understand a subject well, and you can scarcely write ill upon it. This, however^ must be understood only of works of science ; for works of imagination, beside a thorough acquaintance with the subject we write upon, require a quick discernment of the happiest manner of presenting a subject to the mind. This opens a wide field to the powers of man, as it takes in all the beauties of poetry and elo- quence, — beauties which, though founded in nature and good sense, owe almost all their force to the im- agination and address of the writer. Rhetoric, or the art of persuasion, therefore, seems to demand a union of both these powers. Good sense must be embellished with appropriate language, vivid imagery, and agreeable variety ; and the imagination must be tempered by good taste, sound judgment, and chaste expression. In short, the rhetorician should above all things attend to the advice of the poet : — 258 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. And mark that point where sense and dulness meet. Pope's Essay on Criticism. The first thing to be attended to in all composition intended for delivery is, when we have fixed upon a subject, to form a plan of treating it. The parts which compose a regular oration are these six ; — the exordium, or introduction ; the state and division of the subject ; the narration, or explica- tion ; the reasoning, or arguments ; the pathetic parts ; and the conclusion. It is not necessary that these must enter into every public discourse, or that they must always be admitted in the order in which they are here set down. There are many excellent dis- courses in which some of these parts are altogether omitted : but as they are the natural and constituent parts of a regular oration, and as in every discourse some of them must occur, it is agreeable to our pres- ent purpose to speak of each of them distinctly. The introduction should be easy and natural : it should always be suggested by the subject ; nor should it be planned till after the writer has meditated in his own mind the substance of his discourse. In short, it should be like the preface to a book, which, though presenting itself first, is generally written last; for which reason I have seen a whimsical writer who plac- ed it at the end instead of the beginning of his work. The introduction is seldom the place for vehemence or passion : the audience must be gradually prepared, before the speaker can venture on strong impassioned sentiments. A becoming modesty, therefore, is al- most essential to the composition as well as the delive- ry of this part of an oration. In dividing a subject, we must be always careful to RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 259 follow the order of nature, beginning with the most simple points, such as are most easily understood and necessary to be first discussed, and proceeding thence to those which are built upon the former, and which suppose them to be known. In short, the subject should be divided into those parts which grow out of each other, and into which they are most naturally and easily dissolved. The narration or explication is that part of an ora- tion which gives the true state of the question, unfolds every particular which belongs to it, and prepares the minds of the hearers to attend to the arguments which are to be produced in favour of the side we adopt. This part of the oration should be simple, nervous, and comprehensive, and the language plain^ precise, and without ornament. The argumentative part of the oration must be con- sidered as the strong bulwark of the rhetorical fortifi- cation The greatest care must be taken to select such arguments as are the best calculated to prove that what we advance is either true, right, or fit, or that it is profitable and good. Truth, duty, and in- terest, are the three great subjects of discussion among mankind. But the arguments employed upon either of them are generally distinct ; and he who mixes them all under one topic, which he calls his argument; as is too frequently done in sermons, will render his reasoning indistinct and inelegant. With respect to the different degrees of strength in arguments, the common as well as the most natural rule is to advance in the way of climax. Nor can I agree with Dr. Blair, or any other rhetorician, that any state of the question will authorize an orator to 33 * 260 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. begin with his strongest argument, and end with his weakest. The last impression is generally what de- cides in popular addresses, and this should be nicely attended to. Besides, when once a point is proved, the multiplying of arguments only tends to weaken it; for it ought to be observed, that a number of weak arguments seldom convince the mind so much as one strong one ; and, therefore, that we ought to be cau- tious how we lay too great stress on little things, as scarcely any thing so much implies a weakness of understanding. A great number of weak reasons ought therefore to be carefully avoided, lest we fall into the fault ridiculed by Pope in his Dunciad : Explain upon a thing 1 till all men doubt it, And write about it, goddess, and about it. When argument and reasoning have produced their full effect, then, and not till then, the pathetic is ad- mitted with the greatest force and propriety. When the subject will admit of the pathetic (for all subjects do not,) a speaker should cautiously avoid giving his hearers warning that he intends to excite their pas- sions ; every previous preparation of this kind chills their sensibility. The orator should steal impercep- tibly upon the feelings of his hearers, and engage their passions before they perceive he is addressing them. To succeed in the pathetic, it is necessary to attend to the proper language of the passions. This, if we consult nature, we shall ever find is unaffected and simple. It may be animated with bold and strong figures, but it will have no ornament or finery. There is a material difference between painting to the imag- ination and to the heart. The one may be done with RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 261 deliberation and coolness ; the other must always be rapid and ardent. In the former, art and labour may be suffered to appear ; in the latter, no proper effect can be produced, unless it seem to be the work of nature only. Hence all digressions should be avoid- ed, which may interrupt or turn aside the swell of passion. Hence comparisons are always dangerous, and commonly quite improper in the midst of the pathetic. It is also to be observed, that emotions which are violent cannot be lasting. The pathetic, therefore, should not be prolonged and extended too much. A due regard should always be preserved to what the audience will bear ; for he that attempts to carry them farther in passion, than they will follow him, annihilates his purpose; by endeavouring to warm them in. the extreme, he takes the surest method of completely freezing them. For the expression of these passions by pronuncia- tion or delivery, the student must be referred to a work, entitled Elements of Elocution, where it is hoped he will find a clearer description of the operation of the passions on the attitude, countenance, gesture, and tone of voice, whether in reading or speaking, than is to be met with in any other work on the subject. Be- sides, what has never before been attempted, he will there find a mechanical process of exciting the passions in the speaker, so necessary to his communicating them to his hearer, according to the rule of Horace : — Si vis me fiere, Dolendum est primum ipse tibi. Concerning the peroration, or conclusion of a dis- course, a few words will be sufficient. Sometimes the whole pathetic part comes in most properly at s the 262 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. conclusion. Sometimes, when the discourse has been- altogether argumentative, it is proper to conclude with summing up the arguments, placing them in one point of view, and leaving the impression of them full and strong on the minds of the hearers. For the principal rule of a conclusion, and what nature obviously sug- gests, is to place that last, on which we choose that the strength of our cause should rest. In every kind of public speaking it is important to Hit the precise time of concluding, so as to bring the discourse just to a point : neither ending abruptly, and unexpectedly, nor disappointing the expectation of the hearers, when they look for the discourse being finished. The close should always be concluded with dignity and spirit, that the minds of the hearers may be left warm, and that they may depart with a favour- able impression of the subject and of the speaker. Having thus adjusted and prepared the several parts of a subject, the next object is the style in which we are to convey it to others. This has been so elaborately and accurately treated by Dr. Blair, that I shall take the same liberty which others have done, of extracting some of his thoughts on this subject, and refer the student in rhetoric to the Doctor's excellent lectures, for a more complete view of whatever is necessary to be known. Style — Perspicuity and Precision. Style is the peculiar manner in which a man ex- presses his conceptions by means of language. It is a picture of the ideas which rise in his mind, and of the order in which they are produced. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 263 The qualities of a good style may be ranked under two heads — perspicuity and ornament. It will readily be admitted, that perspicuity ought to be essentially connected with every kind of writing. Without this the brightest ornaments of style only glimmer through the dark ; and perplex, instead of pleasing the reader. If we are forced to follow a writer with much care, to pause, and to read over his sentences a second time, in order to understand them fully, he will never please us long. Mankind are too indolent to be fond of so much labour. Though they may pretend to admire the au- thor's depth, after having discovered his meaning, they will seldom be inclined to look a second time into his book. The study of perspicuity claims attention, firs, to single words and phrases, and then to the construction of sentences. When considered with respect to words and phrases, it requires these three qualities — purity, propriety, and precision. Purity and propriety of language are often used in- discriminately for each other ; and, indeed, they are very nearly allied. A distinction, however, should be made between them. Purity consists in the use of such words and such constructions as belong to the idiom of the language which we speak, in opposition to those words and phrases which are imported from other languages, or which are obsolete or new coined, or employed without proper authority. Propriety is the choice of such words as the best and most estab- lished usage has appropriated to those ideas which we intend to express by them : it implies their correct and judicious application, in opposition to vulgar or low expressions, and to words and phrases which would ■ 264 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. be less significant of the ideas that we intend to convey. Style may be pure, that is, it may be entirely English, without Scotticisms or Gallicisms, or ungrammatical expressions of i ny kind, and may, notwithstanding, be deficient in propriety. The words may be ill selected ; not adapted to the subject, nor fully expressive of the author's meaning. He has taken them, indeed, from the general mass of English language ; but his choice has been made without happiness or skill. Style, hnw- ever, cannot be proper without being pure : it is the union of purity and propriety, which renders it grace- ful and perspicuous. The exact meaning of* precision may be understood from the etymology of the word. It is derived from " prcecidere" to cut off: it signifies retrenching all superfluities, and pruning the expression in such a manner as to exhibit neither more nor less than an exact copy of his idea who uses it. The words which are employed to express ideas may be faulty in three respects. They may either not ex- press that idea which the author means, but some other which only resembles or is related to it ; or they may express that idea, but not fully and completely ; or they may express it, together with something more than he designs. Precision is opposed to these three faults, but particularly to the last ; into this, feeble writers are very apt to fall. They employ a multitude of words to make themselves understood, as they think, more distinctly ; and they only confound the reader. The image, as they place it before you, is always seen double ; and no double image is distinct. When an author tells us of his hero's courage in the day of bat- tle, the expression is precise, and we understand it RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 265 fully. But if, from a desire of multiplying words, he will praise his courage and fortitude, at the moment he joins these words together, our idea begins to waver. He intends to express one quality more strongly ; but he is, in fact, expressing two. Courage resists danger ; fortitude supports pain. The occasion of exerting each of these qualities is different ; and being induced to think of both together, when only one of them should engage our attention, our view is rendered unsteady, and our conception of the object indistinct. The great source of a loose style, in opposition to precision, is the inaccurate and unhappy use of those words, called synonymous. Scarcely, in any language, are there two words, which express precisely the same idea ; and a person perfectly acquainted with the pro- priety of the language will always be able to observe something, by which they are distinguished. In our language, very many instances might be given of a difference in meaning, among words which are thought to be synonymous ; and as the subject is of importance, we shall point out a few of them. Surprised, astonished, amazed, confounded. We are surprised with what is new or unexpected; we are astonished at what is vast or great ; we are amaz- ed with what we cannot comprehend ; we are con- founded by what is shocking or terrible. Pride, vanity. Pride makes us esteem ourselves ; vanity makes us desire the esteem of others. Haughtiness, disdain. Haughtiness is founded on the high opinion we have of ourselves ; disdain on the low opinion we entertain of others. To weary, to fatigue. The continuance of the same thing wearies us ; labour fatigues us. A man is weary with standing, he is fatigued with walking. 266 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. To abhor, to detest. To abhor, imports, simply, strong dislike ; to detest, imports likewise strong dis- approbation. I abhor being in debt ; I detest treach- ery. To invent, to discover. We invent things which are new ; we discover what has been hidden. Gal- ilseo invented the telescope ; Harvey discovered the circulation of the blood. Entire, complete. A thing is entire, when it wants none of its parts ; complete, when it wants none of the appendages which belong to it. A man may oc- cupy an entire house, though he has not one com- plete apartment. Tranquillity, peace, calm. Tranquillity signifies a situation free from trouble, considered in itself: peace, the same situation, with respect to any causes which might interrupt it; calm, with respect to a disturbed situation going before, or following it. A good man enjoys tranquillity in himself; peace with others ; and calm after the storm. Enough, sufficient. Enough relates to the quantity, which we wish to have of anything. Sufficient re- lates to the use that is to be made of it. Hence, enough commonly signifies a greater quantity than sufficient does. The covetous man never has enough, though he has what is sufficient for nature. These are a few, among many instances of words, in our language, which, by careless writers, are apt to be mistaken for synonymous. The more the dis- tinction in the meaning of such words is weighed and attended to, the more accurately and forcibly shall we speak and write. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 267 Structure of Sentences, A proper construction of sentences is of such im- portance in every species of composition, that we can- not be too strict or minute in our attention to it. For, whatever be the subject, if the sentences be con- structed in a clumsy, perplexed, or feeble manner, it is impossible that a work composed of such periods can be read with pleasure, or even with profit. But, by an attention to the rules which relate to this part of style, we acquire the habit of expressing ourselves with perspicuity and elegance ; and if a disorder hap- pen to arise in some of our sentences, we immediately discover where it lies, and are able to correct it. The properties most essential to a perfect sentence seem to be the four following :■ — 1. Clearness and pre- cision ; 2. Unity ; 3. Strength ; 4. Harmony. Ambiguity is opposed to clearness and precision, and arises from two causes ; either from a wrong choice of words, or a wrong collocation of them. Of the choice of words as far as regards perspicuity, we have already spoken. Of the collocation of them we are now to treat. From the nature of our language, a leading rule in the arrangement of our sentences is, that the words or members most nearly related should be placed in the sentence as near to each other as possible, so as to make their mutual relation clearly appear. This rule is too frequently neglected, even by good writers. A few instances will show both its importance and its application. In the position of adverbs, which are used to quali- fy the signification of something which either precedes or follows them, a good deal of nicety is to be observ- 34 268 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. ed. "By greatness/' says Mr. addison, "I do not only mean the bulk of any single object, but the large- ness of a whole view." Here the situation of the ad- verb only renders it a limitation of the following word, mean. "1 do not only mean." — The question may then be asked, What does he more than mean ? Had it been placed after bulk, still it would have been improperly situated ; for it might then be asked, What is meant besides the bulk ? Is it the colour, or any other property ? Its proper place is certainly after the word object : "By greatness I do not mean the bulk of any single object only ;" for then when it is asked, What does he mean more than the bulk of a single object? the answer comes out precisely as the author intends, u the largeness of a whole view." " Theism," says Lord Shaftesbury, " can only be op- posed to polytheism, or atheism." It may be asked then, Is theism capable of nothing else, except being opposed to polytheism or atheism ? This is what the words literally mean, through the improper colloca- tion of only. He ought to have said, " Theism can be opposed only to polytheism, or atheism." This kind of inaccuracies may have no material inconven- ience in conversation, because the tone and emphasis, used in pronouncing them generally serve to show their reference, and to make the meaning perspicuous : but in writing, where a person speaks to the eye, and not to the ear, he ought- to be more accurate ; and should so connect those adverbs with the words which they qualify, that his meaning cannot be mistaken on the first inspection. When a circumstance is interposed in the middle of a sentence, it sometimes requires art to place it in RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 269 such a manner as to divest it of all ambiguity. For instance, "Are these designs/' says Lord Boling- broke, Dissert, on Parties, Ded. "which any man, who is born a Briton, in any circumstances, in any situation, ought to be ashamed or afraid to avow?" Here we are in doubt, whether the words, «-ih any circumstances, in any situation" are connected with u a man born a Briton, in any circumstances or situ- ation," or with that man's "avowing his designs, in any circumstances, or situation, into which he may be brought." If the latter, as seems most likely, was intended to be the meaning, the arrangement ought to have been in this form : " Are these designs, which any man who is born a Briton ought to be ashamed or afraid, in any circumstanses, in any situ- ation, to avow?" Still more attentive care is requisite to the proper disposition of the relative pronouns, who, which, ivhat, whose ; and of all those particles which express the connexion of the parts of speech with one another. Since all reasoning depends upon this connexion, we cannot be too accurate with regard to it. A trifling errour may obscure the meaning of the whole sen- tence ; and even where the meaning is apparent, yet w r here these relative particles are misplaced, we al- ways find something awkward and disjointed in the structure of the period. The following passage in Bishop Sherlock's Sermons (vol. 2. serm. 15) will exemplify these observations : " It is folly to pretend to arm ourselves against the accidents of life, by heap- ing up treasures, which nothing can protect us against, but the good providence of our Heavenly Father." Which always refers grammatically to the immediate- 270 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. ly preceding substantive, which here is, " treasures/' and this would convert the whole period into nonsense. The sentence should have been thus constructed : " It is folly to pretend, by heaping up treasures, to arm ourselves against the accidents of life, which nothing can protect us against but the good provi- dence of our Heavenly Father." We now proceed to the second quality of a well-ar- ranged sentence, which we termed its unity. This is an indispensable property. The very nature of a sen- tence implies one proposition to be expressed. It may consist, indeed, of parts ; but these parts must be so intimately knit together, as to make the impression upon the mind of one object, not of many. To preserve this unity, we must first observe, that, during the course of the sentence, the scene should be changed as little as possible. There is generally, in every sentence, some person or thing, which is the governing word. This should be continued so, if pos« sible, from the beginning to the end of it. Should a man express himself in this manner : " After we came to anchor, they put me on shore, where I was saluted by all my friends, who received me with the greatest kindness." Here, though the objects are sufficiently connected, yet by this mode of representation, by shift- ing so often the place and the person, we, and they, and /, and who, they appear in such a disunited view, that the sense of connexion is nearly lost. The sen- tence is restored to its proper unity, by constructing it after the following manner : " Having come to an anchor, I was put on shore, where I was saluted by all my friends, who received me with the greatest kind- ness." RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 271 Another rule is, never to crowd into one sentence things which have so little connexion, that they might hear to be divided into two or more sentences. The transgression of this rule never fails to hurt and dis- please a reader. Its eifect, indeed, is so disgusting^ that, of the two, it is the safest extreme, to err rather by too many short sentences, than by one that is over- loaded and confused. The following sentence, from a translation of Plutarch, will justify this opinion : " Their march," says the author, speaking of the Greeks under Alexander, " was through an unculti- vated country, whose savage inhabitants fared hardly, having no other riches than a breed of lean sheep, whose flesh was rank and unsavoury, by reason of their continual feeding upon sea-fish." Here the scene is repeatedly changed. The march of the Greeks, the description of the inhabitants through whose country they passed, the account of their sheep and the reason of their sheep being disagreeable food, make a jumble of objects, slightly related to each other, which the reader cannot, without considerable difficulty, comprehend under one view. Another rule for preserving the unity of sentences is, to keep clear of all parentheses in the middle of them. These may, on some occasions, have a spirited appearance, as prompted by a certain vivacity of thought, which can glance happily aside, as it is go- ing along. But, in general, their effect is extremely bad ; being a perplexed method of disposing of some thought, which a writer has not art enough to intro- duce in its proper place. It is needless to produce any instances, since they occur so frequently among incorrect writers. 272 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. We shall add only one rule more for the unity of a sentence ; which is, to bring it always to a full and perfect close. It need hardly be observed, that an unfinished sentence is no sentence at all, with respect to any of the rules of grammar. But sentences often occur, which are more than finished. When we have arrived at what we expected to be the conclusion ; when we have come to the word on which the mind is naturally led to rest, by what went before ; unexpect- edly some circumstance arises, which ought to have been left out, or to have been disposed of after an- other manner. Thus for, instance, in the following sentence, from Sir William Temple, the adjection to the sentence is entirely foreign to it. Speaking of Burnet's Theory of the Earth, and Fontenelle's Plu- rality of Worlds : " The first," says he, " could not end his learned treatise without a panegyric of mod- ern learning, in comparison of the ancient ; and the other falls so grossly into* the censure of the old poe- try, and preference of the new, that I could not read either of these strains without some indignation ; which no quality among men is so apt to raise in me as self sufficiency." The word " indignation" ought to have concluded the sentence ; for what follows is altogether new, and is added after the proper close. Strength of Sentences. We proceed now to the third quality of a correct sentence, which we called strength. By this is meant, such a disposition of the several words and members as shall exhibit the sense to the best advantage ; as shall render the impression which the period is in- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 273 tended to make most full and complete ; and give every word and every member its due weight and importance. To the production of this effect, perspi- cuity and unity are, no doubt, absolutely necessary ; but they are not of themselves sufficient. For a sen- tence may be obviously clear ; it may also be suffi- ciently compact, or have the required unity ; and yet, by some unfavourable circumstance in the structure, it may be deficient in that strength or liveliness of impression which a more happy collocation would have produced. The first rule that we shall give for promoting the strength of a sentence is, to take from it all redun- dant words. Whatever can be easily supplied in the mind is better omitted in the expression ; thus, u Con- tent with deserving a triumph, he refused the honour of it," is better than to say, " Being content with de- serving a triumph, he refused the honour of it." It is certainly, therefore, one of the most useful exercis- es of correction, on a view of what we have written or composed, to contract that roundabout mode of ex- pression, and to cut off those useless excrescences which are usually found in a first draught. But we must be careful not to run into the opposite extreme, of pruning so closely as to give a hardness and dry- ness to the style. Some leaves must be left to shelter and adorn the fruit. As sentences should be divested of superfluous words, so also they should appear without superfluous mem- bers. In opposition to this, is the fault we so fre- quently meet with, of the last member of a period be- ing no other than the repetition of the former, in a different dress. For example ; speaking of beauty, 274 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. u The very first discovery of it," says Mr. Addison, " strikes the mind with inward joy, and spreads de- light through all its faculties." In this instance, scarcely any thing is added by the second member of the sentence to what was already expressed in the first : and though the elegant style of Mr. Addison may palliate such negligence, yet it is generally true, that language, divested of this prolixity, becomes more strong, as well as more beautiful. The second direction we shall give for promoting the strength of a sentence is, to pay a particular at- tention to the use of copulatives, relatives, and all the particles employed for transition and connexion. Some observations on this subject, which appear to be worthy of particular remembrance, shall here be no- ticed. What is termed splitting of particles, or separating a preposition from the noun which it governs, is ever to be avoided : as if we should say, " Though virtue borrows no assistance from, yet it may often be accom- panied by, the advantages of fortune." In such in- stances, a degree of dissatisfaction arises, from the violent separation of two things which, from their nature, ought to be intimately united. The simplicity of style is much injured by the un- necessary multiplication of relative and demonstra- tive particles : Thus if a writer should say, " There is nothing which disgusts me sooner than the empty pomp of language ;" he would express himself less simply than if he had said, u Nothing disgusts me sooner than the empty pomp of language." The for- mer mode of expression, in the introduction of a sub- ject, or in laying down a proposition to which par- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 275 ticular attention is demandedyis exceedingly proper 5 but in the ordinary current of discourse, the latter is to be preferred. With regard to the omission or insertion of the relative, we shall only observe, that in conversation and epistolary writing, it may be often omitted with propriety ; but in compositions of a serious or digni- fied kind it should constantly be inserted. On the copulative particle and, which occurs so often in all kinds of composition, several observations are to be made. It is evident that the unnecessary repetition of it enfeebles style. By omitting it en- tirely we often mark a closer connexion, a quicker succession of objects, than when it is inserted between them. " Vent, vidi, vici ;" — "I came, I saw, I con- quered ;" expresses with more spirit the rapidity of conquest, than if connecting particles had been used. When, however, we desire to prevent a quick transi- tion from one object to another, and when we are enumerating objects which we wish to appear as dis- tinct from each other as possible, copulatives may be multiplied with peculiar advantage. Thus lord Bo- lingbroke says, with elegance and propriety, " Such a man might fall a victim to power ; but truth, and reason, and liberty, would fall with him." A third rule for promoting the strength of a sen- tence is, to dispose of the principal word, or words, in that place of the sentence where they will make the most striking impression. Perspicuity ought first to be studied ; and the nature of our language allows no extensive liberty in the choice of collocation. In general, the important words are placed in the begin- ning of the sentence. Thus Mr. Addison : "Th« 35 276 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. pleasures of the imagination, taken in their full ex- tent, are not so gross as those of sense, nor so refined as those of the understanding." This order seems to be the most plain and natural. Sometimes, however, when we propose giving weight to a sentence, it is proper to suspend the meaning for a while, and then to bring it out full at the close : " Thus," says Mr. Pope, r on whatever side we contemplate Homer, what principally strikes us is his wonderful invention." A fourth rule for the strength of sentences is, to make the members of them go on rising in their im- portance above one another. This kind of arrange- ment is called a climax, and is ever regarded as a beauty in composition. Why it pleases is sufficiently evident. In all things, we naturally love to advance to what is more and more beautiful, rather than to follow the retrograde order. Having viewed some considerable object, we cannot, without pain, be pul- led back to attend to an inferior circumstance. " Cavendum est" says Quintilian, " ne decrescat ora- tio, et fortiori subjungatur aliquid infirmius" " We must take care that our composition shall not fall off, and that a weaker expression shall not follow one of greater strength." When a sentence consists of two members, the longest should, in general, be the con- cluding one. Hence the pronunciation is rendered more easy ; and the shortest member of the period being placed first, we carry it more readily in our memory as we proceed to the second, and see the con- nexion of the two more clearly. Thus, to say, "When our passions have forsaken us, we flatter ourselves with the belief, that we have forsaken them," is both more graceful and more perspicuous than to RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 277 begin with the longest part of the proposition : u We flatter ourselves with the belief, that we have forsaken our passions, when they have forsaken us." A fifth rule for constructing sentences with proper strength is, to avoid concluding them with an adverb, a preposition, or any insignificant word. By such conclusions, style is always weakened and degraded. Sometimes, indeed, where the stress and significancy rest chiefly upon words of this kind, thy may, with pro- priety, have the principal place allotted them. No fault, for example, can be found with this sentence of Bolingbroke : " In their prosperity, my friends shall never hear of me : in their adversity, always ;' ? where never and always, being emphatical words, are so placed, as to make a strong impression. But when those inferior parts of speech are introduced as circumstan- ces or as qualifications of more important words, they should invariably be disposed of in the least conspicu- ous parts of the period. We should always avoid with care the concluding with any of those particles which distinguish the cases of nouns — of, to, from, with, by. Thus it is much better to say, " Avarice is a crime of which wise men are often guilty," than to say, " Avarice is a crime which wise men are often guilty of." This kind of phraseology all correct writers endeavour sedulously to avoid. Verbs used in a compound sense, with some of these prepositions, are likewise ungraceful conclusions of a period ; such as, bring about, lay hold of, come over to, clear up, and many others of the same kind ; instead of which, if a simple verb can be employed, the sentence is always terminated with more strength, 278 1UIET0KICAL GRAMMAR. Even the pronoun it, especially when joined with some of the prepositions, as, with it, in it, to it, cannot, without a violation of grace, be the conclusion of a sentence. Any phrase which expresses a circum stance only, cannot conclude a sentence without great imperfection, and inelegance. Circumstances are, indeed, like unshapely stones in a building, which try the skill of an artist, where to place them with the least offence. We should carefully avoid crowding too many of them together, but rather intersperse them in different parts of the sentence, joined with the principal words on which they depend. Thus, for instance, when Dean Swift says, "What I had the honour of mentioning to your lordship, sometime ago, in conversation, was not a new thought" — (Let- ter to the Earl of Oxford. ) These two circumstances, sometime ago, and in conversation, which are here joined, would have been better separated thus : " What I had the honour, sometime ago, of mention- ing to your lordship in conversation." The last rule which we shall mention concerning the strength of a sentence is, that in the members of it, where two things are compared or contrasted to one another, where either a resemblance or an oppo- sition is designed to be expressed, some resemblance in the language and construction ought to be observed. The following passage, from Pope's preface to his Homer, beautifully exemplifies the rule we are now giving. " Homer was the greater genius ; Virgil the better artist : in the one, we admire the man ; in the other, the work. Homer hurries us with a command- ing impetuosity; Virgil leads us with an attractive majesty. Homer scatters with a generous profusion ; RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, 279 Virgil bestows with a careless magnificence. Homer, like the Nile, pours out his riches with a sudden over- flow ; Virgil, like a river in its banks, with a constant stream. And when we look upon their machines, Homer seems like his own Jupiter in his terror, shak- ing Olympus, scattering the lightnings, and firing the heavens. Virgil, like the same power, in his benevo- lence, counselling with the gods, laying plans for em- pires, and ordering his whole creation." Periods of this kind, when introduced with propriety, and not too frequently repeated, have a sensible and attractive beauty : but if such a construction be aimed at in all our sentences, it betrays into a disagreeable uniformi- ty, and produces a regular jingle in the period, which tires the ear, and plainly discovers aifectation. Harmony of Sentences. Having treated of sentences, with regard to their meaning, under the heads of perspicuity, unity, and strength, we will now consider them with respect to their sound, their harmony, or agreeableness to the ear. In the harmony of periods, two things are to be considered : First, agreeable sound, or modulation in general, without any particular expression : Next, the sound so ordered, as to become expressive of the sense. The first is the more common ; the second the superior beauty. The beauty of musical construction, it is evident, will depend upon the choice of words, and the ar- rangement of them. Those words are most pleasing to the ear which are composed of smooth and liquid 280 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. sounds, where there is a proper intermixture of vowels and consonants, without too many harsh consonants, rubbing against each other, or too many open vowels in succession, to produce a hiatus, or unpleasing aper- ture of the mouth. Long words are generally more pleasing to the ear than monosyllables ; and those are the most musical which are not wholly composed of long or short syllables, but of an intermixture of them ; such as, delight, amuse, velocity, celerity, beau- tiful, impetuosity. If the words, however, which com- pose a sentence, be ever so well chosen and harmo- nious, yet, if they be unskilfully arranged, its music is entirely lost. As an instance of a musical sentence we may take the following from Milton, in his Treatise on Education. " We shall conduct you to a hill-side, laborious, indeed, at the first ascent ; but else so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospects and melodious sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming." Every thing in this sentence con- spires to render it harmonious. The words are well chosen; laborious, smooth, green, goodly, melodious, charming; and besides, they are so happily arranged, that no alteration could be made, without injuring the melody. There are two things on which the music of a sentence principally depends : these are, the proper distribution of the several members of it, and the close or cadence of the whole. First, we observe, that the distribution of the sev- eral members should be carefully attended to. What- ever is easy and pleasing to the organs of speech always sounds grateful to the ear. W T hile a period is going on, the termination of each of its members RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 281 forms a pause in the pronunciation ; and these pauses should be so distributed as to bear a certain musical proportion to each other. This will be best illustrated by examples. The following passage is taken from Archbishop Tillotson. " This discourse, concerning the easiness of God's commands, does, all along, sup- pose and acknowledge the difficulties of the first entrance upon a religious course ; except only in those persons, who have had the happiness to be trained up to religion by the easy and insensible degrees of a pious and virtuous education. " This sentence is far from being harmonious; owing chiefly to this, that there is, properly, no more than one pause in it, falling be- tween the two members into which it is divided ; each of which is so long as to require a considerable stretch of the breath in pronouncing it.* Let us observe now, on the contrary, the grace of the following pas- sage, from Sir William Temple, in which he speaks sarcastically of man. '" But, God be thanked, his pride is greater than his ignorance ; and what he wants in knowledge, he supplies by sufficiency. When he has looked about him, as far as he can, he concludes there is no more to be seen ; when he is at the end of his line, he is at the bottom of the ocean 5 when he has shot his best, he is sure none ever did, or ever can, shoot better, or beyond it. His own reason he holds to be the certain measure of truth ; and his own knowledge of what is possible in nature.' 3 Here * There is not perhaps so inveterate, or so ill-grounded an error, as that which prevails among- all rhetoricians, ancient and modern, of supposing that a long- sentence necessarily requires a long effusion of breath and occasions great difficulty of pronunciation. Those who have perused Elements of Elocution, page 37, and the former part of this treatise, will, I flatter myself, see the folly of this notion. Those, above all others, ought not to adopt it, who contend, that every line of verse, whether the sense require it or not, ought to be marked with a pause of suspension. See Elements of Elocution, page 279. 282 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. every thing is, at the same time, easy to the breath, and grateful to the ear. We must, however, observe, that if composition abounds with sentences which have too many rests, and these placed at intervals too apparent- ly measured and regular, it is apt to savour of affectation. The next thing which demands our attention is the close or cadence of the whole sentence. The only im- portant rule which can here be given is, that when we aim at dignity or elevation, the sound should increase to the last ; the longest members of the period, and the fullest and most sonorous words, should be employ- ed in the conclusion. As an instance of this, the fol- lowing sentence of Mr. Addison may be given. " It fills the mind/' speaking of sight, " with the largest variety of ideas ; converses with its object at the greatest distance ; and continues the longest in action without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoy- ments." Here every reader must be sensible of a beauty, both in the just division of the members and pauses, and the manner in which the sentence is rounded and brought to a full and harmonious termin- ation. It may be remarked, that little words, in the con- clusion of a sentence, are as injurious to melody, as they are inconsistent with strength of expression. A musical close in our languagj seems, in general, to require either the last syllable, or the last but one, to be a long syllable. Words which consist chiefly of short syllables, as contrary ', particular, retrospect, seldom terminate a sentence harmoniously, unless a run of long syllables, before, has rendered them pleas- ing to the ear. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 283 Sentences, however, which are so constructed as to make the sound always swell and grow towards the end, and to rest either on a long or a penult long syl- lable, give a discourse the tone of declamation. If melody be not varied, the ear soon becomes acquaint- ed and cloyed with it. Sentences constructed in the same manner, with the pauses at equal intervals, should never succeed each other. Short sentences must be blended with long and swelling ones, to render discourse sprightly as well as magnificent. We now proceed to treat of a higher species of harmony — the sound adapted to the sense. Of this we may remark two degrees : First, the current of sound suited to the tenor of a discourse : Next, a peculiar resemblance effected between some object and the sounds that are employed in describing it. Sounds have, in many respects, an intimate cor- respondence with our ideas ; partly natural, partly produced by artificial associations. Hence, any one modulation of sound continued, stamps on our style a certain character and expression. Sentences con- structed with the Ciceronian fulness and swell excite an idea of what is important, magnificent, and sedate. They suit, however, no violent passion, no eager rea- soning, no familiar address. These require measures brisker, easier and 'inore concise. It were as ridicu- lous to write a familiar epistle and a funeral oration in a style of the same cadence, as to set the words of a tender love-song to the tune of a warlike march. Besides that general correspondence which the cur- rent of sound has with the current of thought, a more particular expression may be attempted, of certain objects, by resembling sounds. In poetry this resem- . 36 284 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. blance is chiefly to be looked for. It obtains some- times, indeed, in prose composition ; but there in a more faint and inferior degree. The sounds of words may be employed to describe chiefly three classes of objects ; first, other sounds ; secondly, motion ; and thirdly, the emotions and pas- sions of the mind. In most languages it will be found, that the names of many particular sounds are so formed as to bear some resemblance to the sound which they signify ; as with us, the whistling of winds, the buzz and hum of insects, the hiss of serpents, and the crash of falling timber ; and many other instances, where the word has been plainly constructed from the sound it repre- sents.* A remarkable example of this beauty we shall produce from Milton, taken from two passages in his Paradise Lost, describing the sound made in the one, by the opening of the gates of hell ; in the other, by the opening of those of heaven. The con- trast between the two exhibits to great advantage the art of the poet. The first is the opening of helPs gates : On a sudden, open fly, With impetuous recoil, and jarring sound, Th* infernal doors ; and on their hinges grate Harsh thunder. Observe the smoothness of the other : Heaven opened wide Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound ! On golden hinges turning. The second class of objects, which the sound of words is frequently employed to imitate, is motion : as it is swift or slow, violent or gentle, uniform or in- * For a fuller explanation of this figure in composition, see page 228. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 285 terrupted, easy or accompanied with effort. Between sound and motion there is no natural affinity ; yet in the imagination there is a strong one, as is evi- dent from the connexion between music and dancing. The poet can, consequently, give us a lively idea of the kind of motion he would describe, by the help of sound, which corresponds in our imagination, with that motion. Long syllables naturally excite the idea of slow motion ; as in this line of Pope : Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone. A succession of short syllables gives the impression of quick motion : as, in Milton, — While on the tawny sands and shelves Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves. The works of Homer and Virgil abound with in- stances of this beauty, which are so often quoted, and so well known, that it is unnecessary to produce them. The third set of objects, which we mentioned the sound of words as capable of representing, consists of the emotions and passions of the mind. Between sense and sound there appears, at first view, to be no natural resemblance. But if the arrangement of syllables, by the sound alone, calls forth one set of ideas more readily than another, and disposes the mind for entering into that affection which the poet intends to raise, such arrangement may, with pro- priety, be said to resemble the sense, or be similar and correspondent to it. Thus when pleasure, joy, and agreeable objects, are described by one who sen- sibly feels his subject, the language naturally runs in- to smooth, liquid, and flowing numbers : 286 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. joy, thou welcome stranger ! twice three years 1 have not felt thy vital beams ; but now It warms my veins and plays around my heart : A fiery instinct lifts mc from the ground, And I could mount- Young. Brisk and lively sensations excite quicker and more animated numbers : The offer likes not, and the nimble gunner With linstock now the dev'lish cannon touches, And down goes all before him. Shakspeare. Melancholy and gloomy subjects are naturally con- nected with slow measures and long words : In these deep solitudes and awful cells, Where heav'nly pensive contemplation dwells. Pope. Abundant instances of this kind will be suggested by a moderate acquaintance with the good poets, either ancient or modern. General Characters of Style. Diffuse, Concise, Feeble, Nervous, Dry, Plain, Neat, Elegant, Flowery. That different subjects ought to be treated in dif- ferent kinds of style, is a position so self-evident, that it requires not illustration. Every one is convinc- ed, that treatises of philosophy should not be com- posed in the same style with orations. It is equally apparent, that different parts of the same composition require a variation in the style and manner. Yet amidst this variety, we still expect to find, in the composition of any one man, some degree of uniformi- ty or consistency with himself, in manner ; we expect to find some prevailing character of style impressed on ail his writings, which shall be suited to, and shall RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 287 distinguish, his particular genius and turn of mind. The orations in Livy differ considerably in style, as they ought to do, from the rest of his history. The same thing may be observed in those of Tacitus. Yet in the orations of both these elegant historians, the distinguishing manner of each may be clearly traced ; the splendid fulness of the one, and the sententious brevity of the other. Wherever there is real or na- tive genius, it prompts a disposition to one kind of style rather than to another. Where this is wanting, where there is no marked nor peculiar character which appears in the compositions of an author, we are apt to conclude, and not without cause, that he is a vulgar and trivial author, who writes from imitation, and not from the impulse of original genius. One of the first and most obvious distinctions of the different sorts of style arises from an author's expand- ing his thoughts more or less. This distinction con- stitutes what are termed the diffuse and concise styles. A concise writer compresses his ideas into the fewest words ; he employs none but the most expressive ; he lops off all those which are not a material addition to the sense. Whatever ornament he admits is adopted for the sake of force, rather than of grace. The same thought is never repeated. The utmost precis- ion is studied in his sentences ; and they are gene- rally designed to suggest more to the reader s imagin- ation than they immediately express. A diffuse writer unfolds his idea fully. He holds it out in a variety of lights, and assists the reader, as much as possible, in comprehending it completely. He is not very anxious to express it at first in its full strength, because he intends repeating the im- 288 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. pression ; and what he wants in strength he endeav- ours to supply by, copiousness. His periods naturally flow into some length ; and having room for ornament of every kind, he gives it free admittance. Each of these styles has its peculiar advantages, and each becomes faulty when carried to the extreme. Of conciseness carried as far as propriety will allow, perhaps in some cases farther, Tacitus the historian, and Montesquieu, in " Y Esprit de Loix," are remark- able examples. Of a beautiful and magnificent dif- fuser.ess, Cicero is, undoubtedly, the noblest instance which can be given. Addison also, and Sir William Temple, may be ranked in some degree under the same class. To determine when to adopt the concise, and when the diffuse manner, we must be guided by the nature of the composition. Discourses which are to be spok- en require a more diffuse style than books which are to be read. In written compositions, a proper degree of conciseness has great advantages. It is more lively ; keeps up attention ; makes a stronger impression on the mind ; and gratifies the reader by supplying more exercise to his conception. Description, when we wish to have it vivid and animated, should be in a concise strain. Any redundant words or circumstan- ces encumber the fancy, and render the object we pre- sent to it confused and indistinct. The strength and vivacity of description, whether in prose or poetry, depend much more upon the happy choice of one or two important circumstances than upon the multipli- cation of them. When we desire to strike the fancy, or to move the heart, we should be concise ; when to inform the understanding, which is more deliberate in RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 289 its motions, and wants the assistance of a guide, it is better to be full. Historical narration may be beautiful, either in a concise or diffuse manner, ac- cording to the author's genius. Livy and Herodotus are diffuse ; Thucydides and Sallust are concise ; yet they are all agreeable. The nervous and the feeble are generally consider- ed as characters of style, of the same import with the concise and the diffuse. They do, indeed, very fre- quently coincide ; yet this does not always hold ; since there are instances of writers, who, in the midst of a full and ample style, have maintained a consider- able degree of strength. Livy is an instance of the truth of this observation. The foundation, indeed, of a nervous or weak style is laid in an author's man- ner of thinking : If he conceives an object forcibly, he will express it with strength ; but if he has an indis- tinct view of his subject, this will clearly appear in his style. Unmeaning words and loose epithets will escape him ; his expressions will be vague and gene- ral ; his arrangement indistinct and weak ; and our conception of his meaning will be faint and confused. But a nervous writer, be his style concise or extend- ed, gives us always a strong idea of his meaning ; his mind being full of his subject, his words are, conse- quently, all expressive ; every phrase, and every fig- ure which he uses, renders the picture which he would set before us more striking and complete. It must, however, be observed that too great a study of strength, to the neglect of the other qualities of style, is apt to betray writers into a harsh manner. Harsh- ness proceeds from uncommon words, from forced in- versions in the construction of a sentence, and too 290 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. great neglect of smoothness and ease. This is im- puted as a fault to some of our earliest classics in the English language ; such as Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir Francis Bacon, Hooker, Harrington, Cudworth, and other writers of considerable reputation in the days of Queen Elizabeth, James I. and Charles I. These writers had nerve and strength in a considerable de- gree ; and are to this day distinguished by that quali- ty in style. But the language, in their hands, was very different from what it is at present, and was, in- deed, entirely formed upon the idiom and construc- tion of the Latin, in the arrangement of senten- ces. The present form which the language has as- sumed, has, in some degree, sacrificed the study of strength to that of ease and perspicuity. Our ar- rangement has become less forcible, perhaps, but more plain and natural : and this is now considered as the genius of our tongue. Hitherto, style has been considered under those characters, which regard its expressiveness of an author's meaning : We will now consider it in another view, with respect to the degree of ornament employ- ed to embellish it. Here the style of different authors seems to rise in the following gradation : A dry, a plain, a neat, an elegant, a flowery manner. Of these we will treat briefly, in the order in which they stand. A dry manner excludes every kind of ornament. Satisfied with being understood, it aims not to please, in the least degree, either the fancy or the ear. This is tolerable only in pure didactic writing ; and even there to make us bear it, great solidity of mat- ter is necessary, and entire perspicuity of language. A plain style advances one degree above a dry one. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 291 A writer of this character employs very little or- nament of any kind, and rests almost entirely upon his sense. But, though he does not engage us by the arts of composition, he avoids disgusting us like a dry and harsh writer. Besides perspicuity, he observes pro- priety, purity, and precision in his language ; which form no inconsiderable degree of beauty. Liveliness and force are also compatible with a plain style ; and, consequently, such an author, if his sentiments be good, may be sufficiently agreeable. The difference between a dry and a plain writer is, that the former is incapable of ornament, — the latter goes not in pur- suit of it. Of those who have employed the plain style, Dean Swift is an eminent example. A neat style is next in order ; and here we are ad- vanced into the region of ornament ; but that ornament is not of the most sparkling kind. A writer of this character shows that he does not despise the beauty of language, by his attention to the choice of his words, and to their graceful collocation. His senten- ces are always free from the incumbrance of super- fluous words ; are of a moderate length ; rather in- clining to brevity than a swelling structure ; and clos- ing with propriety. There is variety in his cadence ; but no appearance of studied harmony. His figures, if any, are short and accurate, rather than bold and glowing. Such a style may be attained by a writer wiiose powers of fancy or genius are not extensive, by industry and attention. This sort of style is not unsuitable to any subject whatever. A familiar epis- tle, or a law paper, on the driest subject, may be com- posed with neatness ; and a sermon, or a philosophical treatise, in a neat style, will be read with satisfaction. 37 292 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. An elegant style admits a higher degree of orna- ment than a neat one ; and possesses all the virtues of ornament, without any of its excesses or defects. Complete elegance implies great perspicuity and pro- priety ; purity in the choice of words, and carefulness and skill in their harmonious and happy arrangement. It implies farther, — the beauty of imagination spread over style, as far as the subject allows it, — and all the illustration which figurative language affords, when properly employed. An elegant writer, in short, is one who delights the fancy and the ear, while he in- forms the understanding ; and who clothes his ideas with all the beauty of expression, but does not over- load them with any of its misplaced finery. Style — Simple; Affected; Vehement Directions for forming a proper Style. Simplicity, applied to writing, is a term very com- monly used, but, like many other critical terms, it is often used vaguely, and without precision. The dif- ferent meanings given to the word simplicity have been the chief cause of this inaccuracy. It will not, therefore, be improper to make a distinction between them, and show in what sense simplicity is a proper attribute of style. There are four different accepta- tions in which this term is taken. The first is simplicity of composition, which is op- posed to too great a variety of parts. This is the simplicity of plan in a tragedy, as distinguished from double plots and crowded incidents ; the simplicity of the Iliad, in opposition to the digressions of Lucan ; the simplicity of Grecian architecture, in opposition to the irregularity of the Gothic — Simplicity, in this s ense, is the same as unity. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 293 The second sense, is simplicity of thought in oppo- sition to refinement. Simple thoughts are those which flow naturally, which are easily suggested by the sub- ject or occasion, and which, when once suggested, are universally understood. Refinement in writing means a less obvious end natural turn of thought, which, when carried too far, approaches to intricacy, and is unpleasing, by the appearance of being far sought. Thus we should say, that Mr. Parnell is a poet of much greater simplicity, in his turn of thought, than Mr. Cowley. A third sense of simplicity — that in which it regards style, is opposed to too much ornament or pomp of language. Thus we say, Mr. Locke is a simple, Mr. Hervey a florid, writer. There is a fourth sense of simplicity, which also respects style : but it regards not so much the degree of ornament employed as the easy and natural manner in which language is expressive of our thoughts. In this sense, simplicity is compatible with the highest ornament. Homer, for example, has this simplicity in the greatest perfection ; and yet no writer posses- ses more ornament and beauty. This simplicity, which is now the object of our consideration, stands opposed not to ornament, but to affectation of ornament ; and is a superior excellency in composition. A writer who has attained simplicity has no marks of art in his expression ; it appears the very language of nature. We see not the writer and his labour, but the man in his own natural character. He may pos- sess richness of expression ; he may be full of figures and of fancy ; but these flow from him without diffi- culty ; and he seems to write in this manner, not be- 294 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. cause he has studied it, but because it is the mode of expression most familiar and easy to him. With this character of style, a certain degree of negligence is not inconsistent, nor even ungraceful ; for too accu- rate an attention to words is foreign to it. Simplicity of style possesses this considerable advantage, that, like simplicity of manners, it shows us a man's senti- ments and turn of mind laid open without disguise. A more studied and artificial mode of writing, however beautiful, has always this disadvantage, that it exhib- its an author in form, like a man at court, where the splendour of dress, and the ceremonial of behavior, conceal those peculiarities which distinguish one indi- vidual from another. But reading an author of sim- plicity is like conversing with a person of rank at home, and with ease, where we see his natural man- n»_ ■, and his real character. With regard to simplicity, in general, we may ob- serve, that the ancient original writers are always the most eminent for it. This proceeds from a very obvi- ous cause, that they wrote from the dictates of natural genius, and were not formed upon the labours and writings of others. Of affectation in style, which is opposed to simpli- city, we have a remarkable instance in our language. Lord Shaftesbury, though an author of considerable merit, can express nothing with simplicity. He seems to have considered it as vulgar, and beneath the dig- nity of a man of fashion, to speak like other men. Hence he is perpetually in buskins, replete wtih cir- cumlocutions and artificial elegance. In every sen- tence the marks of labour are visible, — no appearance of that ease which expresses a sentiment coming nat- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 295 ural and warm from the heart. He abounds with fig- ures and ornament of every kind, — is sometimes hap- py in them ; but his fondness for them is too con- spicuous ; and having once seized some metaphor or allusion that pleased him, he knows not how to part with it. He possessed delicacy and refinement of taste to a degree that may be called excessive and sickly ; but he had little warmth of passion ; and the coldness of his character suggested that artificial and stately manner which appears in his writings. No author is more dangerous to the tribe of imitators than Shaftesbury, who, amidst several very considerable blemishes, has, at the same time, many dazzling and imposing beauties. It is very possible, however, for an author to write with simplicity, and yet to be destitute of beautv. He may be free from affectation, and not have menr. The beautiful simplicity supposes an author in posses- sion of real genius, and capable of writing with solidity, purity, and brilliancy of imagination. In this case, the simplicity of his manner is the crowning ornament : it gives lustre to every other beauty ; it is the dress of nature, without which all beauties are but imper- fect. But if the mere absence of affectation were sufficient to constitute the beauty of style, weak and dull writers might often have pretensions to it. A distinc- tion, therefore, must be made, between that simplicity which accompanies true genius, and which is entirely compatible with every proper ornament of style, and that which is the effect only of carelessness and inat- tention. Another character of style, different from those which have been already mentioned, is the vehement. 296 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. This always supposes strength, and is not, in any res- pect incompatible with simplicity. It is distinguished by a peculiar ardour ; it is the language of a man whose imagination and passions are glowing and im- petuous. With a negligence of lesser graces, he pours himself forth with the rapidity and plenitude of a tor- rent. The vehement belongs to the higher kinds of oratory ; and is rather expected from a man who is speaking, than from one who is writing in his closet. Demosthenes is the most full and perfect example of this species of style. Having determined and explained the different characters of style, we shall conclude our observa- tions with a few directions for the attainment of ex- cellence in writing. The first direction proper to be observed is, to study clear ideas on the subject concerning which we are to write or to speak. What we conceive clearly and feel strongly we shall naturally express with clearness and with strength. We should, therefore, think closely on the subject, till we have attained a full and distinct view of the matter which we are to clothe in words, — till we become warm and interested in it : then, and then only, shall we find a proper ex- pression begin to flow. In the second place, to the acquisition of a good style, the frequency of composing is indispensably requisite. But it is not every kind of composing which will improve style. By a careless and hasty habit of writing, a bad style will be acquired ; more trouble will afterwards be necessary to unlearn faults, and correct negligence, than to endeavour, from a state of entire ignorance, to become acquainted with RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 297 the first rudiments of composition. In the begin- ning, therefore, we ought to write with deliberation and with care. Facility and speed are the fruit of practice and experience. We must be cautious, how- ever, not to retard the course of thought, nor cool the ardour of imagination, by pausing too long on every word we employ. On certain occasions, there is a glow of composition which must be kept up, if we ex- pect to express ourselves happily, though at the ex- pense of some inaccuracies. A more severe examina- tion must be the work of correction. What we have written should be laid by for some time, till the ar- dour of composition be subsided, till the partiality for our expressions be weakened, and the expressions themselves be forgotten : and then examining our work with a cool and critical eye, as if it were the performance of another, we shall discover many im- perfections which at first escaped our notice. In the third place, an acquaintance with the style of the best authors is peculiarly requisite. Hence a just taste will be formed, and a copious fund be sup-, plied, of words on every subject. No exercise, per- haps, will be found more useful for acquiring a proper style, than to translate some passage from an elegant author into our own words. Thus, to take, for in- stance, a page of one of Mr. Addison's Spectators, and read it attentively two or three times, till we are in full possession of the thoughts it contains ; then to lay aside the book, to endeavour to write out the pas- sage from memory, as well as we can,— and then to compare what we have written with the style of the author. Such an exercise will, by comparison, show us our own defects ; will teach us to correct them ; and, 298 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. from the variety of expression which it will exhibit, will conduct us to that which is most beautiful and perfect. In the fourth place, a caution must be given against a servile imitation of any one author whatever. A desire of imitating hampers genius, and generally pro- duces a stiffness of expression. They who follow an author minutely commonly copy his faults as well as his beauties. No one will ever become an accomplish- ed writer or speaker, who has not some confidence in his own genius. We ought carefully to avoid using any author's particular phrases, or transferring passa- ges from him : such a habit will be fatal to all genuine composition. It is much better to possess something of our own, though of inferior beauty, than to endeav- our to shine in borrowed ornaments, which will, at last, betray the utter barrenness of our genius. In the fifth place, it is a plain but important rule, with regard to style, that we always endeavour to adapt it to the subject, and likewise to the capacity of our hearers, if we are to speak in public. To at- tempt a poetical, florid style, when it should be our business only to argue and reason, is in the highest degree awkward and absurd. To speak with elaborate pomp of words, before those who cannot comprehend them, is equally ridiculous and useless. When we be- gin to write or speak, we should previously impress on our minds a complete idea of the end to be aimed at ; keep this steadily in view, and adapt our style to it. We must, in the last place, recommend, that an at- tentive regard to style do not occupy us so much, as to detract from a higher degree of attention to the RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 299 thoughts. This rule is the more necessary, since the present taste of the age seems to be directed more to style than to thought. It is much more easy to dress up trifling and common thoughts with some ornament of expression,- than to afford a fund of vigorous, in- genious, and useful sentiments. The latter requires genius ; the former may be attained by industry, with the aid of very superficial parts. Hence the crowd of writers who are rich in words, but poor in senti- ments. Custom obliges us not to be inattentive to the ornaments of style, if we wish that our labours should be read and admired. But he is a contemptible wri- ter, who looks not beyond the dress of language, who lays not the chief stress upon his matter, and who does not regard ornament as a secondary and inferior recommendation. With respect to the figures of rhetoric with which style is so much invigorated and embellished, see page 179. THUS far, with the most trifling alterations, I have followed Dr. Blair, who, in those parts of oratory called Disposition and Elocution, or a choice and ar- rangement of words, has exceeded every writer who went before him. I flatter myself that in pronunciation or delivery, which forms the last part of oratory, some- thing more systematical and satisfactory has been offered in the present work, than in any that has hith- erto been published. But there is another part of oratory called invention, that has been but little in- sisted on by our modern writers, which, however, seems to form the basis of the art. Dr. Blair has 38 300 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. not only omitted but discountenanced this part of rhetoric ; and such an opinion have I of the good sense of this writer, that I should much doubt of its utility, if the very reason of the thing, as well as the authori- ty of the ancients and some of the most respectable among the moderns, did not sanction and recommend it Dr. Priestley's reasons for the use of topics ap- pear to me unanswerable. " I am aware (says he) that this whole business of topics is objected to by some as altogether useless, and what no persons, who are capable of composing at all, ever stand in need of, or have recourse to." To this I reply, that in fact, no person ever did, or ever can compose at all, without having recourse to something of a similar nature. What is recollection but the introduction of one idea into the mind by means of another with which it was previously associ- ated? Are not ideas associated by means of their connexion with, and relation to, one another? And is it not very possible, that particular ideas may be recollected by means of general ideas, which include them ? It is impossible to endeavour to recollect (or, as we generally say, invent) materials for a discourse, with- out running over in our minds such general heads of discourse as we have found by experience to assist us in that operation. It is even impossible to conceive in what other manner a voluntary effort to invent, or recollect, can be directed. A person may not have recourse to any particular list, or enumeration of topics ; or he may never have heard of the artificial distribution of them by rhetoricians : but if he com- pose at all, though he may be ignorant of the name, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 301 he must be possessed of the thing. And if a person have any regular method in his compositions, he must, moreover, have arranged those topics in his mind in some kind of order ; the several particulars of which, being attended to successively, furnish him with a plan for composition. Now is it not better to sit down to composition provided with a tolerably complete list of those topics, digested with care and precision, than make use of such a one as we casually and without any design form to ourselves from general reading only, or a little practice in composition, which cannot but be very imperfect, and inadequate to the purpose to which it is applied? After previously running over such a table, a person would be much better able to form an idea of the ex- tent of his subject, and might conduct his composition ac- cordingly ; or perusing it after reading the composition of another, he might with much greater* certainty know whether any thing of importance had been left unsaid upon the subject : or whether, if the discourse were necessarily limited to a few arguments, the writ- er had selected the best. If we pay any regard to the practice of the famous erators of antiquity, we cannot but be disposed to think favourably of topics ; for it is certain that they made great use of topics, as appears in the writings of Cicero and Quintilian. Too much may be expect- ed from any thing, and an improper use may be made of any thing; but this is no argument against the ju- dicious and proper use of it. It were absurd for any person slavishly to oblige himself to borrow something from every topic of dis- course ; much more to set it down in the order in 302 * RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. which they may happen to be enumerated : but, hav- ing glanced at the whole, let him take what is most to his purpose, and omit every thing that would appear far-fetched, or to be introduced for the sake of swel- ling the bulk of a discourse. i am very ready, however, to acknowledge, that rhetorical topics are more useful in the composition of set declamations on trite subjects, and to young persons, than in the communication of original matter, and to persons much used to composition. Original thoughts cannot but suggest themselves, so that all the assist- ance any person can want in this case is a proper manner of arranging them. And a person much used to composition will have acquired a habit of recollec- tion, without any express attention to topics ; just as a person used to the harpsichord, or any other instru- ment of music, will be able to perform without an express attention to rules, or even to the manner of placing his fingers. His idea of the tune in general is~ so slosely associated with all the motions of his fin- gers necessary to the playing of it, and these motions are also so closely associated together, that they follow one another mechanically, in what Dr. Hartley calls a secondarily automatic manner, which is almost as certain as a motion originally and properly automatic. As rules for invention, or, as Dr. Priestly more properly calls it, recollection, are established by such good reasons, and on so respectable authority, I shall present the student with a large extract from the Sys- tem of Oratory of the learned Dr. Ward, professor of Gresham College. And as this book has long been out of print, and is scarcely to be got, I flatter myself I shall make my reader no unacceptable present, by UHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 303 giving him the learned professor's lectures on Inven- tion, or that part of rhetoric which treats on the meth- od of finding out arguments for the proof of what is proposed. Of the principal Distribution of Oratory. The principal distribution of the subject of oratory is made, by dividing it into three kinds of discourse, called by the ancients demonstrative, deliberative, and judicial. The first of these comprehends all such dis- courses as relate to the praise or dispraise of persons or things. This is a very extensive field, and con- tains in it whatever in nature or art, on the account of any good or bad qualities, exellencies or defects, is fit to be made the subject of a discourse. By this, virtue is applauded, and vice censured ; good exam- ples recommended to the imitation of others, and bad ones exposed to their abhorrence. All panegyric and invective are its proper themes. So that the chief design of these discourses is to inspire men with generous sentiments of honour and virtue, and to give them a distaste to every thing that is base and vicious, by examples of each, which are the most powerful means of instruction. Though, as has been said already, they are not wholly confined to persons. To the de- liberative kind belongs whatever may become a subject of debate, consultation, or advice. Of this sort are all speeches made in public assemblies, which respect the common good and benefit of mankind, their lives, liberties, and estates'; whatever is advised to, or dis- suaded from upon the foot of any valuable interest, which is the end proposed in these discourses, so far as it is consistent with honor and justice. The last 304 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. head contains all judicial subjects ; by this, property is secured, innocence protected, justice maintained, and crimes punished. All matters canvassed at the bar are of this sort. And it is doubtless a very val- uable and useful end in speaking, to vindicate justice and equity in opposition to fraud or violence. Aris- totle is said to have been the author of this division, which seems to be very just ; since perhaps there is no subject of oratory, whether sacred or civil, but may be referred to one or other of these heads, as will be shown hereafter, when I come to treat of each of them in particular. Of Invention in general, and particularly of Common Places. Invention, considered in general, is the discovery of such things as are proper to persuade. And in order to attain this end, the orator proposes to himself three things : to prove or illustrate the subject upon which he treats, to conciliate the minds of his hearers, and to engage their passions in his favour. And as these require different kinds of arguments or motives, inven- tion furnishes him with a supply for each of them, as will be shown in their order. I shall first consider that part of invention, which directs to arguments proper for the proof of a thing ; which, as Cicero tells us, is " the discovery of such things as are really true, or that seem to be so, and make the thing, for which they are produced, appear probable." And the things, which are thus discov- ered, are called arguments ; for, " an argument," as defined by him, " is a reason, which induces us to \ RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 305 believe what before we doubted of." If we reflect upon those things, which relate to the common affairs of life, and the numerous transactions between mankind, we shall find that most of them are of a dubious na- ture, and liable to various constructions, as they are taken in different views ; whence a diversity of opin- ions is formed concerning them. And where the na- ture of the thing does not admit of certainty, every considerate and prudent person will give into that side of the question, which carries in it the greater de- gree of probability. And as these are the subjects with which the ancient orators were principally concerned, we find, by Cic- ero's definition, that all he requires of such arguments as they commonly made use of, is to render a thing probable. Indeed there are some things which do not so much require reasoning, as a proper and suitable manner of representing them, to make them credible ; and because the several ways of illustrating these are also taught by the precepts of this art, they are like- wise, in a large sense of the word, called arguments. But as different kinds of discourses require differ- ent arguments, rhetoricians have considered them two ways ; in general, under certain heads, as a common fund for all subjects ; and in a more particular man- ner, as they are suited to demonstrative, deliberative, or judicial discourses. At present I shall treat only upon the former of these. And now, that one thing may receive proof and confirmation from another, it is necessary that there be some relation between them ; for all things are not equally adapted to prove one another. That we may the better conceive this, I shall make 306 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. use of a plain and familiar instance. In measuring the quantity of two things which we would show to be either equal or unequal, if they are of such a na- ture that one cannot be applied to the other, then we take a third thing, which may be applied to them both, — and that must be equal at least to one of the two, which, if applied to the other, and found equal to that also, we presently conclude that those two things are equal ; but if it be unequal to the other, we say that those two things are unequal. Because it is the certain and known property of all quantities, that whatsoever two things are equal to a third, are equal to one another ; and where one of any two things is equal to a third, and the other unequal, those two things are unequal to one another. What has been said of quantities will hold true in all other cases, — that so far as any two things or ideas agree to a third, so far they agree to one another. And by agreeing, I understand this, that the one may be affirmed of the other. So likewise on the contrary, as far as one of any two things or ideas does agree to a third, and the other does not, so far they disagree with one another, in which respect one of them cannot be truely affirmed of the other. Since therefore in every proposition one thing is spoken of another, if we would find out whether the two ideas agree to each other or not, where this is not evident of itself, we must find out some third thing, the idea of which agrees to one of them ; and then that being applied to the other, as it does agree or disagree with it, so we may conclude that the two things proposed do agree or disagree with one .another. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 307 This will be made more clear by an example or two. Should it be inquired, Whether virtue is to be loved? the agreement between virtue and love might be found by comparing them separately with happi- ness, as a common measure to both. For since the idea of happiness agrees to that of love, and the idea of virtue to that of happiness, it follows that the ideas of virtue and love agree to one another; and therefore it may be affirmed, That virtue is to be loved. But on the contrary, because the idea of misery disagrees with that of love, but the idea of vice agrees to that of misery, the two ideas of vice and love must conse- quently disagree with one another ; and therefore it would be false to assert, That vice is to be loved. Now this third thing logicians call the medium or middle term, because it does as it were connect two extremes, that is, both parts of a proposition. But rhetoricians call it an argument, because it is so applied to what was before proposed, as to become the instrument of procuring our assent to it. I have mentioned these plain examples only for illustration, by which we may in some measure perceive the nature and use of argu- ments. But whence, and by what methods they are to be sought, I shall now explain. A lively imagination and readiness of thought are undoubtedly a very great help to invention. Some persons are naturally endued with that quickness of fancy and penetration of mind, that they are seldom at a loss for arguments either to defend their own opinions, or to attack their adversaries. However, these things being the gift of nature, and not to be 39 508 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. gained by art, do not properly fall under our present consideration. But because all are not born with a like happy genius, and have not the same opportunity to culti- vate their minds with learning and knowledge, and because nothing is more difficult than to dwell long upon the consideration of one thing, in order to find out the strongest arguments which may be offered for and against it, — upon these accounts art has prescrib- ed a method to lessen in some measure these difficul- ties, and help every one to a supply of arguments upon any subject. And this is done t>y the contri- vance of common places, which Cicero calls the seats or heads of arguments, and, by a Greek name, topics. They are of two sorts, internal and external. As to the former, though things with regard to their nature and properties are exceedingly various, yet they have certain common relations, by means whereof the truth of w 7 hat is either affirmed or denied concerning them in any respect may be evinced. The ancient Greek rhetoricians therefore reduced these relations to some general heads ; which are termed common places, be- cause the reasons or arguments suited to prove any proposition are reposited in them, as a common fund or receptacle. And they are called internal heads, be- cause they arise from the subject upon which the ora- tor treats ; and are therefore distinguished from oth- ers, named external, which he fetches from without, and applies to his present purpose, as will be shown here- after. Cicero and Quintilian make them sixteen ; three of which comprehend the whole thing they are brought to prove ; namely, Definition, Enumeration, and Notation; and of the remaining thirteen some RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 309 contain a part of it, and the rest its various proper- ties and circumstances, with oth^r considerations re- lating to it; and these are Genus, Jpecies, Antecedents, Consequents, Adjuncts, Conjugates, Cause, Effect, Contraries, Opposites, Similitude, Dissimilitude, and Comparison. I shall give a brief account of each of these, in the order now mentioned. Definition explains the nature of the thing defin- ed, and shows what it is. And to whatsoever the definition agrees, the thing defined does so likewise. If therefore Socrates be a rational creature, he is a man ; because it is the definition of a man that be is a rational creature. Enumeration takes in all the parts of a thing. And from this we prove, that what agrees to all the parts, agrees to the whole ; and what does not agree to any one or more parts, does not agree to the whole. As when Cicero proves to Piso, that all the Roman state hated him ; by enumerating the several ranks and orders of Roman citizens, who all did so. Notation or Etymology explains the meaning or signification of a word. From which we reason thus : If he cannot pay his debts, he is insolvent ; for that is the meaning of the word insolvent. Genus is what contains under it two or more sorts of things, differing in nature. From this head logicians reason thus : Because every animal is mortal, and man is an animal, therefore man is mortal. But orators make a further use of this argument, which they call ascending from the hypothesis to the thesis, that is, from a particular to a general. As, should a person, when speaking in praise of justice, take occasion thence to commend and show the excellency of virtue in gen- 310 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. eral, with a view to render that particular virtue more amiable. For since every species contains in it the whole nature of the genus to which it relates, be- sides what is peculiar to itself, whereby it is distin- guished from it, — what is affirmed of the genus must of necessity be applicable to the species. Species is that which comprehends under it all the individuals of the same nature. From hence we may argue : He is a man, therefore he has a rational soul. And orators sometimes take occasion from this head to descend from the thesis to the hypothesis ; that is, in treating upon what is more general to introduce some particular contained under it, for the greater illustration of the general. Antecedents are such things, as being once al- lowed, others necessarily, or very probably, follow. From this head an inseparable property is proved from its subject : as, it is material, and therefore corrupti- ble. Consequents are such things, as being allowed, necessarily, or very probably, infer their antecedents. Hence the subject is proved from an inseparable prop- erty in this manner : It is corruptible, and therefore material. Adjuncts are separable properties of things, or circumstances that attend them. These are very nu- merous, and afford a great variety of arguments, some of which usually occur in every discourse. They do not necessarily infer their subject, but, if fitly chosen, render a thing credible, and are a sufficient ground for assent. The way of reasoning from them we shall show presently. Conjugates are words deduced from the same RHETORICAL GRAMMAli, 31 1 origin with that of our subject. By these the habit is proved from its acts : as, He who does justly is just. He does not act wisely, therefore he is not wise. But this inference will not hold, unless the actions appear continued and constant. A cause is that, by the force of which a thing does exist. There are four kinds of causes, — matter, form, efficient, and end, which afford a great variety of ar- guments. The way of reasoning from them is to infer the effect from the cause : as, Man is endued with reason, therefore he is capable of knowledge. An effect is that which arises from a cause, therefore the cause is proved by it ; as, He is endued with knowledge, therefore with reason. Contraries are things which, under the same genus, are at the utmost distance from each other. So that what we grant to the one we utterly deny the other : as, Virtue ought to be embraced, therefore vice should be avoided. Opposites are such things, which, though repug- nant to each other, yet are not directly contradictory : as, to love and to injure ; to hate and to commend. They differ from contraries in this, that they do not absolutely exclude one another. An argument is drawn from things repugnant, thus : He will do a man a mischief, therefore he does not love him. He loves a man, therefore he will not reproach him. Similitude is an agreement of things in quality. Thus Cicero proves, that pernicious citizens ought to be taken out of the state ; by the likeness they bear to corrupted members, which are cut off to prevent further damage to the body. Dissimilitude is a disagreement of things in qual- 312 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. ity. From this head Cicero shows the preference of his own exile to Piso's government of Macedonia ; by the difference between their conduct, and the peo- ple's esteem of them. Comparison is made three ways ; for either a thing is compared with a greater, with a less, or with its equal. This place therefore differs from that of si- militude on this account, that the quality was consid- ered in that, but here the quantity. An argument from the greater is thus drawn : If five legions could not conquer the enemy, much less will two. And by this the manner of the rest may be easily conceived. I shall just give one example somewhat larger than I have hitherto done of the manner of reasoning from these heads, whereby the use of them may further ap- pear. If any one therefore should have endeavoured to persuade Cicero not to accept of his life upon the condition offered him by Antony, — that he would burn his Philippic orations, which had been spoken against him, — he might be supposed to use such arguments as these ; partly taken from the adjuncts of Cicero, part- ly from those of Antony, and partly from the thing itself. And first with regard to Cicero it might be said : That so great a man ought not to purchase his life at so dear a price, as the loss of that immortal honour which, by so great pains and labour, he had acquired. And this might be confirmed by another argument : That now he was grown old, and could not expect to live much longer. And from the character of Antony he might argue thus : That he was very crafty and deceitful, and only designed, by giving him hopes of life, to have the Philippics first burnt, which otherwise he knew would transmit to posterity RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 313 an eternal brand of infamy upon him, and then he would take off the author. And this might be shown by comparison : For since he would not spare others, who had not so highly exasperated him, and from whom he had net so much to fear, certainly he would not forgive Cicero, since he knew well enough, that, so long as he lived, he himself could never be in safety. And lastly an argument might also be fetched from the nature of the thing itself in the following manner : That Cicero by this action would shamefully betray the state, and the cause of liberty, which he had, through his whole life, most courageously defended, with so great honour to himself and advantage to the public. Upon such an account a person might have used these, or the like arguments with Cicero, which arise from the forementioned heads. From this account of common places it is easy to conceive what a large field of discourse they open to the mind upon every subject. These different con- siderations furnish out a great number and variety of arguments, sufficient t supply the most barren invention. He can never be at a loss for matter who considers well the nature of his subject, the parts of which it consists, the circumstances which attend it, the causes whence it springs, the effects it produces, its agreement, disagreement,- or repugnancy to other things, — and in like manner carries it through all the remaining heads. But although this method will assist us very much to enlarge upon a subject, and place it ia different views, yet a prudent man is not so desirous to say a great deal as to speak to the pur- pose, and therefore will make choice of proper argu- ments, and such only which have a direct tendency 314 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. to confirm or illustrate his subject. And for this end it is necessary for him to gain first a thorough knowl- edge of his subject, and then arguments will naturally spring up in his mind proper to support it ; and if he be still at a loss, and find occasion to have recourse to these heads, he will readily perceive whence to take those which are best suited to his purpose. Of external Topics, The nature and design of Common Places have been shown already ; and a particular account of those which, because they are taken from the subject mat- ter of a discourse, are therefore called internal, has likewise been given. But the orator sometimes rea- sons from such topics as do not arise from his subject, but from things of a different nature, and for that rea- son are called external. And because the former are more properly invented by him, and the effect of his art, Aristotle calls them artificial topics, and the latter inartificial. But as they both require skill in the management, Quintilian very much blames those who take no notice of these latter, but exclude them from the art of rhetoric. I propose, therefore, to make them the subject of my present discourse, and show the methods of reasoning from them. They are all tak- en from authorities, and are, by one general name, called Testimonies. Now a Testimony may be expressed by writing, speech, or any other sign proper to declare a person's mind. And all testimonies may be distinguished into two sorts, divine and human. A divine testimony, when certainly known to be such, is incontestable, and admits of no debate, but should be acquiesced in with- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 315 ©ut hesitation. Indeed the ancient Greeks and Ro- mans esteemed the pretended oracles of their deities, the answers of their augurs and the like fallacies, di- vine testimonies. But with us, no one can be igno- rant of their true notion, though they do not so direct- ly come under our present consideration. Human Testimonies are of various kinds ; but as they furnish the orator with arguments, (in which view I am now to consider them,) they may be reduced to three heads ; Writings, Witnesses, and Contracts. By Writings here are to be understood written laws, wills, or other legal instruments, expressed and con- veyed in that manner. And it is not so much the force and validity of such testimonies, considered in themselves, that is here intended, as the occasion of dispute which may at any time arise concerning their true design and import, when produced in proof upon either side of a controversy. And these are five : Ambiguity, Disagreement between the ivords and inten- tion, Contrarietry, Reasoning, and Interpretation. I shall speak to each of these in their order. A writing is then said to be ambiguous, when it is capable of two or more senses, which makes the writ- er's design uncertain. Now ambiguity may arise either from single words, or the construction of sen- tences. From single words ; as when either the sense of a word, or the application of it, is doubtful. As : should it be questioned whether ready money ought to be included under the appellation of chattels left by a will. Or : if a testator bequeath a certain legacy to his nephew Thomas, and he has two nephews of that name. But ambiguity is also sometimes occasioned from the construction of a sentence : as when several things or 40 316 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. persoiis having been already mentioned, it is doubtful to which of them that which follows ought to be refer- red. For example : a person writes thus in his will : Let my heir give as a legacy to Titius, a horse out of my stable, which he pleases. Here it may be question- ed whether the word he refers to the heir, or to Titi- us ; and consequently, whether the heir be allowed to give Titius which horse he pleases, or Titius may chose which he likes best. Now as to controversies of this kind, in the first case above mentioned, the party who claims the chattels may plead, that all .moveable goods come under that name, and therefore that he has a right to the money. This he will en- deavour to prove from some instances where the word has been so used. The business of the opposite par- ty is to refute this, by showing that money is not there included. And if either side produce precedents in his favour, the other may endeavour to show the ca- ses are not parallel. As to the second case, arising from an ambiguity in the name, if any other words or expressions in the will seem to countenance either of the claimants, he will not fail to interpret them to his advantage. So likewise if any thing said by the tes- tator, in his life time, or any regard shown to either of these nephews more than the other, may help to determine which of them was intended, a proper use may be made of it. And the same may be said with regard to the third case ; in which the legatee may reason likewise from the common use of language, and show, that in such expressions it is unusal to make the reference to the last or next antecedent ; and thence plead, that it was the design of the testator to give him the option. — But in answer to this it may RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 31? be said, that allowing it to be very often so, yet in this instance it seems more easy and natural to repeat the verb give after please, and so to supply the sen- tence, ivhich he pleases to give him, referring it to the heir, than to bring in the verb choose, which was not in the sentence before, and so by supplying the sense, which he pleases to choose, to give the option to Titius. But where controversies of this kind arise from a law, recourse may be had to other laws, where the same thing has been expressed with greater clearness, which may help to determine the sense of the passage in dispute. A second controvesy from writings is when one party adheres to the words, and the other to what he asserts was the writer's intention. Now he who op- poses the literal sense, either contends, that what he himself offers is the simple and plain meaning of the Avriting, or that it must be so undersood in the partic- ular case in debate. An instance of the former is this, as we find it in Cicero, A person who died without children, but left a widow, had made this pro- vision in his will : If I have a son bom to me, he shall be my heir. And a little after : If my son die, before he comes of age, let Curius be my heir. There is no son born, Curius therefore sues for the estate, and pleads the intention of the testator, who designed him for his heir if he should have no son who arrived at age ; and says, there can be no reason to suppose he did not intend the same person for his heir if he had no son, as if he should have one who afterwards died in his minority. But the heir at law insists up- on the words of the will, which, as he says, require that first a son should be born, and afterwards die un- der age, before Curius can succeed to the inner- 318 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. itance. And there being no son, a substituted heir, as Curius was, can have no claim where the first heir does not exist, from whom he derives his pretension, and was to succeed by the appointment of the will. Of the latter case rhetoritians give this example : It was forbidden by a law to open the city gates in the night. A certain person, notwithstanding, in time of ivar did open them in the night, and let in some auxil- iary troops to prevent their being cut off by the enemy who was posted near the town. Afterwards, when the war was over, this person is arraigned, and tried for his life on the account of this action. Now in such a case the prosecutor founds his charge upon the ex- press words of the law ; and pleads that no sufficient reason can be assigned for going contrary to the letter of it, which would be to make a new law, and not to execute one already made. The defendant on the other hand alleges, that the fact he is charged with cannot however come within the intention of the law ; since he either could not, or ought not to have com- plied with the letter of it in that particular case, which must therefore necessarily be supposed to have been excepted in the design of that law, when it was made. But to this the prosecutor may reply ; that all such exceptions, as are intended by any law, are usually expressed in it : and instances may be brought of particular exceptions expressed in some laws ; and if there be any such exception in the law under debate, it should especially be mentioned. He may further add, that to admit of exceptions not expressed in the law itself, is to enervate the force of all laws by ex- plaining them away, and in effect to render them use- less. And this he may further corroborate by com- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 319 paring the law under debate with others, and consid- ering its nature and importance, and how far the pub- lic interest of the state is concerned in the due and regular execution of it; whence he may infer, that should exceptions be admitted in other laws of less consequence, yet, however, they ought not in this. Lastly, he may consider the reason alleged by the de- fendant, on which he founds his plea, and show there was not that necessity of violating the law in the pres- ent case as is pretended. And this is often the more requisite because the party who disputes against the words of the law always endeavours to support his al- legations from the equity of the case. If, therefore, this plea can be enervated, the main support of the defendant's cause is removed. For as the former ar- guments are designed to prevail with the judge to de- termine the matter on this side the question from the nature of the case, — so the intention of this argument is to induce him to it, from the weakness of the defence made by the opposite party. But the defendant will on the contrary use such arguments as may best de- monstrate the equity of his cause, and endeavour to vindicate the fact from his good design and intention in doing it. He will say, that the laws have allotted punishments for the commission of such facts as are evil in themselves, or prejudicial to others ; neither of which can be charged upon the action for which he is accused : that no law can be rightly executed, if more regard be had to the words and syllables of the writing, than to the intention of the legislator. To which purpose he may allege that direction of the law itself, which says : The law ought not to he too rigor- ously interpreted, nor the morels of it strained; hut th? 320 UHETORICAL GRAMMAR. true intention and design of each part of it duly consid- ered. As also, that saying of Cicero : What law may not be weakened and destroyed, if we bend the sense to the words, and do not regard the design and view of the legislator ? Hence he may take occasion to com- plain of the hardship of such a procedure, that no difference should be made between an audacious and wilful crime and an honest or necessary action, which might happen to disagree with the letter of the law, though not with the intent of it. And as it was observ- ed before to be of considerable service to the accuser, if he could remove the defendant's plea of equity, — so it will be of equal advantage to the defendant, if he can fix upon any words in the law which may in the least seem to countenance his case, since this will take off the main force of the charge. The third controversy of this kind is, when two writings happen to clash with each other, or at least seem to do so. Of this Hermogenes gives the follow- ing instance. One law enjoins : He, who continues alone in a ship during a tempest, shall have the proper- ty of the ship. Another law says : A disinherited son shall enjoy no part of his fathers estate. Now a son who had been disinherited by his father, happens to be in his father's ship in a tempest, and continues there alone, when every one else had deserted it. He claims the ship by the former of these laws, and his brother tries his right with him by the latter. In such cases therefore it may first be considered, wheth- er the two laws can be reconciled. And if that can- not be done, then which of them appears more equita- ble. Also w T hether one be positive, and the other negative : because prohibitions are a sort of excep- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 321 tions to positive injunctions. Or if one be a general law, — and the other more particular, and come near- er to the matter in question. Likewise which was, last made : since former laws are often abrogated, either wholly or in part, by subsequent laws ; or at least were designed to be so. Lastly, it may be ob- served, whether one of the laws be not plain and ex- press, and the other more dubious, or has any ambi- guity in it. All or any of which things that party will not omit to improve for his advantage, whose in- terest is concerned in it. The fourth controversy is Reasoning : as when something not expressly provided for by a law is in- ferred by similitude, or parity of reason, from what is contained in it. Quintilian mentions this instance of it : There ivas a law made at Tarentum to prohibit the exportation of wool, but a certain person exports sheep. In this case the prosecutor may first compare the thing, which occasions the charge, with the words of the law, and show their agreement, and how unnecessary it was that particular thing should have been expressly men- tioned in the law, since it is plainly contained in it, or at least an evident consequence from it. He may then plead that many things of a like nature are omit- ted in other laws for the same reason : and, lastly, he may urge the reasonableness and equity of the proce- dure. The defendant on the other hand will endeavour to show the deficiency of the reasoning and the differ- ence between the two cases. He will insist upon the plain and express words of the law, and set forth the ill tendency of such inferences, and conclusions drawn from similitudes and comparisons ; since there is scare any thing but in some respect may bear a resemblance to another. 322 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. The last controversy under this head is Interpreta- tion, in which the dispute turns upon the true mean- ing and explication of the law, in reference to that particular case. We have the following instance of this in the pandects ; A man who had two sons, both under age, substitutes Titius as heir to him who should die last, provided both of them died in their minority. They both perish together at sea, before they came to age. Here arises a doubt, ivhether the substitution can take place, or the inheritance devolves to the heir at law. The latter pleads, that as neither of them can be said to have died last, the substitution cannot take place, which was suspended upon the condition, that one di- ed after the other. But to this it may be said, it was the intention of the testator that if both died in their nonage, Titius should succeed to the inheritance ; and therefore it makes no difference whether they died together, or one after the other ; and so the law de- termines it. The second head of external arguments are Witness- es. These may either give their evidence, when ab- sent, in writing subscribed with their name ; or pres- ent, by word of mouth. And what both of them tes- tify, may either be from hearsay, or what they saw themselves, and were present at the time it was done. As the weight of the evidence may be thought greater or less on each of these accounts, either party will make such use of it as he finds to his advantage. The characters of the witnesses are also to be considered ; and if any thing be found in their lives or behaviour that is justly exceptionable to invalidate their evi- dence, it ought not to be omitted. And how they are affected to the contending parties, or either of them, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 323 may deserve consideration : for some allowances may be judged reasonable in case of friendship, or enmity, where there is no room for any other exception. But regard should chiefly be had to what they testify, and how far the cause is effected by it. Cicero is very large upon most of these heads in his defence of Mar- cus Fonteious, with a design to weaken the evidence of the Gauls against him. And where witnesses are produced on one side only, as orators sometimes at- tempt to lessen the credit of this kind of proof, by pleading that witnesses are liable to be corrupted or bi- assed by some prevailing interest or passion to which arguments taken from the nature and circumstances of things are not subject, it may be answered on the other hand, that sophistical arguments, and false col- ourings, are not exposed to infamy or punishment, whereas witnesses are restrained by shame and penal- ties, nor would the law require them if they were not necessary. The third and last head of external arguments are Contracts, which may be either public or private. By public are meant the transactions between different states, as leagues, alliances, and the like ; which de- pend on the laws of nations, and come more properly under deliberative discourses, to which I shall refer them. Those are called private which relate to les- ser bodies or societies of men, and single persons ; and may be either written or verbal. And it is not so much the true meaning and purport of them, that is here considered, as their force and obligation. And as the Roman law declares, Nothing can be more agreeable to human faith, than that persons should stand to their agreements, — therefore in controversies of this 41 324 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. kind, the party whose interest it is that the contract should be maintained will plead that such covenants have the force of private laws, and ought religiously to be observed, since the common affairs of mankind are transacted in that manner ; and therefore to vio- late them is to destroy all commerce and society among men. On the other side it may be said, that justice and equity are chiefly to be regarded, which are im- mutable. And besides, that the public laws are the common rule to determine such differences, which are designed to redress those who are aggrieved. And, in- deed, where a compact has been obtained by force or fraud, it is in itself void, and has no effect either in law or reason. But on the other hand, the Roman lawyers seem to have very rightly determined, that all such obligations as are founded in natural equity, though not binding by national laws, and are there- fore called nuda pacta, ought, however, in honour and conscience, to be performed. Thus I have gone through the common heads of in- vention, both internal and external, which may be of service to an orator, when his view is to inform his hearers, and prove the truth of what he asserts. But the particular application of them, to the several sorts of discourses he may have occasion to treat upon, I shall now proceed to explain. Of the State of a Controversy. The ancients observing, that the principal question or point of dispute, in all controversies, might be re- ferred to some particular head, reduced those heads to a certain number ; that both the nature of the ques- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 325 tion might by that means be better known, and the arguments suited to it be discovered with greater ease. And these heads they call States. By the State of a Contfoversy then we are to un- derstand the principal point in dispute between con- tending parties, upon the proof of which the whole cause or controversy depends. We find it expressed by several other names in ancient writers : as, The con- stitution of the cause. The general head, and The chief question. And as this is the principal thing to be attended to in every such discourse, so it is what first requires the consideration of the speaker, and should be well fixed and digested in his mind before he pro- ceeds to look for arguments proper to support it. For what can be more absurd than for a person to at- tempt the proof of any thing before he has well settled in his own mind a clear and distinct notion what the thing is which he would endeavour to prove : Quintil- ian describes it to, be That kind of question ivhich arises from the first conflict of causes. In judicial ca- ses it immediately follows upon the charge of the plain- tiff, and plea of the defendant. Our common law ex- presses it by one word, namely, the Issue : which in- terpreters explain, by describing it to be, That point of matter depending in suit, whereupon the parties join, and put their cause to the trial. Examples will further help to illustrate this, and render it more evident. In the cause of Milo, the charge of the Clodian party is, Milo killed Clodius. Milo V plea or defence, I kil- led him, but justly. Hence arises this grand question, or state of the cause : Whether it was lawful for Milo to kill Clodius f And that Clodius was lawfully kil- led by Milo, is what Cicero in his defence of Milo 326 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. principally endeavours to prove. This is the main subject of that fine and beautiful oration. The whole of his discourse is to be considered as centering at last in this one point. Whatever different .matters are occasionally mentioned, will, if closely attended to, be found to have been introduced some way or other, the better to support and carry on this design. Now in such cases, where the fact is not denied, but something is offered in its defence, the state of the cause is taken from the defendant's plea, who is oblig- ed to make it good. As in the instance here given, the chief point in dispute was the lawfulness of Milo's action, which it was Cicero's business to demonstrate. But when the defendant denies the fact, the state of the cause arises from the accusation ; the proof of which then lies upon the plaintiff, and not, as in the former case, up on the defendant. So in the cause of Rosci- us, the charge made against him is, That he killed his father. But he denies the fact. The grand question therefore to be argued is : Whether or not he killed his father ? The proof of this lay upon the accusers. And Cicero's design in the defence of him is to show, that they had not made good their charge. But it some- times happens, that the defendant neither absolutely denies the fact, nor attempts to justify it; but only endeavours to qualify it by denying that it is a crime of that nature, or deserves that name by which it is expressed in the charge. We have an example of this proposed by Cicero : A person is accused of sac- rilege, for taking a thing that was sacred, out of a pri- vate house. He oivns the fact, hut denies it to be sa- crilege : since it was committed in a private house, and not in a temple. Hence this question arises : Wheth- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 327 er to take a sacred thing out of a private house is to be deemed sacrilege, or only simple theft ? It lies upon the accuser to prove, what the other denies ; and, therefore, the state of the cause is here also, as well as in the preceding case, taken from the indictment. But besides the principal question, there are other subordinate questions, which follow upon it in the course of a dispute, and should be carefully distin- guished from it : particularly that which arises from the reason or argument which is brought in proof of the principal question. For the principal question itself proves nothing, but is the "thing to be proved, and becomes at last the conclusion of the discourse. Thus in the cause of Milo, his argument is ; / killed Clodius justly ', because he assassinated me. Unless the Clodian party be supposed to deny this, they give up their cause. Hence therefore this subordinate ques- tion follows : Whether Clodius assassinated Milo ? Now Cicero spends much time in the proof of this, as the hinge on which the first question, and consequently the whole cause> depended. For if this was once made to appear, the lawfulness of Milo's killing Clo- dius, which was the grand question or thing to be proved, might be inferred, as an allowed consequence from it. This will be evident, by throwing Milo's argument, as used by Cicero, into the form of a syllo- gism : An assassinator is lawfully killed : Clodius was an assassinator : Therefore he ivas lawfully killed by Milo? whom he assassinated. If the minor proposition of this syllogism was grant- ed, no one would deny the conclusion ; for the Roman 328 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. law allowed of self-defence. But as Cicero was very sensible this would not be admitted, so he takes much pains to bring the court into the belief of it. Now where the argument brought in defence of the second question is contested, or the orator supposes that it may be so, and therefore supports that with another argument, this occasions a third question consequent upon the former ; and in like manner he may proceed to a fourth. But be they more or fewer, they are to be considered but as one chain of subordinate ques- tions dependent upon the first. And though each of them has its particular state, yet none of these is what rhetoricians call The State of the Cause, which is to be understood only of the principal question. And if, as it frequently happens, the first or principal ques- tion is itself directly proved from more than one ar- gument, this makes no other difference, but that all of these arguments, so far as they are followed by others to support them, become a distinct series of subordinate questions, all dependent upon the first. As when Cicero endeavours to prove, that Roscius did not kill his father from two reasons or arguments ; — because he had neither any cause to move him to such a barbarous action, nor any opportunity for it. Moreover, besides these subordinate questions, there are also incidental ones often introduced, which have some reference to the principal question, and contribute towards the proof of it, though they are not necessarily connected with it, or dependent upon it. And each of these also has its State, though dif- ferent from that of the Cause. For every question, or point of controversy, must be stated, before it can be made the subject of disputation. And it is for this RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 329 reason that every new argument advanced by an ora- tor is called a question, because it is considered as a fresh matter of controversy. In Cicero's defence of Milo we meet with several of this sort of questions, occasioned by some aspersions which had been thrown out by the Clodian party to the prejudice of Milo. As, That he was unworthy to see the light who owned he had killed a man. For Milo before his trial had openly confessed he killed Clodius. So likewise, That the senate had declared the killing of Clodius wa& an illegal action. And further, That Pompey, by making a neiv law to settle the manner of Milo's trial, had given his judgment against Milo. Now to each of these Cicero replies, before he proceeds to the principal question. And therefore, though the ques- tion, in which the state of a controversy consists, is said by Quintilian to arise from the first conflict of causes, yet we find by this instance of Cicero, that it is not always the first question in order upon which the orator treats. But it sometimes happens, that the same cause or controversy contains in it more than one state. Thus in judicial causes every distinct charge occasions a new state. All Cicero's orations against Verres re- late to one cause, founded upon a law of the Romans against unjust exactions made by their governours of provinces upon the inhabitant ; but as that prosecu- tion is made up of as many charges as there are ora- tions, every charge or indictment has its different state. So likewise his oration in defence of Ccelius has two states, in answer to a double charge made against him by his adversaries : one, for borrowing money of Clo- dia ? in order to bribe certain slaves to kill a foreign 330 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. embassador ; and the other, for an attempt afterward to poison Clodia herself Besides which there were also several other matters of a less heinous nature, which had been thrown upon him by his accusers, with a design, very likely, to render the two princi- pal charges more credible ; to which Cicero first re- plies in the same manner as in his defence of Milo. Though all the examples we have hitherto brought to illustrate this subject have been taken from judi- cial cases, yet not only these but very frequently dis- courses of the deliberate kind, and sometimes those of the demonstrative, are managed in a controversial way. And all controversies have their state. And, therefore Quintilian very justly observes, that states belong both to general and particular questions, and to all sorts of causes, demonstrative, deliberative, and ju- dicial. In Cicero's oration for the Manilian law, this is the main point in dispute between him and those who opposed that law : Whether Pompey was the fit- test person to be intrusted with the management of the ivar against Mithridates? This is a subject of the de- liberative kind. And of the same nature was that de- bate in the senate concerning the demolition of Car- thage. For the matter in dispute between Cato, who argued for it, and those who were of the contrary opinion, seems to have been this : Whether it was for the interest of the Romans to demolish Carthage ? As to the number of these states, both Cicero and Quintilian reduce them to three. I shall recite Quin- tilian's reason which he gives for this opinion. We must, says he, agree with those whose authority Cicero folloios, who tell us that three things may be inquired into in all disputes ; whether a thing is, what it it, and how it is. And this is the method which nature prescribes. RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 331 For in the first place it is necessary the thing should ex- ist, about which the dispute is : because no judgment can be made either of its nature or quality till its exis^ tence be manifest ; which is therefore the first question. But though it be manifest that a thing is, it does not presently appear what it is ; and when this is known, the quality yet remains ; and after these three are settled, no further inquiry is necessary. Thus far Quintilian. Now the first of these three states is called the con- jectural state ; as if it be inquired, Whether one person killed another. This always follows upon the denial of a fact by one of the parties, as was the case of Roscius. And it receives its name from this, that the judge is left, as it were, to conjecture whether the fact was really committed or not, from the evidence produced on the other side. The second is called the definitive state, when the fact is not denied, but the dispute turns upon the nature of it, and what name is proper to give it ; as in that example of Cicero : Whether to take a sacred thing out of a private house be theft or sacrilege ? For in this case it is necessary to settle the distinct notion of these two crimes, and show their difference. The third is called the state of quality, when the contending parties are agreed both as to the fact, and the nature of it ; but the dispute is Whether it be just or unjust, profitable or unprofitable, and the like : as in the cause of Milo. Aristotle, and from him Vos- sius, adds a fourth state, namely, of quantity; as, Whether an injury be so great us it is said to be. But Quintilian thinks this may be referred to some or other of the preceding states ; since it depends upon the circumstances of the fact, as the intention, time, place, or the like. 42 332- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. From what has been said upon this subject, the use of it may in a good measure appear. For whoever engages in a controversy ought in the first place to consider with himself the main question in dispute, to fix it well in his mind and keep it constantly in his view ; without which he will be very liable to ramble from the point, and bewilder both himself and his hearers. And it is no less the business of the hearers principally to attend to this ; by which means they will be helped to distinguish and separate from the principal question what is only incidental, and to ob- serve how far the principal question is affected by it ; to perceive what is offered in proof, and what is only brought in for illustration; not to be misled by digres- sions, but to discern when the speaker goes off from his subject, and when he returns to it again ; and in a word, to accompany him though the whole discourse, and carry with them the principal chain of reasoning upon which the cause depends, so as to judge upon the whole whether he has made out his point, and the conclusion follows from the premises. The necessity of this is generally the greater in proportion to the length of a discourse, however exact and artful the composi- tion may be. They, who have read Cicero's orations with care, cannot but know, that although they are formed in the most beautiful manner, and wrought up with the greatest skill, yet the matter of them is often so copious, the arguments so numerous, the incidents either to conciliate or move his audience so frequent, and the digressions so agreeable, that without the closest attention it is many times no easy matter to keep his main design in view. A constant and fixed regard therefore to the state of the cause and principal RHETORICAL GRAMMAR^ 333 point in dispute is highly necessary to this end. But though rhetoricians treat of these states only as they relate to controversies, and become the subject matter of dispute between differing parties, yet every dis- course has one or more principal heads, which the speaker chiefly proposes to prove or illustrate. And therefore what has been said upon this subject may likewise be considered as proper to be attended to in all discourses. I have only to add, that hitherto I have treated of the nature and use of the three states so far as relates to them in general ; a more particular account of them, with the arguments which are properly suited to each state, will be next considered. Of Arguments suited to demonstrative Discourses. The general method of deducing arguments from Common Places has been already explained. But more fully to show the use of this subject, and the as- sistance it affords the orator, it may not be improper separately to consider the particular heads which are more especially suited to the several kinds of dis- courses. These are subordinate to the former, and spring from them like branches from the same stock, or rivulets from a common fountain ; as will evidently appear when we come to explain them. This is what I propose to enter upon at present, and shall begin with those which relate to demonstra- tive discourses. And as these consist either in praise or dispraise, agreeably to the nature of all contraries, one of them will serve to illustrate the other. Thus he who knows what arguments are proper to prove 334 RHETORICAL GRAMMAK. the excellency of virtue, and commend it to our es- teem, cannot be much at a loss for such as will show the odious nature of vice, and expose it to every one's abhorrence ; since they are all taken from the same heads, and directly the reverse of each other. In treating therefore upon the topics suited to this kind of discourses, I need only mention those which are requisite for praise ; whence such as are proper for dispraise will easily enough be discovered. Now we praise either persons or things: under which division all beings with their properties and circumstances may he comprehended, so as to take in whatever belongs either to nature or art. But in each part of the division I shall confine my discourse prin- cipally to those subjects relating to social life, in which orator) 7 is more usually conversant. And under the former head which respects persons or intelligent be- ings, I shall only speak of men. The ancient sophists among the Greeks in their laudatory speeches seem rather to have studied how to display their own elo- quence, than to make them serve any valuable pur- poses in life : for their characters were so heightened, like poetical images, as suited them more to excite wonder and surprise than to become the proper sub- jects of imitation. And for this reason Aristotle ex- cludes them from the number of civil discourses, or such as relate to the affairs of society. Though if we consider the nature rather than the abuse of them, they appear to be very proper subjects for an orator, and to come within the main design of his province, which is persuasion. For to what purpose can eloquence be better employed than to celebrate virtuous persons or actions, in such a manner as to excite mankind to RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 335 their imitation, which is the proper end of such dis- courses. And indeed, the panegyrics of the Greeks, which were pronounced in the general assemblies of their several states, seem to have been designed to re- commend virtue by so public a testimony, as appears by that of Isocrates in the praise of the Athenians. For as to the invectives of Demosthenes against king Philip they are rather of the deliberative kind, and so do not come under our present consideration, since the orator's principal view in those discourses is to animate the Athenians in a defence of their liberties by a vigor* ous prosecution of the war against king Philip ; to which end he likewise proposes the fittest methods for carrying it on with success. And most of Cicero's invectives against Mark Antony may be referred to the same kind of discourses. But as it is evident from common observation, that men are more influ- enced by examples than precepts, so the celebrating virtue, and exposing vice, from particular instances in human life, as patterns to others in what they ought to pursue, and what to avoid, has by wise men been generally esteemed very serviceable to mankind. For which reason likewise the transmitting to poster- ity the lives of great and eminent men has met with good acceptance, as a useful and laudable design. And therefore the Romans, who were sensible that such discourses were not only suited for entertainment but might likewise be made very useful to the public, did not confine them to the schools of rhetoricians and the exercises of young persons : for it was their custom, as Quintilian tells us, to have them pronounc- ed in public assemblies, even by magistrates, and sometimes by an order from the senate. So we read 336 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. that a funeral oration was spoken in honour of Junius Brutus by Publieola, his colleague in the consulship. And a like discourse, with a statue and public fune- ral, was decreed by the senate to the honour of M. Ju- ventius. Though afterwards we generally find this office performed by some relation. In compliance with which custom, as Suetonius relates, Augustus, when but twelve years of age, pronounced a funeral discourse in praise of his grandmother Julia. And Tiberius, when but nine years old, paid the like hon- our to his deceased father, as the same historian in- forms us. And Cicero's invective against Piso, with his second against Mark Antony, may be referred to demonstrative discourses, as they respect things that were past, and so could not then be subjects for con- sultation. For all praise or dispraise must either regard what is past or present. And, generally speaking, persons are most affected by present things. Indeed the encomiums of ancient heroes, and their famous actions, are very entertaining, and afford an agreeable pleasure in the recital ; but such examples of virtue, as are still in being, or at least yet fresh in memory, have the greatest influence for imitation. But in praising or dispraising persons, rhetoricians prescribe two methods. One is, to follow the order in which every thing happened that is mentioned in the discourse : the other is, to reduce what is said under certain general heads, without a strict regard to the order of time. In pursuing the former method, the discourse may he very conveniently divided into three periods. The first of which will contain what preceded the person's RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 337 birth ; the second, the whole course of his life ; and the third, what followed upon his death. Under the first of these may be comprehended what is proper to be said concerning his country and family. And, therefore, if these were honourable, it may be said to his advantage, that he no ways dis- graced them, but acted suitably to such a descent. But if they were not so, they may be either wholly omitted, or it may be said, that instead of deriving thence any advantage to his character, he has confer- red a lasting honour upon them ; and that it is not of so much moment where or from whom a person de- rives his birth, as how he lives. In the second period, which is that of his life, the qualities both of his mind and body, with his circum- stances in the world, may be separately considered. Though as Quintilian rightly observes : All external advantages are not praised for themselves, but accord- ing to the use that is made of them. For riches, and power, and interest, as they have great influence and may be applied either to good or bad purposes, are a proof of the temper of our minds, and therefore we are either made better or worse by them. But these things are a just ground for commendation when they are the reward of virtue or industry. Bodily endowments are, health, strength, beauty, activity, and the like ; which are more or less commendable according as they are employed. And where these, or any of them, are wanting, it may be shown that they are abundant- ly compensated by the more valuable endowments of the mind. Nay, sometimes a defect in these may give an advantageous turn to a person's character, for any virtue appears greater in proportion to the dis- 338 - RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. advantages the person laboured under in exerting it. But the chief topics of praise are taken from the vir- tues and qualifications of the mind. And here the orator may consider the disposition, education, learn- ing, and several virtues, which shone through the whole course of the person's life : in doing which, the preference should always be given to virtue above knowledge, or any other accomplishment. And in ac- tions, those are most considerable, and will be heard with greatest approbation, which a person either did alone, or first, or wherein he had fewest associates 5 as likewise those which exceeded expectation, or were done for the advantage of others, rather than his own. And further, as the last scene of a man's life generally commands the greatest regard, if any thing remarka 1 ble at that time was either said or done, it ought par- ticularly to be mentioned. Nor should the manner of his death or cause of it, if accompanied with any com- mendable circumstances, be omitted ; as if he died in the service of his country, or in the pursuit of any other laudable design. The third and last period relates to what followed after the death of the person. And here the public loss and public honours conferred upon the deceased are proper to be mentioned. Sepulchres, statues, and other monuments to perpetuate the memory of the dead at the expense of the public, were in common use both among the Greeks and Romans. But in the earliest times, as these honours were more rare, so they were less costly : for as in one age it was thought a sufficient reward for him who died in the defence of his country to have his name cut in a marble inscrip- tion with the cause of his death, so in others it was RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 339 very common to see the statues of gladiators and per- sons of the meanest rank erected in public places. And therefore a judgment is to be formed of these things from the time, custom, and circumstances of different nations : since the frequency of them renders a them less honourable, and takes off from their evidence as the rewards of virtue. But, as Quintilian says : Children are an honour to their parents, cities to their founders, laws to those who compiled them, arts to their inventors, and useful customs to the authors of them. And this may suffice for the method of praising persons when we propose to follow the order of time, as Isocrates has done in his funeral oration upon Eva- goras, king of Salamis, and Pliny in his panegyric upon the emperor Trajan. But as this method is ve- ry plain and obvious, so it requires the more agreea- ble dress to render it delightful ; lest otherwise it seem rather like a history than an oration. Eor which reason we find that epic poets, as Homer, Vir- gil, and others, begin in the middle of their story, and afterwards take a proper occasion to introduce what preceded, to diversify the subject, and give the great- er pleasure and entertainment to their readers. The other method above hinted was to reduce the discourse to certain general heads, without regarding the order of time. As if any one in praising the elder Cato should propose to do it by showing that he was a most prudent senator, an excellent orator, and most valiant general ; all which commendations are given him by Pliny. In like manner the character of a good general may be comprised under four heads, — skill in military affairs, courage, authority, and success ; for all which Cicero commends Pompey. And agreeably 340 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. to this method Suetonius has written the lives of the first twelve Csesars. But in praising persons, care should always be taken to say nothing that may seem fictitious or out of char- acter, which may call the orator's judgment or integrity in question. It was not without cause therefore, that Lysippus the statuary, as Plutarch tells us, blamed Apelles for painting Alexander the Great with thun- der in his hand ; which could never suit his character as a man, however he might boast of his divine de- scent ; for which reason Lysippus himself made an image of him holding a spear, as the sign of a warrior. Light and trivial things in commendations are like- wise to be avoided, and nothing mentioned but what may carry in it the idea of something truly valuable, and which the hearers may be supposed to wish for, and is proper to excite their emulation. These are the principal heads of praise with relation to men. In dispraise, as was hinted before, the heads contrary to these are requisite ; which being sufficiently clear from what has been said, need not particularly be insisted on. I proceed, therefore, to the other part of the divis- ion, which respects things as distinguished from per- sons. By which we are to understand all beings in- ferior to man, whether animate or inanimate ; as like- wise the habits and dispositions of men either good er bad, when considered separately and apart from their subjects, as arts and sciences, virtues and vices, with whatever else may be a proper subject for praise or dispraise. Some writers indeed have, for their own amusement and the diversion of others, displayed their eloquence in a jocose manner upon subjects of this kind, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 341 So Lucian has written in praise of afly? and Synesius, an elegant encomium upon baldness. Others, on the contrary, have done the like in a satirical way. Such is Seneca's Apotheosis or consecration of the emperor Claudius ; and the Mysopogon or Beard- hater, written by Julian the emperor. Not to mention several modern authors, who have imitated them in such ludicrous compositions. But as to these things, and all of the like nature, the observation of Antonv in Cicero seems very just : That it is not necessary to reduce every subject we discourse upon to rules of art. For many are so trival as not to deserve it ; and others so plain and evident of themselves as not to require it. But since it frequently comes in the way both of ora- tors and historians to describe countries, cities, and facts, I shall briefly mention the principal heads of in- vention proper to illustrate each of these. Countries then may be celebrated from the pleasant- ness of their situation, the clemency and wholesomeness of the air and goodness of the soil, to which last may be referred the springs, rivers, woods, plains, mountains, and minerals. And to all these may be added their extent, cities, the number and antiquity of the inhabitants, tbeir policy, laws, customs, wealth, character for cultivating the arts both of peace and war, their princes, and other eminent men they have produced. Thus Pacatus has given us a very ele- gant description of Spain, in his panegyric upon the emperor Theodosius, who was born there* Cities are praised from much the same topics as countries. And here, whatever contributes either to their defence or ornament ought particularly to be mentioned ; as the strength of the walls and fortiir M2 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. cations, the beauty and splendour of their buildings, whether sacred or civil, public or private. We have in Herodotus a very fine description of Babylon, which was once the strongest, largest, and most regular city in the world. And Cicero has accurately described the city Syracuse, in the island Sicily, in one of his orations against Verres. But facts come much oftener under the cognizance of an orator : and these receive their commendation from their honour, justice,, or advantage. But in describing them, all the circumstances should be related in their proper order, and that in the most lively and affecting manner, suited to their different nature. Livy has represented the demolition of Alba by the Roman army which was sent thither to destroy it. through the whole Course of that melancholy scene, in a style so moving and pathetic, that one can hardly forbear condoling with the inhabitants upon reading his account. But in discourses of this kind, whether of praise or dispraise, the orator should (as he ought indeed upon all occasions) well consider where, and to whom, he speaks : for wise men often think very differently both? of persons and things from the common people. And we find that learned and judicious men are frequently divided in their sentiments from the several ways of thinking to which they have been accustomed. Be- sides, different opinions prevail and gain the ascend- ant at different times. While the Romans continued a free nation, love of their country, liberty, and a public spirit, were principles in the highest esteem among them. And therefore when Cato killed him- self that he might not fall into the hands of Caesar, and survive the liberty of his country, it was thought RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 343 an instance of the greatest heroic virtue ; but after- wards, when they had been accustomed to an arbitra- ry government, and the spirit of liberty was now lost, the poet Martial could venture to say, Death to avoid 'tis madness sure to die. A prudent orator therefore will be cautious of oppos- ing any settled and prevailing notions of those whom he addresses, unless it be necessary ; and then he will do it in the softest and most gentle manner. Now if we look back and consider the several heads of praise enumerated under each of the subjects above mentioned, we shall find they are taken from their nature, properties, circumstances, or some other gen- eral topic, as was intimated in the beginning of this discourse. Of Arguments suited to deliberative Discourses. This kind of discourses must certainly have been very ancient, since doubtless from the first beginning of men's conversing together they deliberated upon their common interest, and offered their advice to each other. All deliberation respects something uture, for it is in vain to consult about what is air ady past. The subject matter of it are either things public or private, sacred or civil : indeed all the valuable concerns of mankind, both present and future, come under its re- gard ; and the end proposed by this kind of discours- es is chiefly profit or interest. But since nothing is truely profitable but what is in some respect good; and every thing which is good in itself may not in all circumstances be for our advantage : properly speak- 344 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. ing, what is both good arid profitable, or beneficial good, is the end here designed. And, therefore, as it sometimes happens, that what appears profitable may seem to interfere with that which is strictly just and honourable, in such cases it is certainly most ad- visable to determine on the safer side of honour and justice, notwithstanding some plausible things may be offered to the contrary. But where the dispute lies apparently between what is truly honest, and some external advantage proposed in opposition to it, all good men cannot but agree in favour of honesty. Now when it proves to be a matter of debate whether a thing upon the whole be really beneficial or not, as here arise two parts, advice and dissuasion, they will each require proper heads of argument : but as they are contrary to each other, he who is acquainted with one cannot well be ignorant of the other. For which reason, as in my last discourse, I recited only the top- ics suited for praise, leaving those for dispraise to be collected from them ; so here, likewise, I shall chiefly mention those proper for advice, whence such as are suited to dissuade will easily be perceived. Now the principal heads of this kind are these following, which are taken from the nature and properties of the thing it- self under consideration. And first, pleasure often aifords a very cogent ar- gument in discourses of this nature. Every one knows what an influence this has upon the generality of man- kind. Though, as Quintilian remarks, pleasure ought not of itself to be proposed as a fit motive for action in serious discourses, but when it is designed to recom- mend something useful, which is the case here. So, would any one advise another to the pursuit of polite RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 345 literature, Cicero has furnished him with a very strong inducement to it fr®m the pleasure which attends that study when he says : If pleasure only was proposed by these studies, you would think them an entertainment becoming a man of sense and a gentleman. For other pursuits neither agree with all times, all ages, nor all places ; but these studies improve youth, delight old age, adorn prosperity, afford a refuge and comfort in adver- sity, divert us at home, are no hindrance abroad, sleep, travel, and retire with us in the country, A second head is profit or advantage, which has no less influence upon many persons than the former, and, when it respects things truly valuable, is a very just and laudable motive. Thus Cicero, when he sends his Books of Offices to his son, which he wrote in Latin for his use, advises him to make the best ad- vantage both of his tutor's instructions and the con- versation at Athens, where he then was, but withal to peruse his philosophical treatises, which would be doubly useful to him, not only upon account of the subjects, but likewise of the language, as they would enable him to express himself upon those arguments in Latin, which before had only beeu treated of in Greek. The last head of this kind which I shall mention is honour. And no argument will sooner prevail with generous minds, or inspire them with greater ardour. Virgil has very beautifully described Hector's ghost appearing to iEneas, the night Troy was taken, and advising him to depart, from this motive of honour, O goddess-born, escape by timely flight The flames and horrours of this fatal night. The foes already have possess'd the wall, Troy nods from high, and totters to her fall. 346 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR, Enough is paid to Priam's royal name ; More than enough to duty and to fame. If by a mortal hand my father's throne Could be defended, 'twas by mine alone, The argument here made use of to persuade iEneas to leave Troy immediately is, that he had already done all that could be expected from him, either as a good subject, or brave soldier, both for his king and country, which was sufficient to secure his honour : and now there was nothing more to be expected from him when the city was falling and impossible to be saved ; which, could it have been preserved by hu- man power, he himself had done. But although a thing considered in itself appear beneficial if it could be attained, yet the expediency of undertaking it may still be questionable ; in which case the following heads, taken from the circumstan- ces which attend it, will afford proper arguments to engage in it. And first the possibility of succeeding may sometimes be argued as one motive to this end. So Hannibal endeavoured to convince king Antiochus, that it was possible for him to conquer the Romans if he made Italy the seat of war ; by observing to him, not only that the Gauls had formerly destroyed their city, but that he had himself defeated them in every battle he fought with them in that country. But the bare possibility of a triing is seldom a suf- ficient motive to undertake it, unless on very urgent occasions. And therefore an argument founded upon probability will be much more likely to prevail. For, in many affairs of human life, men are determined either to prosecute them or not, as the prospect of success appears more or less probable. Hence Ciee- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 34? ro, after the fatal battle of Pharsalia, dissuades those of Pompey's party, with whom he was engaged, from continuing the war any longer against Caesar; be- cause it was highly improbable after such a defeat, by which their main strength was broken, that they should be able to stand their ground, or meet with better success than they had before. But further: since probability is not a motive strong enough with many persons to engage in the prosecution of a thing which is attended with consid- erable difficulties, it is often necessary to represent the facility of doing it as a further reason to induce them to it. And therefore Cicero makes use of this argument to encourage the Roman citizens in oppos- ing Mark Antony (who upon the death of Caesar had assumed an arbitary power) by representing to them that his circumstances were then desperate, and that he might easily be vanquished. Again : if the thing advised to can be shown to be in any respect necessary, this will render the motive still much stronger for undertaking it. And therefore Cicero joins this argument with the former, to prevail with the Roman citizens to oppose Antony, by telling them, that the consideration before them was not in what circumstances they should live, but whether they should live at all, or die with ignominity and disgrace. This way of reasoning will sometimes prevail when all others prove ineffectual. For some persons are not to be moved till things are brought to an extremity, and they find themselves reduced to the utmost dan- ger. To these heads may be added the consideration of the event, which in some cases carries great weight with 44 348 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. it : — as when we advise to the doing of a thing from this motive, that whether it succeed or not it will yet be of service to undertake it. So, after the great victory gained by Themistocles over the Persian fleet at the straits of Salamis, Mardonius advised Xerxes to return into Asia himself, lest the report of his defeat should occasion an insurrection in his absence : but to leave behind him an army of three hundred thou- sand men under his command ; with which if he should conquer Greece, the chief glory of the conquest would redound to Xerxes ; but, if the design miscar- ried, the disgrace would fall upon his generals. These are the principal heads which furnish the orator with proper arguments in giving advice. Cicero in his oration for the Manilian law, where he endeav- ours to persuade the Roman people to choose Pompey for their general in the Mithridatic war, reasons from three of these topics, into which he divides his whole discourse ; namely, the necessity of the war, the greatness of it, the choice of a proper general. Under the first of these he shows that the war was necessary from four considerations ; the honour of the Roman state, the safety of their allies, their own revenues and the fortunes of many of their fellow citizens, which, were all highly concerned in it, and called upon them to put a stop to the growing power of king Mithrida- tes by which they were all greatly endangered. So that this argument is taken from the head of necessity. The second, in which he treats of the greatness of the war, is founded upon the topic of possibility. For though he shows the power of Mithridates to be very great, yet not so formidable but that he might be sub- dued ; as was evident from the many advantages Lu- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 349 eullus had gained over him and his associates. In the third head he endeavours to prevail with them to entrust the management of the war in the hands of Pompey, whom he describes as a consummate general for his skill in military affairs, courage, authority, and success, in all which qualities he represents him as superior to any other of their generals whom they could at that time make choice of. The design of all which was to persuade them they might have very good reason to hope for success, and a happy event of the war under his conduct. So that the whole force of his reasoning under this head is drawn from probability. These are the three general topics which make up that fine discourse ; each of which is indeed supported by divers other arguments and considera- tions, which will be obvious in perusing the oration itself, and therefore need not be here enumerated. On the contrary, in another oration he endeavours to dissuade the senate from consenting to a peace with Mark Antony, because it was base, dangerous, and impracticable. But no small skill and address are required in giv- ing advice. For, since the tempers and sentiments of mankind, as well as their circumstances, are very different and various, it is often necessary to accommo- date the discourse to their inclinations and opinions of things : and therefore the weightiest arguments are not always the most proper and the fittest to be used on all occasions. Cicero, who was an admirable mas- ter of this art, and knew perfectly well how to suit what he said to the taste and relish of his hearers, in treating upon this subject, distinguishes mankind into two sorts — the ignorant and unpolished, who always 350 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. prefer profit to honour ; and such as are more civil- ized and polite, who prefer honour and reputation to all other things. Wherefore they are to be moved by these different views : praise, glory, and virtue, influence the one ; while the other is only to be en- gaged by a prospect of gain and pleasure. Besides, it is plain, that the generality of mankind are much more inclined to avoid evils than to pursue what is good, and to keep clear of scandal and disgrace than to practise what is truly generous and noble. Persons likewise of a different age act from different princi- ples ; young men for the most part view things in an- other light from those who are older and have had more experience, and consequently are not to be in- fluenced from the same motives. Every nation also has its particular customs, manners, and polity, which give a different turn to the genius of the inhabitants. The speech of Alexander, made to his soldiers before he engaged the Persians, as we have it in Curtius, is finely wrought up in this respect. For, as his army was composed of different nations, the parts of his discourse are admirably well suited to their several views in prosecuting the war. He reminds his coun- trymen, the Macedonians, of their former victories in Europe ; and tells them, that Persia is not to be the boundary of their conquest, but they are to extend them further than either Hercules or Bacchus had done : that Bactra and the Indies would be theirs, and that what they saw was but a small part of what they were to possess : that neither the rocks of Illyr- ium, nor the mountains of Thrace, but the spoils of the whole East were now before them : that the con- quest would be so easy they would scarce have occa- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 351 sion to draw their swords, but they might push the enemy with their bucklers. Then he reminds them of their subduing the Athenians under his father Philip, and the late conquest of Bceotia, the victory at the river Granicus, and the many cities and coun- tries now behind them and under their subjection. When he addresses the Greeks, he tells them, they are now going to engage with those that had been the enemies of their country, first by the insolence of Da- rius, and afterwards of Xerxes, who would have de- prived them even of the necessaries of life, who de- stroyed their temples, demolished their towns, and violated both their sacred and civil rights. And then directing his discourse to the Illyrians and Thracians, who were accustomed to live by plunder, he encour- aged them with the prospect of booty from the rich armour and furniture of the Persians, which they might be masters of with the greatest ease ; and tells them, they would now exchange their barren mountains and snowy hills for the fertile country and fields of Persia. Of Arguments suited to judicial Discourses. In judicial controversies there are two parties, the" plaintiff or prosecutor, and the defendant or person charged. The subject of them is always something past. And the end proposed by them Cicero calls equity, or right and equity ; the former of which arises from the laws of the country, and the latter from rea- son and the nature of things. For at Rome the prae- tors had a court of equity, and were empowered, in many cases relating to property, to relax the rigour 352 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. of the written laws. But as this subject is very copi- ous, and causes may arise from a great variety of things, writers have reduced them to three heads, which they call states, to some one of which all judicial proceedings may be referred ; namely, whether a thing is, what it is, or how it is. By the state of a cause therefore is meant the principal question in dispute, upon which the whole affair depends ; which, if it stops in the first inquiry, and the defendant denies the fact, the state is called conjectural ; but if the fact be acknowledged, and yet denied to be what the ad- versary calls it, it is termed definitive; but if there is no dispute either about the fact or its name, but only the justice of it, it is called the state of quality ; as was shown more largely before. But I then con- sidered these states only in a general view, and defer- red the particular heads of argument proper for each of them to this judicial kind of discourses ; where they most frequently occur, and from which examples may easily be accommodated to other subjects. And this is what I am now particularly to treat of. All judicial causes are either private or public. They are called private, which relate to the right of particular persons ; and they are likewise called civil causes, as they are conversant about matters of prop- erty. Public causes are those which relate to public justice and the government of the state ; which are also called criminal, because by them crimes are prose- cuted, whether capital or those of a less heinous na- ture. I shall take the heads of the arguments only from this latter kind, because they are more copious and easy to be illustrated by examples : from which RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 353 such as agree to the former, namely, civil causes, will sufficiently appear. And I shall begin with the conjectural state, which comes first in the order of inquiry. When therefore the accused person denies the fact, there are three things which the prosecutor has to consider : Wheth- er he would have done it, whether he could, and whether he did it. And hence arise three topics ; from the Will, the Power, and the Signs, or circum- stances which attended the action. The affections of the mind discover the Will; as, passion, an old grudge, a desire of revenge, a resentment of an injury, and the like. Therefore Cieero argues from Clodius's hatred of Milo, that he designed his death, and thence infers that he was the aggressor in the combat between them, wherein Clodius was killed. This is what he principally endeavours to prove, and comes properly under this state : for Milo owned that he killed him, but alleged that he did it in his own defence. So that in regard to this point, which of them assaulted the other, the charge was mutual. The prospect of ad- vantage may also be alleged to the same purpose. Hence it is said of L. Cassius, that whenever he sat as judge in a case of murder, he used to advise and move the court to examine to whom the advantage arose from the death of the deceased. And Cicero puts this to Antony concerning the death of Caesar. If any one, says he, should bring you upon trial, and use that saying of Cassius, cui bono ? who got by it ? look to it, I beseech you, that you are not confounded. To these arguments may be added hope of impunity, taken either from the circumstances of the accused person, or of him who suffered the injury. For per- 354 11HET0R1CAL GRAMMAll. sons who have the advantage of interest, friends, pow- er, or money, are apt to think they may easily es- cape ; as likewise such who have formerly committed other crimes with impunity. Thus Cicero represents Clodius as hardened in vice, and above all the restraint of laws, from having so often escaped punishment up- on committing the highest crimes. On the contrary, such a confidence is sometimes raised from the condi- tion of the injured party, if he is indigent, obscure, timorous, or destitute of friends ; much more if he has an ill reputation, or is loaded with popular hatred and resentment. It was this presumption of the ob- scurity of Roscius, who lived in the country, and of his want of interest at Rome, which encouraged his accusers to charge him with killing his father, as Cic- ero shows in his defence of him. Lastly, the temper of a person, his views, and manner of life, are con- siderations of great moment in this matter. For per- sons of bad morals, and such as are addicted to vice, are easily thought capable of committing any wicked- ness. Hence Sallust argues from the evil disposition and vicious life of Catiline, that he aifected to raise himself upon the ruins of his country. The second head is the power of doing a thing; and there are three things which relate to this, the place, the time, and opportunity. As, if a crime is said to have been com- mitted in a private place where no other person was present; or in the night; or when the injured person was unable to provide for his defence. Under this head may likewise be brought in the circumstances of the persons ; as if the accused person was stronger, and so able to overpower the other; or more active, and so could easily make his escape. Cicero makes RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 355 great use of this topic in the case of Milo, and shows that Clodius had all the advantages of place, time, and opportunity, to execute his design of killing him. The third head are the signs, and circumstances which either preceded, accompanied, or followed the com- mission of the fact. So threats, or the accused person being seen at or near the place before the fact was committed, are circumstances that may probably pre- cede murder ; fighting, crying out, bloodshed, are such as accompany it ; paleness, trembling, inconsis- tent answers, hesitation, or faltering of speech, some- thing found upon the person accused which belonged to the deceased, are as such as follow. Thus Cicero proves that Clodius had threatened the death of Milo, and given out that he should not live above three days at the furthest. These arguments, taken from con- jectures, are called presumptions, which, though they do not directly prove that the accused person commit- ted the fact with which he is charged, yet when being- laid together they appeared very strong, sentence by the Roman law might sometimes be given upon them to convict him. These are the topics from which the prosecutor takes his arguments. Now the business of the defend- ant is to invalidate these. Therefore such as are brought from the will, he either endeavours to show are not true, or so weak as to merit very little regard. And he refutes those taken from the power, by proving that he wanted either opportunity or ability : as, if he can show that neither the place nor time, insisted on, was at all proper, or that he was then in another place. In like manner he will endeavour to confute the cir- cumstances, if they cannot directly be denied, by show- 45 356 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. ing that they are not such as do necessarily accom- pany the fact, but might have proceeded from other causes, though nothing of what is alleged had been committed ; and it will be of great service to assign some other probable cause. But sometimes the de- fendant does not only deny that he did the fact, but charges it upon another. Thus Cicero, in his oration for Roscius, not only defends him from each of these three heads, but likewise charges the fact upon his ac- cusers. I come now to the definitive state, which is princi- pally concerned in defining and fixing the name prop- er to the fact. Thouoh orators seldom make use of o exact definitions, but commonly choose larger descrip- tions, taken from various properties of the subject or thing described. The heads of argument in this state are much the same to both parties. For each of them defines the fact his own way, and endeavours to refute the others definition. We may illustrate this by an example from Quintilian : A person is accused of socrilege, for stealing money out of a temple, which belonged to a pri- vate person. The fact is owned, but the question is, Whether it be properly sacrilege? The prosecutor calls it so, because it was taken out of a temple. But since the money belonged to a private person, the de- fendant denies it to be sacrilege, and says it is only simple theft. Now the reason why the defendant uses this plea, and insists upon the distinction, is, be- cause by the Roman law the penalty of the theft was only four times the value of what was stolen ; where- as sacrilege was punished with death. The prosecu- tor then forms his definition agreeably to his charge, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 357 and says : To steal any thing out of a sacred place is sacrilege. But the defendant excepts against this de- finition as defective ; and urges that it does not amount to sacrilege unless the thing stolen was like- wise sacred. And this case might once perhaps have been a matter of controversy, since we find it express- ly determined in the Pandects, that, An action of sac- rilege should not lie, but only of theft, against any ivho should steal the goods of private persons deposited in a temple. The second thing is the proof brought by each par- ty to support his definition, as in the example given us by Cicero, of one, ivho carried his cause by bribery, and was afterwards prosecuted again upon an action of prevarication. Now if the defendant was cast upon this action, he was by the Roman law subjected to the penalty of the former prosecution. Here the prose- cutor defines prevarication to be, any bribery or cor- ruption in the defendant, with a design to pervert jus- tice. The defendant therefore, on the other hand, restrains it to bribing only the prosecutor. And if this latter sense agree better with the com- mon acceptation of the word, the prosecutor in the third place pleads the intention of the law, which was to comprehend all bribery in judicial matters under the term of prevarication. In answer to which the de- fendant endeavours to show, either from the head of contraries, that a real prosecutor and a prevaricator are used as opposite terms in the law, or from the etymology of the word, that a prevaricator denotes one who pretends to appear in the prosecution of a cause, while in reality he favours the contrary side ; and consequently that money given for this end only, can, in the sense of the law, be called prevarication. 358 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. Lastly, the prosecutor pleads, it is unreasonable that he, who does not deny the fact, should escape by a cavil about a word. But the defendant insists upon his explication, as agreeable to the law, and says the fact is misrepresented and blackened by affixing to it a wrong name. The third state is that of quality, in which the dis- pute turns upon the justice of an action. And here the defendant does not deny he did the thing he is charged with, but asserts it to be right and equitable, from the circumstances of the case, and the motives which induced him to it. And first, he sometimes alleges the reason of doing it was in order to prevent some other thing of worse consequence, which would otherwise have happened. We have an instance of this in the life of Epaminon- das, who, with two other generals joined in the com- mand with him, marched the Theban army into Pe- loponnesus against the Lacedaemonians ; but by the influence of a contrary faction at home their commis- sions were superseded, and other generals sent to command the army. But Epaminondas, being sensible that if he obeyed this order at that time it would be attended with the loss of the whole army, and conse- quently the ruin of the state, refused to do it 5 and having persuaded the other generals to do the like, they happily finished the war in which they were en- gaged ; and upon their return home, Epaminondas taking the whole matter upon himself, on his trial was acquitted. The arguments proper in this case are taken from the justice, usefulness, or necessity of the action. The accuser therefore will plead, that the fact was not just, profitable, nor necessary, considered RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 359 either in itself, or comparatively with that for the sake of which it is said to have been done. And he will endeavour to show, that what the defendant as- signs for the reason of what he did, might not have happened as he pretends. Besides, he will represent of what ill consequence it must be, if such crimes go unpunished. The defendant, on the other hand, will argue from the same heads, and endeavour to prove the fact was just, useful, or necessary. And he will further urge, that no just estimate can be made of any action but from the circumstances which attend it ; as the design, occasion, and motives for doing it ; which he will represent in the most favourable light to his own cause, and endeavour to set them in such a view as to induce others to think they could not but have done the same in the like circumstances. Again ; the cause of an action is sometimes charg- ed by the defendant upon the party who received the damage, or some other person who either made it necessary, or enjoined him to do it. The first of these was Milo's plea for killing Clodius, because he assaulted him with a design to take away his life. Here the fact is not denied as in the case of Roscius above mentioned, under the conjectural state, but jus- tified from the reason of doing it. For that an as- sassinator might justly be killed, Cicero shows both from law and reason. The accuser therefore in such a case will, if there be room for it, deny the truth of this allegation. So the friends of Clodius affirmed that Milo was the aggressor, and not Clodius ; which Cicero, in his defence of Milo, principally labours to refute. In the second case the prosecutor will sav, no one .ought to offend because another has offended 360 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. first ; which defeats the course of public justice, ren- ders the laws useless, and destroys the authority of the magistrate. The defendant, on the other hand, will endeavour to represent the danger and necessity of the case, which required an immediate remedy, and in that manner ; and urges that it was vain and im- practicable to wait for redress in the ordinary way, and therefore no ill consequence can arise to the public. Thus Cicero in defending Sextius, who was prosecut- ed for a riot, in bringing armed men icto the forum, shows that his design was only to repel force with force : which was then necessary, there being no other means left for the people to assemble, who were ex- cluded by a mob of the contrary party. Of the third case we have also an example in Cicero, who tells us, that, in making a league between the Romans and Samnites, a certain young nobleman was ordered by the Roman general to hold the swine (designed for a sacri- fice ;) but the senate afterwards disapproving the terms, and delivering up their general to the Samnites, it was moved, whether this young man ought not likewise to be giv- en up. Those who were for it might say, that to allege the command of another is not a sufficient plea for doing an ill action. And this is what the Roman law now expressly declares. But in answer to that it might be replied ; that it was his duty to obey the command of his general, who was answerable for his own orders, and not those who were obliged to execute them ; and therefore to give up this young nobleman would be to punish one person for the fault of another. Lastly, a fact is sometimes rather excused than defended, by pleading that it was not done designedly, or with any ill intent. This is called concession, and contains two RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 361 parts, apology, and entreaty. The former represents the matter as the effect of inadvertency, chance or ne- cessity. Aristotle gives us an example of inadverten- cy or imprudence in a woman at Athens, who gave a young man a love portion which killed him ; for which she was tried, hut acquitted. Though afterwards this was made criminal by the Roman law. The case of Adrastus, as related by Herodotus, is an instance of chance; who being intrusted by Croesus with the care of his son, as they were hunting, killed him accidentally with a javelin which he threw at a boar. It is necessi- ty, when a person excuses his making a default from stress of weather, sickness, or the like. Thus Cicero pleaded his illness, contracted by the fatigue of a long journey, as an excuse for not appearing in the senate upon the summons of Mark Antony ; who threatened to oblige him to it by pulling his house down. But what the defendant here attributes to inadvertency, chance, or necessity, the opposite party will attribute to design, negligence, or some other culpable reason ; and represent it as a matter injurious to the public to introduce such precedents ; and also produce instan- ces, if that can be done, were the like excuses have not been admitted. On the other hand, the defend- ant will insist on his innocence, and show the hard- ship and severity of judging men's actions rather by the event than from the intention : that such a procedure makes no difference between the innocent and the guilty, but must necessarily involve many honest men in ruin and destruction, discourage all virtuous and generous designs, and turn greatly to the prejudice of human society. He will also consider the instances alleged by the accuser, and show the 362 KHETOIilCAL GRAMMAR. difference between them and his own case. And, lastly, he will have recourse to entreaty, or a submis- sive address to the equity and clemency of the court or party offended, for pardon ; as Cicero has done in his oration to Caesar, in favour of Ligarius. These instances are sufficient to show the nature of the arguments suited to judicial discourses, which are deduced from a variety of the general topics. Of the Character and Address of an Orator. Having in several discourses considered and ex- plained the first part of invention, which furnishes the orator with such arguments as are necessary for the proof of his subject, I am next to show what are the proper means to conciliate the minds of his hear- ers, to gain their affection, and to recommend both himself and what he says to their good opinion and esteem. For the parts of invention are commonly thus distinguished ; that the first respects the subject of the discourse, the second the speaker, and the third the hearers. Now the second of these, which is what I am at present to explain, is by Quintilian called a propriety of manners. And in order to express this, it is necessary, as he tells us, that every thing appear easy and natural, and the disposition of the speaker be discovered by his words. We may form an easy con- ception of this from the conduct of such persons who are most nearly concerned in each other's welfare. As when relations or friends converse together upon any affairs of importance, the temper and disposition of the speaker plainly shows itself by his words and manner of address. And what nature here directs to RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 363 without colouring or disguise, the orator is to endeav- our to perform by his art. Though, indeed, if what a person says be inconsistent with his usual conduct and behaviour at other times, he cannot expect it should gain much credit, or make any deep impres- sion upon his hearers : which may be one reason why the ancient rhetoricians make it so necessary a qualification in an orator, that he be a good man ; since he should always be consistent with himself, and, as we say, talk in character. And therefore it is highly requisite, that he should not only gain the skill of assuming those qualities, which the nature and cir- cumstances of his discourse require him to express, but, likewise, that he should use his utmost endeav- ours to get the real habits implanted in his mind : for as by this means they will be always expressed with greater ease and facility, so, by appearing constantly in the course of his life, they will have more weight and influence upon particular occasions. Now there are four qualities more especially suited to the character of an orator, which should always ap- pear in his discourses, in order to render what he says acceptable to his hearers ; and these are, wisdom, integrity, benevolence, and modesty. Wisdom is necessary, because we easily give in to the opinion of those whom we esteem wiser and more knowing than ourselves. Knowledge is very agreea- ble and pleasant to all, but few make very great im- provements in it. Such, therefore, who either cannot or do not care to give themselves the trouble of ex- amining into things themselves, must take up with the representation of others ; and it is an ease to them to hear the opinion of persons whom thev esteem wis- 46 364 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. er than themselves. No one loves to be deceived ; and such who are fearful of being misled are pleased to meet with a person in whose wisdom, as they think, they can safely trust. The character of wisdom, therefore, is of great service to an orator, since the greater part of mankind are swayed by authority rath- er than arguments. But this of itself is not sufficient, unless the opinion of integrity be joined with it. Nay, so far from it, that the greater knowledge and understanding a man is supposed to have, unless he likewise have the char- acter of an honest man, he is often the more suspect- ed. For knowledge without honesty is generally thought to dispose a person, as well as qualify him to deceive. Quintilian, in treating upon narration, has a very remarkable passage to this purpose, which I shall here transcribe. / must not omit, says he, how much the authority of the speaker gives credit to what he relates, which is to he gained principally by his life, and partly from his manner of speaking. And what Quintilian observes here with respect to narration, the best writers all recommend as necessary through the whole conduct of an orator. And to both these qualities the appearance of kind- ness and benevolence should likewise be added. For though a person have the reputation of wisdom and honesty, yet if we apprehend he is either not well affected to us, or at least regardless of our interest, we are in many cases apt to be jealous of him. Man- kind are naturally swayed by their affections, and much influenced through love or friendship ; and therefore nothing has a greater tendency to induce ppT^oni ^0 credit tfhat is said, than intimations of af- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 365 lection and kindness. The best orators have been al- ways sensible what great influence the expressions of. kindness and benevolence have upon the minds of others, to induce them to believe the truth of what they say ; and therefore they frequently endeavour to impress them with the opinion of it. Thus Demos- thenes begins his celebrated oration for Ctesiphon : It is my hearty prayer ; says he, to all the deities, that this my defence may be received by you with the same affection which I have always expressed for you and your city. And it is a very fine image of it which we have in Cicero, where, in order to influence the judges in favour of Milo, he introduces him speaking thus, as became a brave man, and a patriot, even upon the supposition he should be condemned by them : Ibid my fellow citizens adieu ; may they continue flourishing and prosperous ! may this famous city be preserved, my most dear country, however it has treated me! may my fellow citizens enjoy peace and tranquillity without me, since I am not to enjoy it with them, though I have pro- cured it for them ! I will withdraw, I will be gone. The fourth and last quality above mentioned, as necessary to the character of an orator, is modesty* And it is certain, that what is modestly spoken is gen- erally better received than what carries in it an air of boldness and confidence. Most persons, though igno- rant of a thing, do not care to be thought so, and would have some deference paid to their understand- ing. But he who delivers himself in an arrogant and assuming way seems to upbraid his hearers with igno- rance, while he does not leave them to judge for them* selves, but dictates to them, and, as it were, demands their assent to what he says ; which is certainly a ve- 366 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. ry improper method to win upon them. For not a few, when convinced of an error in such a way, will not own it, but will rather adhere to their former opinion than seem forced to think right, when it gives another the opportunity of a triumph. A prudent ora- tor, therefore, will behave himself with modesty, that he may not seem to insult his hearers ; and will set things before them in such an engaging manner as may remove all prejudice, either from his person, or what he asserts. But, at the same time, firmness and reso- lution are as necessary as modesty, that he may ap- pear to confide in the justice and truth of his cause. For to speak timorously, and with hesitation, destroys the credit of what is offered ; and so far as the speak- er seems to distrust what he says himself, he often in- duces others to do the like. But, as has been said already, great care is to be taken that these characters do not appear feigned and counterfeit. For what is fictitious can seldom be long concealed. And if this be once discovered, it makes all that is said suspected, however specious it may otherwise appear. If men always loved truth for its own excellency, it would be sufficient to propose it clearly and plainly ; nor would the assistance of art be necessary, in order to induce them to embrace it. But it frequently happens, that truth clashes with what men account their interest, and for that rerrson they will not regard it. An ungrateful truth will either not be heard, or soon discarded. * And many times where persons cannot contradict what is offered, yet, if that contradict their settled opinions, they will still suppose it may not be true. Nor is it a difficult thing for persons to bring themselves to such a belief, RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 367 while they forbear calmly and seriously to consider the arguments offered on the other side. And since matters are thus, it is often necessary for the orator to have recourse to art, in order to obtain that which otherwise he cannot come at. For this purpose, there- fore, it is very serviceable to accommodate his dis- course to the temper and inclination of his audience. Nor indeed can any one reasbnably hope to succeed in this province without well considering the circum- stances of time and place, with the sentiments and dis- positions of those to whom he speaks ; which, accord- ing to Aristotle, may be distinguished four ways, as they discover themselves by the several affections, habits, ages, and fortunes of mankind. And each of these requires a different conduct and manner of address. The affections denote certain emotions of the mind, which, during their continuance, give a great turn to the disposition. For love prompts to one thing, and hatred to another. The like may be said of anger, lenity, and the rest of them : as I shall show, when I come to treat of them particularly. Persons differ likewise according to the various habits of their mind. So a just man is inclined one way, and an unjust man another; a temperate man to this, and an intemperate man to the contrary. And as to the several ages of men, Aristotle has described them very accurately, and how persons are differently affected in each of them. I shall content myself with the substance of what he says, to prevent being tedious. He divides the lives of men, consider- ed as hearers, into three stages ; — youth, middle age, and old age. Young men, he says, have generally strong passions, and are very eager to obtain what 368 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. they desire : but are likewise very mutable, so that the same thing does not please them long. They are ambitious of praise, and quick in their resent- ments ; lavish of their money, as not having experi- enced the want of it : frank and open, because they have not often been deceived ; and credulous for the same reason. They readily hope the best, because they have not suffered much, and are therefore not so sensible of the uncertainty of human affairs ; for which reason they are likewise more easily deceived. They are modest from their little acquaintance with the world. They love company and cheerfulness, from the briskness of their spirits ; and think well of their friends. They imagine they know more than they do, and for that reason are apt to be too positive. In a word, they generally exceed in what they do, love violently, hate violently, and act in the same manner through the rest of their conduct. The disposition of old men is generally contrary to the former. They are cautious, and enter upon noth- ing hastily ; having in the course of many years been often imposed upon, having often erred, and experi- enced the prevailing corruption of human affairs; for which reason they are likewise suspicious, and moderate in their affections, either of love or hatred. They pursue nothing great and noble, and regard on- ly the necessaries of life. They love money, having learnt by experience the difficulty of getting it, and how easily it is lost. They are fearful, which makes them provident — commonly full of complaints from bodily infirmities, and a deficiency of spirits — please themselves rather with the memory of what is past than any future prospect, having so short a view of RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 369 life before them, in comparison of what is already gone ; for which reason also they love to talk of things past, and prefer them to what is present, of which they have but little relish, and know they must short- ly leave them. They are soon angry, but not to ex- cess. Lastly, they are compassionate, from a sense of their own infirmities, which makes them think them- selves of all persons most exposed. Persons of a middle age, betwixt these two extremes, as they are freed from the rashness and temerity of youth, so they have not yet suffered the decays of old age. Hence in every thing they generally observe a better conduct. They are neither so hasty in their assent as the one, nor so minutely scrupulous as the other, but weigh the reasons of things. They regard a decency in their actions, are careful and industrious ; and, as they undertake what appears just and lauda- ble upon better and more deliberate consideration than young persons, so they pursue them with more vigor and resolution than those who are older. As to the different f 01 tunes of mankind, they may be considered as noble, rich, or powerful ; and the contrary to these. Those of high birth, and noble extraction, are generally very tender of their honour, and ambitious to increase it ; it being natural for all persons to desire an addition to those advantages, of which they find themselves already possessed. And they are apt to consider all others as much their infe- riors, and therefore expect great regard and deference should be shown them. Riches, when accompanied with a generous temper, command respect from the opportunities they give of being useful to others ; but: they usually elate the mind, and occasion pride. For 370 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. as money is commonly said to command all things, those who are possessed of a large share of it expect others should be at their beck ; since they enjoy that which all desire, and most persons make the main pursuit of their lives to obtain. But nothing is more apt to swell the mind than power. This is what all men naturally covet, even when perhaps they would not use it. But the views of such persons are gene- rally more noble and generous than of those who only pursue riches, and the heaping up of money. A state contrary to these gives a contrary turn of mind ; and, in lower life, persons' dispositions usually differ ac- cording to their stations and circumstances. A citizen and a courtier, a merchant and a soldier, a scholar and a peasant, as their pursuits are different, so is gen- erally their turn and disposition of mind. It is the orator's business, therefore, to consider these several characters and circumstances of life, with the different bias and way of thinking they give to the mind ; that he may so conduct himself in his be- haviour and manner of speaking, as will render him most acceptable, and gain him the good esteem of those whom he addresses. Of the Passions. The third and last part of rhetorical invention re- lates to the passions, of which I am now to discourse. And as it is often highly necessary for the orator, so it requires his greatest skill to engage these in his in- terest. Quintilian calls this, The soul and spirit of his art. And, doubtless, nothing more discovers its empire over the minds of men than this power to ex- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 371 cite, appease, and sway their passions, agreeably to the design of the speaker. Hence we meet with the characters of admirable, divine, and other splendid ti- tles ascribed to eloquence by ancient writers. There is nothing great or noble to be performed in life, wherein the passions are not concerned. The stoics, therefore, who were for eradicating the passions, both maintained a thing in itself impossible; and which, if it was possible, would be of the greatest prejudice to mankind. For while they appeared such zealous asserters of the government of reason, they scarce left it any thing to govern ; for the authority of reason is principally exercised in ruling and moderating the passions, which, when kept in a due regulation, are the springs and motives to virtue. Thus hope pro- duces patience, and fear industry, and the like might be shown of the rest. The passions, therefore, are not to be extirpated, as the stoics asserted, but put under the direction and conduct of reason. Indeed, where they are ungovernable, and, instead of obeying, command, they are, as some have fitly called them, diseases of the mind, and frequently hurry men into vice, and the greatest misfortunes of life. Just as the wind, when it blows moderately, carries on the ship ; but if it be too boisterous and violent, may overset her. The charge, therefore, brought against this art, for giving rules to influence the passions, appears groundless and unjust; since the proper use of the passions is not to hinder the exercise of reason, but to engage men to act agreeably to reason : and if an, ill use be sometimes made of this, it is not the fault of the art but of the artist. So moralists explain the nature both of virtues and vices, that men may know 47 372 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. better how to practise one, and avoid the other ; but if their precepts happen to have a different effect, they are not answerable for that. But that an orator may be enabled to manage this part of his province to the best advantage, it is neces- sary he should, in some measure, be acquainted with the nature, causes, and objects of the passions. Now the passions, as denned by Aristotle, are, Commotions of the mind, under the influence of which men think differently concerning the same things. Thus a thing appears good to him who desires it ; though it may not appear so to another, or to the same person at a different time. Writers are not agreed as to the num- ber of the passions. But I shall wave this dispute, as the more proper business of philosophy, and only consider them as they come under the cognizance of the orator. And that I may proceed in some order, I shall treat of them as they may be separately refer- red, either to demonstrative, deliberative, or judicial discourses ; though they are not wholly confined to any of them. To the demonstrative kind we may refer joy and sorrow, love and hatred, emulation and contempt. Joy is an elation of the mind, arising from a sense of some present good. Such a reflection naturally creates a pleasant and agreeable sensation, which ends in a delightful calm and serenity. This is heightened by a description of former evils, and a comparison between them and the present felicity. Thus Cicero endeavours to excite in the minds of his fellow citizens the highest sense of joy and delight at Catiline's de- parture from Rome, by representing to them the im- RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 373 minent danger which threatened both them and the city, while he continued among them. Sorrow, on the contrary, is an uneasiness of mind, arising from a sense of some present evil. This pas- sion has generally a place in funeral discourses, and it may be heightened like the former by comparison, when any past happiness is set in opposition to a present calamity. Hence Cicero aggravates the sor- row at Rome, occasioned by the death of Metellus, from his character and great services to the public while living. Love excites us to esteem another for some excel- lency, and to do him all the good in our power. It is distinguished from friendship, which is mutual; and there ore love may continue where friendship is lost; that is, the affection may remain on one side. And when we assist a person from no other motive, but to do him a kindness, Aristotle calls this good will. Love takes its rise from a variety of causes. Generosity, benevolence, integrity, gratitude, courtesy, and other social virtues, are great incitements to love any one endued with such qualities. And persons generally love those who are of a like disposition with themselves, and pursue the same views. It is there- fore the chief art of a flatterer, to suit himself in eve- ry thing to the inclination of the person whose good graces he courts. When the orator would excite this affection towards any person, it is proper to show that he is possessed of some, at least, if not all these agree- able qualities. When the conspirators of Catiline were to be brought to justice, Cicero was very sensi- ble of the envy he should contract on that account, and how necessary it was for him to secure the love of 374 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. the Roman senate for his support and protection in that critical juncture. And this he endeavours to do in his fourth oration against Catiline, hy representing to them, in the most pathetic manner, that all the la- bours he underwent, the difficulties he conflicted with, and the dangers to which he was exposed on that ac- count, were not for his own sake, but for their safety, quiet, and happiness. Hatred is opposed to love, and produced by the contrary dispositions. And therefore persons hate those who never did them any injury, from the ill opinion they have of their base and vicious inclina- tions. So that the way to excite this passion is, by showing that any one has committed some heinous fact with an ill intent. And the more nearly affected persons are by such actions, in what they account of the greatest concern, the higher in proportion their hatred rises. Since life therefore is esteemed the most valuable good, Cicero endeavours to render Mark Antony odious to the citizens of Rome, by de- scribing his cruelty. Emulation is a disquiet, occasioned by the felicity of another, not because he enjoys it, but because we desire the like for ourselves. So that this passion is in itself good and laudable, as it engages men to pur- sue those things which are so. For the proper ob- jects of emulation are any advantages of mind, body, or fortune, acquired by study or labour. And persons are generally excited to an emulation of those w r ith whom they converse. So children are often ambi- tious of the like virtues or honours which they see in tl»eir relations or friends. And therefore it was a RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 375 very proper question of Andromache to iEneas, con- cerning Ascanius, which we have in Virgil : " What hopes are promis'd from his blooming years ? How much of Hector's soul in him appears!'' Emulation therefore is excited by a lively representa- tion of any desirable advantages, which appear to be attainable from the example of others who are, or have been, possessed of them. But where the felici- ty of another occasions an uneasiness, not from the want of it, but because he enjoys it, this passion is called envy ; which the ancients describe as a hideous monster, feeding upon itself, and being its own tor- mentor. Aristotle observes, that it most usually affects such persons who were once upon a level with those they envy. For most men naturally think so well of themselves, that they are uneasy to see those who were formerly their equals advanced above them. But as this is a base and vicious passion, the orator is not to be informed how to excite it, but how to lessen or remove it. And the method prescribed by Cicero for this purpose is, to show that the things which occa- sioned it have not happened to the envied person un- deservedly, but are the just reward of his industry or virtue ; that he does not so much convert them to his own profit or pleasure, as to the benefit of others ; and the same pains and difficulties are necessary to preserve them, with which they were at first acquired. Contempt is opposed to Emulation, and arises from misconduct in things not of themselves vicious : as where a person either acts below his station and char- acter ; or affects to do that for which he is not quali- fied. Thus Cicero endeavours to expose Cs&cilius, and bring him into the contempt of the court, for pre- 367 ItHETORICAL GRAMMAR. tending to rival him in the accusation of Verres, for which he was altogether unfit. To deliberative discourses may be referredjfear, hope, and shame. Fear arises from the apprehension of some great and impending evil. For the greatest evils, while they appear at a distance, do not much affect us. Such persons occasion fear, who are possessed of pow- er, especially if they have been injured, or apprehend so. Likewise those who are addicted to do injuries, or who bear us an ill will. And the examples of oth- ers, who have suffered in a like case, or from the same persons, help to excite fear. From the circum- stances therefore either of the thing, or person, it will not be difficult for the orator to offer such arguments as may be proper to awaken this passion. So Demos- thenes, when he would persuade the Athenians to put themselves in a condition of defence against king Phil- ip, enumerates the several acts of hostility already committed by him against the neighbouring states. And because men's private concerns generally more affect them than what relates to the public, it is proper sometimes to show the necessary connexion these have with each other, and how the ruin of one draws the other after it. The contrary passion to fear is hope, which arises, either from a prospect of some future good, or the apprehension of safety from those things which occa- sion our fear. Young persons are easily induced to hope the best, from the vigour of their spirits. And those who have escaped former dangers are encour- aged to hope for the like happy success for the future. The examples of others also, especially of wise and RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 377 considerate men, have often the same good effect. To find them calm and sedate, when exposed to the like dangers, naturally creates confidence, and the hopes of safety. But nothing gives persons such firm- ness and steadiness of mind, under the apprehension of any difficulties, as a consciousness of their own in- tegrity and innocence. Let dangers come from what quarter they will, they are best prepared to receive them. They can calmly view an impending tempest, observe the way of its approach, and prepare them- selves in the best manner to avoid it. In Cicero's oration for the Manilian law, he encourages the Ro- man citizens to hope for success against Mi thri dates, if they choose Pompey for their general, from the many instances of his former successes, which he there enumerates. We find in history that artful men have frequently made use of omens and prodigies with the populace, either to awaken or expel their fears, and that with the greatest success. But such argu- ments are not much regarded by wise and prudent men. In the time of the civil wars between Caesar and Pompey, when the affairs of Pompey's party were very much broken and shattered, one who was in that interest endeavoured to animate the rest and excite them to push on the war with vigour, from a lucky omen (as it was then thought) of seven eagles, which were observed to settle in their camp. But Cicero, who was then present, and knew very well the vanity of such reasoning, immediately replied : That such a happy incident might indeed prove of service to them if they were to fight with jackdaws. Shame arises from the apprehension of those things that hurt a person's character. Modesty has been wisely 378 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. implanted in mankind by the great Author of nature, as a guardian of virtue, which ought for this reason to be cherished with the greatest care ; because, as Seneca has well observed, if it be once lost, it is scarce ever to be recovered. Therefore the true cause or foun- dation of shame is any thing base or vicious ; for this wounds the character, and will not bear reflection. And he must arrive at no small degree of insensibility who can stand against such a charge, if he be con- scious to himself that it is just. Therefore to deter persons from vicious actions, or to expose them for the commission of them, the orator endeavours to set them in such a light as may most awaken this passion, and give them the greatest uneasiness by the reflection. And because the bare representation of the thing itself is not always sufficient for this purpose, he sometimes enforces it by enlarging the view, and introducing those persons as witnesses of the fact, for whom they are supposed to have the greatest regard. Thus when some of the Athenians, in an arbitration about certain lands which had been referred to them by the contend- ing parties, proposed it as the shortest way of decid- ing the controversy, to take the possession of them into their own hands, Cydias, a member of the assem- bly, to dissuade them from such an unjust action, de- sired them to imagine themselves at that time in the general assembly of the states of Greece (who would all hear of it shortly) and then consider how it was proper to act. But where persons labour under an excess of modesty, which prevents them from exerting themselves in things fit and laudable, it may sometimes be necessary to show that it is faulty and ill grounded. On the other hand, immodesty or impudence, which RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 37$ consists in a contempt of such things as affect the rep- utation, can never be too much discouraged and expos- ed. And the way of doing this is to make use of such arguments as are most proper to excite shame. We have a very remarkable instance of it in Cicero's sec- ond Philippic, wherein he affixes this character upon Mark Antony, through every scene of his life. I come now to those passions which may be refer- red to judicial discourses : — and these are anger and lenity, pity and indignation. Anger is a resentment, occasioned by some affront or injury done without any just reason. Now men are more inclined to resent such a conduct, as they think they less deserve it. Therefore persons of dis- tinction and figure, who expect a regard should be paid to their character, can the less bear any indica- tions of contempt. And those who are eminent in any profession or faculty are apt to be offended, if re- flections are cast either upon their reputation or art. Magistrates also, and persons in public stations, some- times think it incumbent on them to resent indignities, for the support of their office. But nothing sooner inflames this passion, than if good services are reward- ed with slights and neglect. The instance of Nar- sites, the Roman general, is remarkable in this kind ; who, after he had been very successful in his wars with the Goths, falling under the displeasure of the emperor Justin, was removed from the government of Italy, and received by the empress with this taunt : That he must be sent to weave among the girls : which so provoked him, that he said he would weave such a web as they should never be able to unravel. And accordingly he soon after brought down the Longo- 48 380 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. bards, a people of Germany, into Italy, where they settled themselves in that part of the country which, from them, is now called Lombardy. The time and place in which an injury was done, and other circum- stances that attended it, may likewise contribute very much to heighten the fact. Hence Demosthenes, in his oration against Midias, endeavours to aggravate the injury of being struck by him, both as he was then a magistrate, and because it was done at a public fes- tival. From hence it appears, that the persons who most usually occasion this passion are such who neg- lect the rules of decency, contemn and insult others, or oppose their inclination ; as likewise the ungrate- ful, and those who violate the ties of friendship, or requite favours with injuries. But when the orator endeavours to excite anger, he should be careful not to exceed due bounds in aggravating the charge, lest what he says appear rather to proceed from prejudice, than a strict regard to the demerit of the action. Lenity is the remission of anger. The designs of men's actions are principally to be regarded ; and there- fore what is ignorantly, or through inadvertency, is soon- er forgiven. Also to acknowledge a fault, submit, and ask pardon, are the ready means to take oif resent-^ ment ; for a generous mind is soon cooled by submis- sion. Besides he who repents of his fault does really give the injured party some satisfaction, by punishing himself, as all repentance is attended with grief and uneasiness of mind; and this is apt very much to abate the desire of revenge : as, on the contrary, nothing is more provoking than when the offender either audaciously justifies the fact, or confidently denies it. Men are likewise wont to lay aside their RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 381 resentment, when their adversaries happen by some other means to suffer what they think a sufficient sat- isfaction. Lastly, easy circumstances, a lucky inci- dent, or any thing which gives the mind a turn to mirth and pleasure, has a natural tendency to remove anger : for anger is accompanied with pain and un- easiness, which very ill suit joy and cheerfulness. The orator therefore, in order to assuage and pacify the minds of his auditors, will endeavour to lessen their opinion of the fault, and by that means to take off the edge of their resentment. And to this purpose, it will be proper either to represent, that the thing was not designed, or that the party is sorry for it ; or to mention his former services ; as also to show the credit and reputation which will be gained by a gen- erous forgiveness. And this last topic is very artful- ly wrought up by Cicero, in his address to Caesar, in favour of Ligarius. Pity arises from the calamities of others, by reflect- ing that we ourselves are liable to the like misfortunes. So that evils, considered as the common lot of human nature, are principally the cause of pity. And this makes the difference between pity and good will, which, as I have shown already, arises merely from a regard to the circumstances of those who want our assistance. But considering the uncertainty of every thing about us, he must seem in a manner divested of humanity, who has no compassion for the calamities of others ; since there is no affliction, which happens to any man, but either that, or some other as great, may fall upon himself. But those persons are generally soonest touched with this passion who have met with mis- fortunes themselves. And by how much greater 382 RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. er the distress is, or the person appears less deserv- ing it, the higher pity does it excite ; for which rea- son persons are generally most moved at the misfor- tunes of their relations and friends, or those of the best figure and character. The orator therefore, in order to excite the greater pity, will endeavour to heighten the idea of the calamity, from the several circumstan- ces both of the thing itself, and the person who labours under it. A fine example of this may be seen in Cic- ero's defence of Mursena. Indignation, as opposed to pity, is an uneasiness at the felicity of another, who does not seem to deserve it. But this respects only external advantages, such as riches, honours, and the like ; for virtues cannot be the object of this passion. Aristotle therefore says, that pity and indignation are generally to be found in the same persons, and are both evidences of a good dis^ position. Now the orator excites this passion, by showing the person, to be unworthy of that felicity which he enjoys. And as, in order to move compas- sion, it is sometimes of use to compare the former happy state of the person with his present calamity, so here the greater indignation is raised, by compar- ing his former mean circumstances with his present advancement : as Cicero does in the case of Vatinius. These are the passions with which an orator is principally concerned. In addressing to which, not only the greatest warmth and force of expression is often necessary, but he must likewise first endeavour to impress his own mind with the same passion he would excite in others, agreeably to that of Horace : My grief with others' just proportion bears ; To make me weep, you must be first in tears, . RHETORICAL GRAMMAR. 383 Thus far the learned Professor Ward on that part of oratory called invention ; in which we perceive he has follewed the ancients, step by step, but not with- out several judicious observations of his own. On all subjects that do not admit of experiment or demon- stration, I own I am a great friend to authority : and when the ancients unanimously, and almost all the moderns down to Priestley and Ward, recommend the topics or common places, I cannot think they can be unworthy of attention. Let those who do not feel themselves in want of such assistance enjoy their supe- riority, and leave the less gifted part of their species to such resourses as are suited to the mediocrity of their abilities. This part of rhetoric, therefore, which ought to have been the first, is reserved to the last, that the student, if he pleases, may more easily omit the perusal of it. finis. Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Nov. 2007 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 021 957 524 5 ■r llRRllKl 39B nunf US ■i Hi ttfRfr nil m M H