LIB R ARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Revived SEP .13.1 8?3</ , 
 
 Accessions No.&LfJ.C. Shelf No. 
 
THE 
 
 SCIENCE OF RHETORIC: 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE 
 
 LAWS OE EFFECTIVE DISCOURSE 
 
 BY 
 
 DAVID J. HILL, LJ.-.D., 
 
 PRESIDENT OF THE UNIVERSITY OP ROCHESTER, AND AUTHOR OF KUJ/S 
 RHETORICAL SERIES AND THE ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 
 
 ** These rules, of old discovered, not devised, 
 Are Nature still, but Nature methodised." 
 
 SHELDON & COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK & CHICAGO. 
 
COPTKIGHT. 
 
 2BXLDON & COMFAVi 
 KJ77. 
 
THIS book is not designed as an introduction to 
 English composition, but rather as a systematic pre- 
 sentation of the laws of discourse, for advanced classes. 
 
 Most of the text-books on Rhetoric take a one-sided 
 view of the subject. Dr. Whately has treated Rhetoric 
 as a branch of Logic, making it " the art of inventing 
 and arranging arguments ; " Dr. Blair treats it as a 
 department of applied ^Esthetics, as if it were a purely 
 critical art ; Dr. Theremin regards it as belonging to 
 Ethics, as if eloquence were a virtue. This little work 
 aims to explain the whole theory of effective discourse, 
 for whatever purpose and in whatever form it may be 
 used. The specific province of the rhetorician is to 
 render given ideas effective in producing mental 
 changes in others. Rhetoric treats of thought mili- 
 tant. Logic furnishes conceptions which are formally 
 true; ^Esthetics, conceptions which are beautiful; 
 Ethics, conceptions which are just Rhetoric takes 
 these conceptions and .establishes them .n the mind 
 of another. 
 
 Rhetoricians have frequently regarded Invention as 
 a pnr* of Rhetoric. Invention implies the production 
 of acme particular kind of thought, conditioned by the 
 nature of the subject-mat/ter. What propositions are 
 
i PBEFACB. 
 
 to be maintained by the lawyer, the theologian, the 
 scientist, or the critic, must depend upon the facts of 
 law, theology, science and criticism. The methods of 
 investigation are different in the various departments 
 3f thought. Hence no truly useful rules can be given 
 on this subject. The truth has been forcibly stated by 
 John Stuart Mill. He says : " Invention, though it 
 can be cultivated, cannot be reduced to rule ; there is 
 no science which will enable a man to bethink himself 
 of that which will suit his purpose. But when he lias 
 thought of something, science will tell him whether 
 that which he has thought of will suit his purpose or 
 not." 
 
 Disposition has often been made a distinct division 
 of Rhetoric. The arrangement of matter contributes 
 greatly to the effectiveness of discourse, but is so con- 
 ditioned by the nature of the subject-matter, that it 
 cannot properly be made a distinct department of 
 rhetorical science. The parts of a Description, Narra- 
 tion, Exposition, or Argument should be arranged ac- 
 cording to the specific laws of these different kinds of 
 discourse. Disposition has been treated in connection 
 with the different classes of ideas, and not as a distinct 
 topic. No recognition is taken of the traditional di- 
 vision of a Discourse into (1) Introduction, (2) Divis- 
 ion, (3) Narration, (4) Explication, and (5) Perora- 
 tion. This is regarded as mechanical and conven- 
 tional. There is often nothing to divide, or nothing 
 ;o narrate, or nothing to explicate. All this depends 
 upon the nature of the subject-matter. As a rule, the 
 less conventional the division of a discourse the better. 
 
 1 1 has been customary to introduce into works on 
 Rhetoric some discussion of Taste, Beuuty, Sublimity, 
 
PREFACE. O 
 
 etc. These topics belong strictly to Esthetics, a 
 division of science well worthy of the attention whi^b 
 is now bestowed upon it by advanced educators, and 
 which will soon co-ordinate with Logic and Ethics as 
 a study in the college curriculum. It is as reasonable 
 to discuss the nature of truth or of right in a text-book 
 on Rhetoric, as to admit the discussion of Taste, 
 Beauty and Sublimity. Surely there is as good a 
 reason why our sentiments should be true and just, aa 
 why they should be beautiful. 
 
 Elocution has long been regarded as a part of 
 Rhetoric, but it is by itself too important and extensive 
 a subject to be treated as a division of rhetorical science. 
 It does, indeed, contribute to render spoken discourse 
 more effective, but so does elegant chirography or clear 
 typography improve the effectiveness of written 
 thought. Rhetoric treats of discourse in general, not 
 of written or spoken discourse in particular. 
 
 It has been common in treatises on Rhetoric to give 
 some account of the Origin and Progress of Language. 
 There is no reason why this subject should be treated of 
 in connection with Rhetoric, since language is neither 
 a more nor a less perfect instrument of expression from 
 our knowing its origin and history. The Science of 
 Language is now an independent department of 
 knowledge, and deserves attention as such. 
 
 Rhetoricians have frequently included the Forms 
 of Composition as a part of their science. It is evi- 
 dent that completed literary works, such as epics, 
 dramas, histories, novels, etc., belong to Literature, 
 vr.d their classification pertains to the critical section 
 of that department. If it be claimed that Rhetoric 
 treats of the means whereby these forms of composition 
 
6 PBEFAOE. 
 
 are made excellent, it may be answered that the pro 
 duction of such works involves two processes : (1) tnat 
 of rendering certain given ideas effective ; and (2) that 
 <.-f selecting and combining suitable ideas fora particu- 
 lar kind of composition. The first process is rhetorical, 
 and is the same in all composition ; the second is tech- 
 nical, and conditioned by the purpose of the writer ; 
 the first is the work of the rhetorician ; the second is 
 the work of the dramatist, historian, or novelist, as 
 such. The poet and the theologian alike make use of 
 Rhetoric, but, in addition, the poet must study Poetics, 
 and the preacher Homile*fcics. Rhetoric is not the 
 science of play- writing or of preaching, but of rendering 
 given ideas effective, whether in a play or in a sermon. 
 
 The old terms Purity, Propriety, Precision, Clear- 
 ness, Vivacity, etc., have not been used in this treatise, 
 partly because some of them are vague from their figu- 
 rative use, but chiefly because they are not distinct 
 qualities of Style, and the division of properties denoted 
 by them involves repetition or incompleteness. 
 
 Ha ring given reasons for the exclusion of some 
 topics which have commonly appeared in works on 
 Rhetoric, I shall now explain why some new ones have 
 6een inserted. 
 
 Sufficient prominence has not been given to the 
 relation between thought and its expression. This 
 topic has been somewhat fully discussed in the 
 Introduction. 
 
 The advantages and disadvantages of language as a 
 medium of expression in comparison with other means 
 of communicating ideas, have been fully exhibited, in 
 order that the peculiar conditions of verbal expression 
 might be realized. 
 
PREFACE. 7 
 
 The consideration of the Laws of Mind may seero 
 strange to those who have regarded Ehetoric as dealing 
 only with the communication of thought. But if the 
 rhetorical process aims at effecting mental changes, the 
 laws according to which those changes must take place 
 form an important part of rhetorical science. The 
 treatment of Age as furnishing particular laws of mind, 
 is not new. In Aristotle's .Rhetoric, three chapters are 
 devoted to this topic. Experience and Affiliation aro 
 not less important modifiers of the human mind, and 
 deserve the closest attention of the rhetorician. 
 
 That expression is conditioned by the nature of the 
 idea to be conveyed is vaguely acknowledged by most 
 works on Rhetoric. The Laws of Idea, based upon 
 the essential nature of the four elementary classes of 
 ideas, are believed to be of great importance. 
 
 The Laws of Form are here for the first time de- 
 rived from a single principle. The Law of Mental 
 Economy, as enunciated by Spencer, has been so modi- 
 fied and developed as to refer all the valid precepts of 
 Style to a single law, thus affording to Expression what 
 Aristotle's dictum affords to Deductive Reasoning. 
 Taken in connection with the laws of Association, 
 h is Law of Economy at once explains the great value 
 of Figurative Language, and furnishes rational rules 
 for its use. 
 
 A systematic analysis, by insuring a progressive ex- 
 position and avoiding repetition, enables the learner to 
 master the whole work in a very short time. Notwith- 
 standing the compendious form in which the subject is 
 presented, it is believed that the student will be able tc 
 gee the reason for everything as he proceeds, and it is 
 hoped that teachers who may use the book will be able 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 fco supplement it with oral illustrations The Exercises 
 at the end of the book are regarded as an important 
 [\ Idition, and their use in the class-room may be made 
 highly profitable. The topical method seems to be the 
 only proper mode of recitation for advanced students, 
 and this work has been especially designed for that 
 method. The headings, however, may be used as 
 questions by those who prefer the catechetical method 
 of reciting. 
 
 It is not claimed that any new precepts of composi- 
 tion have been derived from the treatment here adopted, 
 The merit of the plan is believed to be simply that of 
 scientific analysis, furnishing the rationale of such 
 rules as have long been laid down by rhetoricians. 
 Astronomy creates no new celestial movements ; it 
 simply aids us in comprehending those which were ob- 
 served but not understood by the earliest shepherds of 
 our race. Ehetoric cannot make laws for composition, 
 but it can discover them, and explain why poetry pleases 
 and eloquence wins, by referring their effects to the 
 laws of mind and language. 
 
 DAVID J. HILL. 
 
 July, 1877. 
 
JTTRODUCTION ............... . 
 
 1. Essential Elements of Discourse ........ '. 
 
 2. The Relations of Thought and Language 
 
 (1) Language and Thought Separable 
 
 (2) Language an Aid to Thought 
 
 (3) Language Abbreviates Thinking 
 
 (4) Language Vitiates Thought 
 
 (5) Language an Instrument of Analysis 
 
 3. Modes of Expressing Ideas 
 
 (1) Drawing 
 
 (2) Painting 
 
 (3) Scul pture 
 
 (4) Language 
 
 4. Restrictions of Formal Art 
 
 (1) Motion 
 
 (2) Time 
 
 (3) Power 
 
 (4) Penetrative Imagination 
 Restrictions of Language 
 
 (1) Lessing's Limitation 
 
 (2) The Symbolic Character of Words 
 
 (3) The Uncertainty of Words as a Medium 
 
 (4) Language an Impediment 
 excellence of Style Relative 
 
 V The Difference between Prose and Poetry 
 
 (1) Aristotle's Opinion 
 
 (2) Bacon's Opinion 
 
 (3) Coleridge's Opinion 
 
 (4) Ruskin's Opinion 
 
 (5) Whately's Opinion 
 
 (6) The True Difference Based on Effects 
 
 (7) The Difference Relative 
 
 (8) Versification a Part of Grammar 
 i. The Province of Rhetoric 
 
 >. Related Sciences 
 
 (1) Grammar 
 
 (2) Logic ........ 
 
 (3) Esthetics 
 
 (4) Psychology.... 
 
 19 
 IS 
 19 
 
 30 
 21 
 
 24 
 24 
 24 
 25 
 25 
 
 (5) Elocution 
 D 
 
 10 Departments of Rhetoric 
 
 29 
 29 
 30 
 81 
 32 
 3 
 33 
 34 
 34 
 34 
 34 
 34 
 35 
 36 
 3? 
 37 
 38 
 38 
 38 
 38 
 38 
 38 
 39 
 
 BOOK L LAWS OF MIND. 
 
 1. Method of Treatment Explained .................................. 43 
 
 2. Classification of Mental Phenomena ........................ ..... 43 
 
 8. Relations of these Phenomena ..... ............................... 43 
 
 4. Division of this Book .............................. ............... 44 
 
10 ANALYSIS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 THE GENERAL LAWS OF MIND. 
 
 SECTION I. INTELLECT. 
 
 PAOI 
 
 REASON 45 
 
 1. Nature of the Laws of Thought 45 
 
 2. Rhetorical Use of the Laws of Thought 46 
 
 3. Direct Address to the Reason 47 
 
 4. General Confidence in Reason 47 
 
 5. Permanence of Fallacious Notions . . , 48 
 
 6. Importance of the Laws of Thought 48 
 
 I ! .IMAGINATION 49 
 
 1. Attention 49 
 
 2. Belief 49 
 
 3. Action 50 
 
 III. MEMORY 50 
 
 1. Conviction 50 
 
 2. Persuasion 51 
 
 3. Language 51 
 
 SECTION II. THE FEELINGS. 
 
 I. -CLASSIFICATION 52 
 
 1. Necessary Imperfection 52 
 
 2. Sensations and Sentiments 52 
 
 3. Scheme of the Sentiments 53 
 
 1 1 , TH K PRODUCTION OF EMOTION 54 
 
 1. 'i he Necessity of Feeling 54 
 
 2. Emotions Involuntarj' 54 
 
 3. Stimulating Circumstances 55 
 
 (1 ) Probability 55 
 
 0>) Verisimilitude 55 
 
 (3) Ideal Presence 55 
 
 (4) Minute Details 56 
 
 (5) Proximity of Time: 57 
 
 (b) Proximity of Place 5? 
 
 (7) Personal Relation 51 
 
 (8) Indirectness 58 
 
 (9) General Importance 58 
 
 (10) Connection with the Consequences 58 
 
 III. THE MODIFICATION OF EMOTION 5 ( J 
 
 1. The Law of Change 5 ( j 
 
 2. Dominant States of Feeling 59 
 
 A Temporary Emotions '. W) 
 
 (1) Allaying the Feelings n 
 
 (2) Diverting the Feelings 'i i 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE PARTICULAR LAWS OF MIND. 
 
 SECTION I. AGE. 
 
 i. Youth fJ 
 
 (1) Passionate 63 
 
 (2) Sanguine 63 
 
 (3) Spirited 64 
 
 (4) Social 64 
 
 (5) Mischievous 64 
 
ANALYSIS. 11 
 
 PAOB 
 
 I. Old Age ......................................... .................. M 
 
 (1) Calculating .................................................. W 
 
 (2) Desponding .................................................. (>l 
 
 (3) Humble ....... ............................................. 65 
 
 (4; Gentle ...................................................... 05 
 
 I, Middle A ire ........................................................ 65 
 
 (1) Moderate ..................................................... 66 
 
 (2) Powerful .................................................... 65 
 
 SECTION II. EXPERIENCE. 
 
 1. The Nature of Experience ......................................... 66 
 
 2. General and Specific Experience .. ............................... 67 
 
 3. Inferred Experience ................................................ 67 
 
 SECTION III. AFFILIATION. 
 
 1. Relation of the Speaker to his Audience ........................... 68 
 
 (1) Good Sense ................................................... 68 
 
 (2) Good Will .................................................... 68 
 
 (3) Good Principles ............................................... 69 
 
 2. Party Spirit ........................................................ 69 
 
 (1) Ae a Motive ................................................... 69 
 
 (2) As a Means of Self-commendation ............................ 70 
 
 (3) Method of Counteracting ..................................... 70 
 
 BOOK II. LAWS OF IDEA. 
 
 ;. Kinds of Ideas ..................................................... 78 
 
 (1) Individual Objects ............................................ 73 
 
 (2) General Notions .............................................. 73 
 
 2. Divisions of this Subject .......................................... 73 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 DESCRIPTION. 
 
 1. Describable Objects ......................... - ..................... 75 
 
 2. General Laws of Description ...................................... 75 
 
 (1) The Law of Purpose ---- ...................................... 75 
 
 (2) 
 (3) 
 (4) 
 
 8 Kinds of Description ............................................ ... 76 
 
 (2) The Law of Unity .................. . .......................... 75 
 
 (3) The Law of Completeness ............. . ........ .............. 76 
 
 (4) The Law of Brevity . . .', ............................. ......... 76 
 
 SECTION I. OBJECTS OF SENSE. 
 
 I , Purpo s e 78 
 
 (1 ) P o i n t o f Vi c w 76 
 
 (2) Division 77 
 
 I Unity 77 
 
 (1) Order 77 
 
 (2) Fitness i 75 
 
 9 Completeness 78 
 
 (1) Location 78 
 
 (2) Inner Qualities 78 
 
 (3) Time 78 
 
 (4) Magnitude 78 
 
 t Brevity 79 
 
 (1) Comparisons 79 
 
 (2) Effects 79 
 
 (3) Contrast 75 
 
 (4) Fixed Classes TC 
 
It ANALYSIS. 
 
 SECTION II. MENTAL STATES. 
 
 run 
 
 I The Mental Vocabulary 80 
 
 (1) Metaphorical Character HO 
 
 (2) Indenniteness Hi 
 
 (3) Subjective Result v :......... si 
 
 1 Various Associations. /A ^ 
 
 (1) External Expression 8i 
 
 (2) Actions 82 
 
 (3) Surroundings 82 
 
 (4) Causes 83 
 
 SECTION III. CHARACTER. 
 
 1 Individuality./..' 83 
 
 2. Inward Principles 84 
 
 3. Concrete Form 84 
 
 4. Environment 85 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 NARRATION. 
 
 SECTION I. THE SELECTION OF CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 1. Purpose 8e 
 
 2. Unity .*. 87 
 
 3. Completeness T 87 
 
 4. Brevity 88 
 
 SECTION II. THE SEQUENCE OF EVENTS. 
 
 1. Time 88 
 
 2 Reasons for Violating the Order of Time 89 
 
 3. Retrospective References 90 
 
 4. Probability 90 
 
 SECTION III. THE SYNCHRONISM OF EVENTS. 
 
 1 Kinds of Concurrence ,....: '. 91 
 
 (1) Plurality of Departments ". 91 
 
 (2) Contending Parties 91 
 
 (3) Principal and Subordinate Actions , 91 
 
 (4) Different Countries 92 
 
 t. Means of Expressing Synchronism 92 
 
 (1) Sensible Forms U.C 93 
 
 (2) Analysis 93 
 
 (3) Summary 94 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 EXPOSITION 
 
 1. Tbc Nature of Exposition. 
 9. Forms of Exposition 
 
 SECTION I. EXPOSITION OF THE NOTION IN ITSELF 
 
 1 Comprehension and Extension .,'... , 9f> 
 
 2 Natureof a Definition.:. 97 
 
 3. Nature of Division. f 9' 
 
ANALYSIS. 13 
 
 PAGH 
 
 4. Difference between Definition and Divisioi 93 
 
 6 Kinds of Definition 98 
 
 .. (i) Nominal 98 
 
 (2) Real , : . 98 
 
 (3). Genetic..., 99 
 
 2 The Laws of Logical Definition 99 
 
 (1) A definition must be adequate 99 
 
 (2) A definition must not define by negative or divisive attribute 9ft 
 
 (3) A definition should not be tautological , 100 
 
 (4) The definition must be precise 100 
 
 (5) A definition should be perspicuous 100 
 
 7. Kinds of Division / % UK) 
 
 (1) Partition . ; 100 
 
 (2) Logical Division 101 
 
 8. The Laws of Logical Division 101 
 
 (1) Every division should have some principle 101 
 
 (2) Every division should have but one principle 101 
 
 (3) The principle of division should be an actual and essential 
 
 character of the divided whole 101 
 
 (4) No dividing member must of itself exhaust the subject 101 
 
 (5) The dividing members must together exhaust the notion, bat 
 
 not more 
 
 te dividing members should not include < 
 
 division should proceed continuously, wil 
 
 9. Exposition of a Proposition 103 
 
 (1) By Definition. ... ...... i 103 
 
 (2) By Division.. 104 
 
 (6) The dividing members should not include one another 
 
 (7) A division should proceed continuously, without hiatus 102 
 
 SECTION II. EXPOSITION OF A NOTION THROUGH 
 
 ITS RELATIONS. 
 
 1. The Method of Particular^ .-. 105 
 
 2. The Method of Conditi ons , 105 
 
 3. The Method of Similar^ .?...: 106 
 
 4. The Method of Contrast 106 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ARGUMENTATION. 
 
 1. The Rhetorical Use of Arguments 107 
 
 2. The Division of Arguments 107 
 
 (1) Form 107 
 
 (2) Subject-matter 108 
 
 (3) Purpose 108 
 
 (4) As such 108 
 
 SECTION I. A PRIORI ARGUMENTS. 
 
 1. Nature of the Argument llf 
 
 2. Extent of Inference from a Cause IK 
 
 3 The Absence of a Cause Ill 
 
 4. The Degree of Connection between Cause and Effect Ill 
 
 6. Probability Established by a priori Arguments 11 $ 
 
 6. Ambiguity of Causal Words 113 
 
 SECTION II. ARGUMENTS FROM SIGN. 
 
 1. Nature of the Argument \\'\ 
 
 1. Calculation of Chances Ill 
 
 8. Proof of a Cause 119 
 
14 ANALYSIS. 
 
 FAtfl 
 
 4 Testimony ..... . ............... ................................... 115 
 
 (1) The Number of Witnesses ................................... 116 
 
 (2) Character of Witnesses .................... ................... 116 
 
 (3) Concurrent Witnesses . .- ........................ ............ 11C 
 
 (4) Adverse Witnesses..,'. . ...................................... 117 
 
 (5) Character of Facs Attested ...:..'.. ...................... -. ..... 318 
 
 (6) Tiu; Denial of Testimony ..'. ...... ~ ...................... *:... 118 
 
 5 Authority .......................................................... 118 
 
 1. The Progressive Argument .................. ...................... lift 
 
 SECTION III. ARGUMENTS FROM RESEMBLANCE. 
 
 1. Nature of the Argument ................... . .................... 120 
 
 2. Essential Resemblances ...v...;: ................................ 12C 
 
 3. Example .......................................................... 121 
 
 (1) Nature of Example . . ................................... ..... 121 
 
 (2) Invented Example ............................................ 122 
 
 (3) Illustrative Examples ......................................... 122 
 
 4. Induction ..-. ............................... . ........ . . . ............ 123 
 
 (1) The Method 6f Agreement ........ . ........................... 123 
 
 (2) The Method of Difference .......... . . .-j ..'.'.... /"*/. f' r . . . ..... 124 
 
 (3) The Method of Residues ...................................... 124 
 
 (4) The Method of Concomitant Variations ............ , ...... ~. . 125 
 
 5. Analogy .................. ......................................... 125 
 
 SECTION IV. THE CONDUCT OF A DISCUSSION. 
 
 , -THE PREPARATION OF THE QUESTION ............................... 126 
 
 1. Necessity of Preparation ............ ,. . . , .......................... 126' 
 
 t. Exposition . .>. . ................... ..-....'. ........................ 127 
 
 3. Concession . . /. ..... , .............................................. 127 
 
 4. Contrary Opinions . . ......... . ............ ........................ 128 
 
 II TUE INTRODUCTION ................................................. 128 
 
 1. Design of an Introduction...* ..................................... 128 
 
 2. Kinds of Introduction ............................................. 129 
 
 (1) Inquisitive ....... ......................... ................... 129 
 
 (2) Paradoxical ..... .............................................. 129 
 
 (3) Corrective .................................................... 129 
 
 (4) Preparatory .:.... ............................................ 129 
 
 (5) Narrative ..................................................... 129 
 
 III. CONFIRMATION ..................................................... 130 
 
 1. The Uses of the Different Classes of Arguments ................... ISO 
 
 (1) A Priori ......... ..................... ........................ 130 
 
 (2) Sign .......................................................... 130 
 
 (3) Resemblance .................................................. 130 
 
 2. The Arrangement of Arguments ................................... 131 
 
 (1) Importance of Arrangement .................................. 131 
 
 (2) Order of Arguments according to Kind ....................... 131 
 
 (3) Order of Arguments according to Strength ................... 131 
 
 l4) Proving by Installments ...................................... 132 
 
 \V. REFUTATION. .". .................................................... 132 
 
 1. Mode? of Refutation .............. ................................. 138 
 
 (1) Proving the Contradictory ........ . ........................... 133 
 
 (2) Overthrowing Arguments .................................... 133 
 
 I Treatment of Objections .......................................... 135 
 
 (1) Valid Objections on both Sides ............................... 135 
 
 (2) Decisive Objections .......................................... 135 
 
 (3) Statement of Objections ........... ..... ..................... 136 
 
 B Cautions concerning Refutation ................................... 136 
 
 <1) Too Forcible Refutation ...................................... 136 
 
 (2) Too Great Clearness .......................................... 136 
 
 (3) Prior Convictions ............................................ 1 37 
 
 (4) Accusations ................................................. 13< 
 
 (5) Weak Arguments ............................................ 18< 
 
 sible Authorities. . ..... ................................. IS 
 
 (6) Accessi 
 
 <7) Place for Answering Ol jections 
 
AKALYSIS. 16 
 
 BOOK III. LAWS OF FORM. 
 
 run 
 
 1. Importance of Method 143 
 
 I The Process of Interpreting a Sentence 144 
 
 (1) Exercise of Presentative Power 144 
 
 (2) Exercise of Conservative Power 1 15 
 
 (3) Exercise of Representative Power 145 
 
 (4) Exorcise of Realizing Power 145 
 
 3. Deduction of the General Law of Style 146 
 
 (1) Economy of Interpreting Power It6 
 
 (2) Economy of the Feelings 146 
 
 (3) Summary 147 
 
 4. Apparent Exceptions 147 
 
 (1) Intentional Obscurity 147 
 
 (2) Excessive Perspicuity 148 
 
 5. The Composer's Powers not to be Economized 149 
 
 & Division of the Subject 149 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE ECONOMY OF INTERPRETING POWER IN PLAIN 
 LANGUAGE. 
 
 1. The Conditions of Sentential Structure 151 
 
 (1) The Time-relation 151 
 
 (2) The Truth-relation 15 
 
 2. The Style of Legal Acts 152 
 
 3. National Types of Style 152 
 
 (1) The German Style 153 
 
 (2) The French Style. 153 
 
 (3) The English Style 153 
 
 4. The Equilibrium of these Forces 154 
 
 5. Division of the Subject 155 
 
 SECTION" I. DICTION, OR THE CHOICE OF WORDS. 
 
 1. FAMILIARITY 155 
 
 1. Reasons for Familiarity 155 
 
 2. Aristotle's Opinion 156 
 
 3. The Barbarism 157 
 
 (1) Barbarisms from Time 157 
 
 (2) Barbarisms from Place 158 
 
 4. When Barbarisms are allowable 158 
 
 t) Dialectic Compositions 158 
 ) Technical Persons 158 
 e Law of Use 159 
 
 8. The Formation of New Words 159 
 
 LT LENGTH 160 
 
 1. Disadvantage of Long Words ^ 160 
 
 (1) Difficulty of Perceiving them 160 
 
 (2) Difficulty of Remembering them 161 
 
 2. Advantages of Long Words 161 
 
 (1) Sound and Sense 161 
 
 (2) Actual Economy 162 
 
 3. Value of Saxon Illustrated from Literature 162 
 
 III. INCLUSION Ifr3 
 
 1. Definition and Forms of Inclusion 163 
 
 2. Specific and General Words 164 
 
 (1) Difference between Specific and Genera] Words 16-1 
 
 (U) Reasons for the Superior Force of Specific Expressions 165 
 
 (3) Choice of Terras Possible lOd 
 
16 ANALYSIS. 
 
 FAGI 
 
 8. Homonyms , 167 
 
 (1) Allowable Homonyms 167 
 
 (2) Ambiguous Homonyms 168 
 
 4 . Analogues . . . 169 
 
 (1) Analogues in Form 1G9 
 
 (2) A nalogues in Meaning 170 
 
 I V ' -IMPLICATION 171 
 
 1 The Effect of Words on Thoughts 171 
 
 2. The Associations of Words 171 
 
 3 The Utilization of Pre-exerted Energies 172 
 
 ilSCTION II. SENTENCES, OE THE COMBINATIONS DF 
 WORDS. 
 
 I THE NUMBER OP WORDS 173 
 
 1. Tautology 174 
 
 2. Redundancy 175 
 
 3. Circumlocution 176 
 
 II. THE POSITION OP WORDS 177 
 
 1. The Individual Force of Words 177 
 
 (1) Emphasis 177 
 
 (2) Abstractness 177 
 
 2. Tho Modifying Effect of Words Ibl 
 
 (1) Proximity 181 
 
 (2) Parenthetical Expressions lfi 
 
 3. The Grammatical Relations of Words 19G 
 
 III. THE RELATION OP WORDS TO THE IDEA AS A WHOLE 191 
 
 1. The Time-relation of Words to the Whole Idea 191 
 
 2. The Truth-relation of Words to the W^hole Idea 13 
 
 (1) Suffgestiveness 192 
 
 (2) Unity 195 
 
 IV. THE COMBINATION OF SENTENCES 198 
 
 1. Progressive Development 199 
 
 2. Explicit Reference . 200 
 
 3. Necessity of a Theme 201 
 
 4. Value of Analysis 201 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE ECONOMY OF INTERPRETING POWER IN FIGURA- 
 TIVE LANGUAGE. 
 
 1. Definition of Figures 203 
 
 2. Laws of Association 203 
 
 3. These Laws Reduced to Three 204 
 
 4. Use of these Laws 204 
 
 (1) Why Figures Improve Style 204 
 
 (2) What Figures are Advantageous 205 
 
 SECTION I. FIGURES FOUNDED ON RESEMBLANCE. 
 
 i B IM ILK 206 
 
 !. Fcimsof Simile 206 
 
 (!) Direct Resemblance 206 
 
 (2) Resemblance of Causes 206 
 
 (3) Resemblance of Effect? 207 
 
 (4) Resemblance of Ratios 20 
 
 t Laws of Simile 20 
 
 (1) Similar Objects 210 
 
 (2) Vague Resemblances 210 
 
ANALYSIS. 1? 
 
 FAfil 
 
 (3) Simpler Objects 211 
 
 (4) The Position of Parts in a Simile 211 
 
 fl -METAPIIOR 213 
 
 t . Nature of Metaphor 213 
 
 2. Superiority of Metaphor to Simile 214 
 
 3. Metaphor Based on Analog}- 214 
 
 4. Laws of Metaphor. 215 
 
 (1) Necessity of Clearness 215 
 
 (2) Blending Plain and Figurative Language 215 
 
 (3) Mixing Metaphors 216 
 
 (4) Straining Metaphors 216 
 
 (5) Concrete Metaphors 216 
 
 1. The Value of Metaphor 217 
 
 III. --PERSONIFICATION 218 
 
 1 The Nal nre and Origin of Personification , 218 
 
 2. Personification Natural to Man 219 
 
 3. Personification in Oratory 220 
 
 4. Forms of Personification 221 
 
 (1) Personality Ascribed 221 
 
 (2) Qualities of Life Attributed 222 
 
 IV. ALLEGORY 222 
 
 1. The Nature of Allegory 222 
 
 2. Allegory Distinguished from Allied Forms 223 
 
 3. Laws of Allegory 224 
 
 (1 ) Development of the Radical Metaphor 224 
 
 (2) The Analogy Evident .225 
 
 SECTION II. FIGURES FOUNDED ON CONTIGUITY. 
 
 1. The Theory Explained 225 
 
 2. Forms of Contiguity 226 
 
 I . SYNECDOCHE 227 
 
 1. Forms of Synecdoche 227 
 
 (1) A Part for the Whole 227 
 
 (2) The Whole for a Part 227 
 
 (3) The Material for the Object 228 
 
 II. -METONYMY 228 
 
 1. Forms of Metonymy 228 
 
 0) Cause and Effect 229 
 
 (2) The Sign and the Thing Signified 229 
 
 (3) Container and Thing Contained *. . . 230 
 
 2. The Law of Selection 230 
 
 III. CO-EXISTENT EMOTIONS 230 
 
 1 Meaning of Co-existent Emotions 230 
 
 2. Figures founded on Co-existent Emotions 231 
 
 (1) Exclamation 231 
 
 (2) Hyperbole 232 
 
 (3) Apostrophe 233 
 
 (4) Vision 234 
 
 3. Explanation of these Figures 234 
 
 4. Laws of these Figures 236 
 
 SECTION III. FIGURES FOUNDED ON CONTRAST. 
 
 1. The Theory of Contrast '. 287 
 
 2. Essentials of a Perfect Contrast 238 
 
 3. Figures Founded on Contrast 238 
 
 I -EXPRESSED CONTRAST..* 238 
 
 1. Antithesis 238 
 
 (1) The Nature of Antithesis 238 
 
 (2) The Natural Form of Antithesis 239 
 
 (3) Laws of Antithesis 240 
 
 1 Climax. .*. 240 
 
18 ANALYSIS. 
 
 Fi.61 
 
 (1. IMPLIED CONTRAST 241 
 
 1. Epigram 341 
 
 2 Interrogation 243 
 
 8 Irony 243 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ECONOMY OF THE FEELINGS. 
 
 1 The Effect of Words on the Sensibilities 244 
 
 i. Hamilton's Theory of the Peelings 244 
 
 3 Application of the Theory to Expression 24* 
 
 SECTION I. VARIETY. 
 
 1. The Necessity of Variety 246 
 
 2. The Applications of Variety 246 
 
 J .LETTERS 246 
 
 1. The Cumulation of Consonants 24T 
 
 2. The Cumulation of Vowels 2ft 
 
 II. WORDS AND SYLLABLES 248 
 
 1. Tautophony 248 
 
 (1) 'Offensive Tautophony 248 
 
 (2) Intentional Tautophony 24S 
 
 2. Meter. 25 
 
 (1) Proof of the Value of Meter 25i 
 
 (2) Example 251 
 
 (3) Adaptation of Meter to Poetry 252 
 
 (4) Rhythm 253 
 
 (5) Meter no Violation of Variety 253 
 
 111. SENTENCES 254 
 
 1. Length 254 
 
 2. Structure 254 
 
 IV. FIGURES 255 
 
 1. Similarity 255 
 
 2. Profusion 255 
 
 SECTION II. HARMONY. 
 
 I. SOUNDS 256 
 
 1 . Other Sounds 257 
 
 2. Time and Motion , 258 
 
 3. Size 259 
 
 4. Ease and Difficulty 259 
 
 5. The Agreeable and Disagreeable 200 
 
 6- Climax in Sense 260 
 
 1 1 FIGURES 261 
 
 1. The Kinds of Figures 261 
 
 2 The Number of Figures 261 
 
 3. The Source of Figures 362 
 
 204 
 
1. Essential Elements of Discourse. 
 
 Every sentence is designed to communicate an 
 and employs language as the medium of communica- 
 tion. The idea may be definite to the mind of the 
 communicator, but vague to the interpreter of the sen 
 tence. This is because the medium does not always 
 perfectly reveal the idea. There is obviously such a 
 distinction between the idea and the medium as to 
 present two classes of facts for our consideration. 
 
 2. The Relations of Thought and Language. 
 
 A proper conception of the relations of an idea and 
 its medium of expression, is of primary importance. 
 As the question belongs both to Linguistics and to 
 Logic, we shall cite authorities from both sciences. 
 
 O " 
 
 (1) Language and Thought Separable. After show- 
 ing that thought is antecedent to expression,, Pro- 
 fessor Whitney says : "Language, then, is the spoken 
 means whereby thought is communicated, and it ia 
 only that. Language is not thought, nor is thought 
 language ; nor is there a mysterious and indisso- 
 luble connection between the two, as there is between 
 goul and body, so that the one cannot exist and 
 manifest itself without the other. There can hardly 
 
20 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 be a greater and more pernicious error, in linguistics 
 or in metaphysics, than the doctrine that language and 
 tli ought are identical. . . The body would bo 
 neither comfortable nor comely, if not clad ; cotton and 
 wool would be of little use, but for machinery making 
 quick and cheap their conversion into cloth ; and, in 
 a truly analogous way, thought would be awkward, 
 feeble, and indistinct, without the dress, the apparatus, 
 which is afforded by language. Our denial of the 
 identity of thought with its expression does not com- 
 pel us to abate one jot or tittle of the exceeding value 
 of speech to thought ; it only puts that value upon its 
 proper basis." * 
 
 (2) Language an Aid to Thought. Although 
 
 thought and its expression are distinct, words furnish 
 an indispensable aid to intricate or long continued 
 thinking. The manner in which assistance is afforded 
 is thus illustrated by Sir William Hamilton : " A coun- 
 try may be overrun by an armed host, but it is only 
 conquered by the establishment of fortresses. Words 
 are the fortresses of thought. They enable us to re- . 
 alize our dominion over what we have already overrun 
 in thought ; to make every intellectual conquest the 
 basis of operations for others still beyond. Or another 
 illustration : You have all heard of the process of tun 
 neling through a sand-bank. In this operation it is 
 impossible to succeed, unless every foot, nay almost 
 every inch in our progress, be secured by an arch of 
 masonry, before we attempt the excavation of another, 
 Now, language is to the mind precisely what the arcli 
 is to the tunnel. The power of thinking and ihe 
 power of excavating are not dependent on the word in 
 
 * Whitney's Language and the Study of Language. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 the one case, on the mason- work in the other ; c/u( 
 without these subsidiaries, neither process could bo 
 carried on beyond its rudimentary commencement, 
 Though, therefore, we allow that every movement for- 
 ward in language must be determined by an antecedent 
 movement forward in thought ; still, unless thought 
 be accompanied at each point of evolution, by a corre- 
 sponding evolution of language, its further develop- 
 ment is arrested."* 
 
 (3) Language Abbreviates Thinking. In addi- 
 tion to their recording power, but growing out of it, 
 is the power of words to take the place of a complex 
 conception, and thus to become an object of thought, 
 or thought itself. Leibnitz was the first to distinguish 
 between symbolical and intuitive conceptions. When 
 our notion of an object consists of a clear insight into 
 all its essential attributes, it is intuitive. When, on the 
 contrary, our notion is so complex that we do not at 
 once realize all its properties, it is symbolical. When 
 we use the words state, clmrcli, deity, designating com- 
 plex notions which we fully realize only after analysis, 
 the ivord, and not what it signifies, is the thought. If 
 we use the word in a single sense, and the propositions 
 containing it are true, such a symbol abbreviates the 
 processes of thought without inaccuracy. 
 
 (4) Language Vitiates Thought. Meaningless 
 
 combinations often result from the union of sym- 
 bols instead of things. This was the error of the 
 Schoolmen, who toyed with the signs of things vvith- 
 ut comparing things themselves. Much of the so 
 called "subjective poetry" is of this description. 
 
 Such is Dry den's stanza : 
 
 % 
 * Lectures on Logi&. 
 
22 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 44 From harmony, from heavenly harmony 
 
 This universal frame began ; 
 From harmony to harmony 
 
 Through all the compass of the notes it ran 
 The diapason closing full in man." 
 
 "In these sonorous lines/' Dr. Campbell 
 " there is not even a glimpse of meaning." 
 
 (5) Language an Instrument of Analysis. The eye 
 
 conveys to the mind an impression of an action as 
 a whole, but language is necessarily analytic. This 
 important property of language has been described as 
 follows by Archbishop Thomson : " As the mind does 
 not receive impressions passively, but reflects upon 
 them, decomposes them into their elements, and com- 
 part3S them with notions already stored up, language, 
 the close-fitting dress of our thoughts, is always analyt- 
 ical, it does not body forth a mere picture of facts, 
 but displays the working of the mind upon the facts 
 submitted to it, with the order in which it regards 
 them. This analysis has place even in the simplest 
 descriptions. 4 The bird is flying ' is an account of 
 one object which we behold, and in its present condi- 
 tion. But the object was single, while our description 
 calls up two notions 'bird' and 'flying,' and it is 
 plain that this difference is the result of an analysis 
 which the mind has performed, separating, in thought, 
 the bird from its present action of flying, and then 
 mentioning them together. In painting and sculpture, 
 on the contrary, we have languages that do not employ 
 analysis ; and a picture or statue would be called by 
 some a synthetic, or compositive sign, from the notion 
 that in it all the elements and qualities of the object 
 which would have been mentioned separately in a de- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 23 
 
 gcription, are thrown together and represented at one 
 view. The statue of the Dying Gladiator gives at one 
 glance all the principal qualities so finely analyzed by 
 the following description,, which, however, includes 
 *lso the poet's reflections upon and inferences from 
 the qualities he observes ; the objective impression ig 
 described, but with a development of the subjective 
 condition into which it throws the narrator. 
 
 " I see before me the Gladiator lie : 
 He leans upon his hand his manly brow 
 Consents to death but conquers agony, 
 And his drooped head sinks gradually low 
 And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow 
 From the red gash, fall heavy one by one, 
 Like the first of a thunder shower ; and now 
 The arena swims around him he is gone, 
 Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who 
 won. 
 
 He heard it, but he heeded not his eyes 
 Were with his heart, and that was far away ; 
 He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize, 
 But where his rude hut by the Danube lay : 
 There were his young barbarians all at play, 
 There was their Dacian mother he, their sire, 
 Butchered to make a Roman holiday ! 
 All this rushed with his blood shall he expire 
 And unavenged ? Arise 1 ye Goths, and glut your ire ! 
 
 BYBOK. 
 
 ' Here the analysis of the impression is carried to 
 its farthest; and in the second stanza the object be- 
 comes quite subordinate to the inferences and fancies 
 of the subject. But it is all the more striking as an 
 illustration of the principle, that language presents to 
 
24 IHTRODtJCTlOH. 
 
 us the analysis, as painting and sculpture the imita- 
 tions, of a sensible impression." * 
 
 With the progress of the human intellect, language 
 becomes less synthetic and more analytic, in order U 
 express new distinctions. 
 
 3. Modes of Expressing Ideas. 
 
 It is important for the comprehension of discourse 
 to dwell upon the various modes of expressing ideas, 
 and the peculiar advantages and disadvantages of lan- 
 guage as a medium of expression. 
 
 When a landscape is spread before the eye, we re- 
 ceive impressions of form, relation, color and motion. 
 These, united into a complex whole, give to the mind 
 a conception of the landscape. Now let the observer 
 be removed from the place, and try to convey that 
 conception to another. Memory may retain every 
 feature of the scene. The idea may be complete. The 
 problem is to communicate that idea to another mind. 
 
 (1) Drawing, This may be done by drawing. If 
 so, the outlines of each object may be perfect. The 
 shading may be an accurate representation of the gra- 
 dation of light on the natural objects. The relations 
 of the parts may be exact. The perspective may be so 
 true as to fulfill all the requirements of optical laws. 
 Yet color and motion, the two vital elements of 
 nature, must be wanting. 
 
 (2) Painting, In order to convey the idea still 
 more fully, the observer may resort to the painter's 
 brush. As before, outline, shade, perspective, relation 
 of parts, are all true to nature, and now color enlivens 
 the scene. The sky is warmed with the blush of dawn, 
 
 * Thomson's Outline of the Lvws of Thought. 
 
INTRO.WCTION. fe 
 
 the grass and leaves arc animated witli their own green 
 life, and the curling smoke of the cottage is no longei 
 of the same hue with the cloud. Yet, on closer iu 
 spection, the incessant stii of natural life is wanting, 
 there is no motion in the scene. 
 
 (3) Sculpture. Next the chisel of the sculptor 
 chips the white dust from the marble, until the scene 
 Is evoked from its smooth surface, and stands out in 
 relief. If now the painter adds color, the work com- 
 bines the skill of the draughtsman, the sculptor and 
 the painter. Formal art has exhausted itself. Still 
 there is no motion. That fisherman has been looking 
 steadily into the water for months and years, and has 
 caught nothing. It is as if a flood of liquid glass had 
 suddenly crept over the scene, holding all in its crys- 
 talline death-grip. To represent a five minutes' view 
 of the landscape would require a hundred pictures. 
 Motion, the most ceaseless and admirable principle of 
 all material existence, baffles the painter and sculptor, 
 and time, the measure of motion, is beyond all the arts 
 of pencil and chisel. 
 
 (4) Language. See now how Language airily lifts 
 the foot to the step which Painting cannot touch with 
 her longing finger-tips. Even Painting cannot express 
 this idea : 
 
 " Missing thee I walk unseen 
 On the dry, smooth-shaven green, 
 To behold the wandering moon 
 Riding near her highest noon, 
 Like one that had been led astray, 
 Through the heaven's wide pathless way 
 And oft, as if her head she bowed, 
 Stooping through a fleecy cloud." 
 
 The poet has described a scene which the paii<tez 
 
26 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ran not represent. The painter may place the moon in 
 (he zenith, bursting through a maze of silvery mist, so 
 I hat the active imagination might infer motion, but the 
 motion itself, which language so easily expresses in 
 "stooping as if her head she bowed," defies all formal 
 art. 
 
 4. Restrictions of Formal Art. 
 
 (1) Motion. We have just seen how any merely 
 imitative art is restricted from the representation of 
 motion. The last example sufficiently illustrates the 
 limitation. 
 
 (2) Time. Painting or Sculpture can scarcely tell 
 a story involving a succession of incidents, except as 
 they hint the narrative to such minds as are given to 
 reflection on the relations of cause and effect. Mr. 
 Ruskin has given a description of one of Tintoret's 
 paintings, in which the power of the artist's invention 
 is displayed by the ingenious triumph over the most 
 formidable obstacles of his art : 
 
 " In the center of the gallery at Parina, there is a canvas of 
 Tintoret's whose sublimity of conception and grandeur of color 
 are seen in the highest perfection, by their opposition to the 
 morbid and vulgar sentimentalism of Correggio. It is an En- 
 tombment of Christ, with a landscape distance. . . . An 
 ordinary or unimaginative painter would have made prominent, 
 among his objects of landscape, such as might naturally be sup 
 posed to have been visible from the sepulcher, and shown with 
 the crosses of Calvary some portion of Jerusalem, or of the Val 
 ley of Jehoshaphat. But Tintoret has a far higher aim. Dwell 
 ing on the peculiar force of the event before him, as the fulfil 
 inent o* the final prophecy respecting the passion, ' He made his 
 grave with the wicked and with the rich in his death,' he desire? 
 to direct the mind of the spectator to this receiving of the bod^ 
 of Christ, in its contrast with the houseless birth and the desert 
 life. And, therefore, behind the ghastly tomb-grass that shakee 
 
INTKODUCTIOK. 2*5 
 
 Its black and withered blades above the rocks of the sepulcher, 
 
 there is seen, not the actual material distance of the spot itself, 
 (though the crosses are shown faintly) but that to which tlve 
 thoughtful spirit would return in vision, a desert place, where 
 the foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, and 
 igainst the barred twilight of the melancholy sky are seen tke 
 aioldering beams and shattered roofing of a ruined cattle-shed 
 ~-ihe canopy of the nativity."* 
 
 This is exquisite, but altogether too subtile for gen 
 end apprehension. Features of this kind are generally 
 overlooked, because the appreciation of them depends 
 on an acuteness of perception not universally possessed. 
 It may be held, therefore, that painting has no power 
 of its own to express ideas of time. It here meets a 
 limitation which is no barrier to diction. The painter 
 must seize his subject at the one favorable moment ; 
 and here is another limitation, since ail moments are 
 not equally favorable. 
 
 (3) Power. Power, the cause of motion, may be 
 suggested in painting, but it is with difficulty that un- 
 usual power can be expressed. Homer, speaking of 
 Minerva's attack upon Mars, says : 
 
 " But she, retiring, with strong gvasp upheaved 
 A rugged stone, black, ponderous from the plain, 
 A landmark fixed by men of ancient times/' 
 
 Lessing, commenting on this passage, expresses his 
 views thus : 
 
 " In order properly to estimate the greatness of 
 this stone, we must remember that Homer makes hia 
 haroes for the nonce as strong as the strongest man in 
 his iay ; but he makes those men whom Nestor knew 
 
 * Modern Painters, Vol. 1. 
 
38 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 in his youth surpass them in strength. Now, T ask, 
 with respect to this stone, which not one man out ol 
 the men of Nestor's youthful contemporaries could 
 have put down for a boundary stone, now, I ask, if 
 Minerva had thrown such a stone at Mars, of what 
 stature must the goddess be ? If her stature is to be 
 proportioned to the greatness of the stone, then the 
 wonder ceases. A. man who is three times larger than 
 I am must naturally be able to throw a stone three 
 times greater. But if the stature of the goddess be 
 not proportioned to the greatness of the stone, then 
 there arises an evident improbability in the painting, 
 the repulsiveness of which is not removed by the cold 
 reflection that a goddess must have superhuman 
 strength. Where I see an effect greater than usual, I 
 expect to find an instrument greater than usual. And 
 Mars overthrown by this mighty stone, ' covered ten 
 acres.' It is impossible that the painter could give 
 this extraordinary size to the god, but if he does not 
 give it him, then Mars does not lie upon the ground, 
 like the Homeric Mars, but like a common war- 
 rior." * 
 
 (4) Penetrative Imagination. A consideration 
 of great importance to the relative value of the various 
 modes of expression is, that the best results of the 
 penetrative imagination, the power which reaches to 
 the essential constitution of things, cannot be ex- 
 pressed by any formal art. The genius of Tintoret 
 again vindicates the wondrous powers of painting, but 
 we must be content with a reference to Buskin's de- 
 scription of his " Massacre of the Innocents." f 
 
 * Laocoon. Sir Robert Pkillimore's Translation. 
 f Raskin's Modern Painters, vol. 1. 
 
LNTRODUCTIO^. ' 29 
 
 The limit of formal art will be seen by a study of 
 the following description of " Death." 
 "As silent and dark as a shadow, unmoved as a stone 
 That standeth all day in the desert, unseen and^done, 
 Waiteth Death: no breeze touches her mantle that fortieth right 
 
 down, 
 
 Over feet that we see not and hands that we see not ; a frown 
 Seems to drift down the distance and blight the fresh pastures 
 
 of life, 
 
 And an icy 'breath seems to flow from her and make the air rife 
 With tremblings." 
 
 " Over feet that we see not and hands that we see 
 not ! " What combination of line and color can pre- 
 sent this subtile image ? If unseen, surely not to be 
 expressed in line and color. The painter and sculptor 
 drape those unseen hands and feet, but then how shall 
 they be expressed ? How shall any formal art express 
 the idea of the "air rife with the tremblings of her icy 
 oreath?" 
 
 Another forcible illustration of the inability of 
 painting to represent the results of the penetrative 
 pagination is found in the mist with which Homer 
 envelops his heroes when he makes them invisible to 
 mortals. Painting has sometimes attempted to repre- 
 sent this invisibility by placing a thin cloud between 
 the hero and those from whom he is supposed to be 
 concealed. Lessing has pointed out the absurdity of 
 introducing this cloud into painting. 
 
 5. Restrictions of Language. 
 
 (1) Lessing's Limitation. Lessing seems to hare 
 gone too far in his generalization of the proper spheies 
 of poetry and painting. He truly says : " Paint- 
 ing makes use of figures and colors in space. Poetry, 
 
30 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of articulate sounds in time. The signs of the f mci 
 are natural ; those of the latter are arbitrary." But 
 he seems to err when he adds : " Express painl ng of 
 bolit)S [by wjiich he means description] is forl idden 
 to poetry." Mackintosh well asks what Chinese artist 
 could paint a buttertly better than Spenser. 
 
 " The velvet nap which on his wings doth lie, 
 The silken down with which his back is dight, 
 His broad outstretched horns, his hairy thighs^ 
 His glorious colors and his glistening eyes I " * 
 
 Here is a picture from Hood which is its ow*> justi- 
 fication against this limitation : 
 
 " Loud hissed the sea beneath her lee my little boat flew fas\+ 
 But faster still the rushing storm came borne upon the blast. 
 Lord ! what a roaring hurricane beset the straining sail ! 
 What furious sleet, with level drift, and fierce assaults of hail 
 What darksome caverns yawned before ! what jagged steepa 
 
 behind ! 
 
 Like battle steeds, with foamy manes, wild tossing in the wind, 
 Each after each sank down astern, exhausted in the chase, 
 But where it sank another rose and galloped in its place ; 
 As black as night they turned to white, and cast against the 
 
 cloud 
 A snowy sheet, as if each surge upturned a sailor's shroud." 
 
 If language is not as impressive as painting in ex- 
 press description, it falls little short of it ; while in the 
 communication of ideas of time, motion, and the results 
 of the penetrative imagination, language surpasses all 
 other means of expression. Nevertheless, with all 
 these excellences, language has serious disadvantages 
 as a medium of expression. 
 
 (2) The Symbolic Character of Words. Words 
 may be distinguished as presentive or symbolic, accord- 
 
 * Quoted by Sir Robert Phillimore. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 31 
 
 ing as they do or do not suggest substantive objects 
 to the mind. Thus at, but, ivhere, and the present 
 no objects to the mind, and are merely symbols foi 
 mental notions. Such words as lamp, post, flag-staff \ 
 .ind house do suggest objects to the mind. But aside 
 from this important distinction, all words are symbolic 
 i a broader sense, although, so strong is the tie of as- 
 sociation between words and things, we are in danger 
 of forgetting the symbolism. " When barbers' poles 
 were first erected, they were pictorial and present! ve, 
 for they indicated by white bands of paint the linei: 
 bandages which were used in blood-letting, an opera- 
 tion performed by the old surgeon-barbers. In oui 
 time we only know (speaking of the popular mind) 
 that the pole indicates a barber's shop, but why or how 
 is unknown. And this is symbolism." * Now most of 
 our words have no more connection with the objects 
 they signify than the barber's pole has with shaving or 
 hair-cutting. The connection is purely arbitrary and 
 accidental ; not natural and necessary. 
 
 (3) The Uncertainty of Words as a Medium. 
 Words are not, then, images of ideas reflected in a 
 faultless mirror. They are not even photographs re- 
 quiring only the addition of color. They are scarce- 
 ly "fragmentary sketches," furnishing the bare out- 
 lines of an idea, while much must be supplied by the 
 imagination to fill up the picture. However careful 
 and extended our training may have been, it cannot be 
 presumed that we know all the verbal signs in our own 
 language. The child can converse on only a few sub- 
 jects, and can understand only the most common 
 terms. In this respect all men are more or less 
 * Earle's Philology of the English Tonffue. 
 
32 INTRODUCTION-. 
 
 children. The English language contains over & 
 hundred thousand words. Of this vast number only a 
 few thousand are used hy any single person. To a 
 nucleus of a few hundred common terms every speaker 
 or writer adds many which are peculiar to his profes- 
 sion, his subject, his district, or the social class to which 
 he belongs, but which are unintelligible to the major- 
 ity of those who speak the same tongue. Each mind, 
 too, has feelings, cognitions, and conceptions which 
 other minds do not have. There are various proper 
 styles of expressing the same idea, depending upon the 
 discernment of different relations and analogies. There 
 are distinctions in thought which all have not made. 
 So we do not speak the same words, or attach to them 
 the same meaning. Thus a liability of being misun- 
 derstood or unintelligible belongs to all language, 
 however carefully it may be used. 
 
 (4) Language an Impediment, Again, language 
 js an actual impediment in the communication of 
 ideas. The shaft which communicates the power ol 
 an engine to the machinery is itself an obstruction-, 
 since some of the power is required to move the shaft. 
 If it can be reduced in size and weight without failing 
 to transmit the force, so much the better ; and, by 
 progressive approach, it follows that it would .best 
 serve the purpose when its weight should be reduced 
 to zero. So in language, words are often an incum- 
 brance. A simple pointing to the door is much moie 
 impressive than to say, "leave the room." A smile 
 of approbation or of contempt is more suggestive than 
 an elaborate sentence. As power cannot be applied to 
 some kinds of machinery except by a complex system 
 of cog-wheels, so some ideas cannot be expressed except 
 
INTRODUCTION. 33 
 
 by words ; yet the cog-wheels are an incumbrance ren- 
 dered necessary by the conditions of the case, and so 
 ire words. They are media of power, but themselyc s 
 absorb some of it. 
 
 6. Excellence of Style Relative. 
 
 The perfection of style is, therefore, merely relative, 
 and not absolute. It cannot be perfect in melody, for 
 while sometimes it may glide along with liquid smooth- 
 ness, at others it must grate upon the ear, or fail to ex- 
 press its contained idea. It cannot be perfect in uni- 
 versality, for, since its signs are conventional, it must 
 change with those to whom it is addressed. The fleet- 
 ing and mutable elements of language render it impos- 
 sible for it to be perfect, or even intelligible, for more 
 than a few generations, except in the most mature and 
 stationary languages ; and a stationary living language 
 is impossible among a progressive people. The poems 
 of Chaucer cannot be said to bo written in a style 
 which we can recognize as good, until, by the help of a 
 glossary, we become Englishmen of the fourteenth 
 century. 
 
 In all these respects, language is placed at a great 
 disadvantage as a means of expression. All men who 
 have eyes may perceive the genius of Zeuxis and Phid- 
 ias, but Homer and ^Eschylus are nonentities to the 
 masses of men, unless their works are translated ; in 
 other words, their expression must go for naught, uiid 
 their ideas must be revealed anew. 
 
 7. The Difference between Prose and 
 Poetry. 
 
 Prose and Poetry are both forms of discourse, and 
 
34 INTRODUCTION, 
 
 may be treated together. The distinction between 
 them has been much discussed. Definiteness of view 
 >n this subject is necessary to the comprehension of 
 several principles of expression. 
 
 (1) Aristotle's Opinion. Aristotle views poeln 
 as consisting in imitation. * But nothing can be fat 
 thcr from imitation than most poetry. (( In the first 
 place," says Professor Masson, "that it is verse at all is 
 a huge deviation in itself from what is in any ordinary 
 sense natural. Men do not talk in good literary prose, 
 much less in blank verse or rhyme. Macbeth, in his 
 utmost strait and horror Lear, when the lightnings 
 scathed his white head did not actually talk in me- 
 ter." f Goethe declared that art is called art simply 
 because it is not nature. 
 
 (2) Bacon's Opinion. Bacon makes poetry to con- 
 sist in fiction, and says it is "nothing else but feignea 
 history, which may be styled as well in prose as in verse. "J 
 
 (3) Coleridge's Opinion. Coleridge denies that the 
 true antithesis is between prose and poetry, but asserts 
 that it is between poetry and science.^ 
 
 (1) Buskin's Opinion. Ruskin, after much re- 
 flection, concludes that poetry is " The suggestion by 
 the imagination of noble grounds for noble emotions.'"^ 
 According to this, Carlyle's Essays and the eighth 
 chapter of Paul's Epistle to the Romans would be 
 poetry of the highest class. 
 
 (5) Dr. Whately's View. Doctor Whatelj de- 
 flees his views thus : "Any composition in verse (and 
 
 * Aristotle's Poetic, Chap. I. 
 
 f PJssays Chiefly on the English Poets. 
 
 \ Advancement of Learning. 
 
 Works, vol. ii. T Modern Painter*, vol. H. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 35 
 
 none that is not) is always called, whether good or 
 bad, a poem, by all who have no favorite hypothesis to 
 maintain."* Mr. De Quincey has invalidated the 
 Archbishop's position by showing that, on a question 
 not of fact but of opinion, those are cited as the best 
 authority who professedly have no opinion. f 
 
 (6) The True Difference Based on Effects. 
 Failing to find satisfaction from those who have dis- 
 cussed the subject, let us attempt an analysis. If 
 prose and poetry are really distinguished by any 
 difference, it does not lie wholly in the form, since 
 that has changed from age to age. Again, since 
 poetry is recognized by all civilized races, there must 
 be something in man which makes the difference We 
 find in man three classes of powers ; the intellect, the 
 feelings, and the will. If we observe the effect of dis- 
 course upon the mind, we shall find that three distinct 
 kinds of effect are produced, which lead men to dis- 
 tinguish common prose, poetry, and eloquence. When 
 ideas are addressed chiefly to the intellect, we say they 
 are prosaic ; when to the feelings, that they are poet- 
 ical ; when to the will, that they are eloquent. Kus- 
 kin's prose is often poetical ; some of Pope's poetry is 
 confessedly prosaic. Thus far for the distinction of 
 prose and poetry as related to idea. There is another 
 element, form. Strong emotions and eager passions 
 spontaneously express themselves by a rhythmical 
 movement. Love, death, and war move men to whai 
 in ordinary circumstances they wou'^Jl not attempt 
 the writing of verse. Meter, rhythm, and, in unin- 
 flected languages, rhyme, are the natural forms for the 
 
 * Rhetoric, Part iii, Chap, iii, 3. 
 f De Quincey's Review of Whatety. 
 
36 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 expression of pure feeling.* Pure thought is content 
 with the irregular forms of prose, and, unless united 
 with feeling in sentiment, seems awkward and absurd 
 in verse. Poetry and prose differ, tlion, in idea and in 
 form. Poetry is emotive ideas in emotive language ; 
 prose is intellective ideas in intellective language. Both 
 are forms of discourse, and may be treated together. 
 
 (7) The Difference Relative. This difference be- 
 tween prose and poetry is simply relative. There 
 are compositions upon which a conclusive judgment 
 could scarcely be passed, since they possess such a 
 union of thought and feeling, and a form so rhyth- 
 mical without being verse as to defy classification. 
 This, however, is no objection to our offering a defini- 
 tion, or insisting upon the one already given. We 
 all agree that a vegetable is not an animal, yet there 
 are forms of life so closely uniting the characteristic? 
 of each as to puzzle the most expert in classification. 
 Of course, almost any specimen of prose contains some 
 element of feeling. The most heartless, and, there- 
 lore, real prose is, A is B, C is A, therefore C is B. 
 Even this formula has some emotive power when we 
 descend from the airy region of pure abstraction, and 
 make A B and signify objects having human rela- 
 tions. To some minds there is a poetical element in 
 the driest mathematical reasoning, especially when it^ 
 lifts the veil from infinitude, and displays the harmony, 
 order, and benevolence which the science of nnmbei? 
 roveals. So, on the other hand, true poetry is nevci 
 wholly devoid of thought. It appeals to the sensibili- 
 ties through the intellect. What constitutes it poetry 
 is, that, in both form and idea, it aims at and reaches 
 * The reason 5s given in Book III. Chap, iii, Sect. i. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 31 
 
 the seat of emotion, and does riot stop at the intellect 
 which translates it and unfolds it to the feelings. 
 Kvcry faculty of the intellect is thus addressed by 
 poetry as well as hy prose. Indeed, it is only as it ad- 
 dresses the feelings through the different faculties of 
 the intellect, that poetry is capable of any philosoph- 
 ical classification. 
 
 (8) Versification a Part of Grammar. Although 
 
 poetry is here regarded as a form of discourse, versifi- 
 cation is excluded from the province of Rhetoric, 
 since it belongs properly to Grammar. Its rules are 
 given in that science under the fourth division, 
 or Prosody. 
 
 8. The Province of Rhetoric. 
 
 All worthy discourse aims at producing some 
 change in the mind addressed. It may be a change of 
 knowledge, or instruction ; a change of opinions, or 
 conviction ; a change of disposition, or persuasion ; or 
 a change of the passing emotion for its own sake, or 
 mere entertainment Whatever this change be, it is 
 produced by ideas. These ideas are effective in pro- 
 ducing the change only when they are assimilated to 
 the dominant ideas of the mind addressed. The rhet- 
 orical process extends farther than the mere presenta- 
 tion of ideas ; it is complete only when those ideas are 
 referred to the preexisting ideas of the person addressed 
 in such a manner that they will effect the desired 
 change. All mental changes take place in accordance 
 with certain laws. As an art. Rhetoric communicates 
 ideas according to these laws ; as a science, it discovers 
 aud establishes these laws. Rhetoric is, therefore, the 
 science of the laws of effective discourse. 
 
3b IJTTRODUCTIOK. 
 
 9. Related Sciences. 
 
 Rhetoric is closely allied with several sciences which 
 deal in some way with discourse. 
 
 (1) Grammar. Every language has its peculiar 
 i lioms and forms. These constitute its special gram 
 mar. Universal or philosophical grammar considers 
 language generally as an instrument of thought and 
 expression. Rhetoric is distinct from every form of 
 grammar, and everywhere presupposes grammatical 
 accuracy. 
 
 (2) Logic. Discourse is governed by certain laws 
 of thought which must be regarded in effective speech. 
 These laws of pure thought are the subject matter of 
 Logic. While Logic deals with the nature and laws 
 of thought, Rhetoric deals with the effective commu- 
 nication of thought. Logic is the statics, Rhetoric the 
 dynamics of thought. 
 
 (3) JEsthetics. Language, in common with every- 
 thing else which can affect the sensibilities, is the sub- 
 ject-matter of applied ^Esthetics. This science is 
 closely connected with the proper estimate of discourse 
 regarded as a fine art. It is an important auxiliary, 
 but by no means a rival of Rhetoric. 
 
 (4) Psychology. As the science of effecting 
 mental changes, Rhetoric often borders closely upon 
 the science of Psychology, which treats of the laws of 
 mind. Any effective presentation of ideas to the mind 
 for the purpose of changing it, presupposes some 
 knowledge of its laws. Hence Rhetoric, though dis 
 tinct in its province, borrows many facts and laws from 
 Psychology. 
 
 (5) Elocution. Vocal delivery has often been re- 
 garded as a part of Rhetoric. Although it is an im- 
 
INTRO DUCTIOK. 39 
 
 portaiiJ aid to the effectiveness of discourse, several 
 considerations exclude it from this science. Elocution 
 is a bodily exercise requiring a peculiar kind of train- 
 ing. A person may acquire excellence as a writer whilo 
 deficient as a speaker, and hence may be a rhetorician 
 without being an elocutionist. Ideas may be expressed 
 to the eye as well as to the ear, so that elocution has 
 no closer connection with Rhetoric than Penmanship. 
 
 10. Departments of Rhetoric. 
 
 Discourse, then, aims to produce a change (1) in 
 the mind, (2) ~by means of ideas, (3) expressed through 
 language. The science of producing mental changes 
 must include an account of the laws of the mind, the 
 idea, and the form. The laws of mind which affect 
 the change of ideas, the peculiar characteristics of the 
 main classes of ideas, the special properties of language 
 as a medium of expression, all belong to the sphere oi 
 Rhetoric. The remainder of this work, therefore, con- 
 sists of the following main divisions : 
 
 BOOK I. LAWS or MIKD. 
 
 BOOK II. LAWS OP IDEA. 
 
 BOOK III. LAWS OF FOBM. 
 
40 
 
 INTKODUCTIOtf. 
 
 SYNOPSIS. 
 
 Rhetoric. ' 
 
 I. Laws of Mind. 
 
 II. Laws of Idea. 
 
 HI. Laws of Form. 
 
 
 
 1 Laws of Iitellecl 
 
 1. General Laws. -< 
 
 2 Laws of the Fool- 
 
 
 
 ipgs. 
 
 11 Effects of Ajre. 
 
 
 
 2. Effects of Expe- 
 
 II. 
 
 Particular Laws. 
 
 rience. 
 
 
 
 3. Effects of Affilia- 
 
 
 
 tion. 
 
 I. Description. 
 
 il. Objects of Sense 
 2. Mental States. 
 
 
 
 3. Character. 
 
 
 
 '1. Selection of Cir 
 
 
 
 cumstances. 
 
 n. 
 
 Narration. 
 
 2. Sequence of 
 
 
 
 Events. 
 
 
 
 3. Synchronism of 
 
 
 
 Events. 
 
 
 
 1. Of a Notion in 
 
 
 1 
 
 Itself. 
 
 in. 
 
 Exposition. 
 
 2. Of a Notion thro 
 
 
 
 Another. 
 
 
 
 1. A priori Argu- 
 
 
 
 ments. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Argumentation 
 
 " 
 
 2. Arguments froie 
 Sfgn. 
 
 
 
 o. Arguments from 
 
 
 
 Resemblance. 
 
 
 
 4. Conduct of a 
 
 
 
 Discourse. 
 
 
 
 1. Diction. 
 
 I. Plain Language. 
 
 2. Sentences. 
 
 
 
 '1. Founded on Re- 
 
 
 
 semblance. 
 
 II. 
 
 Figures. 
 
 2. Founded on Con- 
 tiguity. 
 
 
 
 3. Founded on Con 
 
 
 
 trast. 
 
 
 
 1. Variety. 
 
 m. 
 
 The Peelings. 
 
 2. Harmony. 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 OF MINL 
 
THE 
 
 SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 BOOK I. LAWS OF MIND. 
 
 1. Method of Treatment Explained. 
 
 The philosophy of the human mind is too vast a 
 theme for even the briefest outline in a work like this. 
 Psychology, ./Esthetics, and Logic are extensive and 
 important sciences, which should receive due attention 
 from the rhetorician. This treatment of the Laws of 
 Mind in their relations to Rhetoric is, accordingly, but 
 an imperfect sketch, designed to direct attention to 
 the necessity of studying mental science, if one would 
 excel in the science of discourse. 
 
 2. Classification of Mental Phenomena. 
 
 The phenomena of the mind may all be referred to 
 the following three classes : 
 
 (1) Knowledge, or Cognitions ; 
 
 (2) Pleasures and Pains, or Feelings ; 
 
 (3) Exertions, or Conations. 
 
 3 Relations of these Phenomena. 
 
 These phenomena are important to the rhetorician, 
 since his purpose of assimilating new ideas to the mind 
 addressed can be accomplished tli rough these only. 
 
44 THE SCIENCE OF RHETOKIC. 
 
 Without cognition there could be neither feeling noi 
 conation ; and without feeling there could be no cona- 
 (ion. For example, a person is fond of cards. " In 
 a company where he beholds a game in progress, there 
 arises a desire to join in it. Now the desire is hen 
 manifestly kindled by the pleasure which the person 
 had, and has, in the play. The feeling thus connects 
 the cognition of the play with the desire to join in it ; 
 it forms the bridge, and contains the motive, by which 
 we are aroused from mere knowledge to appetency, 
 to conation, by reference to which we move ourselves 
 so as to attain the end in view."* Men are moved to 
 action by three steps : (1) an idea is presented to the 
 mind for cognition ; (2) the idea produces a state of 
 feeling ; (3) the feeling excites action. 
 
 4, Division of this Book. 
 
 There are certain laws of mind which are universal 
 among sane men. In addition to these, there are cer- 
 tain rules of action which grow out of particular modes 
 of life or degrees of mental development. We need, 
 therefore, to consider separately the general laws of 
 mind, and the particular laws depending upon indi- 
 vidual circumstances. 
 
 * Quoted by Sir William Hamilton Metaphysics 
 
THE GENERAL LAWS OF MIND. 
 
 THE rhetorician must address the mind in accord- 
 ance with its laws of action. This requires him to 
 adapt his ideas to (1) the INTELLECT, or faculty of 
 cognition ; (2) the FEELINGS, or faculty of sensibility. 
 Theso divisions of mind will be considered in the 
 following sections. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 INTELLECT. 
 
 IF dividing and classifying the powers of the mind, 
 it should be remembered that the mind is a unit, and 
 that all its powers are contemporaneously exerted. 
 Yet, for purposes of study, we must subject the mind 
 to dissection, as the anatomist does the body. The 
 intellect is occupied with discourse in three ways ; (1) 
 as REASON, (?) as IMAGINATION, and (3) as MEMORY. 
 
 I. REASON. 
 
 1. Nature of the Laws of Thought. 
 
 When we s^A of laws of thought as the universal 
 and necessary conditions of mental action, it must not 
 be supposed that the necessity is the same as in the 
 material world. The laws of thought may be violated, 
 
46 THE SCIENCE OF KHETORIC. 
 
 while in the physical world a law signifies a constant 
 mode of action. Logical necessity refers to a precept 
 which we may violate, but not without invalidating 
 our whole mental process. These laws of thought are 
 the necessary conditions of valid thinking, and not 
 necessary modes of action, like the law of gravitation. 
 The treatment of these laws belongs properly to Logic, 
 but they must be kept in mind by the rhetorician. A 
 full discussion of them will be found in most works on 
 Logic. Only a few practical suggestions are given 
 here. 
 
 2. Rhetorical Use of the Laws of Thought. 
 
 The speaker or writer must address the mind in 
 accordance with these laws, or encounter opposition to 
 his ideas. He may, indeed, succeed in imposing falla- 
 cies upon the unthinking, but even the most ignorant 
 possess an intelligence which cannot be wholly disre- 
 garded. Confidence in the authority of another may 
 insure the reception of paradoxical statements to some 
 extent, but the mind is so constituted that it instinct- 
 ively rejects whatever is manifestly inconsistent with 
 its own laws. Fallacies are not open violations of the 
 laws of thought, but subtle evasions of them, which 
 the intelligence does not detect. A fallacy seems to 
 satisfy the conditions of valid thinking without really 
 doing so. Since the rhetorician is subject to the laws 
 of ethics, not as a rhetorician, but as a moral being, 
 he has no more right to use an intentional fallacy than 
 to employ any other kind of deception. The true rhe- 
 torical procedure is to address the understanding in 
 such a manner as to satisfy the requirements of its laws 
 and show a marked respect for its authority. 
 
LAWS OF MIND. 4? 
 
 3. Direct Address to the Reason. 
 
 Reason differs from some other faculties of tli3 
 mind in admitting of direct appeal. Men naturally 
 oppose any avowed attempt on the part of a writer or 
 speaker to dictate to the feelings, but readily accord to 
 him the privilege of assisting them in the operations 
 of reason. Truth is often so many-sided and so diffi- 
 cult of apprehension, that aid in reaching correct 
 judgments is not thought to imply inferiority. It is, 
 therefore, no offense if we announce a proposition to 
 be proved, and invite candid criticism of the argu- 
 ments adduced. It rather gives evidence of fairness 
 in presenting our ideas, and is a compliment to the 
 persons addressed, as if a recognition that they possess 
 a test of truth. 
 
 4. General Confidence in Reason. 
 
 If not universally recognized as an absolute stand- 
 ard of truth, reason is nevertheless the highest tribu- 
 nal to which men may appeal in the affairs of life. It 
 is generally confessed to be correct in its decisions 
 unless deceived by fallacies. However much one may 
 doubt the infallibility of others, most men confide in 
 their own acuteness in detecting sophistry. They are 
 far more distrustful of their feelings, even when these 
 are known to be such as the occasion demands, or 
 even to fall far short of their proper intensity. Even 
 experience is sometimes questioned when it conflict? 
 with rational consistency. Truth is instinctively felt 
 to be a harmony between our conceptions and reali- 
 ties, and consistency is demanded in facts as well as in 
 thought. A plausible theory is often more readily 
 received than an anomalous fact. 
 
48 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 5. Permanence of Fallacious Notions. 
 
 It is a fact of great importance to the rhetorician 
 :hat the strongest emotions are generally of brief dura- 
 tion,, while a fallacy may remain undetected long after 
 it begins to deceive the mind. The feelings change 
 with the surroundings, while reason remains the same. 
 Hence a determination based on a temporary emotion 
 may be lost when the emotion has subsided and the 
 mind views the facts in a different aspect. But a con- 
 viction founded on a train of reasoning having once 
 been reached, our confidence in our conclusion often 
 prevents a re-examination of the facts. Even if we 
 revise our former reasoning, a fallacy which once de- 
 ceived may continue to elude us. Emotion dominates 
 over the mind less and less with the progress of time, 
 while a fallacy, if not detected, becomes more and 
 more influential. By being repeatedly assumed as 
 true, a false conclusion at last acquires the force of an 
 undisputed truth, and often propagates itself by being 
 dsed as a premise in other reasoning. 
 
 6. Importance of the Laws of Thought. 
 
 Since the mind is governed by certain laws of 
 thought in which men confide as the highest authority, 
 every presentation of ideas to the mind must recognize 
 the existence of these laws. N"or is it safe to trifle 
 with them, v ;o say nothing of the moral requirements 
 of the case. They are the natural safeguards of the 
 mind, preserving it from delusion and felly. They 
 are the only defense of the unsophisticated against 
 the trickery of the demagogue and the charlatan. 
 However they may be perverted, these laws are the sen* 
 
LAWS OF MIXD. 49 
 
 duels of the mind, demanding the passport of every 
 new idea which claims admission, and, although they 
 oiay be deceived by sophistry, and enticed from duty 
 oy interest, they generally guard the portals of Truth' 
 temple with vigilance and fidelity. 
 
 II. IMAGINATION. 
 
 The imagination is the faculty which represents 
 images to the mind. We shall find it the basis of at- 
 tention, bolief, and action. 
 
 1. Attention. 
 
 Attention is the concentration of the consciousness 
 upon some one idea or class of ideas. Its intensity and 
 duration are influenced by the forms in which ideas 
 are presented. Dry and abstract formulas are generally 
 repulsive except to trained minds. Objects of sense, 
 especially in new combinations, are capable of holding 
 Jie attention through the imagination. Forms and 
 colors engage the attention by pleasing the mind. 
 Accordingly the rhetorician who would hold the atten- 
 tion of either readers or hearers must so present his 
 ideas as to fulfill this condition of mental action. 
 Long and involved processes of argument must be so 
 relieved by an appeal to this faculty, as to occupy it 
 with the subject, or it will spontaneously engage itself 
 with its own creations, and the attention will be lost 
 apon these. 
 
 2. Belief. 
 
 Intensity of belief depends upon a vivid realization 
 
 of relations. We are often more deeply moved by a 
 
 poet's fancies than by the most thoroughly established 
 
 convictions. Although we may yield a cold assent to 
 
 3 
 
50 . THE SCIENCE OF KHETGRIG, 
 
 an abstract proposition which has been proved by ap- 
 parently valid reasoning, still its influence over our life 
 is comparatively slight. The scenes and characters of 
 a fictitious story are much more real to us than the 
 events and heroes of a dry historical compend. For 
 the moment we believe in details purely imaginary, 
 when they are addressed to the power of representation 
 so as to fill the mind. Ideas thus communicated be- 
 come associated strongly in the mind, and belief is 
 often revived by the vivid recurrence of the images 
 which excited it. 
 
 3. Action, 
 
 Action is the product of thought and feeling. An 
 object is presented to the mind, the contemplation of 
 it awakens desires, and the desires lead to action. 
 Without the presentation of objects which excite the 
 feelings, no action can be produced. Hence the im- 
 agination must be employed by the rhetorician as a 
 principal assistant in persuasion. 
 
 III. MEMORY. 
 
 Complex ideas can be presented to the mind only 
 by the aid of memory. The action of the mind in 
 some of its more prolonged processes will illustrate 
 this. 
 
 1. Conviction. 
 
 A change in the opinions is generally produced Lj 
 argumentation. This requires a series of propositions 
 to be shown in their relation to one another, and often 
 occupies considerable time. In what is called " moral " 
 or " probable " reasoning, where the conclusion is based 
 
LAWS OF MIND. 51 
 
 upon a number of particulars which separately are of 
 email value, but which are conclusive when contem- 
 plated together, this exercise of memory is absolutely 
 necessary to the argument. Even in demonstrative 
 reasoning, where the conclusion is obtained from a 
 single proposition by a series of deductions, the pro- 
 cesses are often numerous, and the order of the steps 
 is important. Since the effect of argument upon the 
 mi rid requires the retention of these successive steps, 
 the rhetorician must construct his argument in such 
 a manner as to avoid the danger of missing an impor- 
 tant link in the chain. 
 
 2. Persuasion. 
 
 As we have seen, persuasion depends upon the 
 cognition of some idea which excites feeling, which in 
 turn stimulates action. Usually the will is moved 
 only when a number of motives are presented, either 
 together or in close array. The aggregation of mo- 
 tives in persuasion requires the exercise of memory, 
 in order to keep before the mind the incentives suc- 
 cessively presented. 
 
 3. Language. 
 
 Language, the medium of expression in discourse, 
 is so related to time that the memory must be em- 
 ployed to treasure up its symbols for comparative 
 interpretation. This function of memory is vitally 
 connected with the laws of form, and will be notice*? 
 again in treating of them. 
 
62 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 THE FEELINGS. 
 
 The second main class of mental phenomena should 
 be studied with great care by the rhetorician. No one 
 would have the presumption to play upon an organ 
 with a score of stops unless he were skilled in their 
 management. The human heing is capable of a greater 
 variety of feelings than an organ is of tones. The 
 orator who does not understand the laws of feeling may 
 not make audible discords, but he is sure to violate the 
 harmonic principles of a far higher and more wonder- 
 ful music. Only a brief outline of the theory of the 
 feelings can be given here. We shall consider (1) the 
 CLASSIFICATION of the feelings ; (2) the PKODUCTION 
 of emotions, and (3) the MODIFICATION of emotions. 
 
 I. CLASSIFICATION. 
 
 1. Necessary Imperfection. 
 
 Any classification of the feelings must be imperfect 
 from the nature of this mode of mind. It is easy to 
 classify objects which may be pointed out and named, 
 but states of feeling are not so easily distinguished. 
 Any classification must be cumbrous and superficial, 
 and can only supply an outline. 
 
 2. Sensations and Sentiments. 
 
 If the finger be pricked with a pin, apart from the 
 knowledge that the cuticle has been punctured, then/ 
 
LAWS OF MIND. 53 
 
 is something else which we call pain. Such a, feeling 
 produced in the bodily organism is called a sensation. 
 
 You stand in the presence of a beautiful painting 
 representing a benevolent act. Apart from the knowl- 
 edge of the skill with which the painting is executed 
 and the utility of the act, you are conscious of beauty 
 in the picture and morality in the act. This sense of 
 beauty and of morality we call sentiments. 
 
 It is not the part of the rhetorician to deal with 
 sensations, which are bodily affections, but he must 
 understand the sentiments, which are mental affections, 
 or he can never skillfully move to action the mind 
 addressed. 
 
 3. Scheme of the Sentiments. 
 
 The following scheme, modified for our purpose 
 from Hamilton, may be useful in exhibiting the vari- 
 ous sentiments which govern human action : 
 
 ( Tedium. 
 Contemplative. < Truth. 
 
 f ^Esthetic emotions. 
 
 Sentiments. \ ( Self-preservation. 
 
 I Enjoyment of existence. 
 Practical. -[ Preservation of the species. 
 
 Self-development. 
 I Moral law. 
 
 Any existing form of sentiment, simple or complex, 
 may be called an emotion. This term will be used in- 
 terchangeably with the word sentiment. For a full 
 treatment of these sentiments, reference may be n>a<lu 
 to Hamilton's Metaphysics. 
 
64 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 II. THE PRODUCTION OF EMOTION. 
 1. The Necessity of Feeling. 
 
 That action is impossible without feeling, in th<i 
 sense in which it is here used, has been shown by Dr. 
 Campbell. ''To say that it is possible to persuade 
 without speaking to the passions, is but at best a kind 
 of specious nonsense. The coolest reasoner always in 
 persuading, addresseth himself to the passions in some 
 way or other. This he cannot avoid doing, if he speak 
 to the purpose. To make me believe, it is enough to 
 show me that things are so ; to make me act, it is ne- 
 cessary to show that the action will answer some end. 
 That can never be an end to me which gratifies no 
 passion or affection in my nature. You assure me ' It 
 is for my honor.' Now you solicit my pride, without 
 which I had never been able to understand the word. 
 You say, ' It is for my interest.' Now you bespeak my 
 self-love. ' It is for the public good.' Now you rouse 
 my patriotism. ( It will relieve the miserable.' Now 
 you touch my pity. So far therefore is it from being 
 an unfair method of persuasion to move the passions, 
 that there is no persuasion without moving them." * 
 
 2. Emotions Involuntary. 
 
 No one can produce a given kind of feeling by sim- 
 ply willing to do so Dr. Whately compares feeling 
 to the involuntary organs and processes of the body. 
 We cannot alter any of the bodily secretions by a voli- 
 lion, nor can we directly retard or accelerate the pul- 
 sations of the heart. Our control over the feelings 
 
 * Philosophy of Rfietoric. 
 
LAWS OF MIND. 55 
 
 depends upon the use of the appointed means. As 
 we may affect the secretioirs, or the action of the hcatl, 
 oy taking medicines, so we may excite a feeling of a 
 certain kind by presenting the stimulating objects to 
 the mind. To arouse the emotion of beauty, we must 
 present a beautiful object ; to excite pity, wo must 
 present a scene or person that will call it forth. 
 
 3. Stimulating Circumstances. 
 
 Several circumstances are specially adapted to the 
 production of feeling. 
 
 (1) Probability. Probability is based on proof, 
 und so operates upon the emotional nature with the 
 force of conviction. When the probability is absolute, 
 feeling has the assurance of demonstration. The most 
 ingenious speculations are often devoid of interest if 
 wanting in probability. 
 
 (2) Verisimilitude, Verisimilitude arises from a 
 consistent narrative. It must be distinguished from 
 probability, which has relation to actuality, while veri- 
 similitude has reference to consistency. A story want- 
 ing in verisimilitude, requires strong external evidence 
 to render it probable. A narrative may want verisi- 
 militude and still be true, or it may possess verisimili- 
 tude, and still be false. Probability results from 
 pi oof ; verisimilitude is an internal consistency. The 
 historian aims at probability ; the poet and novelist 
 aim at verisimilitude. The latter alone is necessary 
 to the production of sympathetic interest. Fiction 
 arouses our emotions as well as history, and produces 
 the same sympathetic effect. 
 
 (3) Ideal Presence. The power of fiction to affect 
 the mind is wholly owing to ideal presence, or im 
 
56 THE SCIEKCE OF KHETORIC. 
 
 aginative realization of relations. In a perfect ae! 
 of memory, it is the ideal presence which excites eino 
 tion. In reading fiction, this ideal presence ma) 7 bo s.( 
 rividly realized by the imagination as to seem for UK 
 moment actual. In reading history also, it is the same 
 ideal presence which occupies the mind. Lord Kanies 
 remarks that history and fiction here stand upon the 
 same footing. Nor is the emotion produced by history 
 less modified by reflection than that produced by fiction. 
 If the reflection that a description is pure fiction will 
 destroy our sympathy, so to an equal degree will the 
 reflection that the historical personages are not in ex. 
 J5tence. Why should the story of Caesars assassination 
 excite our horror, when Csesar has been past help for 
 nearly twenty centuries ? Why should the story of 
 little Nell, as told by Dickens, move our sympathy, 
 when we know that little Nell is a creation of the brain ! 
 The picture is truthful and vivid, the scenes are ideally 
 present, and hence momentarily real. 
 
 (4) Minute Details. Since the feelings are awak 
 ened by contemplation, it is important to dwell upon 
 the ideas which excite the feelings. These are not 
 abstractions, but minute and pictorial details. The 
 word "battle" is not very terrible, but a detailed ac- 
 count of a battle, from the first shock of encounter to 
 the personal sufferings of the wounded and dying, and 
 the desolation of the bereaved, touches the whole emo- 
 tional nature, and we "live the battle o'er." This 
 principle is instinctively acted upon when in announc- 
 ing sad news we suppress all details. Homer with con- 
 summate art represents the messenger as announcing 
 the death of Patroclus to Achilles in the brief sentence, 
 "Patroclus is fallen ;" to the reader, whose sympathy 
 
LAWS OF MIND, 57 
 
 must be aroused, he gives a detailed account of the 
 battle in which Patroclus fell. 
 
 (5) Proximity of Time. The effect of proxim- 
 .ty of time upon the feelings may be illustrated in many 
 ways. Events long past do not affect us like those 
 of yesterday. The accident of the hour creates a gen- 
 eral sensation, while a more terrible catastrophe of by- 
 gone years scarcely engages the attention. Death is 
 the inevitable termination of every life, but that event 
 touches our feelings only as it is believed to be near 
 Ingenious story-tellers represent their tale as new 
 Orators impress upon their auditors the necessity of 
 immediate action because of immediate consequences. 
 As a rule, men are more interested in the future than 
 in the past. 
 
 (6) Proximity Of Place. Nearness of locality has 
 an effect corresponding to proximity of time. Space 
 seems to be a closer bond of interest than time. 
 Men are more generally interested in historical events 
 of their own country during preceding centuries, than 
 in the occurrences of the same century in far off lands. 
 Some lands, by classic or religious associations, are of 
 special interest notwithstanding their distance. We 
 are more interested in the prosperity of our neighbors 
 than in that of aliens. An accident in Europe excites 
 but little sympathy compared with a mishap to a fellow 
 townsman, although he be not a personal acquaintance. 
 The scenes of great events are more expressive than 
 their a n n iversaries. 
 
 (7) Personal Relation, The ties of consanguinity. 
 friendship, acquaintance, even citizenship, are influ- 
 ential in arousing our feelings. A relative under 
 arrest, a friend in trouble, an acquaintance killed 
 
 3* 
 
58 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 in battle, a fellow citizen unjustly treated,, are moru 
 likely to stir our sympathy than foreigners in like con- 
 jit ions. This general statement is subject to some 
 limitation. The tendency of modern life, inspired by 
 the precepts of Christian fraternity, is toward broader 
 feimpathies and the extinction of the clannish spirit. 
 
 (8) Indirectness, In order to convince the un- 
 derstanding, it is necessary to keep before the mind 
 the precise point to be established. The method of 
 argumentation is, therefore, direct. The opposite 
 method is most readily productive of feeling. Hence 
 the less formal and announced, and the more inciden- 
 tal and indirect the presentation of ideas intended to 
 excite the emotions, the more successful it will be. 
 Men are generally suspicious of any dictation to theii 
 feelings, and accordingly set themselves in opposition 
 to any obvious attempt to arouse feeling. 
 
 (9) General Importance. Ideas move us accord- 
 ing to their importance. When multitudes are affected, 
 when great worth and dignity are involved, when the 
 interests of society are at stake, when useful schemes 
 of public improvement are presented, interest is pro- 
 portionally great. 
 
 (10) Connection with the Consequences. inter- 
 est reaches its highest development when the indi- 
 vidual sees himself to be involved. Appeals to self- 
 preservation, self-development, or enjoyment of ex- 
 istence, are certain to produce interest. Self is the 
 center of interest. Sympathy is but a reflected irtei- 
 est. The consequences to society may be very poteiit 
 in moving good men, but consequences to self are 
 efficacious in moving all men. Most social motives 
 may be made personal motives. Thus if a person be 
 
LAWS OF MIND. 59 
 
 touched vfittipUy at the sight of suffering, his relation 
 to the suffering may be ?xhibited in such a light as to 
 *,ouch the principle of self-preservation. As a general 
 rule, no idea is assimilated to the mind addressed so as 
 to be most effective, until it has been put in it 
 closest possible relation to the principles of self-love. 
 The nature of the idea may prevent its being carried 
 beyond the circle of sympathy, but the aim should be 
 at the core of human interest. 
 
 III. THE MODIFICATION OF EMOTION. 
 
 1. The Law of Change. 
 
 The emotions are the most complex part of mental 
 experience. One law, however, runs through the 
 whole emotional nature, the law of change. No 
 state of feeling is uninterruptedly persistent. Emo- 
 tion is subject to ceaseless ebb and flow, and its transi- 
 tions are often instantaneous. The same cause will 
 not sustain the same emotion for a great length of 
 time. Its duration may be prolonged only by an in- 
 creasing cause, like a climax, but even this means soon 
 fails by reaching its utmost. 
 
 2. Dominant States of Feeling. 
 
 Certain states of feeling, however, become habitual, 
 and dominate over those of less frequent occurrence. 
 In some men there is a frequent recurrence of the 
 [esthetic sentiments, in others of the moral sentiments, 
 in others of the selfish sentiments. These predominan 
 states of feeling give character to the mind, and men 
 become enthusiasts in art, in religion, and in self-ado- 
 
60 THE SCIENCE OF KHETORIC 
 
 ration. These established states of feeling arc the gov- 
 erning motives in life. To change them when deeply 
 rooted, is difficult, if not impossible. The more nat- 
 nral rhetorical use of them is, to treat them as laws o/ 
 action, and to address new ideas to them in such a man 
 ner as to deflect the course of action, without attempt- 
 ing to change the dominant feelings. One class oi 
 writers and speakers are specially called upon to modify 
 these permanent states. Ministers of the Gospel aim 
 to change the established sentiments as well as the con 
 victions of men. This most difficult task requires su 
 perior and peculiar qualifications. Khetoric alone is 
 here an inadequate help. Power must be sought from 
 more spiritual sources. 
 
 3. Temporary Emotions. 
 
 There are, however, certain temporary states of 
 feeling which may be modified, and whose modifica- 
 tion depends upon established rhetorical principles. 
 Fear, anger, gratitude, admiration, and their like, are 
 all capable of modification, as regards any given object. 
 The modes of modification are two. 
 
 (1) Allaying the Feelings. A feeling may be 
 
 allayed by the representation of the object in an as- 
 pect which does not tend to arouse the unfavorable 
 emotion. As soon as the aspect of the object exciting 
 the emotion is banished from the consciousness, and a 
 new aspect is presented tending to excite a different 
 emotion, the first emotion will be allayed. This is a 
 far more successful expedient than the attempt to sup- 
 press all emotion. Feeling, once excited, may be 
 readily changed to the most opposite extremes, as from 
 laughter to tears, but the absolute and instantaneous 
 
LAWS OF MINI). 61 
 
 suppression of any emotion is impossible. Like a flow- 
 ing river, it may be turned into new channels, but it 
 cannot be suddenly checked. A character in a story 
 may call forth the contempt of the reader by an un- 
 worthy act. This feeling of contempt may be allayed 
 by presenting a noble motive as the prompter of the 
 act, so that, although admiration may not be engen- 
 dered, the contempt may be neutralized'^ the nobility 
 of the motive. 
 
 (2) Diverting the Peelings. If the feeling can- 
 not be allayed, it may be diverted from the object 
 which called it forth. For example, a man is shown 
 to be guilty of an infamous deed, and excites our con- 
 demnation and disgust. It may not be easy or even 
 possible to transmute this feeling into one of a differ- 
 ent character. The remaining expedient is, to direct 
 this feeling against a different object, by showing that 
 another person has really planned and forwarded the 
 transaction, and that the accused is the dupe of an- 
 other's criminality. 
 
THE PARTICULAR LAWS OF MIND. 
 
 IN the preceding chapter we have considered the 
 universal principles of the human mind in its two 
 modes of action, thought and feeling. The laws of 
 mind would not be completely outlined, if we were to 
 neglect those particular principles which grow out of 
 the conditions of life. Age, position, education, busi- 
 ness, even climate and government, affect the thoughts 
 and feelings of men in ways with which the rhetorician 
 should be familiar. Men are so modified by their 
 circumstances, that they must be studied in their en- 
 vironment, in order to be understood and influenced. 
 
 A large portion of what, on general principles, 
 should be esteemed true eloquence, falls impotent to 
 the ground for want of special adaptation. The law- 
 yer, the preacher, and the lecturer must study mi- 
 nutely the habits of thought and modes of feeling of 
 the classes addressed. The purely literary man, who 
 writes for the world and for all time, may not attend 
 so closely to the modifications of human character, 
 but those who address a particular class should adapt 
 their ideas to its peculiar powers of reception and as- 
 similation. Wo can here present only three of the 
 most important causes of peculiarity (1) AGE, (2) EX- 
 PERIENCE, and (3) AFFILIATION. Others may be equal- 
 ly worthy of study. 
 
LAWS OF MIND. 63 
 
 SECTION 1 
 
 AGE. 
 
 Aristotle, in his " Rhetoric," devote* three chapters 
 to the habits and passions of men at different periods 
 of life. A practical difficulty in the treatment of such 
 a subject is the impossibility of fixing with exactness 
 the lines of demarcation between the different periods. 
 Life is not a chain formed of separate links, but a 
 stream which flows on without a break of its contin- 
 uity. A difficulty equally great is the wide diversity 
 of personal temperament. Dividing life into Youth, 
 Old Age, and Middle Age, Aristotle enumerates the 
 distinctive qualities of each. . 
 
 1. Youth. 
 
 (1) Passionat. The young are prompted by strong 
 desires, and are ready to dare all for their grati- 
 fication. Their fresh and vigorous life is impatient of 
 restraint, prone to change, and fastidious as to the 
 objects of desire. Their desires though strong are in- 
 constant, like the hunger and thirst of the sick. They 
 follow impulse rather than reason. Anger and pride 
 are dominant motives, and ambition leads them to 
 deeds of rashness, and spurs them with the desire of 
 victory rather than of gain, for they have known little 
 of want. 
 
 (2) Sanguine. They usually hope for the best, 
 *rom having had few disappointments, and believe 
 in the good, from having had little experience with 
 depravity. They are credulous from their instinctive 
 love of truth, and from having seldom been subject to 
 aerious deception. They expect much of the future, 
 
54: THE SCIENCE OF KHETORIC. 
 
 from never having known repulse. They live in hop 
 because they cannot dwell much in memory. Hence 
 they are subject to impositions from their extravagant 
 expectations. 
 
 (3) Spirited. They are spirited, for they have not 
 yet been humbled by defeat, and have not known 
 pressing circumstances. They, therefore, think more 
 of honor than of expediency, for they are governed by 
 the impulses of the. heart rather than by the calcula- 
 tions of the brain. 
 
 (4) Social. Their confidence in men and their ex- 
 uberance of spirit lead them to companionship, ami 
 they delight in the amenities of social intercourse. 
 They choose their companions from personal affinity, 
 not from social expediency. 
 
 (5) Mischievous. In their transgressions they 
 err on the side of mischief rather than of malice. 
 Their actions are often wanton, but seldom intention- 
 ally injurious. Repentance is easy, as the enor does 
 not proceed from established principles of action. 
 
 2. Old Age. 
 
 (1) Calculating, In almost every particular, the 
 old are the reverse of the young. Passion has lost 
 its power, and calculation has become the rule of life. 
 Caution marks every step. Impulse has given way to 
 reason. 
 
 (2) Desponding, They are slow to assert anything 
 or to receive any new doctrine, always qualifying witL 
 "perhaps" or "possibly." They are suspicious of 
 general statements, since experience has shown many 
 exceptions to general rules. They distrust men and 
 theories on the same ground. They are apprehensive 
 
LAWS OF MIKD. 65 
 
 of danger and difficulty from long experience of their 
 prevalence and unexpected approach. They live in 
 memory more than in hope. 
 
 (3) Humble, Disappointment and deception have 
 generally lowered their estimate of the world. The 
 loss of power tends to lower their former ideas of 
 life. They rely more upon careful calculation arid the 
 policy of expediency than upon the certain supremacy 
 of right and the victory of honor. 
 
 (4) Gentle. If the old are injurious it is not from 
 mischief, but from calculation. Yet they are seldom 
 injurious either in word or deed, having learned to 
 subordinate impulse to reason, and having perceived 
 the uselessness of retaliation. 
 
 3. Middle Age. 
 
 (1) Moderate. The prime of life presents the 
 golden mean between the two extremes of mental 
 character already sketched. Moderation, mental bal- 
 ance, deliberation joined with action are the qualities 
 of man at the middle period of life. Passion has been 
 modified by reason, without having deprived him of 
 enthusiasm and interest in the temporary ends of ex- 
 istence. Honor and expediency cooperate. Caution 
 and daring are blended. Neither the extravagance of 
 youth nor the parsimony of old age is predominant. 
 
 (2) Power. The middle period in life is that in 
 which the capa-city and desire for power are at their 
 neight. The diffidence of youth has departed, and 
 the weakness of old age has not supervened. Exercise 
 of the faculties has imparted vigor and precision to 
 their operations, and over-use has not impaired their 
 activity. 
 
06 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 Although subject to great individual modification, 
 these differences of disposition should be known and 
 remembered by the rhetorician, as they affect the 
 reception of new ideas. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 EXPERIENCE. 
 
 Another class of particular conditions which should 
 be studied by the rhetorician may be designated by the 
 general name Experience. This is meant to include 
 such personal preparation as education, occupation, 
 political privilege, and general familiarity with the 
 subject discussed. 
 
 1. The Nature of Experience. 
 
 A very frequent but absurd mistake is, to confound 
 experience with age, or some other non-essential but 
 usual concomitant of experience. Political wisdom is 
 often supposed to be associated with years, and a youth 
 of wide historical knowledge, familiar with the causes 
 and signs of national growth and decay, is supposed 
 to know less of government than an ignorant voter 
 of many years standing. Nothing can be more distinct 
 than age and experience. There is no necessary bond 
 of connection between them, though, it is true, they 
 are often associated. Experience in a particular de- 
 partment of knowledge depends upon the amount of 
 time and attention bestowed upon the subject with a 
 given amount of intelligence. The factors o! ex peri- 
 once are three : time, attention, intelligence. A neg- 
 lect to remember that experience is the product of 
 these three factors often leads to a fatal misapprehen- 
 sion of individual capacity. 
 
LAWS OF MIND. 67 
 
 2. General and Specific Experiences. 
 
 Another prevalent error is the confounding of a 
 general and a particular experience. A man may have 
 a long experimental knowledge of religion without the 
 ahility to reason about even the fundamental doctrines 
 of his faith. His experience may have been in the 
 practice of religious precepts, whereas the experience 
 required is in the discussion of doctrinal truths. For 
 this special purpose a practical knowledge of religion 
 would be an inadequate preparation. Whately cites 
 an instance of a grain merchant in Holland who had 
 spent a large part of his life dealing in corn, but who 
 had never seen it growing in the field. His genera, 
 experience with corn was extensive, but his opinion 
 would be valueless with reference to the best modes OL 
 producing it. 
 
 3. Inferred Experience. 
 
 Another mistake is often made by persons who sup- 
 pose their experience to extend farther than it does, 
 and this error often needs to be pointed out before 
 their opinions can be changed. It consists in regard- 
 ing the causes as coming within the scope of experi- 
 ence, when only certain effects have been perceived. 
 If a person were to take a medicine and soon afterward 
 were to recover from his disease, he would possibly be- 
 lieve himself to have experimental knowledge that he 
 was cured by that remedy. This would, however, im 
 ply a tracing of causes and effects which is not always 
 possible. He might infer that the remedy effected the 
 cmre, but experience would justify him in affirming only 
 that he took the medicine, and the disease was cured. 
 The connection between the taking of the remedy and 
 
68 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 the cure is one of inference, and not of experience, 
 since other causes might have produced the effect. In 
 offering to the mind a new theory to account for facts 
 of experience, it will often be necessary to show that 
 what has been taken for experience is not experience 
 but inference. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 AFFILIATION. 
 
 ... Relation of the Speaker to his Audience. 
 
 Men possess different degrees of influence according 
 to their relations with those addressed. Aristotle has 
 mentioned three essentials to one who would persuade 
 his fellows : (1) good sense; (2) goodwill; and (3) 
 good principles. 
 
 (1) Good Sense, Men are willingly led by those in 
 whose judgment they have full confidence. A reputa- 
 tion for good sense is, therefore, of value to one who 
 would produce mental changes in another. The ma- 
 jority of men esteem others for their good sense in pro- 
 portion as they hold similar views. It is of great prac- 
 tical importance, therefore, to agree as far as possible 
 with those whom we would influence. Happily there 
 are many facts and doctrines upon which all men agree. 
 An allusion to some of these points of agreement brings 
 the speaker into a closer relation of influence than if, 
 these being kept out of view, nothing but differences 
 should be advanced. 
 
 (2) Good Will. If one were possessed of good 
 sense and good principles, it would seem as if good 
 will would scarcely need to be added, since ability 
 would insure a clear apprehension of truth, and in teg 
 
LAWS OF MIXD. 6V 
 
 rity would lead one to a candid statement of convic 
 tians. But; while one might on these grounds be sup- 
 posed to have at heart the besb interests of those ad- 
 dressed as he viewed them, if he were hostile to theii 
 cherished opinions., he would have comparatively little 
 influence with the prepossessed. Hence Aristotle had 
 good reason for mentioning this quality. 
 
 (3) Good Principle. A character for good sense 
 and good will might seem sufficient qualification for a 
 speaker or writer, since the former quality would imply 
 the ability and the latter the disposition to give the 
 best advice, without reference to moral principle. 
 Aristotle maintains that a reputation for integrity is 
 equally necessary, for, although a man cannot be want- 
 ing in good will toward himself, yet able men often act 
 absurdly in their own affairs, being so blinded by pas- 
 sion as to sacrifice the expedient for the agreeable. 
 Such men are not likely to be better counselors of 
 others than of themselves. 
 
 2. Party Spirit. 
 
 Many of the affiliations of life, such as family feel- 
 ing, patriotism, religious belief, political partiality, and 
 the various forms of caste, may be summed up under 
 the general name party spirit. Among the means of 
 winning or moving men, no one is more potent. It 
 may be noticed in some of its special relations. 
 
 (1) As a Motive. Scarcely any other motive is so 
 potent when it is skillfully presented, and yet it is one 
 from which few avowedly act. Its gratification affords 
 a high degree of pleasure, and its defeat is intensely 
 humiliating. While it often leads to violence and the 
 most absurd conduct, it is the esprit de coiys without 
 
70 THE SCIENCE OF RHETOBIC. 
 
 which there could be no unity of action in the organi- 
 zations of men. 
 
 (2) As a Means of Self-commendation. When 
 indirectly appealed to, it is an almost infallible means 
 of self-commendation. To belong to the same church, 
 political party, or secret society, is with many men, a 
 sign of intelligence, good will and integrity. Hence 
 the speaker or writer who represents himself as belong- 
 ing to a certain order of men at once gains for himself 
 the credit or discredit attaching to that order in the 
 estimation of those addressed. A speaker cannot say 
 without embarrassment, "I am an honest and intelli- 
 gent man ;" but he may say without the slightest in- 
 delicacy, "lamaKepublican," or " I am a Democrat." 
 Such a statement often secures for a speaker the sym- 
 pathetic attention of his audience, and banishes at once 
 all suspicion. 
 
 (3) Method of Counteracting. It is often neces- 
 sary to oppose and change men's party attachments. 
 This process is very difficult. It will be more likely to 
 succeed if the speaker give full credit for any correct 
 doctrines held by those whom he would change, affirm 
 his confidence in their good intentions, present as 
 many points of agreement as possible, and finally show 
 that through too close attention to some truths they 
 have lost sight of others which change the whole case. 
 Any display of hostility, criminations, or charges of 
 stupidity, will only confirm men in their previous 
 views. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 LAWS OF IDEA 
 
BOOK II. LAWS OF IDEA. 
 1. Kinds of Ideas. 
 
 A second class of conditions to be studied by the 
 rhetorician are determined by the nature of the idea to 
 be communicated. All our ideas may be distributed 
 under two heads : (1) ideas of individual objects ; and 
 (2) general notions. 
 
 (1) Individual Objects. Our first knowledge i& 
 of individuals particular trees, particular flowers, 
 particular men. These individual ideas are presented 
 to us in two ways. We know some objects as siimilta 
 neous wholes, whose parts are co-existent ; as a rose, a 
 landscape, a house. Other ideas are successive wholes, 
 whose parts do not co-exist, but follow one another in 
 time ; a storm, a shipwreck, a journey. In other words, 
 some of our ideas relate to objects in space, others to 
 events in time. 
 
 (2) General Notions. By abstraction .and general 
 ization we derive general notions from particular ideas 
 Thus we are able to think of house, animal, mountain, 
 without thinking of any particular object. Such a 
 notion is expressed by a common term, which applies 
 equally well to any individual of the class. One gen- 
 eral notion may be affirmed of another, as when we 
 predicate whiteness of an animal, and say, The animal 
 is ivhite. This act is a judgment, and is expressed by 
 a proposition 
 
 ^ 2. Divisions of this Subject. 
 
 All our ideas may be referred to one of these four 
 classes. If then we discover the laws of these four 
 4 
 
74 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 c-lementary forms of discourse, we shall cover the whole 
 ground of the conditions of communication depending 
 upon the nature of the idea. These four classes of 
 ideas give rise to four different processes of communi- 
 cation : 
 
 (1) The parts of a simultaneous whole are presented 
 to the mind hy Description. 
 
 (2) The parts of a successive whole are presented to 
 the mind by Narration. 
 
 (3) A general notion is unfolded to the mind by 
 Exposition. 
 
 (4) A proposition is confirmed to the mind by 
 Argumentation. 
 
DESCRIPTION. 
 
 1. Describable Objects. 
 
 Complex objects only are capable of description* 
 A simple object, as for instance the color blue, cannot 
 be described. We may give instances of it, but one 
 who had never seen any blue object could never learn 
 from description what blue is. In order that anything 
 may be capable of description, it must consist of parts 
 which may be mentioned, and whose relations may be 
 shown. 
 
 2. General Laws of Description. 
 
 There are some general qualities which every de- 
 scription should possess. 
 
 (1) The Law of Purpose. Whenever we describe 
 anything, we do so with a definite end in view. Let 
 the subject be the United States. We might describe 
 the United States for a geographical purpose, to inform 
 the mind how the parts of the country are related in 
 direction and distance ; for an antiquarian purpose, to 
 portray the condition of aboriginal tribes ; for a geo- 
 logical purpose, to illustrate the operation of physical 
 forces ; for a political purpose, to demonstrate the ne- 
 cessity of national unity in so vast a country. Our 
 selection of circumstances should be governed entirely 
 by the purpose of the description. 
 
 (2) The Law of Unity. The mere enumeration of 
 
76 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 qualities is not sufficient for a perfect description. 
 There must be coherence between the parts enumera- 
 ted, n mutual dependence and correlation. Hence the 
 necessity of proceeding according to some definite plan. 
 (3) The Law of Completeness. It is necessary that 
 nothing important to the purpose be left out of the list 
 of qualities. It is not to be supposed that all the con- 
 stituents of an object must be mentioned. The pur- 
 pose regulates this. A description of the United 
 States which should leave out the great rivers might 
 be proper for some purposes, but for industrial pur- 
 poses such a description would be worthless. 
 
 . (4) The Law of Brevity. The memory is soon 
 overpowered by details. Hence a description should 
 avoid all useless minutiae, and even leading character- 
 istics which are irrelevant to the purpose. Vivacity is 
 gained by this elimination, and the attention is more 
 easily retained. 
 
 3. Kinds of Description. 
 
 It will be convenient to distinguish three kinds of 
 description, which, from their peculiarities, should be 
 treated separately. They are description of (1) OBJECTS 
 
 OF SENSE ; (2) MENTAL STATES ; (3) CHARACTERS. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 OBJECTS OF SENSE. 
 1. Purpose. 
 
 (1) Point of View. The purpose for which we de- 
 scribe an object should determine our point of view. 
 This should be settled in the beginning. A description 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 77 
 
 v 
 
 of the United States for a class in geography might 
 make the actual position of the class the point of view, 
 and proceed outward in straight lines or concentric 
 circles. If we were describing the peculiarities of the 
 country to a foreigner, we might select his entrance 
 into an American harbor as the point of view, and 
 then conduct him into the interior and across the 
 continent. The point of view should not be shifted 
 without warning. 
 
 (2) Division. Complex objects require systematic 
 division, in order to be understood as a whole. The 
 kind of division depends upon the purpose, taken in 
 connection with the character of the object. A de- 
 scription of the earth's surface for a political purpose, 
 divides according to national boundaries ; for a meteor- 
 ological purpose, according to zones ; for a purely geo- 
 graphical purpose, according to continents. 
 
 2 Unity. 
 
 (1) Order. Although a proper division is helpful 
 TO unity as well a$ important in its relation to purpose, 
 the order in wl/ich the parts are considered is still 
 more essential. / The order will depend also upon the 
 purpose of the description, but must be chosen chiefly 
 with regard to unity. If a central and causative prin- 
 ciple can be found, it will assist unity to follow the 
 operation of this. Thus, in describing the climates of 
 the earth, it would be best to follow the apparent 
 movements of the sun, beginning at the equator. An- 
 other means of securing unity is to follow the order of 
 actual perception. In describing a distant mountain, 
 for instance, unity would be promoted by mentioning 
 the various phases of its appearance in the order in 
 
78 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 which they would occur to one approaching the 
 mountain. 
 
 (2) Fitness. It is conducive to unity to hold con- 
 stantly in mind the exact purpose of the description, 
 as particulars are suggested, and to decide upon their 
 fitness for the end in view. 
 
 3. Completeness. 
 
 (1) Location. One of the common violations of 
 the law of completeness is the omission to fix the place 
 of the object described. A description of any thing 
 ought to be introduced by information about the place 
 where it is found. This is especially the case when 
 the object is local. 
 
 (2) Inner Qualities. A description of an animal 
 would be imperfect without some account of its in- 
 stincts and habits. The mere external form and size 
 are the least interesting facts with regard to animals. 
 Their sagacity, their modes of life, and their disposi- 
 tion toward man are essential to any complete account 
 of them. 
 
 (3) Time. Every thing in nature is subject to 
 change. A description is, therefore, unsatisfactory 
 unless the time of the observation be given. We should 
 know whether a plant or animal was young or old when 
 the observer saw it. Even the posture, the time of 
 day, the antecedent circumstances may be important. 
 Travelers have variously described the chameleon, for 
 its hue depends upon its own mood, the color of the 
 objects about it, and even the temperature. In a 
 certain sense all nature shares the qualities of this 
 reptile. 
 
 (4) Magnitude. Misconception is likely to result 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 79 
 
 fron. a failure to note the magnitude of an object. 
 When the size is unknown from obvious relations, it 
 should always be in some way stated. 
 
 4. Brevity. 
 
 (1) Comparisons. Among the various means of 
 complying with the law of brevity, comparison is use- 
 ful. A happy simile or metaphor often presents a 
 somewhat complex object in a single word. Novel 
 views of familiar objects are thus brought to mind, and 
 by stimulating the attention are helpful to the descrip- 
 tion. An American poet thus describes the sea- 
 shore : 
 
 " The curved strand 
 Of cool gray sand 
 Lies like a sickle by the sea." 
 
 (2) Effects. Another means of shortening the de- 
 scription is to describe the effect upon the mind, and 
 leave the fancy to fill out the picture. 
 
 (3) Contrast. Some objects may be described by 
 contrasting them with well known opposites. This is 
 generally productive of brevity, but care is necessary 
 to avoid obscurity. We cannot always determine what 
 an object is like from a knowledge of what it is not 
 like. 
 
 (4) Fixed Classes- Many objects may be suffi- 
 ciently described by being referred to certain fixed 
 classes. The botanist, for example, needs only tlir 
 genus and species of a plant in order to know its ch.-tr 
 acter. Only the leading characteristics of a mini" 1 
 are necessary to describe it for a mineralogist. 
 however, is properly classification, rather than descrip- 
 tion in its common sense. 
 
80 THE SCIEKCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 MENTAL STATES. 
 
 In the strictest sense mental states cannot be de- 
 scribed. Unless similar states have been experienced 
 by the mind addressed, they can .be communicated only 
 by indirect means, and even then with doubtful pre- 
 cision. The modes of communicating states of mind 
 are two : (1) by the mental vocabulary ; and (2) by va- 
 rious associations. In the expression " mental states" 
 we include only the subjective modes of consciousness, 
 and not the consciousness of external objects. 
 
 1. The Mental Vocabulary. 
 
 The words used to designate states of feeling and 
 the various powers of the mind are not in any true 
 sense descriptive. They are symbolical signs associated 
 with certain phenomena which they serve rudely to in- 
 dicate. The chances of mistake in their interpretation 
 are, therefore, very great. Hence the difficulty and 
 seeming vagueness of metaphysical systems. Several 
 peculiarities of the mental vocabulary need special 
 attention. 
 
 (1) Metaphorical Character. All the radical ele- 
 ments of language are significant of jiurely physical 
 substances, qualities, acts, and relations. Such words 
 .as perception) imagination and feeling are derived from 
 radicals primarily significant of material things. If. 
 we forget the metaphorical character of all higher 
 speech, we shall be continually led into the error of 
 supposing that there is an essential likeness between 
 mental processes and physical acts. That there is an 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 81 
 
 analogy there can be no doubt, and in some instances, 
 possibly, a direct resemblance. But we are not at 
 liberty to suppose that mental and physical phe- 
 nomena correspond throughout. 
 
 (2) Indefiniteness, From this want of correspond- 
 ence between internal states and external phenomena, 
 the language of the mind is often indefinite. When 
 we speak of a mountain, a river, or a tree, distinct 
 notions rise in the mind ; but when we speak of love, 
 joy, anger, and other states of feeling, an apprehension 
 of what is meant implies a personal experience of these 
 states. The indefiniteness of language is increased by 
 the individual modification to which all these states are 
 subject. Thus love may mean widely different things 
 to different persons, according to their temperament 
 and extent of experience. Joy, too, may be either a 
 calm, tranquil quiescence, or a tumultuous delight. 
 Anger may mean to one a petty irritation, to another, 
 a righteous indignation in which the whole moral 
 nature is profoundly agitated. 
 
 (3) Subjective Result, The effect of language de- 
 scriptive of the feelings upon the mind addressed, 
 therefore, depends upon an infinite number of incal- 
 culable circumstances. The attempt to communicate 
 the feelings and other complex mental states by the 
 ordinary vocabulary of the mind, is almost certain to 
 prove unsuccessful. The simpler and more common 
 states of feeling may be thus reproduced in another or 
 tolerably well suggested by the use of their proper 
 names ; but as soon as the phenomenon becomes ex- 
 ceptional, as in the finer shades of emotion, the exact 
 communication of it in this way becomes almost im 
 possible. 
 
 4* 
 
82 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 2. Various Associations. 
 
 What cannot be done successfully by the ordinary 
 vocabulary may often be easily accomplished by vari- 
 ous concomitants-. Some of these may be noticed. 
 
 (1) External Expression, There is a natural lan- 
 guage of the body which is universal among men, and 
 founded on laws of muscular and nervous action. The 
 leading emotions of the mind have their characteristic 
 modes of expression in the tones of the voice, the color 
 of the face, and the gesticulations of the body. Love, 
 joy, anger, pain, and pleasure, have each an external 
 sign which is seldom mistaken. In describing the 
 feelings, this language may be joined with the proper 
 mental vocabulary to enforce expression. A descrip- 
 tion of the external accompaniment of an emotion is 
 often the best possible description of the emotion 
 itself. 
 
 (2) Actions. Closely allied to the bodily expres- 
 sion, is the conduct produced by mental states. The 
 habits of men are regulated by their feelings. The 
 worship of art or literature springs from a devotion of 
 soul which none but devotees can fully comprehend by 
 any direct description ; but aliform some notion of the 
 intensity of this feeling when the humiliation, pain, 
 and depression endured for its sake are minutely do- 
 scribed. In one of his tales, Crabbe very successfully 
 describes the state of an unfortunate girl by naming 
 ner favorite occupations. The question, how must 
 one feel to select these pursuits? leads the inquirer 
 with great exactness to the proper state of mind. 
 
 (3) Surroundings. The surroundings have much 
 to do with our feelings. We are impressed by the 
 
LAWS OF IDEA, 81 
 
 scenery, the companionship, and the probable occur- 
 rences. It may, therefore, assist the communication 
 of a feeling, to describe the circumstances in which it 
 was produced, and then more directly state the char- 
 acter of the feeling. The external features of the oc- 
 casion will thus assist the interpretation of what might 
 otherwise be obscure. 
 
 (4) Causes. Since human nature is governed by 
 general laws, men of like dispositions are apt to feel 
 the same from the same causes? Very often the most 
 satisfactory way to communicate an emotion is to state 
 the causes of it. When the emotion is unusually com- 
 plex, this is often the only way in which the feeling 
 can be communicated. The various dispositions of 
 men render this mode somewhat uncertain, since the 
 same causes produce different effects in different per- 
 sons. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 CHARACTER. 
 
 The character of men is generally reflected in & 
 narrative of their lives, but, considered as a complete 
 growth, character may be described. Several peculiar- 
 ities belong to the description of character. Some of 
 these may be mentioned. 
 
 1. Individuality. 
 
 Only marked characters are worth describing. The 
 distinctive traits of a man are necessary to a successful 
 description. Those shared in common with most men 
 of the same class may be sufficiently indicated by re- 
 ferring the character to that class. The power to 
 
b 
 
 84 THE SCIENCE OF BHETORIC. 
 
 seize upon what is purely individual is the secret of all 
 great character painting. It was possessed pre-emi- 
 nently by Shakespeare. His female characters are 
 very numerous, and generally among the most exquisite 
 creations in literature. "And these Shakespearian 
 women," says Whipple, " though all radiations from 
 one great ideal of womanhood, are at the same time in- 
 tensely individualized. Each has a separate soul, and 
 the processes of intellect as well as emotions are differ- 
 ent in each." * 
 
 2. Inward Principles. 
 
 Specific acts are important only as suggestive of 
 internal principles. These make up the character. 
 External acts are helpful to the portraiture of charac- 
 ter, but this carries us beyond the region of mere de- 
 scription, and invades the territory of narration, in 
 which the growth of character is exhibited. The pro- 
 cess of investigating character should be inductive. 
 From isolated manifestations we infer the actuating 
 motives, and thus arrive at the dominant qualities of 
 mind and heart. The description of character should 
 be deductive. The ruling principles should be stated 
 first, and exemplified if necessary by illustrative in- 
 stances. Thus every item will have the force of a 
 confirmation, instead of being a mere datum from 
 which to infer the principle. 
 
 3. Concrete Form. 
 
 No mere sum of abstractions, however, can truth- 
 fully represent a character. " A man is not an abstract 
 
 * The Literature of the Age of Elizabeth. 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 85 
 
 passion/' says Taine. " He stamps the vices and vir- 
 tues which he possesses with his individual mark 
 These vices and virtues receive, on entering into him, 
 a bent and form which they hare not in others. No 
 one is unmixed sensuality. Take a thousand sensual- 
 ists, and you will find a thousand different modes of 
 sensuality; for there are a thousand paths, a thousand 
 circumstances and degrees in sensuality." * Portrait- 
 ures of men which represent them as incarnations of a 
 single vice or virtue are evidently untrue. ' No man is 
 without redeeming virtues, and no man is absolutely free 
 from faults or inconsistencies. Even an ideal character 
 should not be perfect, if designed to represent any 
 possible human being. 
 
 4. Environment. 
 
 A character is a product, and must be studied 
 in its environment. Apart from his circumstances 
 in life, a man excites little genuine interest. Vir 
 tues and vices are wonderful or common -place, ac- 
 cording to the soil in which they grow. Piety is 
 an essential and natural element in the life of a great 
 divine, and hence would be much more striking in the 
 life of a common sailor. Vices which would seem 
 natural to the seaman would seem to be foul blots upon 
 the character of the divine. Hence consistency re- 
 quires that character be described in connection with 
 its atmosphere. 
 
 * English Literature, Vol. L 
 
NARRATION, 
 
 NARRATION is the presentation to the mind of the 
 t m v ts of a successive whole. Its theme is a series of 
 related events occurring in time. Language, being it- 
 self related to time as a succession of signs, is particu- 
 larly adapted to narration. This form of discourse 
 presents three principal problems : (1) the SELECTION 
 
 OF SUITABLE CIRCUMSTANCES ; (2) the REPRESENTA- 
 TION OF EVENTS IN THEIR PROPER SEQUENCE ; and (3) 
 the REPRESENTATION OF SYNCHRONISTIC EVENTS SO 
 
 AS TO SHOW THEIR TRUE RELATIONS. These problems 
 will be discussed in the following sections. No dis- 
 tinction is necessary between real and invented events, 
 since the aim of fiction is to counterfeit reality. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 THE SELECTION OF CIRCUMSTANCES 
 1. Purpose. 
 
 The selection of circumstances depends greatly on 
 the purpose for which a narrative is composed. We 
 may give special attention to the temporal element, 
 and so produce mere annals or chronicles; we may 
 relate the changes to which any thing has been sub- 
 jected, and so narrate its history ; we may explain the 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 8? 
 
 causes which have been operative in effecting those 
 changes, and so construct & philosophical history. We 
 may write the history of a country, England for ex- 
 ample, to illustrate the progress of literature, science, 
 or civil institutions. In all these cases, our purpose 
 must govern our selection of circumstances from the 
 great mass of facts. The same law of purpose is of 
 equal authority, no matter what the character of the 
 narrative, whether a nation's history, or a short 
 anecdote. 
 
 2. Unity. 
 
 We should be influenced in the selection of materials 
 oy the law of unity. This requires that all the elements 
 of a narrative be parts of a great whole, and organically 
 related with one another. The introduction of collat- 
 eral circumstances having no bearing upon the main 
 conception is a violation of this law. Loose narrators 
 are prone to digress into episode, and thus mar the ef- 
 fect of their narrative. Writers of fiction who are paid 
 for the quantity of their work are specially in danger 
 of this gross fault. In following the fortunes of a hero, 
 we do not need to be told of the personal habits of his 
 distant relatives. This prohibition of unrelated details 
 ought not to be understood as a condemnation of ap- 
 propriate details on the ground of their individual in^ 
 significance. The minutest particulars, if they have a 
 direct bearing, are often the most significant and indis- 
 pensable. 
 
 3. Completeness. 
 
 - Sufficient fullness to maintain the interest and to 
 explain important occurrences, is necessary to a suc- 
 cessful narrative. Few minds are interested in mere 
 
88 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 compends and abstracts. Specific details fix the atten- 
 tion and fasten events ir. the memory. A narrative has 
 an artificial appearance if each event be not explained 
 by the preceding events. The omission of details ia 
 therefore injurious to the effect, when they are vitally 
 connected with the succession of incidents. No history 
 is complete without occasional references to contempo- 
 raneous facts in other departments. A history of 
 literature which should take no notice of those social 
 and political revolutions which produce great men and 
 generate epoch-making ideas, would be unworthy of 
 being called a history. 
 
 4. Brevity. 
 
 Prolixity is the bane ol effective narrative. Novels 
 in two or three thick volumes, recounting the insipid 
 adventures of some common-place personage, are the 
 most tedious of literary creations. Histories which 
 spin out the thread of events to undue length, though 
 often praised and quoted, are seldom consecutively 
 read. The memory can retain only a limited number 
 of details, and narratives constructed without refer- 
 ence to the natural limits of this faculty, are almost 
 sure to pay the penalty of dullness. Vivacity, also, as 
 in description, is secured by confining the narrative to 
 what is essential. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 THE SEQUENCE OF EVENTS. 
 
 1. Time. 
 
 It is important to a narrative that its incidents bo 
 related in the chronological order in which they occur. 
 
LAWS OP IDEA. 89 
 
 This is usually the philosophical order, for events arc 
 not mere isolated links, but form part of an endless 
 chain of antecedents and consequents, each of which id 
 a cause of its consequent, and an effect of its antece- 
 dent. A narrator rises in dignity in proportion as lie 
 becomes a philosopher, and explains the events ho 
 narrates. This requires a constant reference to the 
 actual sequence of events in time. Chronology and 
 geography have been aptly called the two eyes of his- 
 tory. Chronology, by a different metaphor, has been 
 called the latitude and longitude of narrative. The 
 reader misses a marginal chronology in Gibbon's great 
 history. 
 
 2. Reasons for Violating the Order of Time*. 
 
 Sometimes it may be desirable to violate the actual 
 order of events for a special reason. Thus Virgil, in 
 the "jEneid," first describes the storm which wrecked 
 the fleet of his hero, and threw him upon the African 
 coast, and then causes him to relate to Queen Dido his 
 own previous adventures. Homer had employed a 
 similar plan in the "Odyssey," where Odysseus is re- 
 presented as recounting his misfortunes to the Phaeacian 
 court. In these cases the violation of the natural order 
 is for the obvious purpose of allowing the hero to add 
 the charm of personal narration to the story of his 
 wanderings. George Eliot has used a similar inver- 
 sion for a different purpose. In " Daniel Deronda," 
 the heroine is introduced to the reader as a desperate 
 pleasure-seeker in a gambling scene. The remainder 
 of the story is to a great extent occupied with a retro- 
 spective history of her life. The obvious design of the 
 inversion is to absorb the reader's attention and inter- 
 
90 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 cst in the chain of events which brought Gwendolen 
 Harleth to the gaming table. 
 
 3. Retrospective References. 
 
 A backward reference may be necessary in placing 
 the true order of events before the mind. Macaulay, 
 in his " History of England," introduces his account 
 of the period abou\, rdiich he specially writes with a 
 prefatory summary of English history from the Roman 
 invasion. Thus his readers are prepared to place the 
 events which make up the history in their proper 
 relations with their antecedents. A plan somewhat 
 different from this is, to describe a recent or existing 
 state of affairs, and then to point out the causes which 
 have produced it. An acquaintance with present facts 
 interests us in their antecedents. In his "Elements 
 of Geology," Sir Charles Lyell has first shown what is 
 to be accounted for, and then proceeds to narrate the 
 geological history of previous ages, by which he ac- 
 counts for the present state of the globe. 
 
 4. Probability. 
 
 Probability ought to be attended to in a narrative. 
 It depends greatly upon the order of events whether or 
 not they seem probable. Writers are most in danger 
 of making their story improbable when there are many 
 concurrent events having a causal relation, but which 
 are not brought into one view. This leads us to the 
 topic of the next section, in which the best modes oi 
 surmounting this obstacle will be pointed out. 
 
LAWS OF IDBA. 91 
 
 SECTION III. 
 SYNCHRONISM OF EVENTS. 
 
 1. Kinds of Concurrence. 
 
 The chief difficulties of narration arise when con- 
 curring streams of events have to be exhibited as con- 
 temporaneous in order to show their actual relations. 
 This concurrence is of several kinds. 
 
 (1) Plurality of Departments. The life of a 
 nation is complex. One department acts upon another, 
 and is acted upon by other departments. Military, 
 political, social, literary, and scientific life all flow on 
 together, and their currents ever mingle and impart 
 color to one another. The highest genius is requisite 
 to exhibit all these various modes of progress in a true 
 panoramic view. 
 
 (2) Contending Parties. The historian ought to 
 rise above the advocate, and, when there are two sides, 
 he is under obligation to represent both. In depicting 
 any kind of conflict, where the movements of both 
 sides are to be narrated, there is great danger of con- 
 fusion from a frequent shifting of the point of view. 
 Few historians have the advantage of Kinglake at the 
 Alma, where, as an eye-witness, he retains his point oi 
 view throughout the conflict. Those who compile from 
 the accounts of many witnesses are in danger of sacri- 
 ficing unity, and of blurring the whole picture. 
 
 (3) Principal and Subordinate Actions. In a 
 
 biography, or the narration of a campaign or voyage, 
 the events are not all of the same rank. Some are 
 principal, others merely subordinate. These must be 
 
02 THE SCIENCE OP KIIKTOIMC. 
 
 carefully distinguished, and prominence must be given 
 to the principal events, while the minor incidents mus* 
 oe duly subordinated. 
 
 (4) Different Countries. The history of some 
 countries, Greece for example, is the history of a single 
 race, but at the same time consists of a plurality of 
 histories. Sparta, Athens, and Thebes live an inde- 
 pendent life. The historian of Greece must carry along 
 the story of all these states, with their numerous colo- 
 nies, so as to maintain unity, and at the same time to 
 give to each state its separate place in the narrative. 
 The difficulty is increased when the historian attempts 
 to narrate the concurrent progress of states less inti- 
 mately connected, as in a history of Europe or of the 
 world. Here the highest genius is necessary to success. 
 An interesting universal history is more difficult than 
 an epic poem, and it may be said that the problem oi 
 its production remains unsolved. 
 
 2. Means of Expressing Synchronism. 
 
 The expedients resorted to in representing contem- 
 poraneous events are of great practical value, yet they 
 leave many things for genius to solve in its own mys- 
 terious way. Macaulay was gifted, perhaps beyond all 
 other men, with the power of seeing periods of history as 
 organic wholes, and has succeeded in presenting them 
 as such. Taine thus speaks of this gift : "So many 
 accumulated events form with him not a total, but a 
 whole. Explanations, accounts, dissertations, anec- 
 dotes, illustrations, comparisons, allusions to modern 
 events, everything is connected in his book. It is 
 because everything is connected in his mind. He 
 had a most lively consciousness of causes ; and causes 
 
LJLWS OF IDEA. 93 
 
 nnite facts. By them scattered events are assembled 
 into a single event ; they unite them because they pro- 
 duce them, and the historian who seeks them all out, 
 cannot fail to perceive or to feel the unity which is their 
 effect."* 
 
 Of the ordinary means of overcoming the difficul- 
 ties of synchronism,, we may mention the following : 
 
 (1) Sensible Forms. Charts in the form of trees, 
 streams, and other physical objects, may be helpful in 
 fixing the relations of periods in the mind. In written 
 history they are of very great service, but even in 
 speaking they may often be employed. Here the met- 
 aphor or simile takes the place of the actual chart. 
 For example, in tracing the history of the Indo-Eu- 
 ropean family, the migrations of that race may be rep- 
 resented under the figure of seven streams diverging 
 from a common fountain, and, although each is fol- 
 lowed separately, the mind will readily perceive that 
 the others are flowing simultaneously, and this may 
 be indicated by concentric circles intersecting the 
 streams and representing centuries. 
 
 (2) Analysis. A perspicuous division into chapters 
 and sections assists the mind in associating synchronistic 
 events. Hence every complicated narrative should be 
 so divided as to suggest the parallel occurrences. The 
 division of history according to reigns is not so philo- 
 sophical as a division according to great historic move- 
 ments. In composing the biography of a great man, 
 it would be absurd to divide his life according to the 
 contemporary presidents. In every life, individual or 
 national, there are causes which impel the man or the 
 nation in certain different directions. These are the 
 
 * English Literature, Vol. III. 
 
94 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 true outlines of analysis, and give rise to distinct 
 epochs. 
 
 (3) Summary. A condensed summary of a pe- 
 riod may be useful in setting events necessarily sepa- 
 rated in the progress of the narrative in their proper 
 chronological relations. Such abridgments serve the 
 same purpose as maps after an observation of the 
 ground. They correct the erroneous impressions re- 
 sulting from detached views. The proper place for a 
 summary depends upon circumstances. If interest in 
 the plot will be diminished by a revelation of it, the 
 summary ought not to be presented in the introduction. 
 If, however, by coming first it will abridge the process 
 of arrangement in the mind of the reader, it may be 
 placed at the beginning, as a topographical map is 
 spread out before a campaign. Usually the summary 
 is retrospective. Coming after the detailed narrative, 
 it serves to straighten the entangled threads of the 
 story. 
 
EXPOSITION. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 EXPOSITION" consists in such an analysis of a gen- 
 eral term as will make clear to the mind the general 
 notion of which it is the sign. By " general term " is 
 meant a word indicating a general notion. By " gen- 
 eral notion " is meant a mode of thought in which cer- 
 tain attributes are taken as belonging to certain objects, 
 and as uniting them in one class. Thus "animal",. 
 includes the attributes "organized," "sentient," etc., 
 and is applicable to such objects as "men," "horses, 
 "dogs," etc., which make up the class "animal" by 
 possessing the attributes " organized" " sentient," etc., 
 in common. A general term is distinguished from a 
 singular term, such as Rome, Julius Ccesar, the Nile, 
 indicating a single object. 
 
 2, Forms of Exposition. 
 
 Exposition assumes two forms : (1) Exposition of 
 the notion in itself ; and (2) exposition of the notion 
 in its relation to other notions. In either of these 
 ^orms of exposition, we niay have single terms, or 
 terms united in propositions. In order to avoid use- 
 less repetition, it may be stated that the exposition of 
 the terms of a proposition is an exposition of the prop- 
 
06 THE SCIENCE OF JIHETOKIC. 
 
 pos/rion itself. Thus in the proposition, "Free insti- 
 fcuti^ns are promotive of happiness," an exposition of 
 the subject and the predicate would be an exposition 
 of the whole proposition. The copula "are" requires 
 no exposition. Any doubt with reference to the cop- 
 ula, is not a doubt as to the meaning, but as to the 
 truth of the proposition. The truth of a proposition 
 must be established by argument, which takes for 
 granted the meaning of the terms, and is occupied 
 with the negative or affirmative quality of the copula. 
 Exposition elucidates the meaning of "free institu- 
 tions" and "promotive of happiness; and here its 
 office ends. Argumentation then decides whether 
 the copula should be "are" or " are-not." 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 EXPOSITION OF THE NOTION IN 
 ITSELF. 
 
 1. Comprehension and Extension. 
 
 A general notion, or conception of a class, includes 
 certain attributes and certain objects to which the at- 
 tributes belong. For example, the word man includes 
 such attributes as rationality, intellectuality, voluntary 
 power, etc., and also includes all the individual beings 
 known to us as men. Man is also an animal, but this 
 term includes, a greater number of objects than the 
 word man, for it embraces horses, dogs, etc. -But 
 these other animals do not possess rationality or Intel- 
 lectualitfa The class "animal" excludes common att 
 tributes in proportion as it- includes more objects. V r c 
 have, then, in a general notion, two kinds of quantity : 
 (1) comprehension, which is made up of the diflVivn' 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 97 
 
 it-tributes included in the notion ; and (2) .extension 
 which is made up of those objects which are included 
 in the general notion. These two, comprehension and 
 extension, are in an inverse ratio to each other. As \ve 
 pass from " man "to " animal " the extension increases, 
 but the comprehension diminishes ; the objects included 
 are more numerous, the attributes implied are less nu- 
 merous. 
 
 2. Nature of a Definition. 
 
 The exposition of the comprehension of a notion is 
 its logical definition. Thus, in the notion man there 
 are two constituent notions, the i jirs tin eluding the at- 
 tributes of the notion animal, the second including the 
 attributes of the notion rrt/umaC~These constituent 
 notions, wiimal and rational, may in turn be resolved 
 in like manner into more elementary notions, and. so on 
 until those notions are so elementary as to satisfy the 
 mind. In each of these processes of resolution we have 
 one constituent notion which includes the notion de- 
 fined. This is called the genus. The other constitu- 
 ent notion distinguishes > the fiction defined from "the 
 genus, and is called the differentia. A definition is ? 
 therefore^ a division of a general notion according to 
 its attribute^ It follows that a simple notion, which 
 "can be relerrcd to*no genus, cannot be defined. Thus 
 being, the highest genus known to the mind, is inde- 
 finable, i 
 
 3. Nature of Division. 
 
 The exposition of the extension of a notion is its 
 
 division. Thus, the notion man includes under it 
 
 white men, UacJc men, m/rnen, etc., divided according 
 
 to color; Africans, Asiatics, Europeans, etc., divided 
 
 5 
 
98 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 according to geographical lines ; Jews, Mohan medans t 
 Buddhists, Cfiristiam, etc. divided according to religion 
 It is evident that the character of our division will tie- 
 ,pcnd entirely upon the principle according to which we 
 divide a notion into its constituent objects. It follows 
 that a notion cannot be divided when it includes only 
 one object. 
 
 4. Difference between Definition and 
 Division. 
 
 Definition and division are opposite processes. 
 Comprehension is simply the sum of the qualities, 
 characteristics or attributes of which a notion is com- 
 posed, and is resolved into its parts by definition. Ex- 
 tension is simply the sum or complement of the objects 
 whose resembling characteristics constitute the genera, 
 notion, and is resolved into its parts by division. De 
 filiation is a discrimination of attributes ; division a 
 discrimination of objects. As the list of attributes 
 is lengthened, the list of objects possessing them is 
 shortened ; and vice versa. Being is the maximum of 
 extension and the minimum of comprehension. In- 
 cluding the greatest number of objects, it includes the 
 least number of attributes. 
 
 5. Kinds of Definition. 
 
 Three principal kinds of definition are distinguished 
 by Hamilton. 
 
 (1) Nominal. Nominal definitions are mere ex 
 plications. The} tire, therefore, generally preliminary 
 to a more precise distinction. Thus the nominal def- 
 inition of a circle is, "The word ' circle ' signifies a 
 uniformly curved line." 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 99 
 
 (2) Eeal. In real definitions, the object defined is 
 considered as existing, and the notion precedes the 
 definition. They are merely analytic, nothing being 
 given explicitly in the defining member which is not 
 contained implicitly in the subject defined; as, "A 
 circle is a line returning upon itself, of which all the 
 parts are equi-distant from a given point." 
 
 (3) Genetic. The genetic definition represents the 
 defined object as in the process of becoming. It is 
 therefore synthetic ; as, "A circle is formed when we 
 draw around, and always at the same distance from 
 a fixed point, a movable point which leaves its trace, 
 until the termination of the movement coincides with 
 its commencement." The genetic definition is possible 
 only when the objects to be defined are quantities rep- 
 resented in time or space. 
 
 6. The Laws of Logical Definition. 
 
 The following are the laws of a strictly logical 
 definition. 
 
 (1) A definition must be adequate. This neces- 
 sitates a genus and a differentia, A true definition 
 will admit of a transposition of the subject and the 
 predicate. Such a transposition is an easy test of a 
 definition. If " Man is a rational animal" be an ade- 
 quate definition, it must be true that a rational animal 
 is a man ; for otherwise something besides men is in- 
 cluded in the definition. 
 
 (2) A definition must not define by negative or 
 
 divisive attributes. We do not say what a notion is 
 'by saying what it is not ; nor do we define a notion by 
 referring it to one class or another, which is a process 
 af division. These expedients may properly precede 
 
LOO THE SCIENCE OF KHETOllIC. 
 
 and prepare the way for a definition, but they are net 
 definitions. 
 
 (3) A definition should not be tautological. We 
 
 cannot define an object by itself. rtfThis is called "de- 
 lining in a circle." This is a very common fault, and 
 is fostered by the bilingual character of the English 
 language, which renders it possible to define an Anglo- 
 Saxon word by a Norman-French equivalent. The 
 verbal form conceals the repetition of thought. This 
 mode of explaining by equivalents is often useful, but 
 must not be mistaken for a logical definition. 
 
 (4) The definition must be precise. Any attribute 
 not essential to the distinction only confuses it." The 
 looseness of a definition leaves it open to refutation. 
 The Platonic definition, " Man is a two-legged animal 
 without feathers," was refuted by exhibiting a plucked 
 bird, which, by transposition of the subject and predi- 
 cate, would be a man, if the definition were correct. 
 
 (5) A definition should be perspicuous. The very 
 object of a definition is clearness. That it should itself 
 be perspicuous is, therefore, self-evident. Brevity is 
 generally necessary to perspicuity. Figurative language 
 will often render definitions brilliant, but it will fre- 
 quently expose them to criticism for violating this law. 
 
 7. Kinds of Division. 
 
 (1) Partition. The notion man may be regarded 
 as made up of certain attributes ; as living being, ra- 
 tional^ mortal, etc. This division of a notion into ita 
 component attributes is called partition. It differs 
 from definition in enumerating all the attributes which 
 make up a whole, while definition states only a genus 
 and differentia. It differs from logical division ii: 
 
OF IDnlA. 101 
 
 being a division of the comprehension, not; of tho 
 extension. 
 
 (2) Logical Division. A logical division is an ex 
 position of the extension of a notion ; it enumerates, 
 not tho attributes but the species of a notion. Thus 
 man may be divided into the various species togethei 
 comprising the general notion man, and the division, as 
 previously shown, may be according to any one of many 
 principles. The principle of division is the one essential 
 attribute according to which the division is made. 
 The notion is called the divided whole ; its parts are 
 the dividing members ; these with reference to one 
 another are co-ordinates ; with reference to the divided 
 whole, subordinates. 
 
 8. The Laws of Logical Division. 
 
 The logical division of a notion is regulated by 
 several laws. 
 
 (1) Every Division should have some Principle, 
 
 The reason of this is manifest. If there be no attri- 
 bute with reference to which objects are classed, there 
 can be no division. 
 
 (2) Every Division should have but one Principle. 
 If there are two or more principles of division, there 
 will be no division. Thus, to class men as lolute, Af- 
 rican, English, moral, and Jews, would not be a divis- 
 ion of men, for these classes include one another. 
 
 (3) The Principle of Division should be an actual 
 and essential character of the divided whole, Unless 
 such a principle be selected, there will be no distinct 
 and recognizable line of demarcation between the sub- 
 ordinates. 
 
 (4) No dividing member must of itself exhaust 
 
102 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 the subject. This law follows from the axiom that a 
 part is less than the whole. That then must be a faulty 
 division which represents a part as exhausting the whole 
 A division of men into intelligent races and barbarous 
 races, would violate this law, since all men possess some 
 degree of intelligence, and are hence included under 
 the first class. 
 
 (5) The dividing members must together exhaust 
 
 the notion, but not more, Leaving out a distinct class 
 violates this law. Thus, if we were to divide all actions 
 into the morally good and the morally lad, excluding 
 those which possess no moral quality, the division 
 would be incorrect. This division would be a correct 
 one of moral actions, but not of actions generally, since 
 some are morally indifferent. If we were to divide 
 geometrical figures into surfaces, solids, lines, and 
 points, we should more than exhaust the notion ex* 
 pressed by the word figures, for lines and points, 
 though elements of figures, are not figures. 
 
 (6) The dividing members should not include one 
 
 another. This law is often practically difficult to fol- 
 low. Presenting the same subordinate more than once 
 is a violation of this law. A perfect exposition of a 
 science would so classify its facts that they would ap- 
 pear but once. Practically this is almost impossible. 
 Logic and ^Esthetics, for example, are distinct from 
 Rhetoric, but there could be no science of Ehetoric 
 which should not repeat facts of Logic and ^Esthetics, 
 Again, the laws of Ehetoric are laws of mind, of idea, 
 and of form, but they are all so interdependent that 
 the same fact often reappears under each of these 
 divisions. 
 
 (7) A division should proceed continuously with- 
 
LAVS OF IDEA. 103 
 
 Out hiatus. Division may proceed through proximate 
 or remote subdivisions. A perfect division docs not 
 leap over intermediate steps. Mathematicians may 1'<i 
 brevity say, "'Angles are cither right, or acute, or ob- 
 tuse." A continuous division would be, " Angles are 
 either right or oblique ; and the oblique, either acute 
 or obtuse." 
 
 Imperfect. Continuous.* 
 
 p. Right. p. Right. 
 
 Angles.<2. Acute. Angles. < ( (1) Acute. 
 
 (3. Obtuse (2. Oblique. ] 
 
 ( (2) Obtuse 
 
 \* 9. Exposition of a Proposition. 
 
 A proposition may be explicated by the exposition 
 of its terms. This exposition may be by definition or 
 oy division. The process may be illustrated. 
 
 (1) By Definition. A proposition may be expli- 
 cated by the definition of its terms. Let us take the 
 proposition, " Democracy is promotive of liberty." 
 Assuming that the word "promotive" needs no ex- 
 position, we have an exposition of this proposition 
 when we have defined the terms "democracy" and 
 ' liberty." In seeking for the genus of " democracy," 
 we must first decide whether we mean a form of gov- 
 ernment, a political party, or the avowed principles of 
 that party. If we mean the first, form of government 
 is the genus. The differentia is expressed in the 
 phrase ly the people, which distinguishes it from other 
 forms of government. The logical definition of "do 
 moeracy," in this sense, is, A form of government ~bi } 
 the people. 
 
 "Liberty" must now be defined. In its political 
 sense, " liberty " may be referred to the genus state of 
 society. It must now be distinguished from other states 
 
104 THE SCIENCE OF RHETOK1C. 
 
 of society, such as license, anarchy or despotism. Tlio 
 differentia regulated by just laws distinguishes it from 
 these, since license is lawless, anarchy is the absence ol 
 law, and despotism interferes with it. The definition 
 of " liberty " is, A state of society regulated by just laws. 
 Substituting the two definitions for the original terms, 
 we have the proposition, A form of government by the 
 people is promotive of a state of society regulated by just 
 laws. This is an exposition by definition of the origi- 
 nal proposition. 
 
 (2) By Division. Let us take the proposition. 
 " Frecj^pLstitutions are compatible with literary pro- 
 gress." Assuming that the expression "compatible 
 with " needs no explanation, the exposition of the terms 
 " free institutions " and " literary progress," is the ex- 
 position of the whole proposition. Before dividing the 
 subiect " free institutions," we must select a principle 
 of division. Let it be the interests of society. These 
 are educational, political, religious, commercial, indus- 
 trial, etc. We may then state the proposition thus : 
 
 f educational, 1 
 political, 
 
 Free ! Commercial f institutioils arc compatible with literary progress. 
 
 and 
 ( industrial 
 
 We may now divide the predicate. " Literary pro- 
 gress " may be divided into the progress of the differ- 
 ent departments embraced under the notion literature. 
 These may be imperfectly enumerated as oratory, 
 poetry, history, criticism, journalism. Substituting 
 this complex predicate for the term "literary pro- 
 gress," we have this exposition of the original proposi- 
 tion : 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 105 
 
 Free 
 
 educational, 
 political, 
 
 industrial 
 
 ( oratory, 
 poetry, 
 history, 
 crticisin, 
 
 and 
 journalism. 
 
 It is important to note that if the expanded sub 
 ;'cct and predicate agree, the truth of the origin a] 
 proposition is made evident. If, on the contrary, 
 disagreement can be shown between any element of the 
 expanded predicate and any element of the expanded 
 subject, it shows that the original proposition is not . 
 universally true. ^ - 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 EXPOSITION OF THE NOTION THROUGH 
 ITS RELATIONS. 
 
 When the logical exposition of a notion Is not con- 
 venient, it may be explicated through its relation to 
 other notions. Several methods of doing this may be 
 enumerated. 
 
 1. The Method of Particulars. 
 
 We may explicate a notion by mentioning particu- 
 lar cases or concrete instances. This is a simple expe- 
 dient, adapted to a low order of intelligence, and re- 
 quiring no powers of generalization. Thus, poetry 
 may be explained by enumerating representative poems, 
 and beauty by concrete examples of the beautiful in 
 objects 
 
 2. The Method of Conditions. 
 
 A second method of explicating a notion is to men- 
 tion the conditions essential to its production or P.*;*. 
 5* 
 
100 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 (once. Thus the notion dew may be explained by the 
 enumeration of the circumstances in which the moist- 
 ti iv of atmospheric vapor condenses. Cause and effect 
 are both included under this head. 
 
 3. The Method of Similars. 
 
 A general notion maybe explained by comparing it 
 to similar notions. No direct similitude is necessary, 
 but simply a resemblance of relations. Our notions of 
 divinity and supernatural beings are explicated through 
 our notions of being and spirit as they are known to 
 us inronsciousness. Hence many of the most impor- 
 tant ideas of philosophy and religion are explicated in 
 this way. 
 
 4. The Method of Contrast. 
 
 We may give an exposition of a notion through its 
 opposite. All knowledge is double. Heat and cold, 
 light and darkness, good and evil, are fixed in thought 
 as opposite poles. Some of our most common notions 
 can be discriminated only by this method. The no- 
 tion of self, or the Ego, is distinguished from the not- 
 telf, or non-Ego, by the method of contrast. 
 
A R G U M E N TAT ION. 
 1. The Rhetorical Use of Argument. 
 
 IN many modern systems of Rhetoric, argumenta- 
 tion has no place. The whole process of confirmation 
 is referred to Logic. We need, however, to distinguish 
 between the logical and the rhetorical treatment of the 
 subject. Logic deals with the laws of thought as 
 thought ; Rhetoric deals with the laws of altering or 
 producing conviction. Tke problem of Logic is, with 
 certain propositions as premises, what conclusion may 
 we draw in accordance with the laws of thought ? The 
 problem of Rhetoric concerning arguments is, given, a 
 certain conclusion, how may we confirm it to the mind 
 of another ? Logic gives us the test of arguments ; 
 Rhetoric gives us the rules for making them effective. ' 
 With this distinction, argumentation forms an impor- 
 tant part of Rhetoric. 
 
 2. The Division of Arguments. 
 
 The first step in the treatment of arguments is to 
 find a correct classification of their kinds. Several di 
 visions have been given. 
 
 (1) Form. They have been divided into irregula. 
 or enthymemes, and regular, or syllogisms ; syllogisms 
 into categorical and hypothetical ; the categorical into 
 
108 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 those of the first, second, third, and fourth figures 
 the hypothetical into the conditional and disjunctive , 
 as in the following scheme : 
 
 1st Figure 
 fl. Categorical 
 Argument.] Jv 3 
 
 This is evidently a division according to the form 
 in which they may be stated, for any argument may 
 be stated in any of the forms mentioned. 
 
 (2) Subject Mattor. Another division of argu- 
 ments is into necessary or demonstrative^ and morai 
 or probable ; thus : 
 
 Arp-nmpnt* .I L Necessary or demonstrative, 
 ents - 1 II. Moral or probable. 
 
 This is evidently a division according to the nature 
 of the subject-matter. In mathematics, all arguments 
 are necessary ; in human affairs, they are generally 
 only probable. 
 
 (3) Purpose. Arguments are also divided into 
 direct or indirect, according as the intention is to 
 establish a given proposition, or to reduce a proposition 
 to an absurdity. 
 
 Arguments] fi.^e d ct, ct _ 
 
 This is plainly a division according to the purpose 
 for which the arguments are used. 
 
 (4) Arguments as Such, The three schemes of 
 division above mentioned do not divide arguments as 
 such, but according to some peculiarity of form or use. 
 Hence arguments may at once belong to all three 
 classes. For example, the same argument may be a 
 syllogism, necessary and direct. 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 109 
 
 In order to find a principle of division b) which tc 
 classify arguments according to their essential nature, 
 we must find wherein lies the essence of an argument 
 Arguments are distinguished from other propositions 
 "By some relation between the subject-matter of the conclu- 
 sion and the subject -matter of the proposition used as an 
 argument. A true classification of arguments will be 
 a classification of the kinds of relation which may sub- 
 sist between things. We find these kinds of relation to 
 be three. 
 
 Let the conclusion to be established be, "It will 
 rain to-morrow." What proposition can confirm this 
 conclusion, or, in other words, serve as an argument 
 to prove it ? Clearly none whose subject-matter is not 
 related to the production of rain. " The clouds are 
 forming," would be such a proposition, because the 
 forming of the clouds shows a cause which, if unim- 
 peded, will produce rain. 
 
 Let the proposition be, " It has rained." What 
 proposition will confirm this conclusion ? " The 
 ground is everywhere wet," would be a proposition 
 whose subject-matter is related to the conclusion, since 
 the general wetness is a sign or effect which requires 
 rain as its necessary condition. 
 
 Let the proposition be, " Tyrants are selfish 
 men." The proposition " Caesar was a tyrant and a 
 selfish man," would be an argument, because Caesar is 
 an example of tyrants, and the subject-matter of the 
 two propositions is related by resemblance. 
 
 Causes, signs, and resemblances, are the only kinds 
 of relation in the subject-matter by which a proposi- 
 tion can be established. The argument from cause is 
 called the a priori argument. The arguments from 
 
110 THE SCIENCE OF KHETOBIC. 
 
 sign and resemblance are called a posteriori arguments, 
 The division of arguments as such is exhibited in the 
 following scheme : 
 
 Arguments. 4 ( 1. Sign. 
 
 [II. A posteriori. 
 
 (2. Resemblance. 
 
 These classes, with their subdivisions, will be treated 
 more specifically in the following sections. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 A PRIORI ARGUMENTS. 
 
 1. Nature of the Argument. 
 
 The a priori argument is an argument from cause 
 to effect. By the word cause is here meant whatever 
 would account for a fact, if the fact were admitted. In 
 this sense the word sometimes but not always indicates 
 a physical cause. If we were to adduce the proposi- 
 tion "The sun's rays are most nearly vertical in sum- 
 mer/' to prove that " The earth is warmest in summer," 
 the logical and physical causes would coincide. . If we 
 were to claim that A B and C possess intelligence be- 
 cause they are men, the logical cause would be distinct 
 from any physical cause, for A B and C are no more 
 intelligent because they are men than they are men be- 
 cause they are intelligent. Yet, since the fact that 
 they are men accounts for, i. e., explains wliy they 
 should be regarded as possessing intelligence, this is an 
 & priori argument. The word cause is used in the 
 popular sense. 
 [ 2. Extent of Inference from a Cause. 
 
 When a cause is known to exist, we may infer from 
 its existence any effect which it is capable of produc- 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. ] il 
 
 ing, unless impediments are presented to its operation. 
 Thus, if a man is known to entertain a bitter hatred 
 of a neighbor, and that neighbor is found dead, with 
 obvious marks of assassination, suspicion may point to 
 the hostile neighbor. If impediments to the operation 
 of hatred as the cause of this murder, such as fear of 
 punishment, the fear of God, a forgiving spirit, ab- 
 sence from the place, or some similar circumstances, 
 cannot be shown, the suspicion will be very strong. In 
 this case, however, a posteriori proofs would be needed 
 for conviction, since other causes might have produced 
 this effect, even if hatred be admitted as an adequate 
 causo. Let the case be a purely physical one. Let 
 the steam be turned on in a locomotive, and it is cer- 
 tain that the locomotive will move, unless impeded by 
 too heavy a train, or some other mechanical preventive. 
 
 3. The Absence of Cause. 
 
 As from an existing cause we may infer its effect, 
 so, on the other hand, the absence of a cause is proof 
 that the effect will not follow. If a tree is known to 
 be without vitality, it is certain that it will not put 
 forth leaves and bear fruit. If a man has no motive 
 to commit a crime, and no opportunity of performing 
 it, we may infer that it should not be laid to his charge 
 It may not always be necessary to assign causes, when 
 the a posteriori proofs are overwhelming, for some 
 causes are beyond our discovery, although their effects 
 prove that they exist. 
 
 4. The Degree of Connection between Cause 
 and Effect. 
 
 The degree of connection between a cause and iu 
 
112 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 effect is measured by the probability of limderauce. 
 As tin's probability of hinderance varies greatly, sc 
 must the certainly of an effect when its cause exists 
 and is operative. Physical causes are more closely 
 connected with their effects than moral or mental, 
 [f we know the level of a water course, we know with 
 certainty in what direction the water will flow. If a 
 man is known to hate his neighbors, it is by no means 
 certain that he will injure them ; for he may be de- 
 terred by many motives unknown to any one besides 
 himself. Even threatened violence with an opportu- 
 nity for its exercise, would not place an alleged crime 
 beyond all doubt. Wherever the will is concerned, 
 the connection of cause and effect is uncertain. 
 
 6. Probability Established by a priori 
 Arguments. 
 
 Probability is shown by accounting for an event, or 
 producing its causes. In poetry and romance, it is 
 not necessary that the causes should be real, but they 
 should be such as to account for the effects. In fic- 
 tion, an important rule is, to relate only such incidents 
 as can be accounted for by the causes shown to be op- 
 erative. The explanation need not be given until the 
 mind is lost in mystery, but it shows a lack of art to 
 close a volume without having given to the whole an 
 air of probability, or, at least, of verisimilitude. 
 Future events rest wholly upon a priori arguments. 
 Examples may, indeed, be used to establish the prob* 
 ability of future occurrences, but not directly. The 
 example implies the existence of a cause which will be 
 likely to operate again as it has in the given case- 
 This cause then becomes an a vriori argument. 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 113 
 
 6 Ambiguity of Causal Words 
 
 Such words as why, ?vo am- 
 
 oiguous, si'. no kind 
 
 of sequence. Clearness oi' thought in the use of a pri- 
 ori arguments requires a close distinction between these 
 different senses. The word why for example, may in- 
 quire after the physical cause ; as, " Why do thunder 
 storms occur in summer ? " the logical cause ; as, " Why 
 is the sum of the angles in a triangle equal to two right 
 angles?" or the final cause or purpose; as, "Why is 
 man filled with aspirations after immortality ? " 
 
 SECTION II. 
 ARGUMENTS FROM SIGN. 
 
 1. Nature of the Argument. 
 
 The argument from sign is an argument from an 
 effect to a condition. An effect implies the existence 
 of some condition so connected with the effect that the 
 existence of the condition may be inferred from the 
 existence of the effect. For example, a man is found 
 with a bloody dagger in his hand, and another man is 
 found near by stabbed to death. The possession of a 
 bloody dagger is an effect implying some use of the 
 dagger as its condition. If no other condition than a 
 murderous use of the dagger can be suggested, the 
 possessor of the dagger is proved to be the murderer. 
 If another use of the dagger is avowed, guilt must be 
 determined by the balance of probability that the 
 murderous use, and not the alleged use was the con- 
 dition. 
 
114 TIIE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 If a condition be absolutely essential to the effect, 
 the existence of the effect is demonstrative proof of the 
 condition. If a watch were found in an unpopulated 
 island, it would be demonstrative proof that it had beon 
 carried there, that being the necessary condition of its 
 being there. The presence of the watch would be 
 probable evidence that a man had been there, but not 
 demonstrative, for other conditions are supposable, 
 such as the wreck of a vessel, and the drifting of some 
 portion to the island. 
 
 2. The Calculation of Chances. 
 
 This leads us at once to the doctrine of chances, 
 since it is often necessary to decide between several 
 possible conditions, one of which must be inferred from 
 the given effect. In the case above cited, a sophist 
 might ask, what is the objection to the supposition 
 that the watch was always on the island, was, in short, 
 the product of unconscious natural forces ? Men have 
 reasoned similarly about the fossils of extinct animals. 
 They have asked why these objects may not have been 
 produced just as they are, and for no distinct purpose. 
 The obvious answer is, they show marks of desiyn. But 
 the elements of these fossils or of this watch, appar- 
 ently adjusted with so much skill, must exist in some 
 form, why not in this ? There are as many chances 
 against one form as against any other given form. The 
 solution of this difficulty lies in the fact that such rea- 
 soning presents a false alternative. The proper com- 
 parison of chances is not between this arrangement of 
 particles in the watch and some other determinate 
 arrangement, but between the probability of the watch 
 U-ing the product of unconscious forces and the prob- 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 115 
 
 ability of its being made by a man and broug-!\x *.<* the 
 island in some way. The comparison of chauces hi 
 the case of the fossil is not between this arrangement 
 as opposed to another, bnt between the probability 
 that it was formed for no purpose, and the probability 
 that it is the remains of some animal. 
 
 3. Proof of a Cause. 
 
 Among condition* have no causal connection 
 
 with a plieiiomeiioo, others have such a connection. 
 To use Whately's. illustration, if a man dies to-day, 
 we may infer that he was alive yesterday. His being 
 alive yesterday, however, while an essential condition 
 of his dying to-day, has no tendency to produce his 
 death to-day. Some conditions have a causal relation 
 to the effect. If the man dies to-day, some antecedent 
 must be supposed to have produced this effect. It is 
 impossible to prove any condition as a cause from the 
 effect alone. A cause may prove an effect, if there 
 are no hinderances, although there may be other causes ; 
 but the cause cannot be inferred from the effect, for it 
 can never be certain that the cause supposed to be 
 proved is the only or operative cause. Practically the 
 cause may be inferred from the effect with sufficient 
 probability to establish conviction when the essential 
 condition seems to be only one. In that case, since 
 every effect must have a cause, we infer that the sole 
 condition must be the cause. But this proof is not 
 demonstrative, for the true cause maybe different from 
 Hie supposed cause, and yet escape our detection. 
 
 4. Testimony. 
 
 Testimony is a kind of sign implying a? a condition 
 jf us existence un* truth of the fact attested. The 
 
116 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 laws of motive render it piobable that testimony would 
 not be given if the attestation were not called forth bj 
 fact. The same law leads us to infer the possibility 
 of a different condition, as incompetency, falsehood, 
 etc In every case where testimony is used as an argu- 
 ment, we must decide between the truth of the attes- 
 tation on the one hand, and the incompetency or cor- 
 ruption of the witness on the other. The decision of 
 such questions requires us to attend to several particu- 
 lars affecting the value of testimony. 
 
 (1) The Number of Witnesses. The greater the 
 
 number of witnesses, other things being equal, the 
 greater the value of the testimony. The number, 
 however, is frequently overestimated, as when men 
 bear witness to the truth of certain doctrines of religion 
 and science. Having never given these a personal in- 
 vestigation, their testimony is not really to the truth 
 of these doctrines, but to the fact that they are held as 
 true. 
 
 (2) Character of Witnesses. The moral and intel- 
 lectual character of the witness is important to the 
 value of the testimony. A man may be so deceived as 
 to believe that to have happened which in reality 
 never occurred. Dr. Whately regards the testimony of 
 ignorant and prejudiced men as especially valuable 
 when it attests things too abstruse for them to invent, 
 or contrary to their prejudices. The testimony of the 
 disciples of Jesus, though coming from comparatively 
 ignorant men, is not the less valuable since they testify 
 to facts which they had not the ingenuity to invent, 
 and to doctrines contrary to all their Jewish prejudices. 
 
 (3) Concurrent Witnesses. Concurrent testimony 
 is especially valuable if there has been no opportunity 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 11? 
 
 for collusion. Too close concurrence, however, leads 
 to the suspicion of previous conference, and the inven- 
 tion of a tale. The testimony of different witnesses 
 who have observed the same transaction ought to pre- 
 sent differences of detail from their having occupied 
 different points of view, and from their subjective 
 modification of the facts, as well as from observing at 
 slightly different periods of time. The slight differ- 
 ence in the stories of the evangelists with reference to 
 the garment worn by our Saviour at his crucifixion, is 
 confirmatory of their trustworthiness as witnesses. 
 The difference may naturally be accounted for either 
 by the different times of day when the observations 
 were made, or by an optical difference not uncommon, 
 or, perhaps, both. The divergence of statement is 
 proof that there was no collusion. 
 
 (4) Adverse Witnesses. Adverse testimony is 
 usually incidental, as in the Jewish work called the 
 "Generation of Jesus," which refers the miracles of 
 Jesus to magic, thereby admitting their actual per- 
 formance. Such evidence will generally be found in 
 some minute detail, but the intrinsic insignificance of 
 the circumstance is no measure of its value in an ar- 
 gument. Much skill in cross-examination may be 
 necessary to draw out the testimony of an unwilling 
 witness, or to show the inconsistency of his story. Dr. 
 Whately cautions against brow-beating a witness, and 
 sums up the whole philosophy of cross-examination in 
 the forcible sentence : " The more the storm blusters, 
 the more carefully he wraps round him the cloak 
 which a warm sunshine will often induce him to 
 throw off." * 
 
 * Rhetoric, Part I., Chap. a. 
 
118 THE SCIENCE OF KHETOiUC. 
 
 (5) Character of Facts Attested. We need to 
 
 clistir guish sharply between matters of fact and mat 
 bcrs of opinion. Witnesses almost invariably mingle 
 their own opinions and explanations with the facts 
 ictually observed. Testimony as to matters of fact is 
 valuable when the witness is honest and has sound 
 senses. Testimony to matters of opinion requires in- 
 telligence, or the ability to form a judgment, in addi- 
 tion to honesty and sound organs of perception. Any 
 thing beyond the natural expectations of the witness, 
 and so not likely to enter his mind except by the actual 
 occurrence, is of additional weight on that account. So 
 the omission from a story of what would naturally oc- 
 cur to a fabricator, is indicative of truth. 
 
 (6) The Denial of Testimony. To deny the story 
 of a witness is to believe that he has invented it, or is 
 deluded. Here we need to remember that belief and 
 disbelief are the same mental state with regard to con- 
 tradictory propositions. The proper opposite of belief 
 3& doubt, or indecision. To reject testimony is, there- 
 fore, to affirm that some other condition than truth 
 must be inferred, invention, or misunderstanding. 
 
 5. Authority. 
 
 The opinions of competent men are often used as 
 an argument, and in this case the argument is called 
 proof from authority. Authority is a kind of sign, 
 since its existence supposes the truth of what is as- 
 serted as a condition of the assertion's being made. 
 Thus, in legal decisions, the ability and honesty of the 
 judge, and the careful advocacy of both sides by com- 
 petent lawyers, assure us that the decision would not 
 have been what it is, unless truth and law required it 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 119 
 
 to be so. Quotations from the Scriptures, precedents 
 in law, the opinions of philosophers, and the decisions 
 of physicians, are all valid arguments in their respec- 
 tive spheres, because their existence implies truth as 
 the condition of their being what they are. The mul- 
 tiplicity of facts and the preoccupation of men with 
 their special lines of investigation, render authority a 
 chief source of conviction in departments of thought 
 lying without our range of personal observation. Our 
 religious, political, and philosophical doctrines, usually 
 rest on this kind of proof. 
 
 6. The Progressive Argument. 
 
 Another kind of argument belonging to the class 
 culled sign, is " the argument from progressive ap- 
 proach." It consists of a series of signs, each one of 
 which proves more conclusively than the preceding that 
 a certain condition exists. If we roll a ball along the 
 floor, it ceases moving after it has rolled a short dis- 
 tance. We may infer from the effect, that friction 
 and gravitation and the resistance of the air retard it, 
 and that if these retarding causes were removed, it 
 would roll on forever. We roll a smoother ball over 
 a smoother floor, and the duration of its motion is in- 
 creased. If we continue to diminish the resistance 
 as much as possible, the duration of the motion in- 
 creases in proportion to this diminution. A succes- 
 -ion of signs satisfies the mind that if these means of 
 rsistance were entirely removed, a body with a given 
 dioi nen turn would move on forever with un diminished 
 velocity. This argument may be applied to moral as 
 well as to physical cases. Bishop Butler has employed 
 it in the " Analogy " to show the inherent power ol 
 virtue. 
 
 
120 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 ARGUMENTS FROM RESEMBLANCE. 
 
 1. Nature of the Argument. 
 
 The argument from resemblance rests upon the 
 constancy of nature. It has no validity except upon 
 the ground that what is true in a certain case or cases 
 will be true in other similar cases. It is evident that 
 this argument is liable to great abuse, owing to the 
 difficulty of deciding what cases are essentially similar. 
 If it be true that like cases are owing to like causes 
 u-nd produce like effects, it is equally true that unlike 
 #ases are not referable to like causes, and are not pro- 
 ductive of like effects. Hence the value of the argu- 
 ment depends wholly upon the detection of essential 
 resemblances. 
 
 2. Essential Resemblances. 
 
 In order to test the validity of arguments founded 
 on resemblance, we must have some criterion by which 
 to distinguish between important and unimportant re- 
 semblances. It is not necessary that the cases should 
 correspond in every particular. Men may belong to 
 different nations, engage in different pursuits, and have 
 different habits of life, yet they possess certain qualities 
 in common with all men, and so far as they resemble 
 one another what is affirmed of one may be affirmed of 
 another. Sophists are ever ready with the objection 
 that the cases differ in some respects. They may differ 
 in all respects except one, and still the argument from 
 resemblance maj be valid. Again, the cases may re- 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 12l 
 
 gemble each other in every particular except one, ami 
 still the argument from resemblance may be invalid. 
 The essential point is, are the similar features owing 
 I the same cause? 
 
 Let us take, for example, the proposition, " All 
 tyrants are selfish." We may adduce as an argument 
 the proposition, " Caesar and Napoleon were selfish." 
 Here the resemblance between " all tyrants " and 
 " Caesar and Napoleon" is the basis of the argument. 
 Tyrants may differ in many personal qualities, in na- 
 tionality, and in the age in which they live. They re- 
 semble one another, however, in one important point, 
 the desire of controlling others. If this distinctive point 
 of resemblance be referable to selfishness as its sole 
 cause, i.e., if tyranny be an effect of selfishness, it is 
 clear that all tyrants are selfish, for selfishness is the 
 cause of their being tyrants. Arguments from re- 
 semblance are but probable, for they are valid only in 
 so far as they prove a common cause, but the proof of 
 a cause is never more than probable. The degree of 
 probability depends partly upon the closeness of con- 
 nection between the cause and its effect. As in a priori 
 arguments, physical causes and effects are more closely 
 connected than moral causes and effects. 
 
 3. Example. 
 
 (1) Nature of Example. Among the varieties of 
 argument founded upon resemblance, the simplest, 
 and, perhaps, most common is example. The logical 
 analysis of this argument is as follows. We assume, 
 as a major premise, that whatever is true of the case 
 adduced as an example, is universally true in like cases. 
 In the minor premise we assert something to be true in 
 6 
 
122 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 the example. In the conclusion we infer that what haa 
 been asserted is true of all like cases. Using this con- 
 clusion as a major premise, we assert in the minor that 
 in individual case belongs to the class mentioned in the 
 major, and our conclusion is, that the assertion in the 
 major applies to the individual case. 
 
 (2) Invented Examples. Fictitious cases are often 
 adduced as arguments. The} 7 are legitimate in propor- 
 tion to their verisimilitude. Aristotle cites an instance 
 of invented example used by Socrates, in which the 
 latter shows the absurdity of choosing magistrates by 
 lot by the folly of selecting a pilot in the same man- 
 ner ; since, if the lot fell on an unskilled person, it 
 would probably result in the loss of the ship. Although 
 only a supposed case, this example has considerable 
 force. This force is wholly derived from its general 
 truth ; i. e., it is such a case as might arise, and if it 
 should, the relations of cause and effect would be as 
 represented. 
 
 (3) Illustrative Examples. Examples are fre- 
 quently used merely as illustrations, not to confirm 
 but to explain a proposition. Illustrative examples 
 affirm nothing more than a resemblance, argumenta- 
 tive examples affirm a common cause of which the re- 
 semblance is the effect. Hence it is unfair to treat 
 mere illustrations as if they were designed as argu- 
 ments. Fables and legends are frequently employed 
 as embellishments of discourse, or to explain the gen- 
 eral meaning. It is sophistical to attack these as un- 
 real, as if the truth of the main proposition depended 
 apon the truth of the illustrations. It is fair and im- 
 portant, however, to point out the fact that these ex 
 planatory examples have no argumentative force, and 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 123 
 
 should be taken, not as instances of the general truth 
 alleged, but as supposed consequences of it. In this 
 ease the truth of the examples presupposes the general 
 trutti, and hence it would be arguing in a circle to 
 prove the law from supposed instances. Suppositions 
 illustrate, but prove nothing. 
 
 4. Induction. 
 
 If we stop at the general conclusion of the first syl- 
 logism in the illustration of example, the argument is 
 called induction. The cases from which the conclu- 
 sion is drawn may be one or many, according to the 
 nature of the subject-matter. In physical investiga- 
 tion,'one experiment may be sufficient to establish the 
 conclusion. If, for example, a substance turns blue 
 litmus paper red at the first trial, the chemist is satis- 
 fied that the substance possesses acid properties. If 
 five men have died in a certain town on five successive 
 Saturdays, it would be a hasty inference to lay it down 
 as certain that some citizen of that town will die on 
 every following Saturday. As in the argument from 
 example, we must eliminate as far as possible what is 
 accidental, and determine what is essential and causal 
 in the similar cases. This is done in several ways. 
 
 (1) The Method of Agreement. When two or 
 
 more phenomena are uniformly associated, as a surface 
 colder than the surrounding air and the production of 
 dew, we infer that one of the associated phenomena is 
 the cause of the other. There is great danger of error 
 in the use of this method. Thus misfortune and piety 
 may be associated uniformly in the enterprises of a 
 man, but it would be fallacious to make the one the 
 cause of the other, on that ground alone. 
 
124 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 (2) The Method of Difference When a phenom- 
 cnon A is not associated with a phenomenon B, but is 
 uniformly associated with a phenomenon 0, we may 
 infer that A is caused by some difference between 15 
 and C. When that difference lies in a single particular, 
 that particular may be regarded as the cause of A, if 
 it be of a causal nature. If, for example, times were 
 hard under one administration of the government, and 
 prosperous under a new rule, with no difference in the 
 state of affairs except that a change had been made in 
 the financial system, the new rule would properly be 
 regarded as the cause of prosperity. This is the 
 method of difference. This also is liable to sophistical 
 uses. The failure to detect any other difference than 
 the change may be owing to the limitation of our 
 faculties or our facilities for knowing. A common 
 laborer may be led by a demagogue to attribute to a 
 new administration what is really owing to some other 
 cause, as a good crop, or a demand for labor occasioned 
 by a new discovery. 
 
 (3) The Method of Residues. If we carry out the 
 method of difference as far as possible by removing one 
 condition after another until one remains, we may re- 
 gard the remaining circumstance as the cause. If we 
 wish to find the cause of a man's failure to perform a 
 certain piece of work, we may show that his failure was 
 not for want of help, for help was given ; nor of time, 
 for there was sufficient time ; nor of ability, for he was 
 fully capable ; nor on account of sickness, for he was 
 in good health ; nor because of preoccupation, for he 
 was at leisure ; nor from forge tfulness, for he was re- 
 minded at the time ; nor from indolence, for he was 
 fond of labor ; we may infer that it was very probably 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 125 
 
 unwillingness. This, however, cannot be inferred 
 unless every other equally probable supposition haa 
 been excluded. This is called the method of residues. 
 
 (4) The Method of Concomitant Variations, If 
 now we fary the circumstances, so as to produce grad- 
 ations of a phenomenon, we have the method of con- 
 comitant variations. If it be shown that the higher 
 we raise the temperature of a mass of iron the more 
 space the mass occupies, we conclude that heat expands 
 iron. 
 
 By these methods we determine whether or not a 
 particular fact exists, and whether or not certain par- 
 ticular facts are similar. By induction we infer that 
 these particular truths are universal. No real induc- 
 tion is formally valid. In affirming that what is true 
 of a part is true of the whole we transcend our actual 
 knowledge, and hence may fall into error. The four 
 methods above are intended to reduce this possible 
 error to its minimum. 
 
 5. Analogy. 
 
 The argument from analogy is founded on a re- 
 semblance of relations, while ordinary examples are 
 founded on a direct resemblance. . There is an analogy 
 between the human heart and a great city, and hence 
 it has been argued that when the size of a city is greatly 
 increased its functions are impaired. The argument 
 for the inhabitation of the planets is of this kind, since 
 they resemble the earth in their general relations, 
 though not in all particulars. The argument from 
 analogy has great force in winning the assent of super- 
 ficial thinkers, but its logical analysis reveals the dan 
 -gcr of depending upon it, unless confirmed by collat- 
 eral proofs. 
 
126 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 THE CONDUCT OF A DISCUSSION. 
 
 Argumentation, unlike the other elementary forms 
 of discourse, admits of two sides, and implies mental 
 conflict. The conduct of an argumentative discussion 
 requires skill in addition to a knowledge of the different 
 classes of arguments. We shall, therefore, in this 
 section consider those principles of argumentation 
 which govern the enforcement of our ideas when they 
 are exposed to opposition. This subject naturafty falls 
 under the following heads: (1) the PREPARATION OF THE 
 QUESTION; (2) the INTRODUCTION; (3) the CONFIRMA 
 
 TION OF THE THESIS ; and (4) REFUTATION. TllCSC 
 
 will now be treated in their order. 
 
 I. THE PREPARATION OF THE 
 QUESTION. 
 
 1. Necessity of Preparation. 
 
 The importance of attending to the form of the 
 proposition to be proved is equally great whether it is 
 to be discussed affirmatively and negatively by differ- 
 ent persons, or is to constitute the theme of a single 
 speaker or writer. It is not necessary that the propo- 
 sition be formally announced at the beginning. If it be 
 offensive or insignificant, its announcement should be 
 withheld until the facts and arguments have removed 
 the prejudices against it. But if the proposition to be 
 proved be laid down in the author's mind in the be- 
 ginning, and be steadily held in view throughout the 
 liscussion, it will insure the absence of what is irrel- 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 127 
 
 evant, and impart to the whole train of argument the 
 character of coherence and adaptation. 
 
 2. Exposition. 
 
 When the proposition is laid down, it should be 
 carefully studied, in order to satisfy the mind that it 
 Is just what is meant to be asserted, and that we are 
 prepared to establish precisely this proposition and not 
 another allied to it. Debate is frequently rendered 
 unnecessary by mere exposition ; the apprehension of 
 the real meaning putting the question beyond all 
 doubt. When the proposition is perfectly clear, a 
 formal and avowed exposition of it is unnecessary. AlJ 
 ambiguities and special 'senses should be explained in 
 the beginning. If the proposition is to be debated, it 
 should be stated in the form of an affirmative resolu- 
 tion. The advocate of the affirmative assumes the 
 burden of proof, and until arguments are advanced in 
 confirmation of the proposition, none are needed in 
 refutation. Much has been written on " presumption 
 and burden of proof." The simple and universal rule 
 on the subject is, that the burden of proof always lies 
 with the affirmative. This rule is founded on the self- 
 evident principle that no one should be bound to prove 
 a negative. 
 
 3. Concession. 
 
 In the exposition of any question it will be seen 
 that there are certain facts which both sides admit. 
 These should be eliminated from the discussion by a con- 
 cession of their reality. Silence is often interpreted 
 as concession. Care should be taken to deprive an op 
 ponent of the right to claim such a concession. A 
 
128 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 topic may be waived, with the express promise to con- 
 sider it at another time. This may properly be done, 
 AS it may not be possible to put the topic in its true 
 light until certain facts and arguments have been 
 presented. Sophists frequently waive a subordinate 
 but important proposition, and evade any farther 
 consideration of it, or finally claim that it is unne- 
 cessary. 
 
 4. Contrary Opinions. 
 
 It is often advisable to state contrary opinions, 
 at the beginning. There are several advantages in this, 
 belonging to different cases. When the only alterna- 
 tive opinion is manifestly absurd, the statement that 
 it is the only alter native will win favor for the proposi- 
 tion maintained. When there are other alternatives 
 besides the one assumed by our opponent, a statement 
 of that fact has the effect of leading to the belief that 
 if we are wrong, our opponent at least may not be right. 
 Other theories may have to be cleared away before oui 
 own can be established. Burke begins his work on 
 the " Sublime and Beautiful " by showing that beauty 
 does not consist in "adaptation," "proportion," or 
 "perfection." 
 
 II. THE INTRODUCTION. 
 1. Design of an Introduction. 
 
 An introduction is not an essential part of a com- 
 position. Its very name implies that it is preparatory 
 to something else, which is complete in itself, but needs 
 to be brought into relation with the time and occasion. 
 Hence Cicero's rule was, to compose the introductior 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 129 
 
 
 
 after he had finished the composition. Mere general- 
 ities are thus avoided, and the introduction is made 
 truly subservient to its end. Although the attention 
 ueeds to be stimulated less than at any other part of a 
 liscourse, since all attend to the first few words, it is 
 desirable to arouse interest by the character of the 
 introduction. 
 
 2. Kinds of Introduction. 
 
 Adaptation to its purpose requires that the intro- 
 duction vary with the character of the composition. 
 A few varieties are enumerated by Dr. Whately which 
 readily suggest others. 
 
 (1) Inquisitive. The inquisitive introduction aims 
 to arouse interest by asking some question, or showing 
 the importance of what is to be treated. 
 
 (2) Paradoxical, When one is perfectly sure of his 
 proofs, it may stimulate interest to state the conclusion 
 to be reached in some paradoxical way, or to represent 
 U as strange or unusual. 
 
 (3) Corrective. It may be well to show that the 
 subject has been misunderstood, neglected, or mis- 
 represented, and should therefore engage the attention. 
 This may be dalled the corrective introduction. It is 
 particularly appropriate if the subject be a trite one. 
 
 (4) Preparatory. It is sometimes necessary to 
 guard against some mistake, explain some peculiarity 
 in the discussion, or account for some deficiency. This 
 has been called the preparatory introduction. 
 
 (5) Narrative. It is often desirable to Inform the 
 reader or hearer of some event, or to describe some 
 state of affairs, necessary to be known for the compre- 
 hension of what is to follow. All historical questions 
 
130 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 
 
 require an introduction of this kind. This is the nar 
 rative introduction. 
 
 /' Two or more of these forms may be combined. 
 III. CONFIRMATION. 
 
 1. The Uses of the Different Classes of 
 Arguments. 
 
 When the thesis has been laid down, formally or 
 mentally, we need to confirm it by such arguments as 
 are best suited to its nature. The uses of the various 
 arguments will, therefore, now be considered. 
 
 (1) A Priori. The a priori argument is used to 
 account for a fact, and to establish futu re events. As 
 has been shown, we may infer an effect from the ex- 
 istence of a cause, proportionately to the tendency of 
 the cause to produce the effect. In this way past 
 events are explained, and future events are anticipated 
 
 (2) Sign. The argument from sign is used to 
 establish a fact after its occurrence, or as a genera-- 
 truth. Thus murder could be proved by testimony, or 
 by circumstantial signs, such as blood on the hands, 
 possession of an identified weapon, an effort to conceal 
 one's self, etc. A general truth may be proved by 
 authority ; as, for example a legal or religious doctrine. 
 
 (3) Resemblance. Arguments from resemblance 
 are less certain than the preceding kinds, but often 
 quite as satisfactory to minds predisposed to the con- 
 clusion. They are most useful in showing the consis- 
 tency of an alleged fact. Induction is the means of 
 establishing new general truths, as in the sciences. 
 Future events are inferred from examples, but always 
 on the assumption of a common cause uniformly acting. 
 
ULWS OF IDEA. Id 
 
 2. The Arrangement of Arguments. 
 
 (1) Importance of Arrangement. As in the mili- 
 tary art, so in composition, arrangement is of the 
 greatest importance. If one were to attempt to prove 
 that a miracle had been performed without giving any 
 reason why it should be, the proofs would need to be 
 rery strong in order to be satisfactory. If, howevei, 
 it be first shown that a revelation might be expected 
 from a benevolent deity, and that it could not be con- 
 firmed without miracles, much less proof would be 
 necessary. In the contest between ^Eschines and De- 
 mosthenes concerning the crown, the former requested 
 the judges to require the latter to adopt the same 
 arrangement in his reply as had previously been chosen 
 by his adversary. Demosthenes rightly claimed that 
 this demand was unfair, and chose his own order. 
 
 (2) Order of Arguments According to Kind. It 
 is plain that a priori arguments ought to have the pre- 
 cedence, since they render natural what might other- 
 wise seem improbable. A theory of the causes cannot 
 always be given, but it is desirable that a fact be ac- 
 counted for. A posteriori arguments, or positive proofs 
 of the facts, are then received with less hesitation. The 
 argument from cause may not be sufficient. It does 
 not follow because a phenomenon might occur, that it 
 actually did occur. When antecedent probability has 
 been established by arguments from cause to effect, 
 arguments from sign and resemblance may be added to 
 ghow that the causes alleged were actually operative, 
 and did produce the alleged effect. 
 
 (3) Order of Arguments According to Strength. 
 
 The most obvious arguments should come first, yet not 
 
132 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 in such a way as to bring the ivcalccst first. The Nes- 
 torian arrangement of troops, with the weakest in the 
 middle, suggests an advantageous order of arguments, 
 Et avoids anti-climax, and at the same time opens the 
 discussion with a strong argument. An inverse reca- 
 pitulation of the arguments also obviates the effect of 
 anti-climax, when in the original order the weakest 
 comes last. A mere mention of the weak arguments 
 at the beginning, with the statement that you do not 
 rely upon them or mean to use them, may often prove 
 effective. 
 
 (4) Proving by Installments. Sometimes it is 
 
 necessary to divide a proposition into several, and to 
 prove each of these by itself. If Paley in his Evidences 
 had proceeded at once to prove that we ought to be- 
 lieve the statements of the Scriptures, his argument 
 would have been unnecessary in the view of believers, 
 and probably inconclusive in the view of skeptics. He 
 proves several propositions which together establish 
 his main proposition, and thus the discussion is made 
 entertaining to believers and conclusive to many who 
 were skeptical. His successive propositions are as 
 follows : 
 
 (a) The apostles suffered. 
 
 (5) They suffered knowingly. 
 
 (c) They suffered for their testimony. 
 
 (d) They testified to miracles. 
 
 (e) The miracles were the same as are recorded in the 
 New Testament. 
 
 IV. REFUTATION. 
 
 Refutation consists in overthrowing arguments ami 
 objections opposed to the thesis which we wish to con 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 13,1 
 
 drm. Several particulars with reference to its man- 
 agement are of great importance. 
 
 1. Modes of Refutation. 
 
 A conclusion can be combated in two ways ; VFG 
 may prove its contradictory, or we may overthrow the 
 arguments by which it has been supported. 
 
 (1) Proving the Contradictory. Since contradic- 
 tories cannot both be true, it is a practical refutation 
 of an argument to prove the contradictory of its conclu- 
 sion. This is often easier than to detect and exhibit 
 the fault of an opposing argument. In this way 
 writers who know nothing of each other's works may 
 refute each other's statements. While important am 1 
 often sufficient, this mode of procedure is not specific- 
 ally ref utatory. 
 
 (2) Overthrowing Arguments. Refutation, in its 
 specific sense, means the overthrow of an opposing ar- 
 gument. This overthrow may be accomplished in two 
 ways : we may deny one of the premises, or shoAV if 
 fallacy in the process of reasoning. 
 
 We may deny the premise when it is false. The 
 false premise is generally suppressed, and the argu- 
 ment stated as an enthymeme. A syllogistic statement 
 of the argument will generally reveal the falsity of the 
 suppressed premise, and this may then be pointed out. 
 The deistic argument against the divine authority oJ 
 Moses may be stated thus: 
 
 Major, A divinely appointed lawgiver would cxjr 
 tainly reveal the doctrine of immortality ; 
 
 Minor,' Moses does not mention it ; 
 
 Conclusion. Moses was not a divinely appointed 
 lawgiver. 
 
134 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC, 
 
 The deistic argument, as stated ~by its advocates. 
 suppressed the major premise, which was supplied by 
 Warburton,* who denies its truth, and thus refutes 
 their argument. 
 
 One way of showing the falsity of a premise is t 
 make it a premise of a syllogism in which the othei 
 premise is an admitted truth, and hence to draw an 
 absurd conclusion. This proves the falsity of the pre- 
 mise taken from the opposing argument, for in a cor- 
 rect syllogism there is no alternative except to deny a 
 premise or accept the'conclusion. The conclusion can- 
 not be accepted for it is absurd, the supplied premise 
 cannot be denied for it is an admitted truth ; hence 
 the opponent's premise must be false. The conclusion 
 of an opponent may be made a premise and proved 
 false in the same manner. This is called the indirect 
 argument, or reductio ad absurdum. It is particularly 
 adapted to controversy on account of its irony, and 
 power to turn the laugh on an opponent. It is said of 
 an argument which can be thus answered, " the argu- 
 ment proves too much," since, if true, absurdities 
 would logically follow from it. In his " Defence of 
 Natural Society by a Late ISToble Lord," Burke, feign 
 ing to accept the principles of Bolingbroke, makes th 
 arguments brought by the latter against ecclesiastica 
 institutions overthrow civil society as well, thus show- 
 ing that the arguments prove too much. 
 
 The detection of fallacies in the reasoning is a 
 purely logical process. If a fallacy exist, it will be 
 found by running over the list of fallacies given in 
 Logic, and testing the argument with respect to each. 
 When the fallacy is seen the simplest refutation is the 
 
 * Divine Legation. 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 135 
 
 construction of a parallel case in which the logical fault 
 will be evident to all. 
 
 2. Treatment of Objections. 
 
 Objections may be offered which are not exprc 
 in the form of arguments. In order to exhibit their 
 argumentative value they should be thrown into a reg- 
 ular syllogistic form. If this be impossible, the oppo- 
 nent may be challenged to show the bearing of his 
 objection ; if it be exhibited as a syllogism, its answer 
 will be more readily suggested. Several rules of a 
 special character deserve attention in the treatment of 
 objections. 
 
 (1) Valid Objections on Both Sides. There may 
 
 be valid objections on both sides of a question. If two 
 armies are contending, one advocate may rightly urge 
 the superior skill of his friends, another may claim the 
 superior equipment of his friends, as reasons why each 
 should be victorious^ Both sides here have reasons for 
 expecting victory, both sides are met with objections, 
 and no logic but the logic of events can decide between 
 the opposing claims. Even in physical science such 
 objections may exist on both sides. There are objec- 
 tions to the infinite 'divisibility of matter, and objections 
 to the contradictory doctrine. These difficulties often 
 grow out of the limitation of our faculties and the re- 
 lativity of our knowledge. A r alid objections should be 
 candidly explained as referable to such a deficiency iu 
 OTir powers or our knowledge. 
 
 (2) Decisive Objections. Objections to our views 
 may be offered which are not only valid, but really de- 
 cide the question at issue. Such objections should bo 
 acknowledged as final. It is more expedient, to saj 
 
136 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 nothing of the ethical quality of the action, to acknowl 
 edge error than to resist palpable truth. No one 
 believes in our infallibility when we are nor, moved by 
 ijvious truth, but a confession of error inspires con- 
 fidence in one's honesty of purpose. There is sometimes 
 <\ sophistical acknowledgment for no other purpose 
 than the establishment of a reputation for fairness. 
 
 (3) Statement of Objections. If objections are 
 
 not stated in their full forcQ, there is danger of pro- 
 ducing the opinion that we either underestimate the 
 full force of the opposing statements, or are not pre- 
 pared to meet them. On the other hand, it is stil, 
 more unfair, if not so inexpedient, to overstate objec- 
 tions, making them appear to be made against more 
 than they really oppose. Thus a person who objects 
 to a certain interpretation of the Scriptures is often 
 represented as rejecting the authority of the whole 
 book. Those who object to certain modes of public 
 trial and punishment are sometimes answered as if 
 they rejected all administration of justice. 
 
 3. Cautions concerning Refutation. 
 
 The attempt to satisfy other minds that our ideas 
 alone are correct is attended with some special dangers. 
 
 (1) Too Forcible Refutation. A violent attack 
 upon some olgection or argument may magnify unduly 
 its importance. When a man lays aside his coat and 
 makes great preparation for labor, it leads us to sup- 
 pose that he is impressed with the magnitude of hia 
 task. A debater may easily give his auditors a similar 
 impression by laboring too obviously to overthrow an 
 objection. 
 
 (2) Too Great Clearness, If any new proposition 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 137 
 
 be established too clearly, it may create surprise that 
 any one could ever have doubted it, or that wise men 
 should have failed to discover it, or that so able a man 
 as your opponent could possibly dissent from it, and 
 hence it may be concluded that there is some subtile 
 fallacy in your argument, which it is difficult to detect. 
 
 (3) Prior Convictions. This will be more likely 
 to be the case if the persons addressed have themselves 
 strongly held the opinions controverted. They are 
 unwilling to believe that they have been so long cm- 
 bracing nonsense without knowing it. It is more nat- 
 ural to conclude that the speaker or writer is either 
 ignorant of some fact, or that his argument is fal- 
 lacious. 
 
 (4) Accusations. This feeling reaches its height 
 and is accompanied with indignation when a direct 
 charge of criminality or imbecility is made against 
 those who hold the opinion refuted. Men who have 
 been actuated by right motives in holding these views, 
 and there are generally some such in every sect 01 
 T^arty, know the unfairness and untruthfulness of these 
 charges. They, at least, die! not hold the opinions con- 
 demned, from any other thai, pure motives, and they 
 do not believe themselves wholly stupid. They, there- 
 fore, prefer to regard their calumniator as a foe, whose 
 arguments they may not answer, but whose conclusions 
 they indignantly repel. 
 
 (5) Weak Arguments. When the arguments to 
 oe refuted are excessively weak, it is often difficult to 
 make them appear more foolish than they seem to be, 
 without a direct charge of absurdity. As such argu- 
 ments are usually advanced by such persons as are not 
 really convinced by them, but who must say something, 
 
138 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 they are .jot likely to convince any one else. If they 
 arc answered by really strong arguments, they will 
 have no force with the candid, and to others the most 
 uccessful refutation will be of small account, for 
 
 " One convinced against his will, 
 Is of the same opinion still." 
 
 (6) Accessible Authorities. It is generally best 
 to use only those authorities which are accessible tc 
 the class addressed. Appeals to writers in other 
 languages and to unknown philosophers will have very 
 little weight, if the opponent chooses to deny that the 
 citations apply. People holding different views from 
 those maintained suspect subtlety when a reasoner sets 
 aside the received translation of the Scriptures, and 
 attempts to expound the original. However necessary 
 this may be in order to arrive at truth, this procedure 
 js looked upon as a resort of one whose views are not 
 confirmed by the received version, but who can wrest 
 the original to his purpose without the risk of detec- 
 tion. None but recognized scholars are safe in attempts 
 of this kind, and even they are less liable to miscon- 
 struction when they are addressing those competent to 
 understand their exposition. These remarks are not 
 so fully applicable to those who are addressing persons 
 who are already convinced. 
 
 (7) Place for Answering Objections, Whately 
 
 advises placing the answer of objections in the middle 
 of the argument, but nearer the beginning than the 
 end. He says on this point : "If indeed very strong 
 objections have obtained much currency, or have been 
 just stated by an opponent, so that what is asserted 
 is likely to be regarded tispiini'loxic.-al, it may be ad vis- 
 
LAWS OF IDEA. 13& 
 
 able to begin with a refutation ; but when this is not 
 the case, the mention of objections in the opening will 
 be likely to give a paradoxical air to our assertion, by 
 implying a consciousness that much may be said againsl 
 it. If again all mention of objections be deferred to 
 the last, the arguments will often be listened to with 
 prejudice by those who may suppose us to be overlook- 
 ing what may be urged on the other side. Sometimes 
 indeed it will be difficult to give a satisfactory refuta- 
 tion of the opposed opinions, till we have gone through 
 the arguments in support of our own ; even in that 
 case, however, it will be better to take some brief no- 
 tice of them early in the composition, with a promise 
 of afterwards considering them more fully, and refut- 
 ing them."* 
 
 Rhetoric. Part I, Chap iii. g 7. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 LAWS OF FORM 
 
BOOK III. LAWS OF FORM. 
 1. The Importance of Method. 
 
 IF the principles of style were derived by a more 
 philosophical method, there would be fewer sympa- 
 thizers with the satiric fling of Hudibras, 
 
 " For all a rhetorician's rules 
 Teach nothing but to name his tools/ 
 
 The chief reason why so small a value is attached 
 to precepts of style is, that they savor too much of 
 arbitrary statement in pedantic forms, of which many 
 are ignorant who are practical masters of the art of 
 expression. There is a lack of scientific analysis and 
 co-ordination in both methods and precepts. As a 
 consequence there is a prevalent skepticism concerning 
 the value of rhetorical studies. The fact that a pas- 
 sage is pleasing does not entitle it to legislate for all 
 similar compositions. It must first be shown why it is 
 pleasing, and wliat in it is pleasing. We must not sup- 
 pose that a form of expression is good because it has 
 fortuitously been made the medium of revealing a 
 noble sentiment, or an original thought. Scientific 
 analysis must so dissect its specimens as to show 
 whether it is the idea or the form which delights us, 
 and luliy it delights us. We Have been taught that 
 "figures of speech are ornamental " and "impart vi- 
 vacity to the expression." Writers on style have 
 classified figures by imposing upon us a cumbrous 
 and useless nomenclature, but seldom explain ivhy 
 they contribute force to language. The truths dog- 
 matically embodied in such rules as "Use short sei> 
 
144 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 tences," " Avoid long parentheses/' "Use Saxon rather 
 than Latin words/' would gain a new power over our 
 minds if they were derived from fundamental prin- 
 ciples of mind and language, and grouped according to 
 a scientific ordination. As the law of gravitation, so 
 simple and yet so important, explains all the phe- 
 nomena of celestial motion, so there must be some 
 principle underlying the effects of language upon the 
 mind, some general law of expression, which will 
 explain the phenomena of style. 
 2. The Process of Interpreting a Sentence. 
 
 As a general law must be operative in every sen- 
 tence, we must expect to find such a law in what is 
 most central and necessary in converting a sentence 
 into thought, or interpreting its meaning. In this 
 process we perform certain acts and have certain feel- 
 ings. These acts are as follows. 
 
 (1) Exercise of Preservative Power, In the 
 
 communication of a word, something from without is 
 obtruded upon the attention through the external 
 senses. The mind is, however, occupied with its own 
 processes. If those processes are very absorbing, as in 
 persons given to abstraction and deep reflection, the at- 
 tention is not readily attracted. If the processes are of 
 small subjective interest, as generally in young and non- 
 reflecting persons, a very slight cause is sufficient to at- 
 tract the attention ; but, for this very reason, it cannot 
 be long retained. From these facts it is evident tha 
 the perception of a sight or sound is an act of the mind 
 requiring the exercise of its powers. When we rend 
 or hear a sentence, a certain amount of presentative 
 power is necessary to put its separate elements before 
 the mind. 
 
LAWS OF FORM". 145 
 
 (2) Exercise of Conservative Power. Language, 
 
 written or spoken, depends upon time. When we look 
 at a picture, the eye receives simultaneously rays from 
 ftl I points of its surface, and these form a single image, 
 which the mind receives as one. When we read or 
 hear a sentence, the mind receives through the eye or 
 car certain signs of ideas, not simultaneously, but iu 
 succession. Supposing each word to suggest to the 
 mind a distinct conception, as it must to be of any 
 value to the sentence, the conception conveyed by the 
 first word receives a modification from every additional 
 word. The mind must put forth a new effort with 
 every added syllable, to perceive it and introduce it tc 
 the attention. At the same time it must hold the 
 syllables already perceived for comparison and union 
 Arith those that follow. Here is a duplex act of. mem- 
 ory : first, to recall the significance of each word as it 
 is perceived ; and, secondly, to retain both the sign and 
 the thing signified until the period is ended, so that all 
 the modifications may be made. Here is an expendi- 
 ture of conservative power. 
 
 (3) Exercise of Representative Power. As the 
 
 jsigns of thought are introduced into the mind they, if 
 familiar, readily suggest, or, if strange, totally fail to 
 suggest, that which they are designed to represent. 
 Imagination, by its magical power, combines these iso- 
 lated fragments of ideas into complete wholes. Here 
 is another expenditure of power, a representative 
 power, we may almost call it an architectural power, 
 framing together materials which another mind has cut 
 and fitted, so as to construct within our own conscious- 
 ness the edifice which another has first built in his. 
 
 (!) Exercise of Realizing Power. The mind IB 
 
 7 
 
146 THE SCIENCE OF EHETOKIC. 
 
 now in possession of the idea as a whole, or, more 
 strictly, of its own conception of the idea meant to be 
 expressed.' Three distinct acts have been performed, 
 and yet the mind is not assured of the truth or falsity 
 of the statement. In order to decide this, the assertion 
 must be compared with the stock of ideas previously 
 acquired by experience or instruction. If the imago 
 presented in the sentence be designed to arouse emo- 
 tion, the conception must be contemplated, in order to 
 elicit the desired feeling. These two processes, com- 
 paring and contemplating, require n new expenditure 
 of power, which we may call the power of realization. 
 
 3. Deduction of the General Law of Style. 
 
 (1) Economy of Interpreting Power. The inter- 
 pretation of a sentence requires an expenditure of men- 
 tal power, and the realization of the idea demands the 
 use of more. Since the mind possesses but a limited 
 amount of power at any one time available, it is clear 
 that the more we expend in interpreting a sentence, 
 i. e., in translating it into thought, the less we have 
 available for realizing the idea. But realization is the 
 end of communication -; hence the less power required 
 to interpret a sentence, the more excellent it is as a 
 mode of expression. 
 
 (2) Economy of the Feelings. But, apart from 
 
 the effect of the idea upon the feelings, the form of 
 expression produces an effect. If a beautiful idea is 
 expressed in harsh and rude words, it is plain that the 
 resultant feeling will be less agreeable in proportion te 
 the amount of sensitive power wasted on the form of 
 words. In other terms, if ten represent the degree of 
 t<l miration which the idea by itself is capable of ex- 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 14? 
 
 citing, and three the degree of aversion which the 
 words excite, the resultant feeling of admiration will 
 be only seven-tenths of what it would be if the form of 
 words did not detract from it. Hence the necessity of 
 economizing the power of feeling. 
 
 (3) Summary. To sum up our results, we find as 
 the prominent fact of our analysis, that the interpreta- 
 tlon of language requires acts and produces feelings. 
 Each of these acts and feelings requires the exercise of 
 power. The mind possesses at any one moment but a 
 limited amount of available power. The object of ex- 
 pression is the realization of ideas. This realization 
 also requires an exercise of power. Since the power of 
 the mind is divided bet ween interpretation and realiza- 
 tion, the most general law of style is : 
 
 THAT FORM OF LANGUAGE is MOST EXCELLENT 
 
 WHICH YIELDS ITS CONTAINED IDEA WITH THE LEAST 
 EXPENDITURE OF MENTAL POWER. 
 
 The simplicity of this law does not diminish its 
 value, for it is neither more simple nor more general 
 tnan Aristotle's dictum .in Logic. A comparative 
 statement of the law is necessary, since no style can be 
 absolutely perfect. Any form of expression requires 
 the expenditure of some power. As in machinery per- 
 fection consists in reducing the friction to the mini- 
 mum, not in annihilating it, which is impossible, so in 
 expression the highest attainable excellence is but 
 relative. 
 
 4. Apparent Exceptions. 
 
 (1) Intentional Obscurity. There are occasions 
 when the design is to obscure the sense. This is the 
 case when one is compelled tc speak and desires to con- 
 
148 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 coal his real sentiments ; when time is to be occupied 
 in discussing a question upon which one has little tc 
 gay, and yet does not wish to appear to wander from 
 liis subject ; when, as in the Delphian oracles, two in- 
 terpretations are intentionally made possible so that 
 unknown occurrences may not furnish contradictions ; 
 where one aims to appear profound when perspicuity 
 would reveal his superficiality. Of such a composer 
 Pope says : 
 
 " Of darkness visible so much he lent, 
 As half to show, half veil the deep intent." 
 
 (2) Excessive Perspicuity. Complaint is some- 
 times made against language being too perspicuous, as 
 when a writer presents a plain thought in an infinite 
 number of lights. In such cases the complaint is im- 
 properly directed, for it lies more against the thought 
 than against the style. To such a writer we might 
 apply, with Campbell, Bassanio's description of Grati- 
 ano's conversation : 
 
 " He speaks an infinite deal of nothing. His rea- 
 sons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of 
 chaff ; you shall seek all day ere you find them ; 
 and when you have them they are not worth the 
 search. " 
 
 While, then, for exceptional and generally unwor- 
 thy purposes, it may be desirable to overtax the inter- 
 preting powers, in order to diminish the power of re- 
 alization, true excellence of style consists in the 
 strictest economy of them. Our object is not to show 
 how style may be made usefully bad, but why it it 
 good. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 149 
 
 6. The Composer's Powers not to be 
 
 Economized, 
 
 Our general law of style regards the economy ol 
 mental power on the part of the interpreter as the great 
 aim of expression. It should not be supposed that the 
 composer's powers are to be economized. He who 
 would attain perfect clearness and accuracy of expres- 
 sion must be prodigal of his own powers, and so use 
 them as to leave the least possible labor to the inter- 
 preter. It may be useful to remember that all the 
 confessed masters of expression have been lavish of 
 their toil. The aspirant after literary honors should 
 recollect that Demosthenes spent three months toiling 
 by a dim lamp in a subterranean study, while elaborat- 
 ing and retouching a single oration ; that Virgil pro- 
 nounced the " ^Eneid " imperfect, after eleven years oi 
 labor on it ; that Tasso's manuscript was almost ille- 
 gible with corrections ; that Pascal sometimes spent 
 twenty days on a single one of those famous " Provincial 
 Letters" which even Voltaire called "one of the best 
 books ever published in France." 'Nor should it be 
 forgotten, on the other hand, that the nameless multi- 
 tude of those whom oblivion has buried were too indo- 
 lent or too hasty " to file off the mortal part of glow- 
 ing thought with Attic art." 
 
 6. Division of the Subject. 
 
 The general law of style at which we have arrived 
 is a Universal principle by which to test expression, and 
 from which all the minor laws of form may be deduced. 
 The work before us is simply to apply this general law to 
 the specific cases which may arise, and to show how in 
 
150 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 each case mental power may be economized. The laws 
 of form will therefore be stated in the following divis- 
 ions ; (1) the economy of interpreting power in PLAIN 
 language; (2) the economy of interpreting power in 
 FIGURATIVE language ; and (3) the economy of the 
 
 FEELINGS. 
 
THE ECONOMY OF INTERPRETING POWER 
 IN PLAIN LANGUAGE. 
 
 1. The Conditions of Sentential Structure. 
 
 WE arc brought face to face with the most difficult 
 problems of style when we consider the nature of a 
 sentence. Our embarrassment is increased by the fact 
 that most of the text-book statements about the sen- 
 tence totally miss the real difficulty of its mechanism. 
 Before we attempt to define the laws of sentential 
 structure, let us pause to examine the conditions upon 
 which they depend. 
 
 (1) The Time-relation. Words convey ideas in 
 
 lime, and a conception can be obtained from language 
 only by successive increments. Since a proposition is 
 neither true nor of any force to the mind until it is 
 completed, this time-relation presses a claim to con- 
 densation. Hence the maxim, "Brevity is the soul of 
 wit.'' For if it require several seconds to effect the 
 revelation of a single idea, the beginning is lost before 
 the end is reached, and but a fragment of the idea is 
 conveyed. 
 
 (2) The Truth-relation. But condensation to the 
 last degree can be attained only by the omission of the 
 qualifying words and clauses which explicate the idea 
 
152 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 The time -relation is, therefore, constantly drawing us 
 into general and hence in exact statements. The truth- 
 relation, however, urges in the opposite direction, de- 
 manding the insertion of limitations and exceptions. 
 In the affairs of daily life, general statements are seldom 
 true. In mathematics general statements prevail ; 
 hence the brevity and logical simplicity of geometrical 
 theorems. 
 
 2. The Style of Legal Acts. 
 
 In legal acts, innumerable qualifications and limita- 
 tions are needed, in order to make the statement strictly 
 represent the intention of the law-maker. "Instead 
 of laying down a general proposition, which is partially 
 false until it has received its proper restraints, the 
 framer of the act endeavors to evade even this mo- 
 mentary falsehood by coupling the restraints with the 
 very primary enunciation of the truth : e. g. A shall be 
 entitled, provided always that he is under the circum- 
 stances of e, or i, or o, to the right of X. Thus even a 
 momentary compliance with the false notion of an ab- 
 solute unconditional claim to JTis evaded." * Embar- 
 rassed by the confusion resulting from this endless in- 
 volution of limitations, so acute a lawyer and compe- 
 tent a scholar as Mr. Pitt confessed that he was lost in 
 a labyrinth of clauses, so that he could not understand 
 what the law allowed, and what it prohibited. 
 
 3. National Types of Style. 
 
 The tendency to yield to one or the other of these 
 opposing influences, time and truth, marks the distinc- 
 tion of national styles of writing. 
 
 * De Quincey. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 153 
 
 (1) The German Style. -The Germans, a race ot 
 patient thinkers, are controlled chiefly by the truth- 
 relation in the construction of sentences. Mr. Do 
 Quincey thus describes a German sentence : 
 
 "Every German regards a sentence in the light of 
 a package, and a package not for the mail-coach, but 
 for the wagon, into which his privilege is to crowd as 
 much as he possibly can. Having framed a sentence, 
 therefore, he next proceeds to pack it, which is ef- 
 fected partly by unwieldy tails and codicils, but chiefly 
 by enormous parenthetic involutions. All qualifica- 
 tions, limitations, exceptions, illustrations, are stuffed 
 and violently rammed into the bowels of the principal 
 proposition. That all this equipage of accessories is 
 not so arranged as to assist its own orderly develop- 
 ment, no more occurs to a German as any fault, than 
 that in a package of shawls or carpets, the colors and 
 patterns are not fully displayed. To him it is sufficient 
 that they are there. And Mr. Kant, when he has suc- 
 ceeded in packing up a sentence which covers three 
 closely printed octavo pages, stops to draw his breath 
 with the air of one who looks back upon some brilliant 
 and meritorious performance." 
 
 (2) The French Style, The French, on the other 
 hand, a quick, impatient people, are most influenced 
 by the time-relation. The result is an almost monot- 
 onous brevity of sentences. "A long or involved sen- 
 tence," says the critic last quoted, "could not be pro- 
 luced from French literature, though a sultan should 
 offer his daughter in marriage to the man who should 
 find it." 
 
 (3) The English Style. As the mixture of Nor- 
 man-French and Teutonic blood gives an intermediite 
 
 7* 
 
154 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 character to the English people, so the average Er.glish 
 sentence lies midway between the extremes. The tend- 
 ency, under the influence of German literature, is to- 
 ward a Teutonic length and involution. 
 
 4. The Equilibrium of these Forces. 
 
 The most frequently recurring and perplexing prob- 
 lem of style is, to adjust the equilibrium between these 
 two forces, the contracting and the expanding. Con- 
 densing the sentence too much, we violate truth by 
 omitting details and ignoring limitations. Expanding 
 too much, we render the interpretation of the sentence 
 impossible by forcing upon the mind more labor than 
 it can perform. A reader may, indeed, recur to the 
 beginning, if he be conscious of failing to grasp the 
 thought fully, while a hearer has not this privilege. 
 On this account, the expansion of sentences is more 
 allowable when they are written than when they are 
 spoken ; but readers generally are not willing to read 
 a sentence more than once. Hence the habit of " read- 
 ing short," i. e., of pitching upon terms instead of fol- 
 lowing out propositions. Many persons read as Mr. 
 Dickens makes Alfred Jingle talk, selecting the 
 aouns and adjectives, and neglecting everything else. 
 Even when a reader notes every word, he is often un- 
 conscious of how much he misses. 
 
 The opposition of these two forces creates a diffi- 
 culty in style which cannot be wholly removed, but 
 which may be diminished. The problem is, then, not 
 how to annihilate the difficulty, but how to reduce it 
 to its minimum. This must be done by a judicious 
 balance of the claims of the time and the truth re- 
 lations. 
 
LAWS OP FORM. 165 
 
 5. Division of the Subject. 
 
 We have then to inquire, on what do eco. oniy of 
 Lime and fullness of meaning depend ? EcoLomy of 
 time obviously depends on (1) the length of words, an 1 
 (2) their number. Fullness of meaning depends on (1) 
 khv familiarity, (2) the inclusion, (3) the implication, 
 (4) the position of words, and (5) the relation of each 
 word to the idea as a whole. It will be observed that 
 length, familiarity, inclusion, and implication, are 
 properties of single words, while their number, position 
 and relation have reference to words in combination. 
 Since these are all the properties possessed by words 
 either singly or in combination affecting either time or 
 truth, it is plain that we shall most easily and accu- 
 rately discover the requirements of expression by 
 finding in what manner each property is related to the 
 general law of style, the economy of mental power. 
 \Ve proceed, therefore, to consider (1) DICTION, or 
 the Choice of Words, and (2) SENTENCES, or the Com- 
 bination of Words. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 DICTION, OR THE CHOICE OF WORDS. 
 
 L FAMILIARITY. 
 
 1. Reasons for Familiarity. 
 
 The first essential of any sign used to convey an 
 idea, is that the sign be recognized as representing a 
 certain object, act or relation. Upon our familiarity 
 with a word all its value as a sign of an idea depends. 
 
156 TE SCIENCE OF RHETOKIC. 
 
 We can, indeed, sometimes guess the meaning of a 
 sentence when only a part of the words are known. 
 The fact that all strange words are of little or no value 
 to the communication of an idea, is shown by our ex 
 perience in learning a foreign language. When wt 
 know only a few words, the page means almost nothing 
 to us ; when we learn the meaning of a few more, the 
 sense begins to dawn : but when we attach the true 
 meaning to all, the idea is caught as the eye passes 
 over the page. Apart from the signification, famil- 
 iarity has much to do with our power to put the form 
 of the word before the mind. Beginners in a foreign 
 language confound similar forms, and find great diffi- 
 culty in pronouncing names. A strange word taxes 
 every mental power, as may be seen by experiment. 
 The sentence, " He approached with the utmost frai- 
 cheur" would be unintelligible to most English readers. 
 They would be compelled to pause painfully and fruit- 
 lessly upon it, and finally leave it without deriving its 
 content. 
 
 2. Aristotle's Opinion. 
 
 Aristotle defends the use of strange words, and 
 especially the use of words in new senses, for ornament. 
 He says in his "Rhetoric," "Men are affected in re- 
 spect to style, in the very same way as they are toward 
 foreigners and citizens. On which account you should 
 give your phrase a foreign air ; for men are admirers 
 of things out of the way, and what is an object of ad- 
 miration is pleasant." * If admiration be the end of 
 writing, Aristotle's advice should be followed ; but 
 since men understand and confide in their own coun 
 
 * Rhetoric, B. IIL C. ii. 2, 3. 
 
LAW3 OF FORM. 157 
 
 trymcn more readily than foreigners, there is a stronger 
 reason for rejecting strange words. Aristotle himself 
 says in his " Poetic/' " Foreign, metaphorical and orna- 
 mental words will cause diction to be neither vulga: 
 nor mean ; but proper [familiar] words produce per- 
 spicuity." * He still more clearly states the effect of 
 familiar words : " Words of ordinary use, and in their 
 original application, and metaphors, are alone available 
 in the style of prose ; a proof that this is a fact is, that 
 these are the only words which all persons employ ; for 
 everybody carries on conversation by means of meta- 
 phors, and words in their primary sense, and those of 
 ordinary use." f This, he adds, conduces to clearness, 
 and he has defined excellence of style as consisting in 
 its being clear. 
 
 3. The Barbarism. 
 
 Opposed to familiarity is the barbarism. A word may 
 oc a barbarism because of its relation to time or to place. 
 
 (1) Barbarisms from Time. The first class in- 
 cludes words not familiar to the generation to which 
 the writer belongs. These are (1) obsolete words, or 
 such as were once in good use, but have ceased to be 
 living constituents of the language ; and (2) newly 
 coined words, or such as have not received the sanction 
 of time. Pope has formulated the rhetorical law on 
 kL:s subject in this well-known stanza : 
 
 " In words as fashions the same rule will hold, 
 Alike fantastic if too new or old : 
 Be not the first by whom the new are tried, 
 Nor yet the last to lay the old aside." \ 
 
 Poetic, xxii, 3. f Rhetoric, B. III. 0. ii. fc 
 
 J Essay on Criticism, Part I. 
 
158 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 (2) Barbarisms from Place. The barbarism em- 
 braces also words which are not familiar in all places 
 where the language is written. These are (1) foreign 
 words, which the semi-educated are always introducing 
 into their writings and conversation, as a proof of their 
 learning ; (2) provincialisms, often unconsciously used 
 !>y those who suppose their local terms to be generally 
 known to those who speak the same language ; and (3) 
 technical terms belonging to special arts and sciences. 
 
 4. When Barbarisms are Allowable. 
 
 (1) Dialectic Compositions. A proper exception 
 to the principle of avoiding foreign and local expres- 
 sions is found in dialectic composition, where the ob- 
 ject is to illustrate the peculiarities of speech, or to 
 render a character consistent with his surroundings. 
 
 (2) Technical Persons. The use of technical terms 
 contributes to clearness and accuracy when they are 
 addressed to those who are familiar with them. The 
 very fact that a word is technical excludes from it a 
 host of irrelevant associations usually conveyed by com- 
 mon words, and so renders it more precise. Dr. 
 Campbell says of them, "In strict propriety, technical 
 words should not be considered as belonging to the 
 language ; because not in current use, nor understood 
 by the generality even of readers."* Mr. Marsh ob- 
 serves on the representation of technical characters : 
 "It is better that a character in a play should use 
 professional phrases, by way of indicating his occupa- 
 tion, than that he should tell the audience in set worde 
 
 ' I am a merchant, a physician, or a lawyer,' but aftet 
 
 * Campbell's Philosophy of Rhetoric. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 159 
 
 all, considered as a, representation of the actual lan- 
 guage of life, it is a violation of truth of costume to 
 rram with technical words the conversation of a tech 
 aical man." * 
 
 5. The Law of Use. 
 
 Horace declared use to be the law and rule of speak- 
 .ug. Dr. Campbell has discussed this criterion of 
 speech with great judgment. His essay on the subject 
 is worthy of universal attention, f He defines author- 
 itative usage to be, 
 
 I. Reputable) or the practice of intelligent and 
 educated writers ; 
 
 II. National) as opposed to provincial and foreign 
 
 III. Present) or the usage of the generation in which 
 one lives. 
 
 6. The Formation of New Words. 
 
 New ideas require the formation of new words. 
 All verbal innovations, however, have not the same 
 justification. Horace defines the proper occasion of 
 coining words in these lines : 
 
 " If you write of things abstruse or new, 
 Some of your own inventing may be used. 
 So it be seldom and discreetly done." { 
 
 If words must be coined, it should be "discreetly 
 done,' 7 so that they shall conform to the established 
 usage of the language, both as to their sources and the 
 union of their elements. This is what Horace mean* 
 u these lines : 
 
 * Lectures on the English Language. 
 
 f Philosophy of Rhetoric, Book II., Chap. L 
 
 $ liosconiinon's Translation. 
 
160 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 " An undisputed power 
 Of coining money from the rugged ore, 
 Nor less of coining words, is still confest, 
 If vpith a legal public stamp imprest." * 
 
 Quin tilian disfavors all verbal innovations. U I1 
 the new word is well received," says he, "small is the 
 glory ; if rejected, it raises laughter." f 
 
 II. LENGTH. 
 
 1. Disadvantages of Jjong Words, 
 
 (1) Difficulty of Perceiving them, Another qual- 
 ity of words which deserves attention in their selection 
 is length. Whether addressed to the eye or to the ear, 
 long words require more effort to present them to the 
 mind for cognition than short ones. If they are ad- 
 dressed to the eye, the mind must pass through a process 
 of syllabication, in order to distinguish them from other 
 forms but slightly different. This is, doubtless, an 
 almost unconscious process with those who are accus- 
 tomed to read much, but it is illustrated in the efforts 
 of those who are beginning. Two words very nearly 
 alike can be distinguished only by attention to the dif- 
 ferentiating letter or letters, and this attention is 
 necessary upon each syllable. If the word is addressed 
 to the car, the same is true, with only a slight differ- 
 ence. Every polysyllabic word has one primary accent 
 which gives unity to the word, forcing upon the atten- 
 tion by a vocal stress one syllable which serves as a 
 nucleus around which other syllables hang as mere 
 appendages. The syllables which are subordinate it 
 
 * Francis* Translation. f Institutes, I, 5 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 161 
 
 sound are not always subordinate in sense. In the 
 word demonstrate) the specific meaning is determined, 
 not by the accented syllable, but by a single letter la 
 the very subordinate syllable de, and is distinguished 
 from that of remonstrate only by the initial letter, d, 
 instead of r Most polysyllabic words have several 
 phonetic analogues from which they are distinguished 
 only by a subordinate syllable. It is evident, there 
 fore, that they do not economize the power of percep- 
 tion as much as short words. 
 
 (2) Difficulty of Remembering them. They often 
 prove too much for the memory also, and thus render 
 it impossible for the other interpreting powers to act, 
 since there is nothing definite for them to act upon. 
 Every one is sensible of this in reading, or in listening 
 to a speech. We may overcome the difficulties pre- 
 sented to the mind by one or two long words in a sen- 
 tence, but when they are piled up in Johnsonian pro- 
 fusion, although we may be familiar with each separate 
 word, in their aggregate they are too heavy for the mind 
 to carry ; they drop out one by one in the progress of the 
 sentence, and at its close we are unable to say whether 
 the proposition is true or false. 
 
 2. Advantages of Long Words. 
 
 (1) Sound and Sense. While long words are less 
 easily interpreted than short ones, there are grounds 
 for their moderate use. Majesty is so connected with 
 magnitude that the length of the word is often natu- 
 rally suggestive of the grandeur of the conception, while 
 little words connect pettiness with the thought. There 
 is an " eternal fitness " in the adaptation of the length 
 of words to the sense ; of which Pope says : 
 
162 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 " A vile conceit in pompous words express'd 
 Is like a clown in regal purple dress'd ; 
 For different styles witli different subjects sort, 
 As several garbs with country, town and court " * 
 
 (2) Actual Economy. A more important consul 
 eration is, that long words often express what couM IK- 
 otherwise expressed only by a still longer compound, or 
 an awkward circumlocution. It is, doubtless, simpler 
 and more intelligible to say, " the expansibility of gas/' 
 than to say, the "power of gas to be made to fill a 
 greater space;" or, " the indestructibility of matter," 
 than, " the want of power in matter to be put out of 
 being." But long Words are often used not so much 
 on account of their expressiveness, as from ostentation. 
 They give a sonorous fullness to empty thoughts, and 
 an outward majesty to vulgar sentiments. Beranger,f 
 in one of his songs, not unhappily compares preten 
 tious expressions to a big, gaudily dressed drum-major 
 and those of modest simplicity to the quiet little Napo- 
 leon at Austerlitz, clad in his plain gray coat. There 
 is much force in this comparison, and the growing ten- 
 dency to use "long- tailed words in -osity and -ation" 
 merely for the sake of using them, shows a lamentable 
 deficiency of good taste and good sense. 
 
 3. Value of Saxon Illustrated from 
 Literature. 
 
 Even the redemptive feature of their exquisitely 
 musical arrangement and almost unequaled imagery, 
 lias not preserved such writers as Sir Thomas Browne 
 and Jeremy Taylor from neglect by a generation ol 
 
 * Essay on Criticism, Part II. 
 | Quoted by R. G. Wbite, in Words and their Uses 
 
 f 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 163 
 
 readers who are unwilling to trace out such words as, 
 " amorevalezza," " illaqueation," " immarcescible," 
 a^d " salertiousness." Writers must pay the penalty 
 of thoir ambition for " eigh teen-inch words/' as Hor- 
 ace calls them, for the age is impatient with glossaries. 
 The experience of writers and the philosophy of men- 
 tal action confirm the observation of Lord Stanley, that 
 " it is the plain Saxon phrase far more than any term 
 be rrowed from Greek or Latin literature that, whether 
 iii speech or writing, goes straightest and strongest to 
 ^nen's heads and hearts." Yet it is not because words 
 are Saxon that they are forceful ; it is rather because 
 they are centers of significance without useless syllabic 
 appendages. A Latin term is as expressive as any other 
 if it be brief and familiar and well charged with mean 
 ing. It is fashionable to decry all words of Latin origin, 
 but, as Sir Francis Palgrave has said of our language, 
 "the warp may be Anglo-Saxon, but the woof is Ko- 
 man as well as the embroidery, and these foreign ma- 
 terials have so entered into the texture, that, were they 
 plucked out, the web would be torn to rags, unraveled 
 and destroyed." * While, therefore, Saxon terms are 
 often preferable on account of their brevity, Latin de- 
 rivatives are not to be despised. 
 
 III. INCLUSION. 
 1. Definition and Forms of Inclusion. 
 
 By the inclusion of words is meant the extent of 
 their application to objects, not with reference to their 
 numbers, but their kind. Thus stone includes several 
 
 * History of Normandy and England, Vol. I. 
 
 
164 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC 
 
 hundred species, as trap, limestone, quartz, etr., while 
 vnyx includes only stones of a single kind. AY hen we 
 remember that a sign which stands for, or includes, a 
 gnat variety of things is as likely to suggest one as 
 another of them, the question of inclusion becomes of 
 the greatest importance to the economy of interpreting 
 power. 
 
 With reference to their inclusion, words may be 
 divided into three classes : (1) those which refer to 
 things as members of a species or of a genus, or Specific 
 and Ge n eral Words; (2) those which, without a change 
 of form, stand for entirely different classes of things, 
 or Homonyms ; and (3) those which closely resemble 
 other words, or Analogues. We shall consider these 
 three classes separately. 
 
 2. Specific and General Words. 
 
 (1) Difference between Specific and Genera. 
 Words. We say very different things in the sentences, 
 " Each star is poised on the finger of God ;" and 
 "Every heavenly body is held in the hand of the Di- 
 vine Being ;" yet, the two ideas are not so remote from 
 each other that the one could not be put for the other. 
 The general idea is the same in each, but the one is 
 specific, the other general. In the first, the statement 
 applies to the stars alone ; in the second, to all the 
 heavenly bodies. In the first, -we specify the finger ; 
 in the second the hand. In the first, God stands 
 out as an unclassified and supreme personality ; in the 
 second, He is classed among beings, and distinguished 
 only by the attribute of divinity. The diffeience be- 
 tween the two propositions does not lie in any figura- 
 tive quality, for the figure is of the same kind in each 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 165 
 
 Yet, the former is plainly the more strikir.^ Xoiiu of 
 expression. On what ground is the iirst more impres- 
 sive : The answer is obvious : the first is more spc- 
 cific. Tlie word "star" instantly suggests a definite 
 image; but "every heavenly body" is vague, since it 
 includes sun,, moon, and stars, and to an educated 
 mind, comets and meteors. " Poised" presents to the 
 mind a specific kind of holding, while " held" is capa 
 ble of a number of specific senses, between which the 
 mind is at a loss which to choose. "Finger " points 
 out the exact part of the hand, while "hand" having 
 a great number of parts, suggests a complex conception. 
 " God" suggests all that the mind has associated with 
 that specific name, as representing a person ; while 
 "Divine Being " is a more diffused notion. Divesting 
 the sentence entirely of its specific character, and put- 
 ting the conception in a still more general form, we 
 have, " All things are sustained by divine power ; " 
 which is so general as not to present any image to the 
 mind, and makes very little impression upon us. 
 
 (2) Eeasons for the Superior Force of Specific 
 
 Expressions. The more specific a statement, the less 
 mental power is required to put it before the mind for 
 cognition. The tendency of philosophic minds is to 
 generalize, to reduce all truth to a formula which shall 
 be the concentrated expression of the whole. The 
 difficulty which the human mind has experienced in 
 arriving at any such formula, and the conflicting 
 notions of men. in all ages with respect to the truth or 
 falsity of abstract statements, are sufficient evidence ol 
 the obstacles to be overcome in interpreting such forms 
 of expression. Generic names offer the amplest oppor- 
 tunity for sophistry, because what may be true of some 
 
166 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 members of a class may not be true of other membera 
 of the same class. The Writer may have in mind one 
 subdivision of a class of which his affirmation is true 
 while the generic name may suggest to his reado* 
 another subdivision of the class of which the affirma- 
 tion^ not true. To many minds not habituated to 
 abstract thought, abstract terms suggest no ideas what- 
 ever, but men of all grades of intelligence know the 
 names of specific objects, acts, and relations, and these 
 are at once suggested by the appropriate sign. It is 
 not true that the imagination is more severely taxed 
 by specific and concrete than by general and abstract 
 terms. A dog, a horse, a house, or the moon is pre- 
 sented for cognition on the canvas of the imagination 
 as soon as the verbal sign denoting it is uttered. Terms 
 like animal, building, and heavenly orb are much more 
 taxing on the powers, since they involve the presenta- 
 tion to the mind, not of a thing, an act, or a relation, 
 but of a conception which has no correlative in the 
 actual world, but which is made up of qualities taken 
 from all the individuals of the class which we have ever 
 seen. Scarcely any uneducated man can define the 
 word animal. He will almost certainly exclude man 
 and bird and fish ; he will be sure to exclude oyster 
 and, possibly, he tfill represent all animals as having 
 four legs. 
 
 The use of specific terms, when possible, obviates 
 much of the difficulty in the interpreting mind, not 
 exacting of it a laborious and probably futile use of the 
 imagination in presenting for cognition a host of irrele- 
 vant objects, which, if presented, would only embarrass 
 and confuse the mind. 
 
 (3) A Choice of Terms Possible. Those who are 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 167 
 
 fond of regarding language as the incarnation of 
 thoughts, may consider these facts and principles of 
 small value to style, on the ground that, with a given 
 idea to be expressed, a writer has no choice between 
 generic and specific words. On this question of option 
 Dr. Wbately says : 
 
 "It might be supposed at first sight, that an 
 author has little or no choice on this point, but must 
 employ either more or less general terms according to 
 the objects he is speaking of. There is, however, in 
 almost every case, great room for such a choice as we 
 are speaking of ; for, in the first place, it depends on 
 our choice whether or not we will employ terms more 
 general than the subject requires ; which may almost 
 always be done consistently with truth and propriety, 
 though not with energy ; if it be true that a man has 
 committed murder, it may correctly be asserted, that he 
 has committed a crime : if the Jews were ' exterminated ' 
 and ' Jerusalem demolished ' by ' Vespasian's arm}', 7 it 
 may be said, with truth, that they were ' subdued ' by 
 ' an enemy/ and their 'capital ' taken." * 
 
 3. Homonyms. 
 
 (1) Allowable Homonyms. Of not less import- 
 ance, but wholly distinct from the general or specific 
 character of words, is their doi(Memeanin^_ It is an 
 effort to make an economical use of a small verbal cap- 
 ital that causes every language to contain many words 
 with several distinct meanings. They begin, doubtless, 
 in metaphor, but finally cannot be distinguished from 
 plain speech. The use of words in a second or third 
 gense affords very little embarrassment to an intelligent 
 
 * Rhetoric-, Part III. Chap, ii., 1. 
 
168 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 mind, unless the same word appears with more than 
 one sense in the same sentence. The word head ma} 
 mean a part of the body ; a chief or leader ; the large 
 end of anything, as of a nail ; the place where the head 
 should go, as the head of a bed ; the place of command 
 or honor ; the intellect, as distinguished from the feel- 
 ings ; the source, or fountain ; a division of a discourse ; 
 the foam on a pot of beer ; and power, or force, as 
 when Shakespeare says, 
 
 " My lord, iny lord, the French have gathered head." 
 
 We seldom mistake the meaning of such a word in. 
 any of its uses, because the connection suggests the 
 sense. 
 
 (2) AmblgUOUS Homonyms. It is no 1 , so, how- 
 ever, in all cases. Some words signify thins* ^ so nearly 
 alike that we are at a loss to determine whj^h of two 
 are intended. Pope, in his " Essay on Critic ; .sm," uses 
 the word " wit " with at least seven different meanings, 
 and for their shades of distinction we are dependent 
 entirely on the context. 
 
 The worst variety of the fault appears in the use of 
 the same sound or form in more than one sense in the 
 same connection. This is the principle of the pun and 
 the most common form of fallacy. Its more playful 
 bearing is illustrated in the following advertisement of 
 a baker : "The subscriber, knowing that all men need 
 bread, wishes the public to know that he also kneads 
 it ; and he hopes that the best bred people in the city 
 will find him the best bread man." When the double 
 sense is obvious and is playfully intended, it is regarded 
 as a pun, and passes for innocent wit ; but when the 
 true sense is concealed and the coincidence of sound 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 169 
 
 or form misleads the understanding, it is called the 
 fallacy of at/ibiguous middle, and becomes a potent in 
 strument of the sophist. Thus in the syllogism, 
 
 A. plain style is intelligible, 
 
 This is a plain style ; therefore 
 
 This style is intelligible ; 
 
 if in the first premise the word " plain " is used as Dp- 
 posed to obscure, and in the second as opposed to 
 ornamental, the conclusion that the style in question 
 is intelligible may not be correct, for while the absence 
 of obscurity insures intelligibility, the absence of orna- 
 ment does not in any way affect the intelligibility. 
 
 The use of a word which in its connection is capa- 
 ble of more than one meaning either confuses the 
 thought or has no effect upon the mind. In Swift's 
 expression, " A little after the reformation of Luther," 
 if we really think, we shall be in doubt whether the 
 Dean refers to Luther's personal abandonment of Rom- 
 anism, or to the religious revolution of which he was the 
 leading spirit. In the phrase " the love of God," " of" 
 is ambiguous, since the expression may mean God's 
 love to us, or our love to God. 
 
 4. Analogues. 
 
 Words denoting different things, and yet likely to 
 be confounded on account of their resemblance, may 
 be subdivided into two classes : (1) those which are 
 similar in form; and (2) those which are similar io 
 meaning* 
 
 (1) Analogues in Form. Mr. SMllaber has won 
 
 his reputation as a humorist chiefly by his illustrations 
 of the nonsense resulting from the confounding of 
 words which resemble each other in form but not in 
 8 
 
170 THE SCIENCE OF KHETOKIC. 
 
 sense- Mrs. Partington is too well known to require a 
 potation. 
 
 Respectable writers sometimes confound words from 
 trie same radical, but having different meanings ; as 
 falsehood, falseness, ( <m& falsity ; sophism and sophistry* 
 As much often depends on the differential of a word 
 us on its radical, and USE is more important than 
 either. 
 
 (2) Analogues in Meaning. The co-existence of 
 
 two distinct classes of words in English, the Anglo- 
 Saxon and the Gorman- French, gives to our language 
 a bilingual character that often leads writers into error 
 The very richness of the language exposes the careless 
 to a loose expression of thought. Daily and diurnal 
 are to a certain degree interchangeable ; as in " the daily 
 revolution of the earth," and " the diurnal revolution 
 of the earth ; " but we cannot say " our diurnal bread." 
 Usage has appropriated daily to the common affairs of 
 ,ife, and diurnal to astronomical and other scientific 
 descriptions. Eich as our language is in words closely 
 allied in meaning, scarcely two have precisely the same 
 signification. Successful writers have, therefore, been 
 oareful students of synonyms. Usage, " the law and 
 rule of speaking," as Horace calls it, is the supreme 
 authority here, rather than etymology. A departure 
 from the ordinary acceptation of words, however phil- 
 osophical it may seem, is almost sure to present a dilli 
 culty to the interpreting mind. Since language is 
 wholly conventional, one who would master its re- 
 sources must read extensively and critically the best 
 books of his age, and, as much as possible, associate 
 f ( \\ the most cultivated speakers. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 171 
 
 IV. IMP LIG A TION. 
 1. The Effect of Words on Thoughts. 
 
 When Lawrence Sterne exhorted all god-fathers not 
 {i to Nicodemus a man into nothing/' he grasped an 
 important principle of style ; namely, the force of 
 implication^ or what a word may suggest in distinction 
 from what it includes. The influence of names on 
 thoughts is almost magical. Their effect on the sen- 
 sibilities is so powerful that the author who has little 
 to say may lull the mind to soothing slumber by visions 
 of dreamy beauty. The operations of the interpreting 
 powers depend largely on the condition of the sensibili- 
 ties. A man enraptured by sweet music does not pause 
 to work out a problem in the calculus ; and the reader 
 whose sensibilities are touched by joy, love, hate, envy, 
 anger, revenge, or the sense of beauty, is borne on the 
 current of his emotions, and the fancy plays while 
 the reason sleeps. 
 
 2. The Associations of Words, 
 
 Every word is a nucleus around which innumerable 
 associations cluster. The mere mention of a word 
 awakens images, and these images arouse emotion in the 
 mind. Thus a common-place person becomes an object 
 of admiration when classed as a martyr ; a lazy vaga- 
 bond who happens to serve in the army and receive a 
 wound, becomes a glorious being when referred to as 
 a "scarred and war-worn veteran." On the other 
 hand, a diligent scholar sinks into a despicable object 
 when dubbed a "sleepy look-ivorm ;" and the hero of 
 a hundred battles is a hateful thing, when the dema- 
 
172 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 gogue calls him " a bloody tyrant." Such is the p vei 
 of names on thought, and, in the Imnd of a master, 
 they are, by implication alone, potent instruments ir 
 shaping convictions and inspiring actions. 
 
 3. The Utilization of Pre-exerted Energies 
 
 This suggestive use of words owes its power to the 
 general law of style, the economy of mental power. 
 It is an appropriation of previous mental acts. Instead 
 of saying of the king, he did this and that, and there- 
 fore deserves your hatred, we may avail ourselves of 
 the mind's previous operations by which it has come to 
 hate tyranny, and the name tyrant, on the slightest 
 proof, works out sedition. When the implication is 
 manifestly absurd, it passes for sport, and the deeper 
 the implication the merrier the laugh. It is the depth 
 of implication rather than the bread th of inclusion which 
 cuts the school-girl so painfully, when, in a fit of anger 
 her companion calls her a "mean thing." To be a 
 thing is not simply to be divested of one's humanity 
 and reduced to an inanimate object ; but it is implied 
 that whatever is meanest and most detestable in the 
 broad category of things, that is meant, although it is 
 not specified. The force of implication is well illus- 
 trated by Aristotle.* Simonides, when the victor in a 
 mule-race offered him a trifling present to compose a 
 triumphal ode for the occasion, refused to write, as if 
 feeling hurt at being asked to write on " half -asses." 
 Bui when he received a satisfactory present he wrote : 
 
 " Hail 1 Daughters of tlie generous Horse, 
 That skim like wind, along the course;" 
 
 * Rhetoric, Book III. Chap. ii. 14. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 173 
 
 without any allusion to the asinine side of their 
 pedigree. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 SENTENCES, OR COMBINATIONS OP 
 WORDS. 
 
 We are now to consider words in their simplest form 
 I combination, the sentence. We have already indi- 
 cated that this portion of our theme is embraced in 
 three particulars : (1) the NUMBER of words ; (2) their 
 POSITION" with reference to one another ; and (3) their 
 RELATION to the idea as a whole. 
 
 I. THE NUMBER OF WORDS. 
 
 The time-relation of the sentence requires the words 
 to be as few as possible ; the truth-relation demands a 
 sufficient number to explicate clearly the idea. The 
 general luw being, therefore, to use as few words as 
 will adequately express the idea, we have only to con- 
 sider the vrays in which the law is most commonly vi- 
 olated. They are three : (1) by the repetition of the 
 same sensn in different words, or TAUTOLOGY ; (2) by 
 additions not necessary to the sense, or REDUNDANCY; 
 and (3) bj a diffuse mode of expression which may be 
 recast into a, briefer form, or CIRCUMLOCUTION. That 
 these three cases involve an unnecessary expenditure of 
 interpreting power, is self-evident. That they are se- 
 rious pitfahs to intelligent writers, is evident from the 
 instances found in the works of the greatest masters of 
 gtylo. As u ope has said : 
 
 ' Wordf are but leaves, and where they most abound 
 M job iruit of sense beneath is rarely found." 
 
174 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC, 
 
 1. Tautology. 
 
 A biographer of Dr. Johnson's, among other in- 
 stances of " desperate tautology," quotes the famili'ir 
 lines from the imitation of Juvenal : 
 
 " Let observation, with extensive view, 
 Survey mankind from China to Peru ; " 
 
 and maintains, not unjustly, that this is equivalent to, 
 "Let observation with extensive observation observe 
 mankind extensively." This hardly surpasses the in 
 stance of tautology in Addison's Oato : 
 
 " The dawn is overcast, the morning lowers, 
 And heavily in clouds brings in the day, 
 The great, the important day, big with the fate 
 Of Cato and of Rome." 
 
 Dr. Whately thinks that the lack of comprehensive 
 powers in the hearer or reader and the abstruseness of 
 the idea may sometimes justify repetition. He says : 
 " It is remarked by anatomists, that the nutritive 
 quality is not the only requisite in food ; that a certain 
 degree of distension of the stomach is required, to 
 enable it to act with its full powers, and that it is for 
 this reason hay or straw must be given to horses, as 
 well as corn, in order to supply the necessary bulk." * 
 This illustration is both just and ingenious, but it is 
 clear that this " distention " does not require the 
 repetition so much as the analytical and progressive 
 presentation of an idea. If a proposition is skillfully 
 divided into minor ones, and the main truth is un- 
 folded by easy gradations, and each increment of the 
 total idea is presented in a perfectly clear manner, 
 
 * Rhetoric, Part III, Chap. i. 2. 
 
LAWS OF FOKM. 175 
 
 there may be sufficient distenfcion without much 
 repetition. 
 
 2. Redundancy. 
 
 Kedundancy has no excuse. A word which does 
 Dot contribute to unfold the meaning increases uselessly 
 the friction of the interpreting machinery. Thus 
 Addison says, " If he happens to have any leisure upon 
 his hands." Here "upon his hands" is not only un- 
 'necessary, but even suggests a ludicrous idea to one 
 who thinks of " leisure upon the hands." The most 
 common forms of redundancy are those in which the 
 expletives " there " and " being" are used ; as, " There 
 is no one who can," for " No one can ; " and " Being 
 convinced of this," for " Convinced of this." 
 
 The use of epithets is a common form of redun- 
 dancy. In speaking of any thing which has a particular 
 color as an essential attribute, as snow, it is an offense 
 to the intelligence to say the "white snow." "In 
 poetry," says Aristotle, " it is becoming enough to say, 
 ( white milk ;' in prose, however, it is rather bad 
 taste." * When an object may have -one of severer 
 colors, distinctness may be given to the image by speci- 
 fying the color, f Any important characteristic or 
 action may be brought to view by a well chosen 
 epithet. Thus in the lines, 
 
 " The wJieeling plover ceased 
 Her plaint," 
 
 ' wheeling " presents a peculiar motion of the plover, and 
 alao suggests a more beautiful idea than of a bird at rest. 
 
 * Rhetoric, Book III, Chap. iii. 3. 
 
 f According to Whately, (Rhetoric, Part III, Chap. ii. 4 
 such a word would not be an epithet. His sense is peculiar. 
 
i?G THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 Frigidity is the result of a too frequent use of 
 epithets. Aristotle says of Alcidamus, that his writings 
 appear frigid " because he employs epithets not *u 
 the seasoning but as the food." He does not say the 
 sweat, but the moist sweat ; nor that he covered his 
 person, but the nakedness of his person. 
 
 3. Circumlocution. 
 
 Circumlocution is the result of indistinctness or 
 timidity of thought. So good a writer as Lord 
 Brougham has written this vaporous sentence : 
 
 " Among the eminent men who figured in the 
 eventful history of the French Eevolution was M. 
 Talleyrand ; and whether in that scene, or in any 
 portion of modern annals, we shall in vain look fo? 
 one who represents a more interesting subject of 
 history." 
 
 In addition to beating out the sense to the thinnes; 
 possible film, his lordship makes Talleyrand figure in 
 the history instead of the scene, then confounds scene 
 and annals, and, finally, tells us that Talleyrand repre- 
 sents an interesting subject of history. The idea may 
 be more clearly expressed in twenty-four instead of 
 forty-four words : 
 
 Among the eminent characters of the French Eev- 
 olution was M. Talleyrand, and, in modern times, wo 
 shall find no more interesting subject of history. 
 
 Circumlocution is often employed to express deli- 
 cately, and hence vaguely, what one does not wish tu 
 eay plainly. It is in this case an ingenious rhetorical 
 device, but cannot be regarded as a legitimate factoj 
 of a good style. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 17? 
 
 II. THE POSITION OF WORDS. 
 
 The position of words with reference to one another 
 depends on: (1) their individual force ; (2) their 
 modifying effect upon other, words ; and (3) their 
 grammatical relations. What is shown of single words 
 applies also to clauses and phrases, regarded as logical 
 elements of a sentence. 
 
 1. The Individual Force of Words. 
 
 So far as the position of words depends on their in- 
 dividual force, two particulars are to be regarded : (1) 
 their Emphasis ; and (2) their Abstractness. 
 
 (1) Emphasis, Emphasis aims at the economy OA 
 interpreting power by making the emphatic word so 
 prominent as to remove all doubt as to which it is 
 meant to be. This is done by taking the emphatic 
 word out of its natural place in the sentence, and put- 
 ting it where it will be striking because of the novelty 
 of its position. It would be natural to say, "The 
 mystery of godliness is great ;" but, since "great" is 
 the emphatic word, it may be put first, and all can see 
 that emphasis is increased by the form, " Great is the 
 mystery of godliness." So also in, "Great is Diana of 
 the Ephesians;" "Silver and gold have I none;" 
 "Now is the appointed time." It is clear, however, 
 that too frequent use of this principle of emphatic in- 
 version would defeat its own end, since the force of it 
 depends on its novelty, i. e., on its being a departure 
 from the common order. 
 
 (2) Abstractness. The abstractness of words and 
 clauses should also affect their position. There is rea- 
 son to suppose that, apart from their connection, the 
 
 8* 
 
L78 THE SCIEKCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 order of words is as important in the building up of a 
 thought, as the order of incidents is in telling a story, 
 As in a narrative each statement should be such as to 
 carry the mind forward and make the account seem 
 natural at every point, without forcing the mind to 
 hold something as unexplained until something else is 
 added, so in a sentence the sequence of words should be 
 such as to waste no power in building up the thought. 
 Mr. Herbert Spencer has treated the question, what is 
 the natural order of images in thought ? 
 
 (a) He begins by considering the natural order of 
 the adjective and substantive. " Ought we to say with 
 the French un chevalnoir ; or to say as we do a black 
 horse ? Probably, most persons of culture would de- 
 cide that one order is as good as the other. Alive to 
 the bias produced by habit, they would ascribe to that 
 the preference they feel for our own form of expression. 
 They would expect those educated in the use of the 
 opposite form to have an equal preference for that. 
 And thus they would conclude that neither of these 
 instinctive judgments is of any worth. There is, how- 
 ever, a philosophical ground for deciding in favor of 
 the English custom. If a 'horse black' be the ar- 
 rangement, immediately on the utterance of the word 
 'horse,' there arises, or tends to arise, in the mind, a 
 picture answering to that word ; and as there has been 
 nothing to indicate what kind of a horse, any image of 
 a horse suggests itself. Very likely, hoAvever, the im- 
 age will be that of a brown horse ; brown horses being 
 fche most familiar. The result is that when the word 
 ' black ' is added, a check is given to the process of 
 thought Either the picture of a brown horse already 
 present to the imagination has to be suppressed iul 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 179 
 
 the picture of a black one summoned into its place ; 01 
 else, if the picture of a brown horse be yet unformed, 
 the tendency to form it has to be stopped. Whichever 
 is the case, a certain amount of hinderance results. But 
 if, on the other hand, ' a black horse ' be the expression 
 used, no such mistake can be made. The word ; black ' 
 indicating an abstract quality, arouses no definite idea. 
 It simply prepares the mind for conceiving some object 
 of that color ; and the attention is kept suspender 1 un- 
 til that object is known. If, then, by the precedence 
 of the adjective, the idea is conveyed without liability 
 to error, whereas the precedence of the substantive is 
 apt to produce a misconception, it follows that the 
 one gives the mind less trouble than the other, and is 
 therefore more forcible." * 
 
 (b) What, in a general formula, is the order in 
 which the constituent elements of an idea are iuanled 9 
 In reading history, our conception is much more defi- 
 nite if we know when and ivhere the events occurred, 
 Hence, if the word or clause marking the time or place 
 be given first, and the statement of fact afterward, we 
 have a more vivid conception of it. This seems to in- 
 dicate that words referring to time or place should be 
 introduced at the beginning of a sentence. The same 
 precedence, according to Lord Kames, should be given 
 to any attendant circumstance ; for, as he says, "When 
 a circumstance is placed at the beginning of the period, 
 or near the beginning, the transition from it to the 
 principal subject is agreeable ; is like ascending or go- 
 ing upward." f lie explains this fact on the ground 
 that "circumstances arc proper for that coolness of 
 
 * Philosophy of Style. 
 
 f Elements of Criticism, Chap. XVIII. Sec. 2. 
 
18C THE SCIEKOE OF EHETOEIC. 
 
 mind with which we begin a period as well as a yol 
 rme : in the progress, the mind warms, and has a 
 greater relist for matters of importance." "On the 
 other hand, to place it late in the period has a bad ef- 
 fect ; for after being engaged in the principal subject, 
 one is with reluctance brought down to give attention 
 to a circumstance." The principle may be illustrated 
 by a sentence from Swift: "And although they may 
 be, and too often are drawn, by the temptations of 
 youth, and the opportunities of a large fortune, into 
 some irregularities, when they come forward into the great 
 world, it is ever with reluctance and compunction 
 of mind, because their bias to virtue still continues." 
 
 It is better to put the temporal -clause first, thus : 
 "And although, when they come forward into the great 
 world, they may be, and too often are," etc. 
 
 Lord Kames closes his ingenious treatment of this 
 topic with this conclusion : " That order of words in a 
 period will be most agreeable, where, without obscuring 
 the sense, the most important images, the most sonorous 
 words, and the longest members bring up the rear." 
 
 (c) The explanation of this important truth is found 
 n the economy of interpreting power. The mind has 
 power to hold at once but a limited number of words. 
 If the important images and the longest members come 
 ut the beginning, they will be blurred, if not wholly 
 lost, by subsequent attention to accessories. The re- 
 sult will be, that the hearer or reader will miss what is 
 most important unless he increases his effort. Again, 
 conditions of time, place, and circumstance, are more 
 abstract than a simple action or state affirmed. As the 
 mind increases its burden in the progress of the sen- 
 tence, and ctmnot properly lay it aside until the period 
 
I.A.WS OF FORM. 181 
 
 's ended, the mind is less capable of exertion at the 
 close than at the beginning. Hence, if the abstract 
 ideas come at the end, it is compelled to perform its 
 heaviest work, that of realizing abstractions, wher 
 least capable of doing it. The natural order of word* 
 and clauses in a sentence is, therefore, from tlie abstraci 
 to the concrete. It is the abstract nature of the prepo- 
 sition and the adverb, as well as their insignificance to 
 the ear, which renders it improper to use them at the 
 end of a sentence. 
 
 2. The Modifying Effect of Words. 
 
 We have now to consider the position of words as 
 modifying other words in the sentence. It is obvious 
 that most words do not exist for themselves, while 
 some whole classes exist solely for others. This rela- 
 tion between words gives rise to some of the most es- 
 sential principles of style. It is important, therefore, 
 to proceed tinder the guidance of a sound analysis 01 
 the facts with which we are to deal. The opposite re- 
 quirements of the truth-relation and the time-relation 
 have been already pointed out. It is in the equilibrium 
 of these two contrary forces that the main problem of 
 combining words lies. We, therefore, consider this 
 branch of our theme under two heads : (1) Proximity 9 
 or, the requirement of the time-relation ; an ^_^]_^?ljL. 
 entlietical Expressions, or the requirement jofjh^ trutli- 
 relaiion. These counter claims do not always conflict. 
 
 (1) Proximity. In a language like the English, 
 in which the force of a modifier depends upon its 
 position, two forms of difficulty arise from the separa- 
 tion of modifiers from what they modify : (1) a word 
 may be supposed to modify a different word from the 
 
182 THE SCIENCE OF HHETORIC. 
 
 one intended, h e nee A nib iguity ; or (2) it may seem 
 not to modify any word, hence Obscurity. In both 
 these cases there is an obvious waste of mental power. 
 
 1) Ambiguity. A failure to place related words 
 in proximity often involves excellent writers in ambig 
 uity. Thus Addison says : " Let us endeavor to 
 establish to ourselves an interest in him, who holds the 
 reins of the whole creation in Ms hands." " The cre- 
 ation in his hands " is suggestive of insignificance, the 
 very opposite of what the author would convey, for he 
 doubtless means, " who holds in his hands the reins of 
 the whole creation." Dr. Blair, in his " Khetoric," 
 has not always avoided this fault. He says : " There 
 is a remarkable union in his style of harmony and ease; 
 when he does not mean " his style of harmony and 
 ease," but a " union of harmony and ease in his 
 style." An instance of the violation of this law 
 scarcely less absurd than the famous example of "a 
 jiorse plowing with one eye," is found in an essay by 
 D'Israeli. He says, " Hence he considered marriage 
 with a modern political economist, as very dangerous." 
 This hit at modern political economists was quite un- 
 intentional, for the writer meant to say, " Hence, with 
 a modern political economist, he considered marriage 
 very dangerous." 
 
 (a) This law governs the position of the adverb, that 
 slippery particle which occasions so much trouble. 
 Even Dr. Johnson was sometimes led to offend in its 
 management. He says, " I hope not much to tire 
 those whom I shall not happen to please." He shoul 
 have said, " whom I shall happen not to please." Dr. 
 Blair too nods, and says, " Having had once some con- 
 siderable object set before us ;" meaning, not that the 
 object was once considerable, but that some consider 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 183 
 
 able object was once set before him. Addison is guilty 
 of sn ving, " By greatness I do not only mean the bulk of 
 any single object, but the largeness of the whole view.' 
 If ho did not only mean, what did he more than mean 
 
 (b) The proper use of i\\Q pronoun is also deducec 
 from this law of proximity. Mr. Hume tells us, 
 " They flew to arms and attacked Northumberland's 
 horse, ivliom they put to death." Truly a glorious 
 achievement, if literally interpreted ; but the historian, 
 doubtless, intends to inform us that they put the Duke 
 to death, instead of his horse. Swift, in his " Letter 
 to a Young Gentleman," says : "From a habit of sav- 
 ing time and paper, which young men acquire at the 
 university, they write in so diminutive a manner, and 
 with such frequent blots and interlineations that their 
 writing is hardly legible," It sounds strange to hear 
 that young men acquire " time " and "paper " at the 
 university, a place proverbial for wasting both ; but it 
 is 'the "habit" which Swift meant to say is acquired. 
 It has been demonstrated that the following paragraph 
 of Dean Alford's maybe read in 10,240 different ways, 
 only one of which expresses the true meaning : 
 
 " While treating of the pronunciation of those who 
 minister in public, two other words occur to me which 
 are very commonly mangled by our clergy. One of 
 these (A) is ( covetous,' and its substantive ' covetous- 
 ness.' I hope some who read these lines, will be in- 
 luced to leave off pronouncing them (B) ' covetious ' 
 an 1 ' covetiousness.' I can assure them (0) that when 
 they (D) do thus call them 9 (E) one, at least, of their 
 (F) hearers has his appreciation of their (G) teaching 
 disturbed." 
 
 Mr. G. Washington Moon, in "The Dean's Eng- 
 lish," has given the following ingenious criticism 
 
184 
 
 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 II II 
 
 <M 00 
 
 CM 
 
 i I 
 1C 
 
 II 
 
 00 
 
 03 03 03 03 03 
 
 > > > > > > 
 
 I I I I I I 
 
 03 cS cS o3 ri 03 
 
 l O 03 03 <p 0| 
 
 5 rS -9 'S rd 
 
 ^2* 
 
 ^ X X X X X X 
 
 : : : s 
 :::::? 
 
 co m oJ co I 
 
 >, 03 03 03 03 
 
 .2 .2 .2 .2 
 
 s 5 : 1 "i i a 
 
 wT osT M 5 oT CD 
 
 I I I I I I 
 
 * . g g 8 
 
 2 ^ * ' * "' ~ 1 
 
 , tS fe ** ^ &B 12 
 
 g 03 03 S S S 
 
 o 13 13 13 13 13 13 
 
 DO DQ DO CD t/2 CO CO 
 
 O O O O O O O 
 
 t ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 
 
 d s a a ^ a .a .s 
 
 O 0303030303C303 
 
 fi 
 
 PQ o 
 
LAWS OF FOim. 18a 
 
 (c) What is technically called the splitting of par/ i 
 cles is forbidden by the law of proximity of related parts 
 Thus the sentence, "The army arrived at, but, foi 
 numerous reasons, could not proceed into, the town ;" 
 is better in the form, " The army arrived at the town, 
 but for numerous reasons, could not proceed into it." 
 When very few words intervene between the preposi- 
 tion and its case, the objection is very slight, since the 
 governing particle is not long suspended. 
 
 2) Obscurity. The misplacement of words some- 
 times produces such obscurity that the sentence seems 
 to be nonsense. Most cases of obscurity resulting from 
 a violation of the" law of proximity are really instance? 
 *bf ambiguity so absurd as to seem nonsensical. Lore 1 
 Bolingbroke says that "The minister who grows les& 
 by his elevation, like a little statue on a mighty pedes- 
 tal, will always have his jealousy strong about him.'' 
 At first glance, we may take the phrase, "like a little 
 statue on a mighty pedestal," with the last clause ; but 
 the idea of a little statue on a pedestal with his jealousy 
 strong about him is nonsensical. The obscurity is 
 wholly removed by destroying the absurd ambiguity, 
 thus : " The minister, who, like a little statue on a 
 mighty pedestal, grows less by his elevation, will al- 
 ways have his jealousy strong about him." The eru- 
 dite Johnson amuses and puzzles his readers with the 
 astonishing statement that, " This work in its full ex- 
 tent, 'being now afflicted with the asthma, and finding 
 the power of life gradually declining, he had no longer 
 courage to undertake/' It was Savage who had the 
 asthma, as the sequel shows, but we do not discover 
 it until we are confused with the thought that th0 
 "work" was afflicted. 
 
186 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 From these illustrations it seems plain that worth 
 related in thought should be in close proximity. The 
 reason is twofold : (1) the English language being 
 malytic and not formal like the Latin, position decides 
 what words are modified ; and (2) the longer the time 
 Tvhicli elapses between any qualifying expression and 
 the part qualified, the longer the mind must retain 
 something which has yet no force. The more numer- 
 ous the qualifying expressions, and the more widely 
 they are separated from what they qualify, the greater 
 the expenditure of mental power. 
 
 (2) Parenthetical Expressions. While the time- 
 relation demands proximity of related parts, the truth- 
 relation often requires a separation of them to admit 
 the introduction of a necessary explanation or limita- 
 tion. The frequency of these parenthetical insertions 
 depends on the character of the writer's mind, and 
 their necessity on the nature of his thought. Some 
 minds are troubled with an overwhelming flood of 
 suggestion after the sentence is begun, without possess- 
 ing sufficient generalizing power to seize upon the es- 
 sential points and formulate general truths as they ad- 
 vance. They will introduce innumerable conditions 
 of time, place, and circumstance in the midst of every 
 proposition. Fullness of matter without definiteness 
 of form leads men to the extremity of involved expres- 
 sion. It is indeed a work of art "to break up this 
 huge fasiculus of cycle and epicycle into a graceful suc- 
 cession of sentences, long intermingled with short, each 
 modifying the other, and arising musically by links of 
 spontaneous connection." A reviewer of Coleridge's 
 "Aphorisms" has observed that the aphoristic stjle is 
 an evasion of all the difficulties of composition. It is 
 
LAWS OF FOKM. 18? 
 
 easy to state a general truth in brief compass. "The 
 labor of composition begins when you have to put your 
 separate threads of thought into a loom ; to weave them 
 into a continuous whole ; to connect them; to intro- 
 duce them ; to blow them out or expand them ; to 
 carry them to a close." * 
 
 The difficulty, when it is real, must evidently be 
 disposed of in one of three ways : (1) by inserting the 
 limitation, modification, or explanation, the Paren- 
 thesis ; (2) by omitting the expression, the Ellipsis ; 
 or (3) by putting what is omitted in another place, 
 the Foot-note. 
 
 1) The Parenthesis. In the term "parenthesis" 
 are included all expressions introduced between de- 
 "pendent parts of a sentence, whether embraced by the 
 marks of parenthesis or not. It is a very difficult mat- 
 ter to decide just when these marks should be used, and 
 when they should not. Many writers embrace by com- 
 mas matter which others would enclose within marks 
 of parenthesis. Dr. Whately compares this to a lame 
 man's throwing away his crutches, to conceal his lame- 
 ness. The Doctor maintains that this does not effect a 
 cure. He, at least, hobbles along honestly, for some 
 one has counted over four hundred parentheses in his 
 small treatise on "Logic." 
 
 Dr. Blair says on the use of parentheses: "On 
 some occasions, these may have a spirited appearance ; 
 as prompted by a certain vivacity of thought, which can 
 glance happily aside as it is going along. But, for the 
 most part, their effect is extremely bad ; being a sort 
 of wheels within wheels ; sentences in the midst of 
 sentences ; the perplexed method of disposing of some 
 
 * De Quincey. 
 
188 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 thought, which a writer wants art to introduce in its 
 proper place." * 
 
 It is clear that explanatory words and clauses must 
 sometimes be introduced between related members. 
 So every form of motion in machinery must be re- 
 tarded by some friction. We may, however, reduce 
 the waste of power to the minimum by making the 
 suspensions as few and brief as possible without im- 
 pairing the sense. 
 
 Dr. Angus thinks parentheses are more endurable 
 in poetry than in prose. His reason is that poetry has 
 pleasure for its object and " in a pleasant stroll men 
 more readily turn aside than when engaged in business 
 pursuits." f It seems not to have occurred to him that 
 men are more willingly called away from their work 
 than from their enjoyment, which is quite as true, and 
 quite as pertinent. The following lines from Word \ 
 worth illustrate the damaging effects of parenthesr 
 upon poetry : 
 
 " My voice proclaims 
 How exquisitely the individual mind 
 (And the progressive powers, perhaps, no less 
 Of the whole species) to the external world 
 Is fitted. And how exquisitely too 
 (Theme this but little heard of among men) 
 The external world is fitted to the mind." 
 
 The truth is, since thought admits of suspension 
 without irreparable damage, while feeling is absolutely 
 dependent upon uninterrupted continuity, poetry, just 
 in proportion as it is true poetry, is affected by paren- 
 thesis much more seriously than prose. 
 
 * Rhetoric, Lecture XI. 
 
 \ Hand-Book of the English Tongue. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 189 
 
 2) EllipsiSi Ellipsis often contributes to idio- 
 matic terseness of expression, and so becomes an im- 
 portant aid to the economy of interpreting power. On 
 the other hand, its improper use may introduce confu- 
 sion into speech. Addison lias left some very awkward 
 ellipses ; as in the sentence, " But in the temper of 
 mind lie was then, he termed them mercies/' etc. 
 Here he makes Sir Andrew Freeport to be a " temper 
 of mind " when he intended to say "the temper of 
 mind in which he was then." The same writer makes 
 a similar blunder in another instance: "This was 
 a reflection upon the* Pope's sister, who, before the 
 promotion of her brother, was in those circumstances 
 that Pasquin represented her." Was Pasquin her 
 representative) or did he represent her as circum- 
 stances 9 
 
 Although ellipsis is a source of confusion in cases 
 where the sense is affected, it contributes to brevity 
 where the construction alone requires that some- 
 thing be supplied : as, " Who steals my purse steals 
 trash." 
 
 3) Toot-Notes. Foot-notes often furnish an es- 
 cape from both parenthesis and ellipsis. Such excres- 
 cences are omnipresent reminders of the limitations of 
 language as a medium of expression. Just in propor- 
 tion as an author allows this sign of weakness to exhibit 
 itself, in that proportion he publicly confesses his own 
 insufficiency, or that of his medium. Yet, insuffi- 
 ciency is likely to show itself somewhere. He who 
 always writes short sentences, and puts his whole 
 thought into them, must take a very short sweep of 
 view. He who writes long ones, must tax the inter- 
 preting power of his readers. He who constantly lets 
 
190 THE SCIENCE OF KHETOKIC. 
 
 his thoughts overflow his sentences, and drip down 
 into foot-notes, virtually abandons an artistic solu- 
 tion of the great problem of style for a coarse ex 
 pedient. 
 
 We are to consider the foot-note only AS its use is 
 justified or condemned by our general law of style 3 
 the economy of interpreting power. It is surely very 
 distracting to disturb the progress of thought, and 
 make an excursion to the bottom of the page, or even 
 to the end of the volume, for a scrap of information so 
 alien to the text that it could not be incorporated in 
 it. Although it would be a novelty in book making, 
 it would be an excellent plan for an author who uses 
 foot-notes to state in his preface for what purpose 
 he uses them. If there are two classes of notes, it 
 would be well to refer to each by distinct classes o, 
 characters. If some were references to other books, and 
 others gave details not appropriate for the continuous 
 text, it would be easy to refer to the first class by num- 
 bers, and to the second by the ordinary reference 
 marks. The critical spirit of modern times and the 
 wide range of literature require exact references for 
 quotations and opinions, and the foot-note, unnecessary 
 to the ancients and unused by them, is a convenient 
 contrivance for meeting this demand. Such references 
 however, need not interfere with the continuity of 
 reading, provided it is understood in the beginning for 
 what purpose they are used. 
 
 3. The Grammatical Relations of Words. 
 
 Position is often determined by grammatical prin- 
 ciples. These are, of course, to be strictly observed. 
 ex3ept where a departure from precise grammatical 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 19] 
 
 order conduces greatly to some more important element 
 of effect, as in transpositions for emphasis. With the 
 particulars of grammar we have nothing to do here, aa 
 grammatical propriety is assumed. 
 
 III. THE RELATION OF WORDS TO THE 
 
 IDEA AS A WHOLE. 
 
 We have now to consider words in their relation to 
 the idea as a whole. Here again we find it necessary to 
 view words (l)'in their time-relation, and (2) in their 
 truth-relation. 
 
 1. The Time- relation of Words to the 
 Whole Idea. 
 
 The time-relation of words to the idea as a whole 
 determines the proper length , of a sentence. If we 
 could discover how great a number of wor^ the mind 
 can contain at once, we might hope to name the maxi 
 rnurn allowable length of a sentence. This, however 
 is impossible, since much depends upon the cultivatior 
 of the mind addressed, and much upon the simplicity 
 or complexity of sentential structure. It has been ob- 
 served that some speakers can frame a very long period 
 in which the verb comes last, without losing the nomi- 
 native. Others cannot proceed far without losing sight 
 of it. Cases differ so widely that no definite rule can 
 be laid down. 
 
 ^Oilg-SC.ntences_are not generally objectionable be- 
 cause of their length ; but more frequently because of 
 a faulty arrangement. Without the.n majestic mo^^e- 
 m en t, full description, climax, variety, and accurately 
 modified thought, cannot be expressed. A succession 
 of short sentences becomes monotonous, unless relieved 
 
192 THE SCIEKCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 by unusual sprightliness of utterance or epigrammatic 
 meaning. The reading classes have now become so 
 accustomed to long sentences that, if these are clear, 
 well arranged, and grow as they advance, they occasion 
 little difficulty in the mind of a reader. Unquestion- 
 ably, more interpreting power is required to translate 
 into thought a long sentence than a short one ; but 
 generally less power is needed than would be required 
 to obtain possession of the same thought if expressed 
 in a succession of short sentences. When this is the 
 case economy of power does not preclude the use of 
 long sentences. A statement requiring great modifica- 
 tion in order to ^nake it appear true if put in a short 
 sentence and afterward modified by a series of others, 
 would often so savor of paradox as to evoke the oppo- 
 sition of the reader ; and then more mental power 
 would be expended in overcoming this antagonism 
 than would be required in the interpretation of a sen- 
 tence containing a series of conditions before the full 
 enunciation of the conclusion. A strange stupidity 
 nas been exhibited in the wholesale condemnation of 
 long 'sentences on the ground of length alone. The 
 principal difference between one long sentence and a 
 series of short ones together expressing the same ideaT" 
 is, that in the long sentence the relation of the parts, 
 temporal, causal, or illative. is expressly stated ; 
 while in a series of short ones it is left to be inferred. 
 Holding this in mind, it is plain that the long sentence 
 with a proper arrangement, may often have the advan 
 tage over a series of short ones. The principle which 
 must always determine the length is the idea to be 
 expressed. How this affects the case will present!) 
 appear, 
 
LA AYS OF FORM. 193 
 
 2. The Truth-relation of Words to the 
 Whole Idea. 
 
 The truth-relation of words requires us to consider 
 (1) the power of words to indicate collateral and suc- 
 ceeding ideas, or, suggcstiveness ; and (2) the effect 
 of words upon the whole expression, or, unity. 
 
 (1) Suggestiveness. Suggestiveness relates (l) to 
 the Development of the idea ; and (2) to Collaterals 
 associated more or less loosely. 
 
 1) The Development of the Idea.- Mr. Landor 
 
 makes Phocian say that " Thucydides and Demosthenes 
 lay it down as a rule, never to say what they have rea- 
 son to suppose would occur to the auditor and reader 
 in consequence of anything said before ; knowing that 
 ^very one is more pleased and more easily led by us 
 /vhen we bring forward his thoughts indirectly and im- 
 perceptibly, than when we elbow them and outstrip 
 diem with our own." * Mr. De Quincey thus speaks 
 of Burke's composition : 
 
 "Under his treatment every truth, be it what it 
 may, every thesis of a sentence, grows in the very act 
 of unfolding it. Take any sentence you please from 
 Dr. Johnson, suppose, and it will be found to contain 
 a thought good or bad fully preconceived. Where 
 as in Burke, whatever may have been the preconcep- 
 tion, it receives a new determination or inflection at 
 every clause of the sentence. Some collateral adjunct 
 of the main proposition, some temperament or restraint, 
 Borne oblique glance at its remote affinities, will invari- 
 ably be found to attend the progress of his sentences 
 like the spray from a waterfall, or the scintillations 
 
 * Imaginary Conversation* L 
 9 
 
194 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 from the iron under the blacksmith's hammer. Hence, 
 while a writer of Dr. Johnson's class seems only to looi 
 back upon his thoughts, Burke looks forward and 
 does in fact advance and change his own station con- 
 currently with the advance of the sentence." * 
 
 The facts noticed by these critics receive an expla- 
 nation from our general law. When a sentence is so 
 framed as to render it possible for the mind of the in- 
 terpreter to outrun the speaker or writer in reacning 
 its conclusion, the mental action is not truly interpre- 
 tive but prophetic. The mind is not occupied with what 
 is said, but with what is to be said. The ease with 
 which this is done leaves a momentary vacuum in the 
 attention, affording opportunity for the intrusion ol 
 some side issue which only diverts the mind from the 
 leading topics, and wastes its powers on irrelevant 
 matters. This is the experience of those who listen to 
 sermons chiefly consisting of Scriptural quotations with 
 which they are familiar. Either sleep ensues, or more 
 interesting subjects crowd upon the attention and lead 
 the thoughts astray. Thus the interpreting powers 
 are not sufficiently exercised to bring the ideas fairly 
 before the mind. 
 
 2) Collateral Ideas, The suggestion of collateral 
 ideas is an important element in style. There are 
 many associated ideas which are to be avoided, and 
 many which should be suggested. Consummate skill is 
 necessary in the management of this suggestive prop 
 erty of style. Mr. Spencer says on this point : 
 
 ' To select from the sentiment, scene, or event de- 
 scribed, those typical elements which carry many others 
 along with them ; and so, by saying a few things buj 
 
 * Essay on Rhetoric, Note 6. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 195 
 
 suggesting man} 7 , to abridge the description ; is the 
 secret of producing a vivid impression. An extract 
 from Tennyson's ( Mariana ' will illustrate this : 
 
 All day within the dreamy house, 
 
 The door upon the hinges creaked, 
 The blue fly sung i' the pane ; the mouse 
 
 Behind the moidering wainscot shrieked, 
 Or from the crevice peered about. 
 
 "The several circumstances here specified bring 
 with them many appropriate associations. Our atten- 
 tion is rarely drawn by the. buzzing of the fly in the 
 window, save when every thing is still. While the in- 
 mates are moving about the house, mice usually keep 
 silence ; and it is only when extreme quietness reigns 
 that they peep from their retreats. Hence each of the 
 facts mentioned, presupposing numerous others, calls 
 up these with more or less distinctness ; and revives 
 the feeling of dull solitude with which they are con- 
 nected in our experience. Were all these facts detailed 
 instead of suggested, the attention would be so frit- 
 tered away that little impression would be produced. 
 Similarly in other cases. Whatever the nature 
 of the thought to be conveyed, this is the key to 
 success." * 
 
 (2) Unity. The subject of Unity naturally falls 
 under two divisions : (1) Unity of Idea ; and (2) Uni- 
 ty of Structure. 
 
 1) Unity of Idea. If a sentence express more 
 than one principal idea, simple or complex, unity is 
 violated. It is not meant that any part of a sentence 
 may not be indefinitely expanded ; for, so long as ho* 
 
 * Philosophy of 
 
 
196 THE SCIEKCE OF KIIETORIC. 
 
 mogeneity is retained, any sentence may be incredibly 
 extended. Hazlitt is said to have written a sentence 
 of one hundred and ten lines, in which unity is not 
 violated. ]STo matter how short the sentence is, aa 
 loon as heterogeneous ideas appear, unity vanishes. In 
 die following short sentence from Ferguson, we have 
 an account of Cato's death, vigor, age, justice, and 
 philanthropy, all in one confused period : 
 
 f ' Cato died in the full vigor of life, under fifty ; he 
 was naturally warm and affectionate in his temper, 
 comprehensive and impartial, and strongly possessed 
 with the love of mankind." 
 
 The principle of unity grows out of the tendency to 
 contemplate conceptions as individuals. Distinctness 
 of view results from looking at one thing'at once, and 
 by itself. Unity of idea in the sentences of a para- 
 graph is what clearness of outline is in a picture. If 
 the outlines are dim, all the objects in the picture are 
 blended and confused ; so the want of unity in a sen- 
 tence renders every image indistinct. This indistinct- 
 ness generally results from one of five causes : (1) 
 changing the subject ; (2) changing the scene ; (3) 
 crowding together things unconnected ; (4) long par- 
 entheses ; and (5) tacking on supplementary clauses. 
 In every such case there is an obvious waste of inter- 
 preting power. 
 
 2) Unity of Structure. In considering sentences 
 with reference to their unity of structure, it is neces 
 sary to have a classification of them according to theii 
 structure. Classified on this principle, sentences are : 
 (a) those which suspend the sense to the end, or, Peri- 
 odic; (b) those which give a completed meaning at more 
 than one point, or, Loose; and (c) those whose mem- 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 19? 
 
 bers are similar in form and contrasted in meaning, oj 
 Balanced. 
 
 (a) The periodic structure holds the attention tc 
 the end of the sentence, but, if it be long, requires I hi 
 suspension of the sense until a part may be lost 
 While it is conducive to unity of idea, its advantage ia 
 relative. It requires an active mind to collect and ar- 
 range a number of preliminaries, and retain them until 
 the period is closed. " Just as it may cost a strong 
 man less effort to carry a hundred-weight from place 
 to place at once, than by a stone at a time ; so, to ar> 
 active mind it may be easier to bear along all the qual- 
 ifications of an idea and at once rightly form it when 
 named, than first imperfectly to conceive such an idea 
 and then cafry back to it, one by one, the details and 
 limitations afterward mentioned. While conversely, 
 as for a boy, the only possible mode of transferring a 
 hundred- weight, is that of taking it in portions ; so, 
 for a weak mind, the only possible mode of forming a 
 compound conception may be that of building it up by 
 carrying separately its separate parts."* Hence we 
 infer that the periodic structure is best adapted to short 
 sentences, and to cultivated hearers. 
 
 (b) In a language so little inflectional as ours, the 
 touse sentence must be of frequent occurrence. JJb is 
 less favorable to unity than the periodic, since the ad- 
 ditions may easily lapse into digressions. The inter 
 pretation of a loose sentence affects the mind as the body 
 is affected by the pursuit of game which is every mo- 
 ment feigning to halt, but still runs on. If the 
 game be worth catching, the chase is interesting, bui 
 both provoking and exhausting. 
 
 * Spencer. 
 
i98 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 (c) The balanced sentence possesses several impor- 
 tant excellences. It is a kind of ledger-page in mini 
 ature, on which the debit and credit are put before the 
 mind at once. Its force is felt in such a series of sen- 
 tences as this : 
 
 " The style of Dryden is capricious and varied, that of Pope 
 is cautious and uniform. Dryden obeys the motions of his own 
 will, Pope constrains his mind to his own rule of composition. 
 Dryden is sometimes vehement and rapid, Pope is always smooth 
 uniform, and level. Dryden's page is a natural field, rising 
 into inequalities, and diversified by the varied exuberance of 
 abundant vegetation, Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven by the 
 scythe, and leveled by the roller." 
 
 Both the memory and the imagination are aided by 
 the balanced structure. The principle f contrast, 
 which will be explained in another place, renders it a 
 means of economizing mental power. 
 
 The principle of variety, so important in style, 
 allows the moderate use of each form of structure, and 
 an ingenious combination of all displays much higher 
 attainments in art than a slavish devotion to any single 
 model. The principal advantage accruing from the 
 study of sentential structure is, that we may know the 
 peculiar excellences of each form, and be able to apply 
 that knowledge when we wish to make our words a 
 expressive as possible. No writer or speaker can spend 
 a long time upon every sentence, yet, in elaborate pro- 
 ductions, where care and labor are nothing compared 
 with the result aimed at, these principles will be of 
 practical value. 
 
 IV. THE COMBINATION OF SENTENCES. 
 
 We have now considered the various condition 
 
 affecting the structure of the sentence. " But it is in 
 
LA\VS OF FORM. 199 
 
 the relation of sentences, in what Horace terms theit 
 *junctv.rd) that the true life of composition resides. 
 The mode of their~7/.r?/,s, the way in which one sen- 
 tence is made to arise out of another, and to prepare 
 the opening for a third, this is the great loom in 
 which the textile process of the moving intellect -reveals 
 itself and prospers. Here the separate clauses of a 
 period become architectural parts, aiding, relieving, 
 supporting one another/'' * 
 
 in the progress of a paragraph, two tilings jire neces- 
 sary : first, that each sentence express some idea not 
 expressed in the preceding ; and, secondly, that the 
 idea have some relation to the preceding idea. Al- 
 though not necessarily opposed to each other, these 
 two conditions are not always easily fulfilled at the 
 same time, since progress in discourse is a movement 
 away from the ideas already expressed, and yet these 
 preceding ideas must be kept in mind in order to show 
 the connection. Interpreting power is wasted when the 
 connection between successive statements is obscure, 
 and also when there is a full repetition of an idea al- 
 ^ready expressed. Thejhighest excellence consists in a 
 judicious yielding to each condition. This may be 
 done in several ways. 
 
 1. Progressive Development. 
 
 All great writers employ a progressive development 
 ir the succession of their sentences. Thus Carlyle does 
 not say, "Nothing dies, nothing can die," and then 
 leap to the conclusion that, since God knows our con- 
 versation, a Boswell need not shrink from reporting it 
 
 * De QuiDcey, Essay on Language 
 
200 THE SCIENCE OF KHETOUJC. 
 
 He docs not leave even so narrow a chasm to cross, but 
 develops his thought by increments : 
 
 " Nothing dies, nothing can die. No idlest word thou sprak 
 est but is a seed cast into Time, and grows through all Eternity 
 The Recording Angel, consider it well, is no fable, but thetrues\ 
 of truths ; the paper tablet thou canst burn ; of the ' iron leaf ' 
 there is no burning. Truly, if we can permit God Almighty tc 
 note down our conversation, thinking it good enough for Him, 
 any poor Boswell need not scruple to work his will with it." 
 
 Here the general statement that nothing dies is 
 made to apply specifically to 'words ; the deathlessness 
 of a word is represented under the image of a seed ; 
 the agent of preservation is brought to view by the 
 mention of the recording angel; the means are ex- 
 plained by the allusion to the " iron leaf. 77 It is then 
 an easy step to the assumption that God notes down 
 our conversation. 
 
 2. Explicit Reference. 
 
 The explicit reference is a means of economizing 
 interpreting power in the progress. of discourse. It 
 consists in a running reference to antecedent state- 
 ments. De Quincey is especially distinguished for its 
 felicitous use. The following illustrates it : 
 
 "If we do submit to this narrow valuation of style, founded 
 JH the interest of the subject to which it is ministerial, still, even on 
 that basis, we English commit a capital blunder which the French 
 earnestly and sincerely escape ; for, assuming that the thought* 
 involve the primary interest, still it must make all the difference 
 in the world to the success of those thoughts, whether they are 
 treated in the way best fitted to expel the doubts or darkness 
 that may have settled on them." 
 
 The explicit references are marked by italics. In 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 201 
 
 this example, they are more numerous than necessary, 
 Skillfully used, they often obviate the ambiguous em- 
 ployment of the pronoun. When the pronoun is used 
 for reference, the uncertainty of the true antecedent 
 may require a closer attention and a more frequent re* 
 current movement of the mind than most readers are 
 willing to bestow. 
 
 3. Necessity of a Theme. 
 
 Since the placing of one sentence after another 
 does not constitute progress in discourse, unless the 
 nexus between the succeeding parts is obvious, it is 
 important that sentences should rise out of each other. 
 True progress in discourse involves a constant move- 
 ment, either toward or away from some proposition or 
 state of feeling in the writer's mind. Hence, j^very 
 paragraph should have its theme. This may be stated 
 at the beginning, and from it as a starting point the 
 writer may make an excursion, gathering up facts, 
 illustrations, and arguments, with which to enrich it- 
 or it may be withheld, and these materials may be first 
 collected, and the theme deduced from them. But, in 
 any case, there must be movement, and movement in 
 a given direction, or there is a waste of interpreting 
 power. 
 
 4. Value of Analysis. 
 
 Not only every paragraph, but every group of para- 
 graphs should have a theme^ A progressive and 
 jiethodical analysis 'should, therefore, precede, every 
 synthetic eiloit. "It is from fault of plan," saya 
 Buff on, "it is from not having reflected upon his sub- 
 ject, that a man of mind finds himself embarrassed, and 
 
202 THE SCIEKCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 knows not where to commence to write. He perceives 
 at once a great number of ideas ; and, us he lias 
 aeither compared nor subordinated them, nothing de- 
 termines him to prefer some to others ; he still remains 
 x perplexity." * 
 
 * Discours sur le Style. 
 
THE ECONOMY OF INTERPRETING POWER 
 IN FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. 
 
 1. Definition of Figures. 
 
 A FIGURE of speech is an expression in which one 
 thing is said in the form of another related to it. 
 Figures are usually divided into figures of orthography, 
 etymology, syntax, and rhetoric. The first three 
 classes are grammatical, and will not be treated here. 
 All figures not grammatical may be classed as rhetori- 
 cal, and will be treated in detail. Quintilian's distinc- 
 tion between tropes and figures is of no practical value. 
 
 2. Laws of Association. 
 
 In treating of a train of thought, it was stated that 
 deas are associated in the mind according to certain 
 fixed pwncipies, and that their succession in the mind 
 depends upon that association. " Philosophers, having 
 observed that one thought determined another to arise, 
 and that this determination only took place between 
 thoughts which stood in certain relations to each other, 
 set themselves to ascertain and classify the kinds of 
 correlation under which this occurred, in order to gen- 
 eralize the laws by which the phenomenon of Repro- 
 duction was governed. Accordingly, it has been 
 established, that thoughts are associated, that is, are 
 
204 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 able to excite each other : (1) if coexistent, or imme- 
 diately successive in time ; (2) if their objects are 
 conterminous or adjoining in space ; (3) if they hold 
 the dependence to each other of cause and effect, or of 
 mean and end, or of whole and part ; (4) if they stand 
 in a relation either of contrast or of similarity ; (5) if 
 they are the operations of the same power, or of differ- 
 ent powers conversant about the same object ; (6) if 
 their objects are the sign and the signified ; or (7) even 
 if their objects are accidentally denoted by the same 
 sound."* 
 
 3. These Laws Reduced 16 Three. 
 
 These conditions were reduced by Aristotle to three 
 and may be summed up in one, that " Thoughts that 
 have once coexisted in the mind are afterward associ- 
 ated." Eor our purpose, however, Aristotle's three- 
 fold division will be most convenient. We shall, then, 
 gard these laws of association as three : (1) Resem- 
 blance ; (2) Contiguity; and (3) Contrast. That is, 
 conceptions having resemblance, contiguity, or con- 
 trast, are associated together. 
 
 4. Use of these Laws, 
 
 These being the tracks, so to speak, on which all 
 minds run, it is evident that we may determine from 
 them both why figures improve style, and what figures 
 are advantageous. 
 
 (1) Why Figures Improve Style. In all minds, 
 
 objects, acts and relations are associated by resem* 
 
 blance, contiguity, and contrast ; that is, objects which 
 
 resemble each other, are contiguous to each other, 
 
 * Sir Wm. Hamilton's Metaphysics. 
 
LAWS OF FOHM. 205 
 
 or are contrasted with each other, mutually sug- 
 gest each other. Some names are more specific 
 and concrete than others associated with them 
 through resemblance, contiguity, or contrast in the 
 objects. Hence interpreting power may sometimes bo 
 economized by selecting from associated objects, acts, 
 and relations, the most specific and concrete. This is 
 done by figures, in which the general and the abstract 
 ai'e expressed in the form of the specific and concrete. 
 They are, therefore, to style what diagrams are to 
 Geometry, experiments to Chemistry, or maps to Geog- 
 raphy. They render shadowy abstractions visible and 
 tangible, and so economize interpreting power. 
 
 (2) What Figures are Advantageous, In order 
 to determine wliat figures are conducive to this end, 
 we must consider these laws of association separately, 
 and note in what manner they may be applied to 
 economize interpreting power. We proceed to do this 
 :n the following sections. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 FIGURES FOUNDED ON 
 RESEMBLANCE. 
 
 Figures founded on resemblance may be divided 
 into two main classes : (1) those in which the resem- 
 blance is stated^ and (2) those in which the resem- 
 blance is implied. In the first division falls SIMILE, 
 which explicitly states the resemblance.* In the sec- 
 
 * Dr. Campbell's distinction between Simile and Comparison 
 is of small practical value. He says : " The difference is tlus: 
 Simile is no more than a comparison suggested in a word 01 
 
206 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 ond are METAPHOR, in which the implied resemblance ia 
 to vividly conceived as to be taken for identity ; PER- 
 bOXiFiCATiox, in which the resemblance of an inanimate 
 object to a person is so forcibly felt as to be assumed 
 and ALLEGORY, in which the resemblance is made to 
 extend to a number of details. These figures will now 
 be considered in separate divisions. 
 
 I. SIMILE. 
 1. Forms of Simile. 
 
 Simile assumes four forms, i. e., it may be founded 
 on (1) direct resemblance ; (2) resemblance of causes , 
 (3) resemblance of effects ; or (4) resemblance of 
 ratios. 
 
 (1) Direct Resemblance. Direct resemblance, 
 contrary to a natural presupposition, is the leastjcom- 
 mon and the least useful of the four kinds of simile. 
 The reason of this isflbhat, in order to assist the mind 
 in forming a conception, the objects compared must 
 belong to different classes ; but, if of different classes, 
 they are likely to have no direct similitude. This ia 
 not always so. Tennyson thus describes a miller : 
 
 " Him, like the working bee in blossom dust, 
 Blanched with his mill, they found." 
 
 Here there is a direct resemblance between blossom 
 dust and the flour on the miller's clothing, yet the two 
 objects compared belong to different classes. 
 
 (2) Resemblance of Causes. The resemblance 
 
 two. Comparison is a simile circumstantiated and included in 
 one or more separate sentences." Philosophy of Rlwtorw. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 207 
 
 of causes is more common than the direct resemblance. 
 
 An illustration is furnished byDryden : 
 
 " I scarcely understand my own intent ; 
 But, silk-worm like, so long within have wroaght 
 That I am lost in iny own web of thought.' 1 
 
 If we inquire of what resemblance is here predi- 
 cated, the answer is, not of the poet and a silk-worm, 
 for there is no resemblance between them, but of the 
 internal process of both poet and silk-worm. A mode 
 of intellectual life is compared to a mode of insect life, 
 in order to show a resemblance between the cause of 
 the poet's bewilderment and the cause of the insect's 
 entanglement. As the internal operations of the in- 
 sect result in its own entanglement, so the reflections of 
 the poet result in his bewilderment. 
 
 (3) Resemblance of Effects. Nothing is more 
 
 evident than that widely different objects may produce 
 similar effects upon the mind. Few things are more 
 unlike in themselves than painting and poetry, stat- 
 uary and music, yet we often hear allusions to " word- 
 painting," and hear statuary defined as " marble music." 
 All art has* a common basis. "The fountain from 
 which all the fine arts flow is precisely the same. It is 
 the power of creating in our own minds images of 
 beauty or sublimity." Hence the resemblance of 
 effects is a fertile source of simile. Mr. Longfellow's 
 simile in the following lines 1 <as been criticised as " far- 
 fetched :" 
 
 " The day is done, and the darkness 
 Falls from the wing of night, 
 As a feather is wafted downward 
 From an eagle in his flight." 
 
208 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 If every simile must be a configuration, this maybe 
 faulty, but that is an assumption wholly without proof. 
 The poet wishes to convey the idea of the gentle and 
 silent descent of darkness, and in the whole realm of 
 imagery he could not have chosen a more appropriate 
 emblem of combined gentleness and silence of move- 
 ment than the falling feather. The effect of approach- 
 ing darkness and the effect of a falling feather, to the 
 mind, are similar from the fact that they produce in 
 the mind similar emotions. 
 
 (4) Resemblance of Ratios. The. greatest num- 
 ber of similes are based upon analogy, or the re- 
 semblance of ratios. Similes of this class are of great 
 value to expression. If an object, cause or efrect may 
 be likened directly to something else, it must be some- 
 what simple by nature, and hence easily understood 
 without comparison. Similes based on analogy, in- 
 volving a similarity not of things but of relations, must 
 contribute more to rendering the general and abstract 
 comprehensible. In figures of this kind direct resem- 
 blance may be wholly wanting. Thus there is no like- 
 ness between a man and fruit on a tree, or a clock, yet 
 Dry den very forcibly says : 
 
 " Of no distemper, of no blast he died, 
 
 But fell like autumn fruit that mellowed long, 
 E'en wondered at because he dropped no sooner. 
 Fate seemed to wind him up for four-score years, 
 Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more, 
 Till, like a clock worn out with eating time, 
 The wheels of weary life at last stood still." 
 
 Here the comparison is not between things, ":ut oe 
 tiveen relations. 
 
 The following from Burns demonstrates that a sim-_ 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 209 
 
 jlcjdoes not necessarily imply any direct resemblance 
 of things, or more than a single point of resemblance 
 between relations, since pleasures are happily compared 
 to several objects between which there is no similitude 
 uid only one common property, evanescence * 
 
 " Ah ! pleasures are like poppies spread 
 You seize the flower, the bloom is shed ; 
 Or like the boreal is' race, 
 That flit ere you can point their place ; 
 Or like the snow-flakes on the river, 
 A moment white then dark forever ; 
 Or like the rainbow's lovely form, 
 Evanishing amid the storm." 
 
 Indeed, the most attenuated resemblances between 
 things affect us most agreeably, if there be a real 
 resemblance between their relations. Thus Shelley 
 ventures to the Ultima Thule of similitude for this 
 exquisite simile : 
 
 " Our boat is asleep on Tercliio's stream ; 
 Its sails are folded like thoughts in a dream" 
 
 Comparison is pictorial speech. It serves the 
 same purpose in language that pictures do in books. 
 Every one feels that he derives a clearer idea of any 
 thing from a picture, or even from a rude diagram, 
 than from words alone. By presenting two objects to 
 the mind at once, and affirming a likeness between 
 their causes, effects, or relations, an abstract thought 
 becomes clear through the concrete image. 
 
 2. Laws of Simile. 
 
 Although interpreting power is economized by the 
 ase of comparison, the utility of it depends upon some 
 special laws. 
 
210 THE SCIENCE OF KHE10RIC. 
 
 (1) Similar Objects. There is evidently jwj 
 omy when the resemblance is found between exactly 
 similar objects or acts. Thus in Pope's Homer, one 
 fight is compared to another : 
 
 " Nor could the Greeks repel the Lycian powers, 
 Nor the bold Lycians force the Grecian towers. 
 As, on the confines of adjoining grounds, 
 Two stubborn swains with blows dispute their bounds ; 
 They tug, they sweat ; but neither gain nor yield, 
 One foot, one inch, of the contended field." 
 
 If such a comparison has any justification, it is, that 
 the complex is made simple by making the general fight 
 an individual combat. 
 
 (2) Vague Resemblances. There is no economy 
 when the resemblance is vague. Quinfeilian, speaking 
 of comparison, says : " In this kind of figure it is 
 especially important to guard against that which we 
 use for the sake of a comparison being either obscure 
 ar unknown ; for that which is used to illustrate some- 
 thing else should itself be plainer than that which it 
 illustrates." * 
 
 Mrs. Browning, usually so felicitous in her choice 
 of figures, writes : 
 
 " Then the bitter sea 
 Inexorably pushed between us both ; 
 And sweeping up the ship with my despair. 
 Threw us out as a pasture to the stars." 
 
 Of this Peter Bayne justly says : 
 
 "No Ossianic juvenile ever perpetrated purer non- 
 sense. What possible resemblance there can be between 
 :> ship and a pasture ; why and when stars go out tjj 
 
 * Institutes, Book VIII, III., 73. 
 
liWS OP FOftM. 211 
 
 grass ; and wherefore having so gone, they should feed 
 on ships and young ladies, these are questions of in- 
 soluble mystery." * 
 
 (3) Simpler Objects. It is plain that simile jnost 
 economizes mental power when it compares the com- 
 plex to the simple, the mental to the physical. Aris- 
 Totle f cites Plato's comparison of the populace to "a 
 pilot strong, but rather deaf." Here the complex idea 
 of the power and folly of a mob is reduced to a simple 
 one under the figure of a single person guiding a vessel, 
 strong enough to move it at his will, but deaf to the 
 sound of breakers and of warning. The sacrifice of 
 one's self for the benefit of others, and the gradual loss 
 of strength in their service, is a moral conception some- 
 what complex in its nature; but Antisthenes beautifully 
 concreted it into a picture when he likened Cephisido- 
 tus the slim to frankincense, for "in its consumption 
 it spreads universal delight." 
 
 (4) The Position of Parts in a Simile. The posi- 
 tion of parts in a simile is important to its effect. Both 
 Aristotle and Quintilian overlook this. The former 
 says nothing on the subject, while the latter gives no 
 principle as a guide, simply declaring that the illus- 
 trated or the illustrative member may come first, as 
 circumstances direct. J Mr. Spencer has enunciated 
 a valuable law for the position of the parts of a simile. 
 "As whatever qualifies should precede whatever is 
 qualified, ^orcejvillje-neniny be gained by placing the 
 timile [illustrative member] before the object to which 
 it is applied. That this arrangement is the best, ma) 
 
 * Essays. f Rhetoric, Book III, Chap, iv., 3 
 
 J Institutes, Book VIII, III., 77. 
 
212 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 bo seen in the following passage from the ' Lady of the 
 Lake : 
 
 f As wreath of sn >w, on mountain breast, 
 
 Slides from the rock that gave it rest, 
 
 Poor Ellen glided from her stay, 
 
 And at the monarch's feet she lay.' 
 
 " Inverting these couplets will be found to diminish 
 the effect considerably. There are cases, however, 
 even where the simile is a simple one, in which it may 
 with advantage be placed last ; as in these lines from 
 Alexander Smith's ' Life Drama : ' 
 
 4 1 see the future stretch 
 All dark and barren as a rainy sea.' 
 
 " The reason for this seems to be, that so abstract 
 an idea as that attaching to the word 'future,' does 
 not present itself to the mind in any definite form ; 
 mid hence the subsequent arrival at the simile [illus- 
 trative member] entails no reconstruction of the 
 thought. 
 
 ' ' Such,, however, are not the only cases in which this 
 order is the more forcible. As the advantage of put- 
 ting the simile before the object depends on its being 
 carried forward in the mind to assist in forming an 
 image of the object ; it must happen that if, from 
 length or complexity, it cannot be so carried forward, 
 the advantage is not gained. The annexed sonnet 
 from Coleridge is defective from this cause : 
 
 4 As when a child, on some long winter's night, 
 Affrighted, clinging to its grandam's knees, 
 With eager wond'ring and perturb'd delight 
 Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees, 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 213 
 
 Muttered to wretch by necromantic spell ; 
 Or of those hags who at the witching time 
 Of murky midnight, ride the air sublime, 
 And mingle foul embrace with fiends of hell ; 
 Cold horror drinks its blood I Anon the tear 
 More gentle starts, to hear the beldame tell 
 Of pretty babes, that loved each other dear, 
 Murdered by cruel uncle's mandate fell : 
 Ev'n such the shiv'ring joys thy tones impart, 
 Ev'n so, thou, Siddons, meltest my sad heart/ 
 
 "Here, from the lapse of time and accumulation of 
 circumstances, the first part of the comparison is for- 
 gotten before its application is reached ; and requires 
 re-reading. Had the main idea been first mentioned 
 less effort would have been required to retain it, and to 
 modify the conception of it into harmony with the 
 comparison, than to remember the comparison and re- 
 fer back to its successive features for help in forming 
 the final image. " 
 
 II. METAPHOR. 
 
 1. Nature of Metaphor. 
 
 In the metaphor, resemblance is not formally ex- 
 pressed, but so emphatically implied as to affirm an 
 identity of the objects compared. Thus Byron so 
 vividly realized the resemblance between the swaying 
 of a suspended ball and man's oscillation between joy 
 and sorrow, as to identify the two in his thought in 
 the beautiful line in which he says of man, 
 
 " Thou pendulum between a smile and tear." 
 
214 THE SCIENCE OP RHETORIC. 
 
 2. Superiority of Metaphor to Simile. 
 
 It is apparent that the metaphor surpasses the 
 simile in fpro& This is owing partly to its greater 
 brevity, and partly to the higher degree of unity in 
 metaphorical expression. Dr. Whately * points out 
 the feebleness of the simile as compared with the meta- 
 phor in the following expressions : " Cromwell treated 
 the laws with the same contempt as a man does any 
 thing which he tramples under his feet ;" and " Crom- 
 well trampled the laws under his feet." He gives no 
 explanation of the cause of the superiority of the meta- 
 phor. The cause seems to be, that the metaphor is 
 brief and suggests a simple imagej while the simile is 
 long and presents a complex image, Cromwell, and a 
 shadowy somebody who is trampling an unknown 
 something under his feet. 
 
 3. Metaphor Based on Analogy. 
 
 Most metaphors are based on analogy, or resem 
 olance of relations. A single illustration will suffice 
 There is no direct resemblance between a lock in a ca 
 nal, and a poet, yet Lowell very forcibly says of 
 Dry den : 
 
 "He was the lock that let our language down from 
 its point of highest poetry to its level of easiest and 
 most gentle flowing prose." 
 
 The resemblance here implied is between the rela- 
 tion of the lock to the water level, and Dryden's rela- 
 tion to style. If this obvious principle were more 
 widely understood, many a stupid criticism would be 
 deprived of its sting. 
 
 * Rhetoric, Part III. Chap. ii. 8. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 215 
 
 4. Laws of Metaphor. 
 
 Some important laws for the use of metaphor arc 
 derived from the economy of interpreting power. 
 * (1) Necessity of Clearness. Since, from the na- 
 ture of metaphor, the resemblance is merely implied 
 it should be easily perceived. " It would be harsh 
 and obscure to say, ' the stranded vessel lay shaken by 
 the waves/ meaning ' the wounded chief tossing on the 
 bed of sickness ;' it is therefore necessary to state the 
 resemblance." * When the case does not admit of pure 
 metaphor, but would also have an air of clumsiness if 
 simile were employed, an ingenious device is to unite 
 the two figures in the same expression. Sir Walter 
 Scott furnishes examples of a simile explained by a 
 series of metaphors, and a metaphor explained by a 
 Bimile. He says of a morbid fancy, 
 
 " like the bat of Indian brakes, 
 
 Her pinions fan the wound slie makes, 
 And soothing thus the dreamer's pain, 
 She drinks the life-blood from the vein." 
 
 " Like "introduces a comparison, and the last three 
 lines are explanatory metaphors. Again, 
 
 " They melted from the field as snow 
 When streams are swollen, and south winds blow, 
 Dissolves in silent dew." 
 
 "Here "melted" is a metaphor, explained by the 
 simile introduced by "as." 
 
 (2) Blending Plain and Figurative Language. 
 
 Although two figures of cognate import may be thus 
 united in the same expression, confusion results from 
 
 * Whately. 
 
216 THE SCIEKCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 the blending of plain and figurative language. Shake 
 gpearc has exemplified the fault in these lines : 
 
 " This precious stone set in the sea, 
 Which serves it in the office of a wall, 
 Or as a moat defensive to a house 
 Against the envy of less happier lands." 
 
 A moat might be a useful defense against an army } 
 but would not be a protection against envy. 
 
 , (3) Mixing Metaphors. The mixing of metaphors 
 
 is a common but gross fault, as when the excited advo- 
 cate exclaimed : " I smell a mouse ; it is floating in 
 the air; but we will nip it in the bud." This fault 
 is pointed out with a refinement of sarcasm in the fol- 
 lowing passage of the "Behearsal :'* 
 
 "Physician. Sir, to conclude, the place you fill has 
 more than amply exacted the talents of a wary pilot ; 
 and all these threatening storms, which, like impreg- 
 nate clouds, hover o'er our heads, will, when they are 
 but grasped by the eye of reason, melt into fruitful 
 showers of blessing on the people. 
 
 Bayes. Pray, mark that allegory. Is not that 
 good ? 
 
 Johnson. Yes, that grasping of a storm with the 
 eye is admirable ! " 
 
 (4) Straining Metaphors. A metaphor loses its 
 value as an aid to interpretation if it is strained beyond 
 its clear and natural application. This is so obvious as 
 not to require illustration. 
 
 (5) Concrete Metaphors, The metaphor is most 
 useful when it embodies the abstract, intangible, or 
 intellectual in the similitude of the concrete, visible, 
 and material. The whole vocabulary of spiritual and 
 
LAWS OF FOKM. 217 
 
 moral discourse is derived from roots primarily signifi- 
 cant of physical phenomena. As an example of the 
 exhaustless fund of illustration to be found in the ru- 
 iations of material things, observe how two widely dif- 
 feient notions have been expressed under the similitude 
 of refraction. Burke furnishes the first case : 
 
 "These metaphysic rights entering into common 
 life, like rays of light which pierce into a dense medi- 
 um, are by the laws of nature refracted from their 
 straight line. Indeed, in the gross and complicated 
 mass of human passions and concerns, the primitive 
 rights of man undergo such a variety of refractions 
 and reflections, that it becomes absurd to talk of them 
 as if they continued in the simplicity of their original 
 direction." 
 
 Here is another use of the laws of refraction by 
 Herbert Spencer : 
 
 " The white light of truth, in traversing the many- 
 sided soul of the poet, is refracted into iris-hued poetry." 
 
 5. The Value of Metaphor. 
 
 The skillful use of metaphor is the secret charm of 
 many a famous pen. It not only lends grace and at- 
 tractiveness to style through images of beauty, but it 
 also economizes interpreting power. If metaphors 
 were merely ornaments, as many rhetorical writers 
 seem to regard them, they would have no more place in 
 a composition than gold jewels would have in the nose 
 of a philosopher. They might be admired by the un- 
 tutored barbarian ; but to writers of sense and refine 
 ment they would be tokens of an unnatural taste, Bu 
 metaphors offer the richest mine in which genius ma) 
 seek for unappropriated treasure. Its treasures arc 
 
218 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 absolutely inexhaustible. The resemblances of ratioa- 
 iiave no limits which finite faculties can ever reach. 
 They lie all about us, in every department of creation, 
 from the flower to the star. The dull soul does not 
 perceive them until genius spreads them before us in 
 their beauty and freshness. When America's Milton 
 and Shakespeare come, they will not go with the penny- 
 a-liners to Homer and Virgil for their imagery, but to 
 the hidden quarries of nature, and from their intermin- 
 able depths they will bring materials for castles of 
 diction as grand as the old-time structures from which 
 others steal the moss-grown stones. 
 
 III. PERSONIFICA TION. 
 
 -., the Nature and Origin of Personification. 
 
 Personification consists in attributing personality^ 
 01 some of the attributes of personality, to an inanimate 
 object, because of a fancied resemblance to a living be- 
 ing. The philosophy of this figure leads us far into the 
 mysteries of mythology, and throws a flood of light 
 upon the genesis of myths. To the inhabitants of the 
 infant world, every thing was animated with an indi- 
 vidual life. " We cannot realize that sentiment with 
 which the eye of antiquity dwelt on these sights of na- 
 ture. To us all is law, order, necessity. We calculate 
 the refractory power of the atmosphere, we measure 
 the possible length of the dawn in every climate, and 
 the rising of the sun is to us no greater surprise than 
 the birth of a child. But if we could believe again, 
 that there was in the sun a being like our own, that in 
 the dawn there was a soul open to human sympathy, 
 if we could bring ourselves to look for a moment upon 
 
LAWS OJ? FOKM. 219 
 
 these powers as personal, free, and adorable, how dif- 
 ferent would be oar i'eelings at the blush of day. 7 " * 
 But prior to reflection all motion is the product of will, 
 and will implies personality. Consciousness teaches us 
 that our movements emanate from a volition, radiate 
 from a conscious subject, and, before the rise of natural 
 philosophy, it would be easy for man to people the 
 earth, the sea, and the sky with personalities like his 
 own. Thus, say a certain school of comparative my- 
 thologists, every word was a personifying metaphor, 
 and in time, its significance fading from memory, it 
 was supposed to designate a real being a hero or a 
 god. 
 
 "In the ancient poetical and proverbial language 
 of Elis," says Miiller, " people said, ' Selene [moon] 
 loves and watches Endymion [setting sun'], instead of 
 6 the sun is setting and the moon is rising ;' ' Selene 
 kisses Endymion into sleep,' instead of, c it is night.' 
 These expressions remained long after their meaning 
 had ceased to be understood ; and as the human mind 
 js generally as anxious for a reason as ready to invent 
 one, a story arose by common consent, and without any 
 personal effort, that Endymion must have been a young 
 lad loved by a young lady Selene." f 
 
 2. Personification Natural to Man. 
 
 This poetic instinct of the earliest men has not 
 wholly died out in the human breast. A spark still 
 survives, and as the feelings are aroused, 
 
 " And as imagination bodies forth 
 The form of things unknown," 
 
 * Max Miiller's Chips from a German Workshop, IL 
 f Chips, ii 
 
220 THE SCIENCE OF KHETOKIC. 
 
 it touches abstractions with its Promethean fire, and 
 breathes into their nostrils the breath of life. Thus 
 Wordsworth gives personality to age : 
 
 " Age! twine thy brows with fresh spring flowers, 
 And call a f rain of laughing Hours, 
 And bid them dance, and bid them sing ; 
 And thou, too, mingle in the ring 1 " 
 
 3. Personification in Oratory. 
 
 But not in poetry alone is personification a natural 
 form of expression. It vivifies the grandest oratory. 
 Curran, speaking of Irish independence, says, " I sai 
 by her cradle, and I have followed her hearse.' 7 Fired 
 with the noble theme of freedom, he conceives of uni- 
 versal emancipation as a living genius, presiding over 
 British soil, and clothed with all the majesty of 
 beneficent power : 
 
 "I speak in the spirit of British law, which makes 
 liberty commensurate with and inseparable from the 
 British soil, which proclaims even to the stranger and 
 the sojourner, the me'nent he sets his foot on British 
 earth, that the soil on which he treads is holy, and con- 
 secrated by the genius of Universal Emancipation. No 
 matter in what language his doom may have been pro- 
 nounced; no matter what complexion incompatible 
 with freedom an Indian or an African sun may have 
 burned upon him ; no matter in what disastrous battle 
 his liberties may have been cloven down ; no matter 
 with what solemnities he may have been devoted on the 
 altar of slavery, the moment he touches the sacred toil 
 of Britain, the altar and the god sink together in the 
 dust, his soul walks abroad in her own majesty, his 
 body swells beyond the chains that burst from around 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 221 
 
 him, and he stands redeemed, regenerated, aaid dis- 
 enthralled by the irresistible genius of Universal 
 Emancipation." 
 
 A single sentence like this will impress the sub- 
 limity of a sentiment more forcibly than a folio ol 
 abstract propositions logically deduced from an axiom. 
 
 4. Forms of Personification. 
 
 Two forms of personification may be distinguished : 
 (1) that which ascribes personality to inanimate ob- 
 jects ; and (2) that which attributes to an inanimate 
 object some quality of a living being. 
 
 (1) Personality Ascribed, The first form is likely 
 to seem forced except in the highest flights of poetry 
 and oratory. Milton uses it with power in describing 
 he grief of nature over the sin of Eve : 
 
 " Earth felt the wound ; and Nature from her seat 
 Sighing, through all her works gave signs of woe, 
 That all was lost." 
 
 Wordsworth thus invests religion with the terrors 
 of an unnatural maternity : 
 
 " Sacred Religion, mother of form and fear, 
 Dread arbitress of mutable respect 
 New rites ordaining when the old are wrecked, 
 Or cease to please the fickle worshiper." 
 
 Shelley breathes a soul into the cloud which makes 
 it seem almost a sister : 
 
 I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers 
 From the seas and the streams ; 
 I bear light shade for the leaves when laid 
 In their noonday dVeaias 
 
222 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 From my wings are shaken the dews that waken 
 
 The sweet buds every one, 
 
 When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, 
 
 As she dances about the sun. 
 
 I wield the flail of the lashing hail 
 
 And whiten the green plains under ; 
 
 And then again I dissolve it in rain, 
 
 And laugh as I pass in thunder." 
 
 (2) dualities of Life Attributed. The second 
 
 form of personification is more common, and pervades 
 all animated speech and writing. While it does not 
 affirm personality, it implies the possession of life by 
 inanimate objects. It appears in such expressions as, 
 "the thirsty soil/' " ravenous famine," " angry tern 
 pest," and the like. What unutterable loneliness in 
 these lines by Leigh Hunt : 
 
 " A ghastly castle that eternally 
 Holds its blind visage out to the lone sea." 
 
 IV. ALLEGORY. 
 1. The Nature of Allegory. 
 
 Allegory is commonly defined as "a continued 
 metaphor," or a metaphor developed so as to include a 
 number of details. This definition does not express 
 the whole truth, since it takes a species for a genus. 
 An allegory may consist of a single metaphor expanded, 
 or of several cognate metaphors. In the following 
 beautiful passage by Longfellow, the original metaphor, 
 representing the state under the figure of a ship, is 
 steadily kept in view to the end, without a digression 
 to mar its consistent development : 
 
LAWS OF EOKM. 223 
 
 M Thou too, sail on, ship of state ! 
 Sail on, O Union, strong and great I 
 Humanity, with all its fears, 
 With all its hopes of future years, 
 Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! 
 We know what master laid thy keel, 
 What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel , 
 Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, 
 What anvils rang, what hammers beat ; 
 In what a forge and what a heat 
 Were shaped the anchors of thy hope! 
 Fear not each sudden sound and shock 
 'Tis of the wave and not the rock ; 
 Tis but the flapping of the sail, 
 And not a rent made by the gale 1 
 In spite of rock and tempest roar, 
 In spite of false lights on the shore 
 Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! 
 Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee , 
 Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, 
 Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, 
 Are all with thee, are all with thee." 
 
 Many of the finest allegories do not consist in the 
 deTelopment of a single metaphor, but in the combina- 
 tion of several cognate metaphors. In Bunyan's 
 "Pilgrim's Progress/' the fundamental metaphor is 
 the representation of a Christian by a pilgrim, but in 
 the course of its development several cognate meta- 
 phors are introduced, and likewise developed. The 
 same is true in Spenser's "Faery Queen," in which 
 personified vices and virtues are made to perform 
 their part in a series of allegoric adventures. 
 
 2. Allegory Distinguished from Allied 
 Forms. 
 
 Great confusion has resulted from a failure to dis- 
 
224 THE SCIEXCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 tinguisL tlip allegory from other forms of expression 
 somewhat similar, such as the myth, the fable, and the 
 parable. By some writers they are treated as almost 
 synonymous, by others they are variously distin- 
 guished. Properly considered, they are widely differ- 
 ent. The myth involves the blending of the innei 
 meaning and the outward symbol, presenting itself not 
 as the vehicle of truth, but as truth. Thus the myth 
 of the labors of Hercules does not pretend to be the 
 shadowing forth of some deeper meaning, such as the 
 passage of the sun through the twelve signs of the 
 zodiac, but literal fact. The myth is, therefore, an 
 unconscious allegory.* The allegory proper, the fable, 
 and the parable, agree in not claiming to be tlie truth, 
 but merely vehicles of the truth. The fable and the 
 parable are distinguished chiefly by this difference : the 
 fable recounts what is impossible if literally interpreted; 
 the parable is generally literally possible. This dis- 
 tinction does not hold with those who use the words 
 without discrimination. 
 
 3. Laws of Allegory. 
 
 As the allegory is composed of metaphors, the 
 principles- laid down as governing them separately, 
 apply when they are used in combination. Two prin- 
 ciples need to be more carefully observed. 
 
 (1) Development of the Eadical Metaphor. The 
 radical metaphor mast be strictly developed, without 
 any blending of plain and figurative expressions, 01 
 
 * For the myth of Hercules, see Anthem's Classical Dic- 
 tionary, art. Hercules. For the explanation of the unconscious 
 growth of myths, see Max Miiller's Chips, Vol. II., and Person 
 fication in this book. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 225 
 
 mixing o metaphors. The substitution of "girl" for 
 " rose " in the following, illustrates the confusion tb/it 
 would result from neglecting this law : 
 
 " You took her up a tender little flower, 
 Just sprouted on a bank, which the next frost 
 Had nipped ; and, with a careful loving hand 
 Transplanted her into your own fair garden, 
 Where the sun always shines ; there long she flourished, 
 Grew sweet to sense and lovely to the eye, 
 Till, at the last, a cruel spoiler came, 
 Cropt this fair rose, and rifled all its sweetness, 
 Then cast it like a loathsome weed away." 
 
 (2) The Analogy Evident. It is not less import- 
 ant that the analogy be evident. Since the resemblance 
 is one of ratios, if the radical metaphor is obscure, its 
 development will render it more so, and interpreting 
 power will not be economized. The allegory and the 
 enigma differ only in degree ; the difference being, 
 that in an enigma the meaning of the metaphorical 
 terms is so obscure as to be unintelligible. An alle- 
 gorical writer may easily become a Sphinx. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 FIGURES FOUNDED ON CONTIGUITY. 
 
 1. The Theory Explained. 
 
 In order to understand how figures of speech are 
 based on contiguity in time or space, a prefatory ex 
 planation of this form of association is necessary. " la 
 passing along a road which we have formerly traveled 
 in company with a friend, the particulars of the con- 
 versation in which we were then engaged are fre- 
 quently suggested to us by the objects we meet with. 
 10* 
 
226 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 In such a scone we recollect that a partieiJar subjecl 
 was started ; and in passing the different houses, and 
 .plantations, and rivers, the arguments we were ills- 
 cussing when we last saw them, recur spontaneous!) tc 
 the memory. The connection which is formed in tlu 
 mind between the different words of a discourse wo 
 have committed to memory, the connection between 
 the different notes of a piece of music in the mind of 
 the musician, are all obvious instances of the same law 
 of our nature."* A whole cannot be conceived without 
 parts, nor parts without a whole ; every thing being 
 either a cause or an effect, or both, nothing can be 
 thought of without implying an antecedent or a conse- 
 quent. Thus " local contiguity binds up objects other 
 wise unconnected into a single object of perceptive 
 thought." f Of the objects so united in our thoughts, 
 some are more simple and concrete than others, hence 
 interpreting power is economized by selecting the 
 former for figurative expression. 
 
 2. Forms of Contiguity. 
 
 Contiguity assumes three forms : (1) a whole is 
 related to its parts ; (2) an object is related to its ac- 
 companiments ; and (3) emotions are co- existent in the 
 mind. Each of these forms of contiguity is the basis 
 of one or more figures of speech. The relation of a 
 whole to its parts gives rise to Synecdoche ; the rela- 
 tion of an object to its accompaniments, to Metonymy 
 the co-existence of emotions, to Exclamation, Hyper- 
 bole, Apostrophe, and Vision. 
 
 * Dugald Stewart, Works, II. 
 
 f Sir William Hamilton's Metaphysics. 
 
LAWS OF FOKM. 22? 
 
 I. SYNECDOCHE. 
 1. Forms of Synecdoche. 
 
 This figure has three forms : (1) a part is put foi 
 the whole of an object ; (2) the whole is put for a part ; 
 and (3) the material is put for the thing itself. 
 
 (1) A Part for the Whole. There is a clear econ- 
 omy of interpreting power in the first form of synec- 
 doche. Whenever any object is mentioned, some pur- 
 pose is aimed at. The nature of this purpose determines 
 the view taken of the object. Some one part must be 
 more suggestive of this view than any other. Thus 
 man may be variously designated by one of his parts, 
 according to the view taken of him. Considered as a 
 messenger bearing good news, we may say of him, 
 " How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the 
 gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things ;" 
 viewed as demanding bodily sustenance, ''This officer 
 has a thousand mouths to feed ; " contemplated merely 
 as a worker, " All hands were busily occupied;" 
 regarded simply as a human being, " Eight souls were 
 saved." Thus we may continue to abstract this or that 
 part, according to our purpose. 
 
 In all these cases there is an obvious force resulting 
 from the designation of a part. That which is perti- 
 aent is brought directly to the attention ; that which is 
 irrelevant is kept out of view ; the simple takes the 
 place of the complex, the specific of the abstract. 
 Hence the obvious principle, that the part most sug 
 gestive of the specific view should be selected. 
 
 (2) The Whole for a Part. Sometimes, on the 
 contrary, there is an economy of interpreting power in 
 
228 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 using the whole for a part. There is here danger of 
 violating the principle, that the specific is more expres- 
 sive than the general. But there are cases where a 
 general word is very important. The breadth of in- 
 clusion renders an expression more forcible when the 
 intention is to heighten the effect by implying vast ex- 
 tent or magnitude. To speak of the " Eoman nation" 
 does not impress the mind with the grandeur and ex- 
 tent of the empire which embraced nearly every civil- 
 ized land, so well as to say, " the Roman world." So 
 " the country is in arms," " the whole land was aglow 
 with excitement," "the nation awoke with indigna- 
 tion," are much more expressive of a universal move- 
 ment than to speak of " men," " patriots," etc. 
 
 (3) The Material for the Object. The material of 
 an instrument may be more expressive of the idea than 
 the outlines associated with its proper name, and hence 
 the third form of synecdoche often has an economic 
 value. Thus "gold" is often more suggestive than 
 "money." In the following stanza "steel" is better 
 than " stvord," as suggestive of the fineness of edge 
 which a steel blade is capable of taking : 
 
 ' The wounds that are dealt by that murderous steel 
 Will never yield case for the surgeons to heal." 
 
 II. METONYMY. 
 1. Forms of Metonymy. 
 
 Metonymy is the designation of an object by one ol 
 its accompaniments. Rhetoricians have divided and 
 subdivided metonymies until the most capacious mem- 
 ory would be taxed to retain them. They are as num- 
 erous as the various forms of accompaniment. A tluvt'- 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 229 
 
 fold classification will furnish Illustrative instances ol 
 this figure. Metonymies may be divided into the fol 
 lowing classes : (1) the effect is put for the cause or the 
 cause for the effect ; (2) the sign is put for the thing 
 signified ; and (3) the container is put for the tiling 
 contained. 
 
 (1) Cause and Effect. The connection of an effect 
 with a cause is an intuition of the human mind. The 
 effect may be'better or less known than the cause, ac- 
 cording to circumstances. Sometimes a complex and 
 obscure cause produces a simple and obvious effect 
 and, on the other hand, a simple and obvious cause 
 may produce a complex and obscure effect. A proper 
 metonymy uses the better known for the less known, 
 either the cause for the effect, or the effect for the 
 cause. In the words of Junius, " can gray hairs make 
 folly venerable?" the effect, "gray hairs," is pu'- for 
 the cause, old age, because the color of the hair is a 
 visible and inseparable characteristic of old age, while 
 old age is a mere abstraction. On the other hand, the 
 cause may be more suggestive than the effect.. Thus, 
 " They have Moses and the prophets^* is more expres- 
 sive than "They have the law and ihe prophecies," for 
 in this instance the persons are less abstract than the 
 terms "law" and "prophecies." 
 
 (2) The Sign and the Thing Signified- By as- 
 
 sociation certain signs and symbols become significant 
 of general notions. Thus "crown," "scepter," and 
 " purple," are indicative of sovereignty, because long 
 associated with it as its external concomitants and iep 
 resentative symbols. Proverbs naturally couch them- 
 selves in this form of metonymy. "The pen [literary 
 power] is mightier than the sword [military power]." 
 
230 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 (3) Container and Thing Contained. An economy 
 
 of mental processes, but more especially of time and 
 new words, is often secured by putting the container 
 for the contained. Thus we speak of the "table/' 
 meaning the eatables on it; of the "house/' meaning 
 its occupants ; of the "camp," meaning its tents and 
 equipage. 
 
 2. The Law of Selection. 
 
 The principle of economy in all metonymies re 
 quires the selection of that which best suits the pur- 
 pose of the idea. The mind has a tendency to unity 
 of conception, and hence to the rejection of all dis- 
 tracting details. Metonymy satisfies this tendency of 
 the mind by removing particulars that would compli- 
 cate thought, and by furnishing what is most necessary 
 to the conception to be formed. Like most other 
 figures of speech, it is not well adapted to strictly 
 scientific statements. 
 
 III. CO-EXISTENT EMOTIONS. 
 
 1. Meaning of Co-existent Emotions. 
 
 When two emotions, or an emotion and a percep 
 tion co-exist, they are associated by contiguity of time 
 i. e., as has been explained, by forming parts of the 
 same mental state. Joy, anger, surprise, and other 
 similar emotions, naturally express themselves in ev- 
 chimiitory and exaggerated forms. These forms be- 
 come associated with the emotions to which they corre- 
 spond. Hence, when the forms are used, they recall 
 the emotions with which they are associated in tho 
 mind. Thus they become exponents of the communi- 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 23] 
 
 cator's feelings,, tind assist the interpreter in under 
 standing with what intention the words are used. 
 
 2. Figures Founded on Co-existent 
 Emotions. 
 
 Co-existent emotions give rise to four kinds ol 
 figurative expression : (1) Exclamation, when the idea 
 is associated with strong emotion ; (2) Hyperbole, when 
 exaggerated statement is employed ; (3) Apostrophe, 
 when the idea is so vividly conceived as to lead to 
 direct address ; and (4) Vision, when the past or future 
 is conceived of as present. 
 
 (1) Exclamation, Not every exclamation is a fig- 
 ure of speech. The expressions Oh ! Alas ! and the 
 like are plain language, because they fail to' fulfill the 
 condition of figures, that one thing is expressed in the 
 f orm of another. Interjections are as natural ex- 
 pressions of feeling as verbs and nouns are respectively 
 of actions and objects. TUe primary and natural 
 expression of strong emotion is not ^proposition, but 
 an interjection. The proposition, subject, copula and 
 predicate, is the intellective form of utterance ; the 
 exclamation is the emotive.* When a proposition is 
 thrown into the interjectional form, i. e., is spoken or 
 written in tho manner of an interjection, the emotive 
 form of that particle is made the medium of expressing 
 an idea primarily intellective ; then it becomes figura- 
 tive. Hamlet, speaking in the prepositional form 
 would have said : "Man is a wonderful work ; noble 
 in reason, infinite in faculties, express and admirable 
 
 * For a valuable discussion of the Interjection, see Earle's 
 Philology of the English Tongue, Chap. iii. 
 
232 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 in form and moving, in action like an angel, in appre- 
 hension like a god, the beauty of the world, the para 
 gmi of animals." But filled with emotion by tlies* 
 high thoughts, Shakespeare makes him speak in tin 
 ihterjectional form : "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 
 like an angel ! in apprehension, how like a god ! the 
 beauty of the world ! the paragon of animals !" 
 
 (2) Hypsrbole. Emotion once excited, though 
 brief, is cumulative. As the eye runs along the ascend- 
 ing lines of some cathedral spire until it leaps into free 
 space, so emotion rising with indescribable swiftness, 
 is soon far above its primary causes. Hence exaggera- 
 tion is natural to imaginative and emotional people, who 
 conceive more vividly than facts allow, and speak even 
 more vividly than they conceive. The philosophy of 
 the figure is, that facts are measured by the strength 
 of the co-existent emotion, and hence, in expression, 
 are magnified to correspond witli the emotion. The 
 hyperbole is, therefore, a form of expression in which 
 one thing is said under the form of another more im- 
 pressive than itself. The intelligent hearer is aware 
 of this, and makes a due allowance. Saul and Jona- 
 than are represented as " swifter than eagles and 
 stronger than lions." Every intelligent reader knows 
 that this is said in the exaggerated form suggested by 
 strong emotion, and yet he feels, at the same time, that 
 by this very exaggeration that feeling of wonder and 
 admiration which prompted the form of expression is 
 communicated to himself. In this lies the value of the 
 figure in economizing interpreting power. 
 
 The hyperbole may be made one of the most forci* 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 233 
 
 ble helps to expression. Milton's fondness for it is 
 everywhere evident. Thus in "Comus" : 
 
 " I was all ear 
 
 And took in strains that might create a soul 
 Under the ribs of Death" 
 
 111 "II Penseroso" : 
 
 " Such notes as warbled to the string 
 Drew iron tears doion Pluto's cheek." 
 
 This happy instance in " Paradise Lost" is but one 
 of hundreds : 
 
 " He called 
 
 His legions, angel forms, who lay entranced 
 Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks 
 In Vallornbrosa." 
 
 Much of the brilliancy of humorous writing is de 
 rived from, hyperbole. Thus, in " Henry IV." Shake 
 speare makes Falstaff say : " There's but a shirt and & 
 half in all my company ; and the half shirt is two nap- 
 kins, tacked together, and thrown over the shoulders 
 like a herald's coat without sleeves." 
 
 Hood writes of a night so terrible that a Christian 
 farmer would not leave his scarecrow out of shelter ; 
 and Jerrold, of a man so unwisely benevolent that he 
 held his umbrella over a duck in a shower of rain. 
 
 No high purpose of style is subserved when a lady 
 speaks of a ' ' sublime lemonade," a " heart-rending cup 
 of tea," or "magnificent snup." The whole tendency 
 of such exaggeration is, to weaken the force of every 
 utterance of those who thus abuse speech, and finally 
 to emasculate language. 
 
 (3) Apostrophe. In the higher flights of imagi mo- 
 tion, the absent arc conceived of as present, the inani 
 
234 THE SCIEKCE OF BHETOBIC. 
 
 mate as living, the abstract as personal, and are di 
 rectly addressed. This figure is clearly allied to per 
 Bonification, with which it is often combined. Tho 
 national hymn "America" is in the apos trophic form, 
 and how much it owes to this may be seen by con- 
 structing a parody, altering 
 
 "My country, 'tis of thee," 
 
 to the third person. The use of this figure presupposes 
 elevated emotion, and would be absurd without it. 
 
 (4) Vision. Vision has sometimes been confounded 
 with apostrophe, but the two are entirely distinct. 
 While apostrophe consists in a direct address, vision 
 treats the past and the future as if they were the pres- 
 ent. It does not invoke, but describes. A striking 
 illustration is found in Edward Everett's description 
 of the perils of the Mayflower : 
 
 " Methinks I see it now that one solitary, adventurous ves- 
 sel, the Mayflower of a forlorn hope, freighted with the prospects 
 of a future state, and bound across the unknown sea. I behold 
 it pursuing with a thousand misgivings the uncertain, the tedi- 
 ous voyage. I see them now, scantily supplied with provisions ; 
 crowded almost to suffocation in their ill-stored prison ; delayed 
 by calms, pursuing a circuitous route. The awful voice of the 
 storm howls through the rigging; the laboring masts seem 
 straining from their base; *ne dismal sound of the pump is 
 heard ; the ship leaps, as it were madly from billow to billow; 
 the ocean breaks and settles with ingulfing floods over the 
 floating deck, and beats with deadening, shivering weight 
 against the staggering vessel." 
 
 3. Explanation of these Figures. 
 
 The figures founded on co-existent emotions have 
 been touched hastily, in ordei that their rationale 
 might be explained in one place. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 235 
 
 Sir William Hamilton has established the law, 
 enunciated by "Kant, that " v Knowledge and feeling,, 
 though always co-existent, are always in the inverse, 
 ratio of each oilier.' 1 This law explains the figures 
 founded on co-existent emotions,, and furnishes a 
 foundation on which to base laws for their use. All 
 these figures are products of strong emotion. The 
 strength of the emotions obliterates distinctions of fact 
 which are obvious to minds not thus aroused. In hy- 
 perbole, wide differences are overlooked ; in apostrophe, 
 the chasm between life and death, personality and in- 
 sensibility, is crossed with a leap; in vision, centuries 
 are swept out of view, and the past seems to coincide 
 with the present. Emotion of any kind is eclectic, ex- 
 cluding from view all that is not in harmony with it- 
 self, and intensifying and magnifying what is accordant 
 with itself. " When we are under a strong emotion, 
 all things discordant with it," says Bain, " are kept out 
 of sight. A strong volitional urgency will subdue an 
 opposing consideration actually before the mind ; but 
 intense feeling so lords it over the intellectual trains 
 that the opposing considerations are not even allowed 
 to be present. One would think it were enough that 
 the remote considerations should give way to the near 
 and pressing ones, so that the ( video meliora' might 
 still remain with the ' dcteriora sequor' ; but, in truth, 
 the flood of emotion sometimes sweeps away for the 
 moment every vestige of the opposing absent, as if 
 they had at no time been a present reality. Our feelings 
 not merely piay the part of rebels or innovators against 
 the canons of the past, they are like destroying Vandals, 
 who efface and consume the records of what has been." * 
 
 * The Emotions and the Will 
 
236 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 Originally produced by tlie contemplation of reali 
 ties, emotion stimulates the fancy, which "given tc airy 
 nothing a local habitation and a name ;" then, catch- 
 ing inspiration from its own creations, the dominant 
 emotion wholly influences the trains of thought, until 
 distinctions of space, time, cause and effect, and value, 
 are obliterated or transferred. An angry man sees nc 
 beauty in his foe, a lover no blemish in his mistress, an 
 enthusiast no fallacy in his theory. Thus also the poet 
 and the orator, when the "eye is with fine frenzy roll- 
 ing," construe the universe to suit their mood. Stars 
 and flowers become sisters, the trees and clouds assume 
 personality, the dead are recalled from the world of 
 shades, and are addressed as if living. To the fancy of 
 the poet, all this is momentarily real, and the inade- 
 quate expression of a truth beyond all powers of utter- 
 ance to express ; to the cool critic, who catches no spark 
 of the poetic fire, it is superlative nonsense. Hence 
 the realistic verdict of Bentham, in which he pro- 
 nounces poetry to be "misrepresentation in verse." 
 Hence also what is loudly applauded as oratory when 
 the enthusiasm of the assembly runs at full tide, seems 
 bombastic and insipid to the deliberate reader. 
 
 4. Laws of these Figures. 
 
 Two laws for the use of these strongly emotive fig- 
 ures grow out of their relation to the economy of inter- 
 preting power : (1) they aid the expression of strong 
 emotion, since exaggeration is naturally associated with 
 it ; and (2) they are effective only when preceded by 
 such trains of thought and feeling as will justify 
 exaggeration. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 23? 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 FIGURES FOUNDED ON CONTRAST. 
 1. The Theory of Contrast. 
 
 The mind is affected by a change from one state of 
 consciousness to another. The greatness and sudden- 
 ness of the change determine the degree in which the 
 mind is affected. Thus we are shocked by a sudden 
 transition from darkness to a bright light, or from hil- 
 arious joy to profound grief. This effect upon the 
 mind is owing to the principle of contrast. It is a law 
 of the mind that qualities contrasted are rendered more 
 striking:" If, for example, two pictures, one beautiful, 
 tEe~ollTer ugly, are seen at the same time, both the 
 loveliness of the one and the repulsiveness of the other 
 are magnified by the comparison. Contrast is particu- 
 larly adapted to the exhibition of x minute differences. 
 If we hold a candle between us and the noon-day sun, 
 the former will appear dark when compared with the 
 effulgence of the latter. If a piece of black cloth be 
 laid upon a substance truly black, the black cloth will 
 appear relatively gray. So when two thoughts or emo- 
 tions are brought into close proximity, and especially 
 when they are set in opposition by a balanced senten- 
 tial structure, the distinction between them will be 
 greatly magnified by the contrast. Xow, as the jewel- 
 ler displays the brilliancy of his wares by exhibiting 
 them on a black and non-reflecting back-ground, so the 
 writer may add attractiveness to his conceptions, and 
 economize the interpreting ^powers of his reader, by 
 employing the principle of contrast. 
 
238 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 2. Essentials of a Perfect Contrast. 
 
 A perfect contrast requires opposition or contrariety. 
 It also requires that the objects contrasted belong tc 
 the same generic class. We cannot contrast heat and 
 light, virtue and pleasure, because they belong to dif 
 ferent categories. The proper opposite of virtue is 
 vice. These belong to the same category, since they 
 are both states of moral character. Heat and cold 
 are in contrast, because they are states of temperature. 
 Hence a perfect contrast requires that the objects con- 
 trasted be of the same generic class, but the most 
 widely different of that class. 
 
 3. Figures Founded on Contrast. 
 
 Contrast gives rise to two classes of figures : (1) 
 those in which there is an expressed contrast ; and (2) 
 those in which a contrast is implied. 
 
 I. EXPRESSED CONTRAST. 
 
 The figures in which two expressed ideas are con 
 trasted are Antithesis and Glim ax. 
 
 1. Antithesis. 
 
 (1) Tho Nature of Antithesis. Antithesis is a 
 form of expression which impresses an idea upon the 
 mind by bringing opposites into one conception. Thus, 
 in the sentence, " Gold cannot make a man happy any 
 more than rags can make him miserable ;" " Gold " and 
 ' rags," " happy " and "miserable " are set in opposi- 
 tion, in order to give a double illustration of the senti- 
 tent, " Happiness is not. dependent on what we pos- 
 eis." The resultant idea derived from both members 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 23^ 
 
 / 
 
 of an antithesis is, in force, not unlike a conclusion 
 that has been established by both negative and affirma- 
 tive proof. 
 
 (2) The Natural Form of Antithesis. Thejtorm 
 
 of the antithesis is naturally, but not necessarily, the"" 
 balanced sentence. This form of sentential structure, 
 renders the opposition more evident to the eye or ear 
 thus insuring the perception of the antithetical effect. 
 Thus, in the sentence, "Faithful are the wounds of a 
 friend, but deceitful are the kisses of an enemy ;" the 
 opposition of like parts of speech, "faithful" and 
 "deceitful" " wounds" and "kisses" "friend" and 
 "enemy" and the corresponding length of the two 
 members, give additional force to the antithesis of 
 thought. The structure of the sentence has much to 
 do with the effect of the following stanza : 
 
 " In peace there's nothing so becomes a man 
 As mild be?iavior and humanity ; 
 But when the blast of war blows in our ears, 
 Let us be tigers in our fierce deportment." 
 
 Sometimes the antithesis lies almost wholly m the 
 structure of the sentence. Thus, in Pope's well-known 
 comparison of Homer and Virgil commencing, " Ho- 
 mer was the greater genius, Virgil the better artist ;" 
 there is no contrast of opposition between "genius" 
 and "artist," "man" and "work," "profusion" and 
 "magnificence." Frequently there is real antithesis 
 without the balanced structure. Thus the innocence 
 of Lucretia and the violence of Sextus are* contrasted 
 in these lines : 
 
 '* Now look ye where she lies, 
 That beauteous flower, that innocent sweet roae, 
 Torn up by ruthless violence." 
 
240 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 (3) Laws of Antithesis, The nature of antithesis 
 renders easy the deduction of two laws : (1) since the 
 balanced form displays the contrast most clearly, inter- 
 preting power is economized by uniformity in the 
 length and structure of the contrasted members ; and 
 (2) since the antithetical form becomes monotonous 
 from this uniformity, antitheses should not be very 
 frequent. 
 
 2. Climax. 
 
 Climax, or the rhetorical ladder, consists in such an 
 irrangement of ideas in a series as to secure a gradual 
 increase of impressiveness. It is based on the principle 
 Df contrast. Antithesis contrasts objects by bringing 
 them together in opposition ; climax contrasts objects 
 by exhibiting their degrees of difference through a se- 
 ries of intermediates. u It is observed by all travelers 
 who have visited the Alps, or other stupendous moun- 
 tains, that they form a very inadequate notion of the 
 vastness of the greater ones, till they ascend some of 
 the less elevated, (which yet are huge mountains), and 
 thence view the others still towering above them. And 
 the mind, no less than the eye, can not so well take in 
 and do justice to any vast object at a single glance, as 
 by several successive approaches and repeated com- 
 parisons." * 
 
 Cicero has used the climax with great effect in his 
 " Oration against Verres." Withholding the real 
 crime for a moment, he refers to the atrocity of lesser 
 offenses, thus magnifying the guilt of Verres by a se- 
 ries of contrasts : " It is an outrage to bind a Roman 
 citizen ; to scourge him is an atrocious crime ; to put 
 
 * Whately's Rhetoric, Part II. Chap. ii. 4. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 241 
 
 him to death is almost parricide ; but to CRUCIFY him 
 what shall I call it ?" 
 
 II. IMPLIED CONTRAST. 
 
 The figures in which an expressed idea is contrasted 
 with an implied opposite are EPIGRAM, INTERROGA- 
 TION and IRONY. 
 
 1. Epigram. 
 
 The epigram, like the antithesis, is based on an ob- 
 vious contrariety. Primarily the word meant an inscrip- 
 tion- on a monument. It is used also to signify any 
 terse or pointed expression. It is here employed in a 
 special sense, to^ designate those forms of expression 
 in which there is a contradiction between the real 
 and the apparent moaning ; as, " Verbosity is cured 
 by a wide vocabulary ;" " Conspicuous for absence; 99 
 "Some are too foolish to commit follies." 
 
 That such apparent contradictions have any tend- 
 ency to economize interpreting power is not clear. 
 They possess two qualities which in part compensate 
 foFtlieTr contradictory character. They are necessarily 
 brief, so that the mind is not confused with a compli- 
 ea'tecl structure ; and, appearing to violate a law of 
 thought, thejjstmmlate to unusual interest.. A series 
 of epigrams rapidly delivered would be unintelligible. 
 A style too epigrammatic is generally wearisome. Such 
 a style is better adapted to be a depository of thought 
 than to be a medium of communication, since, when 
 the sense is once grasped, the brevity and paradox of 
 the form of expression fix it in the memory. The__epi-_ 
 gram, therefore, is the natural garb of the proverb. 
 11 "~~ 
 
242 THE SCIENCE OE KKE10RIO. 
 
 2. Interrogation. 
 
 An interrogaticua may be a part of plain speech, Ii_ 
 
 becomes figurative when it is an affirmation in the foj ir 
 of a question. Thus, "Shall not the Judge of all the 
 earth do right ? " is meant to be an emphatic affirma- 
 tion that He will do right. The reason of the empha- 
 sis in the interrogative form is obvious. It has been 
 shown that differences are more evident when contra- 
 ries are brought into one conception. The interroga- 
 tion forces upon the attention at once both an affirm- 
 ative and a negative answer. Thus the affirmative and 
 negative answers are brought into contrast, and the 
 affirmative is admitted from the impossibility of the 
 negative. 
 
 3. Irony. 
 
 Irony also involves the principle of contrast. It 
 consists in putting an assumption in the place of a 
 known truth, that the truth may be made more im- 
 pressive by the contrast. A single example, from 
 Whit tier, will illustrate this : 
 
 " What has the gray-haired prisoner done? 
 Has murder stained his hands with gore? 
 Not so. His crime's a fouler one 
 God made the old man poor." 
 
 Here the poet, pleading for the abolition of im 
 prisonment for debt, represents poverty as a crime. 
 That it is not a crime to be born poor is self-evident, 
 bat its guiltlessness is made the clearer by beini.' 
 brought into the same view with murder, from which 
 it "is so different. The contrast is heightened by rep- 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 243 
 
 resenting poverty as a fouler crime than murder. 
 Hence we may conclude, that irony depends upon the 
 
 contrast between the truth and an assumption. Con- 
 clusive proof of this is found in the fact, that a state- 
 ment is not recognized as ironical if its untruthfulnesi 
 'a not apparent 
 
ECONOMY OF THE FEELINGS. 
 
 1. The Effect of Words on the Sensibilities. 
 
 WE have seen how language must be framed in 
 order to economize the powers of ii^rpwtgj^nj we 
 have now txTconsider how the power of feeling may be 
 economized. 
 
 Words as mere sounds, apart from their meaning, 
 have an effect upon the sensibilities. Some combina- 
 tions of words are agreeable, others disagreeable, to the 
 listener, and, by an unavoidable association, even to the 
 silent reader. It is clear, then, that forms of expres- 
 sion, aside from their sense, may mar the realization of 
 the idea, either by producing feelings which divert the 
 attention from it, or which are not in harmony with it. 
 The state of feeling best adapted to interpretation is 
 that of agreeable stimulation derived from the easy and 
 uninterrupted movement of the machinery of expres- 
 sion. As soon as the words grate upon the ear, or the 
 construction halts, we are conscious of a disagreeable 
 feeling, and a consequent inability to use all our 
 powers in realizing the idea. 
 
 2. Hamilton's Theory of the Feelings. 
 
 Sir William HamiljpH^in his theory of pleasure and 
 pain, regards agreeable and disagreeable feelings as the 
 
LAWS OP FORM. 245 
 
 results respectively of a norma. or an abnormal activity 
 of natural powers. He says : 
 
 " By relation to the object about which it is con- 
 versant, an energy is perfect, when this object is of 
 such a character as to afford to its power the condition 
 requisite to let it spring to full spontaneous activity ; 
 imperfect, when the object is of such a character as 
 either, on the one hand, to stimulate the power to a 
 continuance of activity beyond its maximum of free 
 exertion ; or, on the other hand, to thwart it in its 
 tendency towards this its natural limit. An object is, 
 consequently, pleasurable or painful, inasmuch as it 
 thus determines a power to perfect or imperfect 
 energy." * 
 
 3. Application of the Theory to Expression. 
 
 Now, since expression exists for the idea merely, 
 and since the realization of the idea affords to the mind 
 its natural play of activity, every diversion of the mind 
 caused by the form of expression which does not assist 
 in revealing the idea, determines an imperfect energy, 
 which is disagreeable. Hence the highest activity in 
 realizing the idea depends on the economy of the feel- 
 ings, by removing all causes of diversion and discord. 
 Any activity prolonged beyond what is customary, be- 
 comes disagreeable ; hence the law of Variety. The 
 simultaneous exertion of the same faculty in contrary 
 directions is disagreeable ; hence the law of Harmony. 
 These two laws will be more fully illustrated in thi 
 following sections. 
 
 * Metaphysics. 
 
246 THE SCIENCE OF KHETORIO. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 VARIETY. 
 
 1. The Necessity of Variety. 
 
 Every part of our physical organization has a 
 definite amount of force to be used in sensation, and 
 when, by prolonged exertion, this force is expended, 
 pain takes the place of pleasure. What is true of our 
 bodies is true analogically of our minds. Experience 
 teaches that mental activities which once gave delight, 
 produce pain when greatly prolonged. How great a 
 prolongation may be pleasurably endured, depends 
 greatly on habit. The sounds of many northern dia- 
 lects which are so unpleasant to us, are musical to 
 those who have heard them from childhood. Our own 
 speech would grate upon an Italian ear, unaccustomed 
 to so many and difficult combinations of consonants. 
 But, although habit and training create wide differ- 
 ences in the sensibilities of men, it is a demand of 
 universal human nature that we vary the powers em- 
 ployed " in any activity, and also the mode of their 
 employment. Hence the necessity of variety in style. 
 
 2. The Applications of Variety. 
 
 Variety is necessary in all the elements of expres- 
 sion. We shall notice its application to the following : 
 (1) Letters; (2) Words and Syllables ; (3) Sentences, 
 and (4) Figures. 
 
 I. LETTERS. 
 In the combination of letters the la?7 of variety ma) 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 24* 
 
 be violated in two ways : (1) by the cumulation of 
 Consonants ; and (2) by the cumulation of Vowels. 
 
 1. The Cumulation of Consonants. 
 
 Too many consonants taken together tax the powers 
 disagreeably, as may be seen in such words as tioelftlis, 
 hundredths, sixthly, strengthenedst. These words are 
 not only difficult to pronounce, but they are unpleasant 
 to the ear. Whether their unpleasantness to the ear is 
 owing wholly to an association of the Found with the 
 difficulty of utterance, or partly to ? straining of a 
 perceptive power beyond its habitual limit, is a curious 
 question whose decision would not practically affect the 
 law of variety. There may be some reason to suppose 
 the latter, from the fact that no ono of these letters is 
 disagreeable if sounded by itself, and that any letter 
 becomes disagreeable if repeated continually. 
 
 A succession of consonants of different orders ren- 
 ders the effect still more disagreeable. Mutes are di- 
 vided into surd and sonant, according as they are 
 formed of voiced or unvoiced breath. The transition 
 of the vocal organs from the production of a surd to 
 the production of a sonant, is difficult. Thus it is im 
 possible to pronounce the syllable sft/#, without making 
 the "f" a "v," or the "d" a < t." 
 
 2. The Cumulation of Vowels. 
 
 A succession of vowels produces a hiatus which is 
 lisagreeable. Hence the tendency to separate them by 
 the insertion of a consonant- *xs, an ox, an army, 
 rather than, a ox, a army. 
 
248 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 II. WORDS AND SYLLABLES. 
 
 Variety in the use of words and syllables is violaied 
 (1) by the recurrence of the same sound, Tautophony 
 and (2) by the recurrence of the accent at regula* 
 intervals, Meter. 
 
 1. Tautophony. 
 
 (1) Offensive Tautophony. The unpleasant effect 
 of the repetition of the same sound in the following 
 sentence is felt at once : " The Captain ordered the 
 Orderly to order the ordnance arranged in order." 
 The substitution of synonyms for some of these words 
 improves the effect. 
 
 The recurrence of the same syllable often be- 
 comes offensive. Thus holily, lowlily, uniform for- 
 mality) are unpleasant to the ear. Dr. Johnson says : 
 " Tediousness is the most fatal of all faults" Here 
 the first two words hiss sharply, and the sentence ends 
 with an unmelodious repetition of " aL" Clearness of 
 meaning sometimes renders such collocations difficult 
 to avoid. 
 
 (2) Intentional Tautophony. In alliterative and 
 consonantal rhyme, tautophony is purposely employed. 
 How such repetition of sounds becomes subservient to 
 expression will presently appear. 
 
 1) Absenoe of Intentional Rhyme in the Classic 
 Languages, Mr. Marsh observes that " It has been 
 thought singular that with the multitude of like ter- 
 minations, and the great sensibility of the Greek and 
 Latin ear, neither rhyme, alliteration, nor accent 
 should have become metrical elements, but that, on the 
 
LAWS OP FOUM. 249 
 
 contrary, repetition of sound in all its forms should 
 have been sedulously avoided."* He then offers the 
 following explanation of this fact : " The frequent re- 
 urrence of like sounds in those languages was una- 
 /oidable ; ifc was a grammatical necessity, and if such 
 sounds had been designedly introduced as rhymes, and 
 thus made still more conspicuous, they could not but 
 have been as offensive to the delicacy of ancient ears as 
 excessive alliteration is to our own. To them such 
 obvious coincidences appeared too gross to be regarded 
 as proper instrumentalities in so ethereal an art as 
 poetry, and they constructed a prosody depending 
 simply on the subtilest element of articulation, the 
 quantity or relative length of the vowels." 
 
 2) Reason of this Absence. The absence of in- 
 tentional rhyme in Greek and Latin poetry results not 
 so much from its grossness as from its inutility. In 
 English, rhyme is a real auxiliary of poetic expression. 
 That there is something persistent in it, is evident 
 from the fact that it has triumphed over the violent 
 opposition of Sir Philip Sidney, Ben Jonson, and Mil- 
 ton. Rhyme came into our language as a constituent 
 element of poetry just at the time when English was 
 passing, or, more strictly, had passed from an inflected 
 to an uninflected form of speech. Latin contain? 
 many more rhyming words than any other spoken Ian 
 guage, but Italian contains four times as many as Eng- 
 lish, and Spanish six times as many as English. 
 Ilhyme becomes subservient to poetical expression by 
 the fewness of rhyming words. In a language so poor 
 in rhymes as English, rhyme economizes expectant at- 
 tention by the regular introduction of corresponding 
 
 * Lectures on the English Language. 
 
 11* 
 
250 THE SCIENCE OF RfiETORtO 
 
 forms. When one of the rhyming words is given, we 
 can almost predict what its mate will be. We cannot 
 indeed, always name the exact word, but, since the 
 conditions of the case limit the number of possible 
 words, we are prepared for a word of a certain kind. 
 fn Spanish, words have on the average twenty-five 
 rhymes each. It is clear that in Latin the number 
 would be so great as to afford no clew to what word 
 would be given. Hence the Romans never intention- 
 ally or spontaneously wrote rhyme. In English, words 
 average only three rhymes each. Hence, since the 
 language has "lost its inflections, rhyming poems are 
 .he most common. Knowing the ending of a rhyming 
 word before it is given, we are in possession of the 
 ftrhole before it is pronounced, and accordingly have a 
 fraction of time to dwell upon the idea expressed. An 
 experimental test of this prediction of a word may be 
 made by causing some lines of poetry to be read aloud. 
 The regular recurrence of corresponding syllables re- 
 lieves the listener of a certain amount of attention. 
 That economized attention may be devoted to the re- 
 .Jization of the ideas. This economy of expectant 
 attention depends on the regularity of the rhyme. 
 Here is another reason why rhymes are not common iu 
 innVcted languages, since they would occur in the mid- 
 dle of lines as well as at the end. In English, the 
 regularity compensates for the lack of variety. Nor is 
 fcho regular recurrence of rhyme a serious violation of 
 variety, for different sounds intervene between the 
 rhyming words. 
 
 3) The Adaptation of Ehyme to Poetry. We 
 
 find here also an explanation of the adaptation of 
 rhymed verse to poetic ideas. Emotion is a subjective 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 251 
 
 state, and is interrupted by any objective diversion of 
 the attention. Pain and grief for example are forgot 
 ton when the mind is occupied with externals. But 
 rhyme, hy the economy of expectant attention, reduces 
 the causes of diversion ; for, substituting the regularity 
 of periodic consonance for the irregularity of prose, 
 it leaves the mind more completely absorbed in the 
 contemplation of emotive images. 
 
 2. Meter. 
 
 The regular recurrence of the accent constitutes 
 meter. This regular movement economizes expectant 
 attention by the certainty that a definite structure will 
 follow. 
 
 (1) Proof of the Value of Meter, A proof that the 
 
 structure is anticipated is found in the fact that a shock 
 of disappointment is felt when the meter is imperfect. 
 One may descend a flight of steps in the dark with 
 vapidity and safety, if the steps are all equal, but one 
 is sure to be impeded by inequalities. Why is this ? It 
 is evidently owing to the certainty of uniformity in the 
 steps, and the consequent removal of the necessity for 
 constant attention. In other words, it is the economy 
 of expectant attention. So in a metrical composition, 
 die uniformity of structure relieves the mind from ex- 
 pectant attention. 
 
 (2) Example. An example will illustrate this state- 
 ment. The following description in prose demands 
 some attention to the irregular construction of the sen- 
 tences, which abstracts just so much power from the 
 total ability of the mind to feel the beauty of the scene 
 described : 
 
 " The sinuous paths of moss and lawn that lie across 
 
252 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 and along through this gai den, some at once ojvn to 
 the breeze and the sun, some lost among bowers of 
 blossoming trees, were all paved with delicate bells and 
 daisies, as fair as the fabulous asphodels, and flowerets, 
 drooping as day drooped, that fell into blue, purple, 
 and white pavilions, to roof the glow-worm from the 
 dew of evening." 
 
 See now how much more impressive the loveliness oi 
 this scene becomes, when the poet's art, by rhyme and 
 ineter, removes the necessity of attention to the sen- 
 tential structure : 
 
 " And the sinuous paths of lawn and moss, 
 That led through this garden along and acrosa 
 Some open at once to the sun and the breeze, 
 Some lost among bowers of blossoming trees, 
 Were all paved with daisies and delicate bells 
 As fair as the fabulous asphodels, 
 And flowerets drooping as day drooped too, 
 Fell into pavilions white, purple, and blue, 
 To roof the glow-worm from the evening dew." 
 
 (3) The Adaptation of Meter to Poetry. It ia 
 evident that meter is not so well adapted to the ex- 
 pression of pure thought as to the expression of pure 
 feeling, or the emotive images which produce feeling. 
 There is an incongruity between pure thought and any 
 uniform structure. A predetermined measure is a fet- 
 ter to the expression of abstract thought, and its stiff- 
 noss appears in the more purely thoughtful passages of 
 diaactic poetry. Meter often necessitates inversions 
 and transpositions which obscure the thought. Bhyme 
 limits the vocabulary too much for the exact expres- 
 sion of pure thought. Hence intellective statements 
 are awkward in verse. The expression of emotion, 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 253 
 
 however, finds in verse no real barrier. Emotion ia 
 less dependent on exact propositions, and arises more 
 from affecting images, which may be combined as 
 lendily in meter as without it. 
 
 (1) Rhythm. Rhythm differs from meter in re 
 quiring a less regular recurrence of accent. Aristotle 
 holds that every prose sentence should possess rhythm 
 but not meter. The practice of the best ancient 
 writers evinces an aesthetic perception of rhythmical 
 beauty seldom equaled by the moderns. 
 
 (5) Meter no Violation of Variety, Meter is an 
 
 apparent violation of the law of variety, but it is only 
 apparent. Thought requires freedom of movement 
 for its full and natural expression ; hence great variety 
 is essential to prose, and its proper movement is rhyth- 
 mical. Emotion is best produced by contemplating 
 a series of emotive images, without any abstraction of 
 he attention, hence its proper movement is metrical 
 6 The jerks, the breaks, the inequalities, and harsh 
 nesses of prose, are fatal to the flow of a poetical im- 
 agination, as a jolting road or stumbling horse disturbs 
 the reverie of an absent man. But poetry makes these 
 odds all even. It is the music of language answering 
 to the music of mind ; untying, as it were, ' the secret 
 soul of harmony.' Wherever any object takes such a 
 hold of the mind, by which it seeks to prolong and re- 
 peat the emotion, to bring all other objects into accord 
 with it, and to give the same movement of harmony, 
 sustained and continuous, or gradually varied accord- 
 ing to the occasion, to the sounds that express it this 
 is poetry. There is a deep connection between music 
 and deep-rooted passion. In ordinary speech we arrive 
 at a certain harmony by modulations of the voice ; in 
 
254 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 poetry the same thing is done systematically by a regu- 
 lar collocation of syllables." * Variety is necessary 
 even in verse, but it is variety in uniformity. The 
 cajsuras, emphases, and rhetorical suspensions break 
 the monotony of the measure. The distinction be- 
 tween the variety required in prose and in poetry is 
 based on this : feeling is a state, and must not be dis- 
 turbed ; thought is a process, and lives by motion. 
 
 III. SENTENCES. 
 
 Variety applies (1) to the length, and (2) to the 
 structure of sentences. 
 
 1. Length. 
 
 Dr. Blair's observations on this point can scarcely be 
 improved. He says : " If we would keep up the atten- 
 tion of the reader or hearer, if we would preserve 
 vivacity and strength in our composition, we must be 
 very attentive to vary our measures. . . Short sen- 
 tences should be mixed with long and swelling ones, to 
 render discourse sprightly as well as magnificent." f 
 Closeness of attention to musical effect may itself be 
 come a source of monotony by the too frequent repeti- 
 tion of a typical sentence which by itself is melodious. 
 Discords are purposely introduced into music to break 
 the monotony of excessive sweetness. 
 
 2. Structure. 
 
 Sentences similarly constructed soon become weari 
 some. Variety should extend to the distribution oJ 
 members and the cadence of the period. It has been 
 
 * Hazlitt's Lectures on Poetry, I -ecture I. f RJietoric. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 255 
 
 shown ihat the different kinds of sentence, the loose, 
 the periodic, and the balanced, have their peculiai 
 offices in expression. Variety in sentential structure is 
 -XT tain to follow from variety and affluence of ideas, 
 for each succeeding idea will naturally assume a form 
 corresponding to itself. Dr. Blair says truly : " To 
 have only one tune, or measure, is not much better 
 than having none at all. A very vulgar ear will enable 
 a writer to catch some one melody, and to form the run 
 of his sentences according to it; which soon proves 
 disgusting/ 7 * 
 
 IV. FIGURES. 
 
 Variety in the use of figures may be violated in two 
 ways : (1) by using such as are similar ; and (2) by 
 using them too profusely. 
 
 1. Similarity. 
 
 The repetition of any one kind of figure, such as 
 metaphor, climax, antithesis, or hyperbole, renders a 
 composition wearisome. This is especially the case 
 when they are drawn from one object. Trite similes 
 and metaphors want the charm of novelty, which is a 
 form of variety. 
 
 2. Profusion. 
 
 Too many figures of whatever kind produce a feel- 
 ing of satiety, as the palate is sated by immoderate 
 indulgence. Cicero says : "In all human things, dis- 
 gust borders so nearly on the most lively pleasures, that 
 we need not be surprised to find this hold in speech. 
 
 * Rhetoric. 
 
256 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 From reading either poets or orators we may easiljf 
 satisfy ourseh cs, that neither a poem nor an oration, 
 which, without intermission, is showy and sparkling, 
 can please us long."* Quintilian says of figures, that, 
 'as they beautify composition when they are season- 
 ably introduced, so they deform it greatly, if too fre- 
 quently sought after."! Crowding together many fig- 
 ures is certain to result in confusion, which, aside from 
 the violation of the law of variety, is a sufficient reason 
 for their moderate use. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 HARMONY. 
 
 It is a mysterious but universally known fact, that 
 harmony gives pleasure and discord pain. It is so in 
 music, in painting, and in architecture, as well as in 
 speech. This appears to be partly owing to the unity 
 of action of our faculties in receiving impressions. As 
 variety relieves them from too prolonged an exertion, 
 harmony secures unity in their action. There is, there- 
 fore, an economy of sensitive power when the constitu- 
 ents of a compound object so correspond as to allow a 
 harmonious action of the mental powers exerted upon 
 it. Hence the importance of harmony between the 
 idea and the medium in expression. The law of liar 
 mony applies (1) to Sounds, and (2) to Figures. 
 
 I. SOUNDS. 
 
 There has been much discussion of the question, 
 How far may sound be an echo to the sense ? Some 
 
 * De Oratore, L. IIL f Institutes, I. IX. 3. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 257 
 
 find numerous correspondences between words and 
 things. Others regard their connection as wholly im- 
 aginary, and, if there be any 'imitation, they deem it 
 as wholly accidental. It seems evident, after a careful 
 study of examples, that speech has an illustrative power 
 which depends on imitation or a very intimate and gen 
 eral mental association. Without attempting an ex- 
 haustive treatment of so technical a subject, we may 
 notice the illustrative effect of articulate language in 
 representing (1) other sounds ; (2) time and motion ; 
 (3) size ; (4) ease and difficulty ; (5) the agreeable and 
 the disagreeable ; and (6) climax in sense. 
 
 1. Other Sounds. 
 
 Some words unquestionably imitate natural inartir 
 alate sounds. Thus hiss, whiz, crash and splash, a? 
 ordinarily uttered, correspond closely to the noises foi 
 which they stand. There is certainly an onomatopoetk 
 effect in the following lines from Pope : 
 
 " What ! like Sir Richard, rough and fierce, 
 With arms, and George, and Brunswick crowd the verse 
 Rend with tremendous sounds your ears asunder, 
 With gun, drum, trumpet, blunderbuss, and thunder? 
 Then all your muse's softer art display, 
 Let Carolina smooth the tuneful lay, 
 Lull with Amelia's liquid name the nine, 
 And sweetly flow through all the royal line/' 
 
 The following is a fine imitation of the sounds mad 
 by falling timber : 
 
 14 Deep-echoing groan the thickets brown. 
 Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down." 
 
258 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 2. Time and Motion. 
 
 Quick time and lively motion are imitated by a 
 succession of light and tripping syllables ; as in the 
 
 line, 
 
 " When the merry bells ring round." 
 
 The galloping of a horse is suggested by the move- 
 ment of these lines : 
 
 " At each bound he could feel his scabbard of steel 
 Striking his stallion's flanks." 
 
 Slow motion is expressed in the line, 
 " Up the high hill he heaves the huge round stone." 
 
 Slowness of motion and dignity are indicated by 
 ambics, as in the following : 
 
 The list'ning crowd admire the lofty sound, 
 
 A present deity, they shout around, 
 
 A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound. 
 
 With ravished ears 
 
 The monarch hears, 
 
 Assumes the god, 
 
 Affects to nod, 
 And seems to shake the spheres/' 
 
 Quick time and motion are expressed by trochee^ 
 as in this song to the wine god : 
 
 " Bacchus ever fair and young 
 Drinking joys did first ordain. 
 Bacchus' blessings are a treasure 
 Drinking is the soldier's pleasure. 
 Rich the treasure, 
 Sweet the pleasure, 
 Sweet is pleasure after pain." 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 259 
 
 Rapidity and impetuosity may be represented in 
 anapaests, as in the following, where the intermingling 
 of iambics imparts a moody quality to the expression 
 
 " Revenge, revenge, Timotlieus cries, 
 
 See the furies arise 1 
 
 See the snakes that they rear, 
 
 How they hiss in their hair, 
 And the sparkles that flash from their eyes ! 
 Behold how they toss their torches on high, 
 How they point to the Persian abodes 
 And glittering temples of their hostile gods. 
 The princes applaud with a furious joy ; 
 And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy." 
 
 3. Size. 
 
 Size is capable of some imitation in words. Short 
 and easily sounded words are often expressive of little- 
 ness, while cumbrous and ill-formed words are suggest- 
 ive of bulk, and sonorous combinations sometimes 
 give rise to the feeling of grandeur. The following 
 from Milton illustrates how great bulk may be ex- 
 pressed in verse : 
 
 " Part, huge of bulk, 
 
 Wallowing, unwieldy, enormous in their gait, 
 
 Tempest the ocean." 
 
 4. Ease and Difficulty. 
 
 Pope forcibly illustrates the excessive labor with 
 which a dull writer " makes his barrenness appear," 
 
 " And strains from hard bound brains eight lines a year." 
 Ease of movement is suggested by these lines : 
 
 " Soft is the stream when Zephyr gently blows, 
 And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows." 
 
260 T1IE SCIENCE OF RHE10EIC. 
 
 5. The Agreeable and the Disagreeable. 
 
 Agreeable or disagreeable feelings are produced bj 
 melodious or unrnelodious sounds. How delightful are 
 Mic feelings aroused by such music as this of Whittier's f , 
 
 ' 1 love the old melodious lays 
 Which softly melt the ages through, 
 r l he songs of Spenser's golden days, 
 Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase, 
 Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew." 
 
 With what irritation do we hear such a line as this 
 " Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw." 
 
 6. Climax in Sense. 
 
 Perhaps the most effective correspondence betweer 
 Bound and sense occurs when a climax of meaning and 
 a climax of sound coincide. The following sentence 
 from Sterne admits of a vocal prolongation of the last 
 word, which adds much to the effect : 
 
 "The accusing spirit which flew up to Heaven's 
 Chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in ; and 
 the recording angel, as he wrote it down, dropped a 
 tear upon the word, and blotted it out forever." 
 
 Notice how completely the effect is lost by intro- 
 ducing a number of small and weak words at the close : 
 
 "The accusing spirit which flew up to Heaven's 
 Chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in ; and 
 the recording angel as he wrote it down, dropped a 
 tear on it, and blotted it out once for all." 
 
 Since every sentence should grow in the foice of its 
 meaning to the close, the principle forbids the use of 
 insignificant words at the end of a sentence, and re- 
 
LAWS OF POUM. 261 
 
 quires the longest and most sonorous members to be 
 placed last. 
 
 II. FIGURES. 
 
 Figures have various degrees of adaptability to the 
 purposes of expression. This regards (1) the kinds ol 
 figures; (2) their number; and (3) the objects from 
 ivhich they are drawn. 
 
 1, The Kinds of Figures, 
 
 Calm reasoning and deliberate description direct us 
 to the choice of figures founded on resemblance. The 
 simile especially is adapted to what is unimpassioned, 
 since to express a resemblance implies a somewhat de- 
 liberate discrimination. On the other hand, impetu- 
 ous passions, obliterating fine distinctions, and seizing 
 only salient points, impel us to the use of figures 
 founded on contiguity. Of figures founded on resem- 
 blance, the metaphor is most accordant with emotion, 
 especially personification, which is peculiar to an emo- 
 tional state of mind. The figures based on contrast 
 occupy a middle ground, but of these the antithesis is 
 the most deliberate, and climax, irony, and interroga- 
 tion are more emotive. Harmony, therefore, requires 
 the selection of such kinds of figures as correspond with 
 the ideas to be expressed. 
 
 2. The Number of Figures. 
 
 That there is a relation between ideas and the num- 
 ber of figures to be used, is evident.- Many figure? 
 crowded together confuse the understanding by their 
 want of harmony with one another. If constructed 
 for a common effect in producing emotion, they wilJ 
 
262 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 not on account of their number fail to produce that 
 emotion, unless they are greatly confused. Hence in 
 poetry, the language of feeling, we may properly use 
 figures in greater profusion than in prose, the language 
 >f thought. 
 
 3. The Source of Figures. 
 
 The objects from which figures are drawn should be 
 in keeping with the ideas to be expressed. The dignity 
 or meanness of an object from which a metaphor or a 
 simile is drawn, is readily transferred to the object de- 
 scribed. Dean Swift has made an extensive and hu- 
 morous collection of examples, illustrating how authors 
 may degrade instead of exalting their subjects by the 
 character of their figures. * 
 
 When figures grow out of the subject by what might 
 be called " spontaneous generation," harmony is almost 
 inevitable. Any attempt to lay them on as external 
 ornaments will make the expression seem artificial. In 
 nature, all life develops from a primal cell ; in expres- 
 sion, every thing should proceed by natural evolution 
 from a germ of thought. Thus a composition will 
 nave the unity and symmetry which mark an organic 
 growth. 
 
 The bestowment of excessive pains on the harmon^ 
 of the idea and the medium, is certain to result in 
 failure, just as a forced smile is certain to degenerate 
 into a foolish grin. Milton speaks of 
 
 " Thoughts that voluntary move 
 Harmonious numbers." 
 
 What are these thoughts ? When the feelings of a 
 * The Art of Sinking. Pope may have written this. 
 
LAWS OF FORM. 263 
 
 musical composer arc feeble and uncertain, lie strikes 
 the notes aimlessly, and his production possesses no 
 ilistinctive character. When his emotions are definite 
 and strong, he sweeps the key-board with a power of 
 expression which holds and thrills his audience. In 
 the first case, the emotions are dependent upon the 
 expression ; in the second, they are free, and use the 
 notes only as a means of utterance. So in verbal ex- 
 pression, thoughts vividly conceived, use the vocabulary 
 us an instrument, while sluggish ideas creep along by 
 the help of the language. Strong feelings and clear 
 thoughts are, therefore, the primary conditions of all 
 harmonious expression. Art may retouch and im- 
 prove in some instances, but such thoughts and feelings 
 will spontaneously assume those forms which harmonizi 
 with the ideas expressed. 
 
In the preceding pages the tf r*,ory of elective clis 
 course has been systematically e .plained. The practi- 
 cal application of the laws of discourse is twofold : (1) 
 they maybe used as criteria of judgment in Criticism , 
 or (2) they may be followed as guiding principles in 
 Construction. Skill in any u f t is the result of practice. 
 The ready apprehension of merits and defects in the 
 compositions of others, a:.d facility in applying the 
 principles of rhetorical science in our own works are to 
 be acquired only by careful and protracted exercise in 
 criticism and production. While it is true that prac 
 tice without principles constantly leads into error, it is 
 also true that principles without practice have only a 
 theoretical value. Hence great importance is attached 
 to the practical use of the laws of discourse both in 
 criticising the works of others and in original com- 
 position. After mastering the principles of Ehetoric, 
 the student is prepared to examine literary productions 
 with intelligent discrimination. He will be gratified to 
 find that all truly effective writing and speaking are in 
 accord with the laws which he has learned, and that 
 compositions which ignore these laws are faulty in the 
 degree of their departure from them. He will find 
 also that his own efforts will increase in real value in 
 proportion to his obsi'rvance of these laws. Each day's 
 
EXERCISES. W5 
 
 practice in criticism and production will contribute 
 somewhat to the improvement of the faithful student, 
 an til he will at length become a master of accurate, 
 methodical and effective composition. 
 
 To this end two kinds of exercises are added to tho 
 text of this book, the first critical, the second con- 
 structive. The first are intended to help the learner 
 in discovering the faults and excellences of others, the 
 second to assist him to realize in his own productions 
 the highest rhetorical qualities. 
 
 I. 
 
 EXERCISES IN CRITICISM. 
 
 The laws of discourse laid down in the preceding 
 pages are not conditions which simply may be fulfilled 
 in the best writing, but they must be observed in all 
 really excellent discourse. Like the principles of rea- 
 soning of which Logic treats, they are the essential 
 conditions of perfect results. Genius itself is not ex- 
 empt from them, but must ever be tested by them. 
 They are the only criteria of judgment by which we 
 may assign to a writer his true place in the republic of 
 letters. Just as great generals often lose battles, and 
 great statesmen adopt unwise measures, so great 
 writers often fail of a uniform perfection. Criticism, 
 however, alms to discover the merits as well as the 
 defects of a composition, and it is often more profitable 
 to observe how genius surmounts difficulties, than to 
 perceive how readily it stumbles into errors. Hence 
 the critical study of the masterpieces of literature in 
 all departments is of great practical utility. Extracts 
 of considerable length would be necessary to illustrate 
 12 
 
266 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 the application of the laws of mind, general and par 
 ficular. "Shaw's Choice Specimens of English Lit 
 erature" may be used in classes with great advantage. 
 A few selections may, however, be introduced lieie. 
 
 1. Criticise the following as specimens of De 
 /scription. 
 
 (1) Italy is the central one of the three great peninsulas 
 which project from the south of Europe into the Mediterranean 
 Sea, It is bounded on the north by the chain of the Alp?, 
 which form a natural barrier, and it is surrounded on the other 
 sides by the sea. Its shores are washed on the west by the 
 "Mare Inferum," or the Lower Sea, and on the east by the 
 Adriatic, called by the Romans the "Mare Superum," or the 
 Upper Sea. It may be divided into two parts, the northern 
 consisting of the great plain drained by the River Padus, or 
 "Po," and its tributaries, and the southern being a long 
 tongue of land, with the Apennines as a back-bone running 
 down its whole extent from north to south. The extreme 
 .cngth of the peninsula from the Alps to the Straits of Mes- 
 sina is 700 miles. The breadth of northern Italy is 350 miles, 
 while that of the southern portion is on an average not more 
 than 100 miles. But, till the time of the Empire, the Romans 
 never included the plain of the Po in Italy. To this country 
 they gave the general name of Gallia Cisalpina, or Gaul on 
 this (the Roman) side of the Alps, in consequence of its be- 
 jig inhabited by Gauls. Smith. 
 
 (2) Greece is deficient in a regular supply of water. Dur- 
 ing the autumnal and winter months the rain, which falls in 
 Urge quantities, fills the crevices in the limestone of the hills 
 ,md is carried off by torrents. In summer rain is almost un- 
 known and the beds of the torrents full of water in the winter 
 then become ravines, perfectly dry and overgrown with shrubs. 
 Even the rivers, which are partly supplied by springs, dwindle 
 in the summer to very insignificant streams. ' None of the 
 Grecian rivers are navigable, and the Achelous, which is the 
 most considerable of all has a course of only 130 miles. 
 
EXERCISES. 8fJ? 
 
 The chief productions of Greece in ancient timcM were 
 wheat, barley, flax, wine, and oil. The hills afforded excel- 
 lent pasture for cattle, and in antiquity were covered with 
 foiests, though they are at present nearly destitute of wood. 
 
 In almost every part of Greece there were rich veins of 
 marble, affording materials for the architect and the sculptor, 
 such as hardly any other country in the world possesses. The 
 limestone, of which most of its mountains is composed, is well 
 adapted for military architecture ; and it is to this hard and 
 intractable stone that we owe those massive polygonal walls, 
 of which the remains still crown the summits 'of so many 
 Grecian hills. Laurium near the southern extremity of Attica 
 yielded a considerable quantity of silver, but otherwise Greece 
 was poor in the precious rnetals. Iron was found in the range 
 of Taygetus in Laconia, and copper as well as iron near Chal- 
 cis in Eubcea. Smith. 
 
 (3) The ff/rcher is a kind of dog, somewhat resembling a 
 greyhound, and supposed to derive its origin from some of the 
 old rough-haired races of greyhound crossed with the shep- 
 herd's dog. It is lower, stouter, and less elegant than the 
 greyhound, almost rivals it in fleetness, and much excels it in 
 scent. It is covered with rough wiry hair, is usually of a 
 sandy red color, although sometimes black or grey ; and has 
 half-erect ears and a pendent tail. It is the poacher's favorite 
 dog, possessing all the qualities requisite for his purposes, in 
 sagacity rivaling the most admired dogs, and learning to act 
 on the least hint or sign from his master. Of course it is de- 
 tested by gamekeepers, and destroyed on every opportunity. 
 Chambers' Encyclopedia. 
 
 (4) In the centre of the court, under the blue Italian sky, 
 and with the hundred windows of the vast palace gazing down 
 upon it, from four sides, appears a fountain. It brims over 
 from one stone basin to another, or gushes from a Naiad's urn, 
 or spirts its many little jets from the mouths of nameless 
 monsters, which were merely grotesque and artificial when 
 Bernini, or whoever was their unnatural father, rirst produced 
 them ; but now the patches of moss, the tufts of grass, the 
 
268 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 trailing maiden-hair, and all sorts of verdant weeds that thrive 
 in the cracks and crevices of moist marble, tell us that Nature 
 takes the fountain back into her great heait, and cherishes it 
 as kindly as if it were a woodland spring. And, hark, the 
 pica 3>iii t murmur, the gurgle, the plash i You might hear 
 just those tinkling sounds from any tiny waterfall in the 
 forest, though here they gain a delicious pathos from the 
 stately echoes that reverberate their natural language. So the 
 fountain is not altogether glad, after all its three centuries ol 
 play ! Hawthorne. 
 
 (5) A chieftain's daughter seemed the maid ; 
 Her satin snood, her silken plaid, 
 Her golden brooch such birth betrayed. 
 And seldom was a snood amid 
 Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid, 
 Whose glossy black to shame might br^ng 
 The plumage of the raven's wic 
 And seldom o'er a breast so fair 
 Mantled a plaid with modest care ; 
 And never brooch the folds combined 
 Above a heart more good and kind. 
 Her kindness and her worth to spy, 
 You need but gaze on Ellen's eye ; 
 Not Katrine, in her mirror blue, 
 Gives back the shaggy banks more true 
 Than every free-born glance confessed 
 The guileless movements of her breast ; 
 Whether joy danced in her dark eye, 
 Or woe or pity claimed a sigh, 
 Or filial love was glowing there, 
 Or meek devotion poured a prayer, 
 Or tale of inj ury called forth 
 The indignant spirit of the North. 
 One only passion unrevealed 
 With maiden pride the maid concealed, 
 Yet not less purely felt the flame ; 
 O need I tell that passion 's name ! Scott. 
 
EXERCISES. 269 
 
 (6) Formed in the best proportions of her sex, Ro \vena 
 was tall in stature, but not so much so as to attract observation 
 on account of superior height. Her complexion was exquisi tel y 
 fair, but the noble cast of her head and features prevented the 
 insipidity which sometimes attaches to fair beauties. He 
 clear blue eye, which sate enshrined beneatn a graceful eye 
 brow of brown sufficiently marked to give expression to the 
 forehead, seemed capable to kindle as well as melt, to com- 
 mand as well as to beseech. If mildness were the more iiatura 1 
 expression of such a combination of features, it was plain that 
 in the present instance, the exercise of habitual superiority, 
 and the reception of general homage, had given to the Saxon 
 lady a loftier character, which mingled with and qualified 
 that bestowed by nature. Her profuse hair, of a color be 
 twixt brown and flaxen, was arranged in a fanciful and grace 
 ful manner in numerous ringlets, to form which art had prob- 
 ably aided nature. These locks were braided with gems, and 
 being worn at full length, intimated the noble birth and free- 
 born condition of the maiden. A golden chain, to which 
 was attached a small reliquary of the same metal hung round 
 her neck. She wore bracelets on her arms, which were bare ; 
 her dress was an undergown and kirtle of pale sea-green silk, 
 over which hung a long loose robe, which reached to the 
 ground, having very wide sleeves, which came down, how- 
 ever, very little below the elbow. This robo was crimson, 
 and manufactured out of the finest wool. A veil of silk, 
 interwoven with gold, was attached to the upper part of it, 
 which could be at the wearer's pleasure either drawn over the 
 face and bosom, after the Spanish fashion, or disposed as a sort 
 of d 1 ipery round the shoulders. Scott. 
 
 (7) The Romans, originally, were not only frugal, but they 
 dressed with great simplicity. In process of time, they be- 
 came extravagantly fond of elaborately ornamented attire, 
 especially the women. They wore a great variety of rings 
 and necklaces ; they dyed their hair, and resorted to expensive 
 cosmetics ; they wore silks of various colors, magnificently 
 embroidered. Pearls and rubies, for which large estates had 
 
270 THE SCIENCE OF ItHETOEIC. 
 
 been exchanged, were suspended from their ears. Their hail 
 glistened with a net-work of golden thread. Their slolae 
 were ornamented with purple bands, and fastened with dia 
 mond clasps, while their pallae trailed along the ground. 
 Jewels were embroidered upon their sandals, and golden band?, 
 pins, combs, and pomades .raised the hair in a storied edifice 
 upon the forehead. They reclined on luxurious couches,- and 
 rode in silver chariots. Their time was spent in paying and 
 receiving visits, at the bath, the spectacle, and the banquet. 
 Tables, supported on ivory columns, displayed their costly 
 plate ; silver mirrors were hung against the walls, and curious 
 chests contained their jewels and money. Bronze lamps 
 lighted their chambers, and glass vases, imitating precious 
 stones, stood upon their cupboards. Silken curtains were 
 suspended over the doors and from the ceilings, and lecticae, 
 like palanquins, were borne through the streets by slaves, on 
 which reclined the effeminated wives and daughters of the 
 rich. Their gardens were rendered attractive by green-houses, 
 flower-beds, and every sort of fruit and vine. Lard. 
 
 2. Criticise the following as specimens of Narra- 
 tion. 
 
 (1) Thick as standing corn, and gorgeous as a field of 
 flowers, were the Beloochees in their many-colored garments 
 and turbans. They filled the broad deep bed of the Fullail- 
 lee ; they were clustered on both banks, and covered the plain 
 beyond. Guarding their heads with large dark shields, they 
 shook their sharp swords, gleaming in the sun, and their 
 shouts rolled like a peal of thunder, as with frantic might 
 and gestures, they dashed against the front of the 22d. But 
 with shrieks as wild and fierce, and hearts as big, and arms 
 as strong, the British soldiers met them with the queen of 
 weapons, and laid their foremost warriors wallowing in blood. 
 Then also the few guns that could oe placed in position on the 
 right of the 22d, flanked by Henderson's small band of Mad- 
 ras sappers, swept diagonally the bed of the river, tearing the 
 rushing masses with a horrible carnage. Soon the Sepo} 
 
EXERCISES. #71 
 
 rgiments, 12th and 25th, prolonged the line of fire to the 
 left, coming into action successively in the same terrille man- 
 ner. Clibborne's grenadiers were distant, skirmishing with 
 the matchlock men in Kottree when they should have charged 
 
 hem : but that was their commander's fault. 
 
 Now the Beloochees closed in denser masses, and the dread 
 ful rush of their swordsmen was felt, and their shouts, an- 
 swered by the pealing musketry, were heard along the line, 
 and such a fight ensued as has seldom been told of in the 
 records of war. For ever those wild fierce warriors, with 
 shields held high and blades drawn back, strove with might 
 and valor to break through the British ranks. No fire of 
 small arms, no sweeping discharges of grape, no push of 
 bayonets could drive them back ; they gave their breasts to 
 the shot, their shields to the bayonets, and, leaping at the 
 guns were blown away by twenties at a time ; their dear. 
 rolled down the steep slope by hundreds ; but the gaps wer< 
 continually filled from the rear, the survivors pressed forward 
 with unabated fury, and the bayonet and the sword clashed 
 in full and frequent conflict. Napier. 
 
 (2) While the Christian princes were thus wasting each 
 others strength, Solyman the Magnificent entered Hungary 
 with a numerous army, and investing Belgrade, which was 
 deemed the chief barrier of that kingdom against the Turk- 
 ish arms, soon forced it to surrender. Encouraged by this 
 success, he turned his victorious arms against the island of 
 Rhodes, the seat, at that time, of the knights of St. John of 
 Jerusalem. This small state he attacked with such a numer- 
 ous army as the lords of Asia have been accustomed, in every 
 age, to bring into the field. Two hundred thousand men, and 
 a fleet of 400 sail, appeared against a town defended by a gar- 
 rison consisting of 5,OOQ soldiers, and 600 knights, under the 
 command of Villiers de I/Isle Adam, the grand master, whose 
 wisdom and valor rendered him worthy of that station at such 
 a dangerous juncture. No sooner did he begin to suspect the 
 destination of Solyman's vast armaments, than he dispatched 
 messengers to all the Christian courts, imploring their aid 
 
^72 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 against the common enemy. But though every prince in that 
 age acknowledged Rhodes to be the great bulwark of Chris- 
 tendom in the East, and trusted to the gallantry of its knights 
 as the best security against the progress of the Ottoman arms ; 
 though Adrian, with a zeal that became the head and father 
 of the Church, exhorted the contending powers to forget their 
 private quarrels, and, by uniting their arms, to prevent the 
 infidels from destroying a society which did honor to the 
 Christian name ; yet so violent and implacable was the ani- 
 mosity of both parties, that, regardless of the danger to which 
 they exposed all Europe, and unmoved by the entreaties of 
 the grand master, they suffered Solyman to carry on his opera- 
 tions against Rhodes without disturbance. The grand mas- 
 ter, after incredible efforts of courage, of patience, and of 
 military conduct, during a siege of six months ; after sustain- 
 ing many assaults, and disputing every post with amazing ob- 
 stinacy, was obliged at last to yield to numbers, and having 
 obtained an honorable capitulation from the Sultan, who ad- 
 mired and respected his virtue, he surrendered the town, 
 which was reduced to a heap of rubbish, and destitute of 
 every resource. Charles and Francis, ashamed of having 
 occasioned such a loss to Christendom by their ambitious 
 contests, endeavored to throw the blame of it on each other ; 
 while all Europe, with greater justice, imputed it equally tu 
 both. The Emperor, by way of reparation, granted the 
 Knights of St. John the small island of Malta, in which they 
 fixed their residence, retaining, though with less power and 
 splendor, their ancient spirit and implacable enmity to th<! 
 infidels.- Robertson. 
 
 (3) On Linden, when the sun was low, 
 All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; 
 And dark as winter was the flow 
 
 Of Iser rolling rapidly. 
 But Linden saw another sight, 
 When the drum beat, at dead of night, 
 Commanding fires of death to light 
 
 The darkness of her scenery. 
 
EXERCISES. 473 
 
 By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, 
 Each horseman drew his battle-blade, 
 And furious every charger neigh'd, 
 
 To join the dreadful revelry. 
 Then shook the hills, with thunder riven j 
 And, louder than the bolts of Heaven, 
 
 Far flash'd the red artillery. 
 But redder yet that light shall glow 
 On Linden's hills of stained snow, 
 And bloodier yet the torrent flow 
 
 Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 
 'Tis morn ; but scarce yon level sun 
 Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, 
 Where furious Frank and fiery Hun 
 
 Shout in their sulph'rous canopy. 
 The combat deepens. On, ye brave, 
 Who rush to glory or the grave ! 
 Wave Munich, all thy banners wave, 
 And charge with all thy chivalry ! 
 Few, few sLall part, where many meet ! 
 The snow shall be their winding sheet, 
 And every turf beneath their feet 
 
 Shall be a soldier's sepulchre. Campbell. 
 
 (4) I have mentioned that I saved the skins of all the 
 creatures that I killed, I mean the four-footed ones, and I had 
 them hung up stretched out with sticks in the sun, by which 
 means some of them were so .dry and hard that they were fit 
 for little, but others, it seems, were very useful. The first 
 thing I made of these was a great cap for my head, with the 
 hair on the outside, to shoot off the rain ; and this I per- 
 formed so well that, after, I made me a suit of clothes wholly 
 of those skins that is to say, a waistcoat, and breeches open 
 at the knees, and both loose, for they were rather wanting to 
 keep me cool than to keep me warm. I must not omit to 
 acknowledge that they were wretchedly made ; for if I was a 
 oad carpenter, I was a worse tailor. However, they were 
 such as I made a very good shift with, and when J was abroad 
 12* 
 
274 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 if it happened to rain, the hair of the waistcoat and cap being 
 outermost, I was kept very dry. 
 
 After this, I spent a great deal of time and pains to make 
 ao umbrella. I was indeed in great want of one, and had a 
 great mind to make one. I had seen them made in the 
 Brazils, where they are very useful in the great heats which 
 are there, and I felt the heats every jot as great here, and 
 greater too, being nearer the equinox ; besides, as I was 
 obliged to be much abroad, it was a most useful thing to me, 
 as well for the rains as the heats. I took a world of pains at 
 it, and was a great while before I could make any thing likely 
 to hold ; nay, after I thought I had hit the way, I spoiled twc 
 or three before I made one to my mind. But at last I made 
 one that answered indifferently well ; the main difficulty I 
 found was to make it let down ; I could make it spread, but 
 if it did not let down too, and draw in, it would not be port- 
 able for me any way but just over my head, which would not 
 do. However, at last, as I said, I made one to answer. I 
 covered it with skins, the hair upwards, so that it cast off the 
 rain like a penthouse, and kept off the sun so effectually that 
 I could walk out in the hottest of the weather with greater 
 advantage than I could before in the coolest, and when I had 
 no need of it I could close it, and carry it under my arm. 
 Defoe^s Robinson Crusoe. 
 
 3. Criticise the following Definitions, and sho\v 
 wherein they are defective. 
 
 (1) Life is vitality, the state of being alive, the opposite 
 of death. 
 
 (2) A triangle is half a parallelogram. 
 
 (3) A triangle is a figure having three rectilinear sides, 
 
 (4) A fish is an animal that lives in water. 
 
 (5) A parallelogram is a figure of four parallel and equal 
 sides. 
 
 (6) Capital is that portion of the produce of industry which 
 can be made directly available to support 1 iuman existence o? 
 fttcil'tate production. M 1 Gulloch. 
 
EXERCISES. 275 
 
 (7) Kent is what is paid for the license to gal her the pro- 
 duce of the land. Smith. 
 
 (8) A figure, in Rhetoric, is some deviation from the plair 
 and ordinary mode of expression, with a view of making thi 
 meaning more effective. Hart. 
 
 (9) A fallacy is any unsound mode of reasoning which 
 appears to demand our conviction, and to be decisive of the 
 question in hand, when in fairness it is not. Whatdy. 
 
 (10) Seethe definitions of Poetry given in the Introduction. 
 
 4. Criticise the following examples of Division, and 
 point out the defects. 
 
 (1) Government is either monarchical, democratic, or 
 aristocratic. 
 
 (2) All objects are animals, vegetables, or lifeless matter 
 
 (3) Europeans are white,, foreign-born, or descendants o. 
 foreigners. 
 
 (4) All men are either rational or unreasonable. 
 
 (5) Language is to be studied in three sciences : Gram- 
 mar, Logic, and Rhetoric. 
 
 (6) Plane figures are triangles, squares, polygons, circles 
 or ellipses. 
 
 (7) Sentences, considered rhetorically, are divided into 
 Periodic, Loose, Balanced, Short, and Long. Hart. 
 
 (8) Practical convenience is served by a reference to the 
 different occasions of Oratory ; each giving rise to a distinct 
 method and constituting a separate professional study. 
 
 I. The Oratory of the Law Courts. 
 
 II. Political Oratory. 
 
 III. Pulpit Oratory. 
 
 IV. Moral Suasion. Bain. 
 
 (9) We can know only (a) Substance, (5) Quantity, (c) 
 Qaality, (d) Relation, (e) Action, (/) Passion, (g) the Where, 
 (h) the When, (i) Position, (j) Possession. Aristotle. 
 
 (10) Written discourse, in prose, may be divided, accord- 
 ing to the subject itself and its just treatment, into Letters 
 History, Biography, Essays, and Prose Fiction. 
 
76 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 5. Criticise the following specimens of Exposition 
 
 through concomitant notions. 
 
 (1) To the question what the thing we speak of is, or what 
 this facetiousness doth impart ? I might reply as Democritua 
 d id to him that asked the definition of a man, 'Tis that which 
 we all see and know ; any one better apprehends what it is 
 by acquaintance than I can inform him by description. It is 
 indeed a thing so versatile and multiform, appearing in so 
 many shapes, so many postures, so many garbs, so variously 
 apprehended by several eyes and judgments, that it seemeth 
 no less hard to settle a clear and certain notion thereof, than 
 to make a portrait of Proteus, or to define the figure of a 
 fleeting air. Sometimes it lieth in pat allusion to a known 
 story, or in a seasonable application of a trivial saying, or in 
 forging an apposite tale : sometimes it playeth in words and 
 phrases, taking advantage from the ambiguity of their sense, 
 or the iffinity of their sound : sometimes it is wrapped in a 
 dress of humorous expression : sometimes it lurketh under an 
 odd similitude : sometimes it is lodged in a sly question, in a 
 smart answer, in a quirkish reason, in a shrewd imitation, in 
 cunningly diverting, or cleverly retorting an objection : some- 
 times it is couched in a bold scheme of speech, in a tart irony, 
 .n a lusty hyperbole, in a startling metaphor, in a plausible 
 reconciling of contradictions, or in acute nonsense : some- 
 times a scenical representation of persons or things, a coun- 
 terfeit speech, a inimical look or gesture passeth for it : some- 
 times an affected simplicity, sometimes a presumptuous blunt- 
 ness, giveth it being : sometimes it riseth from a lucky hit- 
 ting upon what is strange : sometimes from a crafty wresting 
 obvious matter to the purpose : often it consisteth in one 
 know? not what, and springeth up one can hardly tell how. 
 Its ways are unaccountable and inexplicable, being answer 
 able to the numberless rovings of fancy and windings of 
 language. It is, in short, a manner ctf speaking out of tht 3 
 simple and plain way (such as reason teacheth and provctli 
 things by), which, by a pretty surprising uncoutlmess ir 
 
EXERCISES. 277 
 
 Conceit or expression, doth affect and amuse the fancy, stir- 
 ring in it seme wonder, and breeding some delight Hereto. 
 Barrow. 
 
 (2) I call it atheism by establishment, when any state, as 
 such, shall not acknowledge the existence of God as a moral 
 governor of the world ; when it shall abolish the Christian 
 religion by a regular decree ; when it shall persecute with a 
 cold, unrelenting, steady cruelty, by every mode of confisca- 
 tion, imprisonment, exile, and death, all its ministers ; when 
 it shall generally shut up or pull down churches ; when in 
 the place of that religion of social benevolence, and of indi- 
 vidual self-denial, in mockery of all religion, they institute 
 impious, blasphemous, indecent, theatric rules, in honor of 
 their vitiated, perverted reason, and erect altars to the per- 
 sonification of their own corrupted and bloody republic ; 
 when schools and seminaries are founded at the public ex- 
 pense to poison mankind, from generation to generation, with 
 the horrible maxims of this impiety ; when wearied out with 
 incessant martyrdom and the cries of a people hungering and 
 thirsting for religion, they permit it as a tolerated evil I cal. 
 this atheism by establishment. Burke. 
 
 6. Classify and criticise the following Arguments. 
 
 (1) We differ from the leaf only in this circumstance, that 
 it would require the operation of greater elements to destroy 
 us. But these elements exist. The fire which rages within 
 may lift its devouring energy to the surface of our planet, 
 and transform it into one wide and wasting volcano. The 
 sudden formation of elastic matter in the bowels of the earth 
 and it lies within the agency of known substances to ac- 
 complish this may explode it into fragments. The exhala- 
 tion of noxious air from below may impart virulence to the 
 ir that is around us ; it may affect the delicate proportion oi 
 its ingredients ; and the whole of animated nature may wither 
 and die under the malignity of a tainted atmosphere. A 
 blazing comet may cross this fated planet in its orbit, and 
 realize all the terrors which superstition has conceived of it 
 
278 THE SCIENCE OF KHLTORIC. 
 
 We cannot anticipate with precision the consequences of an 
 event which every astronomer must know to lie within the 
 limits of chance and probability. It may hurry our globe 
 towards the sun, or drag it to the outer regions of the 
 planetary system, or give it a new axis of revolution. 
 - Chalmers. 
 
 (2) If a father, who, when he provides a home for his 
 children, fits it up with all the necessities and all the luxuries 
 which they can possibly need, gives indisputable evidence of 
 intelligence and love, then are those attributes to be ascribed 
 to Him who fitted up this world to be the home of his crea- 
 tures. This is seen, as already intimated, in the constitution 
 of the atmosphere, in the distribution of light and heat, of 
 electricity and magnetism, in the establishment of those laws 
 which secure the regular succession of the seasons, in the 
 preparation of soil by the disintegration of rocks, the falling 
 of rain, the deposition of dew which falls gently with life- 
 giving power on the thirsty earth ; in innumerable other 
 provisions and dispositions of the forces of nature without 
 which neither vegetable nor animal life could be sustained 
 There are many special provisions of this kind which fill the 
 mind with gratitude and wonder. It is a general law that 
 Dodies contract as they become colder. Water, however, 
 when it freezes expands and becomes lighter. If it were not 
 !or this benevolent exception to the general law, not only 
 would the inhabitants of all our rivers perish, but the 
 greater part of the temperate zone would be uninhabit- 
 able. Hodge. 
 
 (3) It has been frequently remarked, that the period of 
 the highest literary glory of civilized nations is generally 
 found to follow close on some remarkable or portentous 
 achievements in commerce of in war. Among the ancient 
 Greeks, the combination of great literary names in the age of 
 Pericles follows the defeat of the Persians. The Roman age 
 of Augustus, when that mighty nation was resting from her 
 conquests, produced the same galaxy of genius. In the same 
 way, the famous literary age of Louis XIV. was certainlj 
 
EXERCISES. S7S 
 
 prepared, if not produced, by the religions wars of the Re- 
 formation, and after the national enthusiasm had bivn e\< -iter. 
 by the success of the French arms in Germany and Flanders, 
 Inour own case, a gigantic revolution had been accomplished. 
 The intellect of England had been engaged in a violent 
 struggle for religious liberty, and the nation now started on 
 its race of poetical immortality. Graham. 
 
 (4) Julian, the emperor, united intelligence, learning, and 
 power, with a persecuting zeal, in a resolute effort to root 
 out Christianity. In the year 3G1, he composed a work 
 against its claims. We may be well assured that if any thing 
 could have been said against the authenticity of its books, he 
 would have used it. His work is not extant ; but from long 
 extracts, found in the answer by Cyril, a few years after, as 
 well as from the statements of his opinions and arguments 
 by this writer, it is unquestionable that Julian bore witness to 
 the authenticity < <f the four Gospels and of the Acts of the 
 Apostles. He concedes, and argues from their early date, 
 quotes them by name as the genuine works of their reputed 
 authors ; proceeds upon the supposition, as a thing undeni- 
 able, that they were the only historical books which Chris- 
 tians received as canonical the only authentic narratives of 
 Christ and his Apostles, and of the doctrine they delivered- 
 lie has also quoted, or plainly referred to, the Epistles to the 
 Romans, Corinthians, and Galatians, and nowhere insinuates 
 that the authenticity of any portion of the New Testament 
 could reasonably be questioned. M'llvaine. 
 
 (5) There is nothing more pernicious to the character than 
 to listen to flattery. It increases our vanity, gives us a false 
 idea of ourselves, and becomes an insurmountable barrier to 
 all improvement. For it is obviously impossible for any one 
 who believes all the fulsome adulation poured into his ear, to 
 make any progress either in knowledge or virtue ; and he ii 
 Mire at length to fall a victim to one who will profit by hia 
 folly. Had not the crow lent a willing ear to the artful in- 
 sinuations of the fox, she would not have had to moum 
 when too late, the consequences of her silly vanity. 
 
$80 THE SCIENCE OF KHETOKIC. 
 
 7. In the following exercises on the Barbarism 
 these questions should be asked : 
 
 (1) What is the ORIGIN of this word ? 
 
 (2) If foreign, has it been NATURALIZED ? 
 (3> If old, is it OBSOLETE ? 
 
 (4) Is it formed according to the ANALOGY of the language t 
 
 (5) Is it either TECHNICAL or LOCAL ? 
 
 (6) What AUTHORITY can be quoted for it ? 
 
 (1) The missionary work held Lota by a double chain ; it 
 was a birthright and a vocation that is, as far as other peo- 
 ple can wcate for a girl. Putnam' 1 s Magazine. 
 
 (2) The young but inactive half Mexican, who smiled at 
 Caleb's infrequent jokes and listened a good deal when Calet 
 orated and the boss of the schooner slept. Ovwland Monthly. 
 
 (3) As he saith, our whole life is a glucupicron, a bittei 
 sweet passion, honer and gall mixed together. Burton. 
 
 (4) I was chez moi, inhaling the odeur musquee of my scented 
 "boudoir, when the Prince de Z. entered. He found me in my 
 demi-toilette, blastfe sur tout, and pensively engaged in solitary 
 conjugation of the verb s'ennuyer ; and though he had never 
 been one of my habitufa, or by any means des notres, I was not 
 disinclined, at this moment of ddlassement to glide with him 
 into the crocchio ristretto of familiar chat. New Monthly 
 Magazine. 
 
 (5) When we came to settle for the wine. Howells. 
 
 (6) The invention described in yesterday's "Times," and 
 displayed on Saturday in Newark, by which a person who 
 may happen to be buried alive, is enabled to resurrect him- 
 self from the grave, may lead some people to fancy there is 
 actual danger of being buried alive. New York Times. 
 
 (7) It seems that this State, so quickly enthmed by the 
 generous loyal cause of emancipation, has grown weary of 
 virtuous effort, and again stands still. Baltimore American. 
 
 (8) The trials of the witches awaken, by turns, pity, in- 
 dignation, disgust, and dread dread at the thought cf what 
 
EXERCISES. 28) 
 
 the human mind can be brought to believe not only prob 
 able, but proven. Imeell. 
 
 (9) A fardel of never ending misery and suspense.- 
 
 (10) Mine ancient wound is hardly whole, 
 
 And lets me from the saddle. Tennyson. 
 
 &. In the following exercises on Homonyms, the 
 student should give all the possible meanings of the 
 words given. As language was spoken before it was 
 written, a word is a certain sound or combination of 
 sounds without regard to the spelling. 
 
 (1) Round, (2) Light, (3) Church, (4) Government, (5) 
 Truth, (6) Value, (7) Same, (8) Why, (9) Cause, (10) Reason, 
 
 (11) Authority, (12) Faith, (13) Time, (14) Person, (15) Cer- 
 tain, (16) One, (17) Experience, (18) Necessity, (19) Possi- 
 bility, (20) Law. 
 
 9. In the following groups of words, point out the 
 distinctions of meaning, giving especial attention to 
 the differential part of words having the same radical 
 
 (1) Corporal, corporeal. (2) Subtle, subtile. (3) Observ 
 ance, observation. (4) Construe, construct. (5) Prediction, 
 predication. (6) Learned, learned. (7) Stationary, station- 
 ery. (8) Inconsistent, incongruous, incoherent. (9) Sym- 
 pathy, compassion, commiseration, condolence. (10) Thwart, 
 oppose, resist, withstand. (11) Oculist, optician, eye-doctor. 
 
 (12) Custom, habit, usage. (13) Discover, invent. (14) By, 
 with. (15) Sufficient, enough. (16) Thoughtless, remiss, 
 careless, negligent. (17) Tenet, position, doctrine, creed, 
 dogma. (18) Social, sociable. (19) Opinion, belief, sciiti 
 ment, notion, idea. (20) Weak, feeble, infirm. 
 
 10. The following specimens of Tautology may be 
 corrected. 
 
 (1) Particularly as to the affairs of this world, integrity 
 hath many advantages over all the fine and artificial ways A 
 
282 THE SCTEKCE OF 
 
 dissimulation and deceit-; it is much the plainer and easu-r, 
 much fhe safer and more secure way of dealing with the 
 world ; it has less of trouble and difficulty, of entanglement 
 nd perplexity, of danger and hazard in it. The arts of de- 
 ieit and cunning do continually grow weaker, and less 
 effectual and serviceable to them that use them. Tillotson. 
 
 (2) It is impossible for us to behold the divine works with 
 coldness or indifference, or to survey so many beauties with- 
 out a secret satisfaction and complacency. Addison. 
 
 (3) In the Attic commonwealth, it was the privilege and 
 birthright of every citizen and poet, to rail aloud and in pub 
 lie. Swift. 
 
 (4) He [Pryor] had often infused into it [his style] much 
 knowledge and much thought ; he had often polished it into 
 elegance, often dignified it into splendor, and sometimes 
 heightened it to sublimity ; and did not discover that it 
 wanted the power of engaging attention, and alluring 
 curiosity. Johnson. 
 
 (5) The very first discovery of it; [beauty] strikes the mind 
 with inward joy, and spreads delight through all its faculties. 
 Addison. 
 
 (6) How many are there by whom these tidings of good 
 news were never heard. Bolingbroke. 
 
 (7) Never did Atticus succeed better in gaming the uni- 
 versal love and esteem of all men. Spectator. 
 
 (8) I could heartily wish there was the same application 
 and endeavors to cultivate and improve our church music as 
 have been lately bestowed on that of the stage. Addiso.i. 
 
 11. Correct the Redundancies in the following. 
 
 (1) Magnanimity and greatness of mind. Ferguson. 
 
 (2) The mysteries of the arcana of alchemy. I? Israeli. 
 
 (3) The vice of covetousness is what enters deeper into the 
 BOU! than any other. Guardian. 
 
 (4) There is such a thing as a man endeavoring to persuade 
 himself and endeavoring to persuade others, that he knows 
 ibout things, when he docs not know more Hum the outside 
 
EXEKCISfcS. 283 
 
 ikins of them ; and he goes flourishing about with them. 
 
 Carlyle. 
 
 (5) He is always delightfully fresh, because lie sets before 
 us the world as it honestly appeared to Geoffry Chaucer, and 
 not a world as it seemed proper to certain persons that it 
 ought to appear. Lowett. 
 
 (6) Aristotle's style, which is frequently so elliptical as to 
 be dry and obscure, is yet often, at the very same time, un- 
 necessarily diffuse. Whately. 
 
 (7) As has been formerly remarked, a well-chosen epithet 
 may often suggest, and therefore supply the place of an entire 
 argument. Whately. 
 
 12. Avoid the Circumlocution in the following. 
 
 (1) Pope professed to have learned his poetry from Dry- 
 den, whom, whenever an opportunity was presented, he 
 praised through the whole period of his existence with un- 
 varied liberality ; and perhaps his character may receive some 
 illustration, if a comparison be instituted between him and 
 the man whose pupil he was. Johnson. 
 
 (2) If one were called on to fix the period in the history 
 sf the world during which the condition of the human race 
 was most happy and prosperous, one would, without hesita- 
 tion, name that which elapsed from the death of Domitian 
 to the succession of Commodus. Gibbon. 
 
 13. Criticise the Arrangement of words in the 
 following. 
 
 (1) All that is favored by good use is not proper to be 
 etained. Lindley Murray. 
 
 (2; I allude to the article " Blind," in the Encyclopedia 
 Britannica, published at Edinburgh in the year 1783, which 
 was written by him. Mackenzie. 
 
 (3) And these are inserted by the compositors without the 
 slightest compunction. Alford. 
 
 (4) \ man does not lose his mother now in the papers. 
 Alford. 
 
284 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 (5) I only bring forward some things. Alford. 
 
 (6) I remember when the French band of the " Guides * 
 were in this country, reading in the " Illustrated News." 
 Alford. 
 
 (7) I have noticed the word " party " used for an indi 
 vidual occurring in Shakespeare. Alford. 
 
 (8) Though some of the European rulers may be females, 
 when spoken of altogether, they may be correctly classified 
 under the denomination " Kings." Alford. 
 
 (9) Had I but served my God, with half the zeal 
 I served my king, he would not in mine age 
 
 Have left me naked to mine enemies. Shakespeare. 
 
 (10) This art can only be obtained by the habitual study 
 of his sensations. D* Israeli. 
 
 (11) Errors are sometimes committed by the most dis- 
 tinguished writers, with respect to the use of ' * * shall " and 
 "will." Butler's Grammar. 
 
 (12) Thus I have fairly given you, sir, my own opinion, 
 as well as that of a great majority of both houses here, relat- 
 ing to this weighty affair ; upon which I am confident you 
 may securely reckon. Swift. 
 
 (13) These forms of conversation by degrees multiplied 
 and grew troublesome. Spectator. 
 
 14. In the following exercises, the sentences should 
 be reconstructed, and, if necessary, subdivided, so as 
 to avoid long Parenthetical Expressions. 
 
 (1) It seems to me, that, in order to maintain the system 
 of the world, at a certain point, far below that of ideal per 
 fection, (for we are made capable of conceiving what we art 
 incapable of attaining) but, however, sufficient, upon the 
 whole, to constitute a state easy and happy, or at the worst, 
 tolerable ; I say, it seems to me, that the Author of Nature 
 has thought fit to mingle, from time to time, among the so- 
 cieties of men, a few, and but a few, of those on whom he is 
 graciously pleased to bestow a larger portion of the ethere&i 
 
EXERCISES. 285 
 
 spirit, than is given, in the ordinary course of his govern- 
 ment, to the sons of men. Bolingbroke. 
 
 (2) He (Sir W. Grant) possessed the first great quality ol 
 dispatching business (the real, not the affected dispatch oi 
 Lord Bacon), the power of steadily fixing his attention upon 
 the matter before him. Brougham. 
 
 (3) The famous poisoned valley of Java (which, as Mr. 
 Loudon, a recent traveler in that region, informs us, is twenty 
 miles in length and is filled with skeletons of men and birds ; 
 and into which it is said that the neighboring tribes are in the 
 habit of driving criminals, as a convenient mode of executing 
 capital punishment) has proved to be the crater of an extinct 
 volcano. 
 
 (4) This would be the proper place for introducing (if I 
 iid not hesitate to introduce in any connection with merely 
 human instances) the example of him who said, etc. John 
 Foster. 
 
 15. In the following exercises such words as are 
 improperly omitted, should be supplied. 
 
 (1) Arbitrary power I look upon as a greater evil than 
 anarchy itself, as much as a savage is a happier state of life 
 than a galley-slave. 
 
 (2) He is inspired with a true sense of that function, when 
 chosen from a regard to the interests of piety or virtue. 
 Guardian. 
 
 (3) I beg of you never let the glory of our nation, who 
 made France tremble, and yet has the gentleness to be unable 
 to bear opposition from the meanest of his own countrymen, 
 be calumniated in so impudent a manner, as in the insinua- 
 tion that he affected a perpetual dictatorship. Stede. 
 
 (4) He meets with a secret refreshment in a description, 
 ind often feels a greater satisfaction in the prospect of fields 
 and meadows than another does in the possession. Addisou. 
 
 (5) And while he hesitated, the lady asked him was he 
 come to finish the bust. Charles Reade. 
 
286 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 (6) Ere he thoroughly, recovered the shock a wild cr} 
 arose. Charles Reade. 
 
 (7) Had Darnley proved the useful Catholic which the 
 Queen intended him to be, they would have sent him to his 
 account with as small compunction as Jael sent the Canaauite 
 captain, or they would have blessed the Jtrni that did it with 
 is much eloquence as Deborah. Fronde. 
 
 (8) Hence the reason is perspicuous why no French plays 
 whi. 11 translated have, or ever can, succeed on the English 
 stage. Dry den. 
 
 (9) The following facts may or have been adduced as 
 reasons on the other side. Latham. 
 
 16. So divide or reconstruct the sentences in the 
 following exercises as to secure Unity of Idea. Point 
 out in what respect Unity is violated. 
 
 (1) He [Prior] is supposed to have fallen by his father's 
 death into the hands of his uncle, a vintner near Charing 
 Cross, who sent him for some time to Dr. Busby at West- 
 minster, but not intending to give any education beyond 
 that of the school, took him when lie was well advanced in 
 literature to his own house, where the Earl of Dorset, cele- 
 orated for patronage of genius, found him by chance, as Bur- 
 net relates, reading Horace, and was so well pleased with his 
 proficiency, that he undertook the care and cost of his aca- 
 demical education. Johnson. 
 
 (2) In this uneasy state, both of his public and private life, 
 Cicero was oppressed by a new and cruel affliction, the death 
 of his beloved daughter Tullia ; which happened soon after 
 her divorce from Dolabella ; whose manners and humors were 
 entirely disagreeable to her. Middleton. 
 
 (3) It [the sun] breaks the icy fetters of the main, where 
 vast sea-monsters pierce through floating islands, with arms 
 which can withstand the crystal rock ; whilst others, who of 
 themselves seem great as islands, are by their bulk alone armed 
 .igainst all but man ; whose superiority over creatures of such 
 mi pe iido us size and force, should make him mindful of his 
 
EXERCISES. 287 
 
 privilege of reason, and force him humbly to adore the great 
 composer of these wondrous frames, and the author of hi* 
 ->wn superior wisdom. Shaftesbury. 
 
 (4) To this succeeded the licentiousness which entcied 
 with the restoration, and from infecting our religion and 
 morals, fell to corrupt our language ; which last was not like 
 to be much improved by those who at that time made up the 
 court of King Charles II. ; either such who had followed him 
 in his banishment, or who had been altogether conversant in 
 the dialect of those fanatic times ; or young men who had 
 been educated in the same company : so that the court which 
 used to be the standard of propriety and correctness of speech 
 was then, and I think hath ever since continued, the worst 
 school in England for that accomplishment, and so will re- 
 main till better care be taken in the education of our young 
 nobility, that they may set out into the world with some 
 foundation of literature, in order to qualify them for patterns 
 of politeness. Swift. 
 
 (5) The usual acceptation takes profit and pleasure for two 
 different things, and not only calls the followers or votaries 
 of them by the several names of busy and idle men, but dis- 
 tinguishes the faculties of the mind, that are conversant about 
 them ; calling the operation of the first, wisdom, and of the 
 other wit which is a Saxon word, used to express what the 
 Spaniards and Italians call ingenio, and the French, esprit, 
 both from the Latin ; though I think wit more particularly 
 signifies that of poetry, as may occur in remarks on the Runic 
 language. Sir W. Temple. 
 
 (6) After a short time he came to himself ; and the next 
 day they put him on board his ship, which conveyed him first 
 to Corinth, and thence to the island of Egina. Hook,. 
 
 (7) The Britons, daily harassed by cruel inroads from the 
 Picts, were forced to call in the Saxons for their defence, who 
 consequently reduced the greatest part of the island to their 
 power, drove the Britons into the most remote and mountain 
 ous parts, and the rest of the country, in customs, religion. 
 ad language, became wholly Saxon. Swift. 
 
288 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 17. In the following exercises, point out which sen 
 tences are Periodic, which Loose, and which Balanced. 
 If another form would be better suited to the idea, sc 
 modify the structure as to make the form and meaning 
 correspond. 
 
 (1) Gathering up lately a portion of what I had written 
 lor publication, I have given it as careful a revision as m} 
 leisure would allow, have indeed in many parts rewritten it, 
 seeking to profit by the results of the latest criticism, as fai 
 as I have been able to acquaint myself with them. Trend. 
 1 2) He was grave, trifling, zealous and untrue. 
 (3) Deep in the shady sadness of a vale 
 
 Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, 
 
 Far from, the fiery noon and eve's one star 
 
 Sat gray-haired Saturn, quiet as a stone. KeatB. 
 
 4) Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
 Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal touch 
 Brought death into the world, and all our woe, 
 With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 
 Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, 
 Sing heavenly 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 heaven and earth 
 Rose out of chaos : or, if Sion hill 
 Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flowed 
 Fast by the oracle of God, I thence 
 Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song, 
 That with no middle flight intends to soar 
 Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues 
 Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. Milton 
 
 18. In the following exercises on Figures, th$ 
 student should ask these questions. 
 
 (1) On what PRINCIPLE is this figure founded ? 
 (8) What is its specific 
 
EXERCISES. 289 
 
 (8) Is it CORRECT ? 
 
 (4) If correct, wherein lies its VALUE ? 
 
 (5) If incorrect, wherein lies its DEFECT ? 
 
 (6) What OTHER FIGURE would express the same idea ? 
 
 (1) To Adam, Paradise was a home ; to the good among 
 bia descendants, Home is a paradise. Hare. 
 
 (2) And pity, like a naked new-born babe, 
 Striding the blast, as heaven's Cherubim horsed 
 Upon the sightless couriers of the air, 
 
 Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, 
 
 That tears shall drown the wind. Shakespeare. 
 
 (3) Fancy sports an airy wing, like a meteor on the bosom 
 of a summer cloud. Burke. 
 
 (4) We feel the strength of mind through the beauty of 
 the style ; we discern the man in the author, the nation in the 
 man, and the universe at the feet of the nation. De Stall. 
 
 (5) An elm is 
 
 A forest waving on a single tree. Holmes. 
 
 (6) Greece cries to us by the convulsed lips of her poisoned 
 dying Demosthenes ; and Rome pleads with us in the mute 
 persuasion of her mangled Tully. Edward Everett. 
 
 (7) Even then, before this splendid orb was entirely set, 
 and while the western horizon was in a blaze with his de- 
 scending glory, on the opposite quarter of the heavens arose 
 another luminary, and for his hour became lord of the 
 ascendant. Burke. 
 
 (8) These institutions attract to themselves the mental 
 strength of the land, forming a focus from which radiates, 
 whether in Theology, Science, Literature or Art, the new 
 world of thought, which finds its way to the remotest regions, 
 often filtered and unacknowledged. Matthew Arnold. 
 
 (9) There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, 
 
 To deck the turf that wraps their clay ; 
 
 And Freedom shall a while repair 
 
 To dwell a weeping hermit there. Cotttm. 
 
 13 
 
290 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 (10) Belinda smiled, a-nd all the world was gay. Pope. 
 
 ^11) The poems of Byron are as the scenes of a suminci 
 evening, where all is tender, and grand, and beautiful ; but 
 the damps of disease descend with the dews of heaven, and 
 the pestilent vipors of night are breathed in with the fra 
 grance and the balm, and the delicate and the fair are the 
 surest victims of the exposure. FrisMe. 
 
 (12) This is the history of the world, and all that is in it. 
 H passes while we look at it. Like as when you watcli the 
 melting tints of the evening sky purple, crimson, gorgeous 
 gold, a few pulsations of quivering light, and it is all gone. 
 Robertson. 
 
 (13) Of the nineteen tyrants who started up under the 
 reign of Gallienus, there was not one who enjoyed a life of 
 peace or a natural death. Gibbon. 
 
 (14) A sail ! a sail ! a promised prize to hope, 
 Her nation's flag how speaks the telescope ? 
 No prize, alas ! but yet a welcome sail. Byron. 
 
 (15) Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.-* 
 Tennyson. 
 
 (16) Homer calls words winged ; and the epithet is 
 peculiarly appropriate to his, which do indeed seem to fly, so 
 rapid and light is their motion, and which have been flying 
 ever since over the whole peopled earth, and still hover and 
 brood over many an awakened soul. Latin marches, Italian 
 struts, French hops, English walks, German rumbles along. 
 The music of Klopstock's hexameter is not unlike the tune 
 with which a broad-wheeled wagon tries to solace itself when 
 crawling down a hill. But Greek flies, especially in Homer, 
 Hare. 
 
 (17) I am a Royalist, I blushed for the degradation of thj 
 crown. I am a Whig, I blushed for the dishonor of Parlia- 
 ment. I am a true Englishman, I felt to the quick for the 
 disgrace of England. I am a man, I felt for the melancholy 
 icverse of human affairs in the fall of the first power i D the 
 world. Bwrke. 
 
EXERCISES. 291 
 
 18) To one so gifted with the prodigality of heaven can 
 we appioach in any other attitude than of prostration. 
 Qilfillan. 
 (19) Nor durst begin 
 
 To speak, but wisely kept the fool within. Dryden. 
 (SO) Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore 
 Of that vast ocean it must sail so soon ; 
 And put good works on board ; and wait the wind 
 That shortly blows us unto worlds unknown. Young. 
 
 (21) I bridle in my struggling muse with pain, 
 
 That longs to launch into a nobler strain. Addison. 
 
 (22) I will bury myself in my books, and the Devil may pipe 
 
 to his own. Tennyson. 
 
 (23) The mind of Elizabeth was like one of those ancient 
 Druidical monuments called rocking-stones. The finger of 
 Cupid, boy as he is painted, could put her feelings in motion ; 
 but the power of Hercules could not have destroyed their 
 equilibrium. Scott. 
 
 (24) I was sailing in a vast ocean without other help than 
 the pole-star of the ancients, and the rules of the French stage 
 among the moderns. Dryden. 
 
 (25) He [Cromwell] set up Parliaments by the stroke of 
 his pen, and scattered them with the breath of his mouth. 
 Cowley. 
 
 (26) Men may come, and men may go, 
 
 But I [the brook] go on forever. Tennyson* 
 
 (27) So frowned the mighty combatants, that hell 
 Grew darker at their frown. Milton. 
 
 (28) Yon row of visionary pines, 
 
 By twilight glimpse discovered 1 Mark how they fle 
 From the fierce sea-blast, all their tresses wild 
 Streaming before them. Wordsworth. 
 
 (29) Talent convinces ; Genius but excites : 
 
 This tasks the reason ; that the soul delights. 
 Talent from sober judgment takes its birth, 
 And reconciles the pinion to the earth ; 
 
292 . THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 Genius unsettles with desires tte mind, 
 
 Contented not till earth be left behind. 
 
 Talent, the sunshine on a cultured soil, 
 
 Ripens the fruit by slow degrees for toil ; 
 
 Genius the golden Iris of the skies, 
 
 On cloud itself reflects its wondrous dyes, 
 
 And to the earth in tears and glory given, 
 
 Clasps in its airy arch the pomp of heaven. Bulwer. 
 
 (30) The moral and political system of Hobbes was u pal- 
 ace of ice : transparent, exactly proportioned, majestic, ad- 
 mired by the unwary as a delightful dwelling ; but gradually 
 undermined by the central warmth of human feeling, before 
 it was thawed into muddy water by the sunshine of true 
 philosophy. Mackintosh. 
 
 (31) And it came to pass at noon that Elijah mocked them 
 and said, u Cry aloud ; for he is a god : either he is talking, 
 or he is pursuing, or he is in a journey, or peradventure he 
 sleepeth, and must be awaked." Bible. 
 
 (32) The universal host upsent 
 
 A shout that tore Hell's concave, and beyond 
 Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. Milton. 
 
 (33) There is a period in the history of Europe when every 
 commotion on its surface was occasioned by one cause deeply 
 seated, like the internal fire that is supposed to have produced 
 the earthquake of Lisbon. This cause was the Reformation. 
 From 1520 to 1649 the Reformation was the great lever of 
 Europe. Loi*d John Russell. 
 
 (34) Wit laughs at things ; Humor laughs with them. 
 Wit lashes external appearances, or cunningly exaggerates 
 single foibles into character ; Humor glides into the heart of 
 its o'bjects, looks lovingly on the infirmities it detects, and 
 represents the whole man. Wit is abrupt, darting, scornful, 
 and tosses its analogies in your face ; Humor is slow and shy, 
 Insinuating its fun into your heart. Wit is negative, analyk 
 ical, destructive ; Humor is creative. WMpple. 
 
EXERCISES. 293 
 
 (85) As in the hollow breast of Apennine, 
 Beneath the shelter of encircling hills, 
 A myrtle rises, far from human eyes, 
 And breathes its balmy fragrance on the wild 
 So flourished, blooming and unseen by all, 
 The sweet Lavinia. Pope. 
 
 (36) He [Gower] is the Undertaker of the fair mediaeval 
 legend ; and his style has the hateful, the seemingly un- 
 natural length of a coffin. Lowell. 
 
 (37) He did not establish a throne surrounded by repub- 
 lican institutions, but a republic surrounded by the ghost ol 
 monarchical institutions. Alison. 
 
 (38) Language is the amber in which a thousand precious 
 thoughts have been safely imbedded and preserved. Trench. 
 
 (39) O for a beaker full of the warm South. Keats. 
 
 19. Point out the faults in the following sentences 
 in their effect upon the Feelings. 
 
 (1) That man made me miss my mark. Alison. 
 
 (2) St. Augustine lived holily and godlily. 
 
 (3) It is quite proper that a character should be pervaded 
 by a spirit of humility, but this feeling should never be al- 
 lowed to degenerate into servility. 
 
 (4) Antony has done his part. He holds the gorgeous 
 East in fee. He has revenged Crassus. He will make kings, 
 though he be none. He is amusing himself, and Rome must 
 bear with him. He has his griefs as well as Caesar. Let the 
 sword settle their disputes. But he is no longer the man to 
 leave Cleopatra behind. 
 
 (5) The general idea of good or bad fortune, therefore, 
 creates some concern for the person who has met with it ; but 
 the general idea of provocation excites no sympathy with the 
 anger of the man who has received it. Nature, it seems, 
 teaches us to be more averse to enter into this passion, and 
 till informed of its cause, to be disposed rather to take part 
 gainst it. 
 
294 THE SCIEKCE OF KHETORIC. 
 
 (0) And those that leave their valiant bones in Fiance, 
 Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills, 
 They shall be famed ; for there the sun shall greet them, 
 And draw their reeking honors up to heaven. Shakespcart 
 
 .7 Loud as a bull makes hill and valley ring, 
 
 So roared the lock when it released the spring. Pope. 
 
 fc Superior beings, when of late they saw 
 A mortal man unfold all nature's law, 
 Admired such wisdom in an earthly shape, 
 And showed a Newton as we show an ape. Pope. 
 
 II. 
 
 EXERCISES IN CONSTRUCTION. 
 
 WHILE great importance is attached to the preced- 
 ing exercises in criticism, it is believed to be of still 
 greater moment that every student should be able to 
 realize a high degree of excellence in his own composi- 
 tions. To this end the teacher should insist upon a 
 -igid drill in the following constructive exercises. 
 
 Although not strictly within the province of the 
 rhetorician, filling the mind with valuable ideas should 
 not be overlooked. Facts and'the mental combination 
 of facts by reflection upon them are the forces whicl 
 produce changes in the minds of men. The rhetori 
 cian's art is feeble and even pernicious unless it be joined 
 with a competent understanding of the subject-matter 
 treated. The sources of information are (1) observa- 
 tion, (2) reflection, (3) conversation, and (4) reading. 
 These are the sources of culture, and it is culture 
 which makes rhetorical power truly effective. Rhet- 
 oric is but a method. The artist must have material ot 
 his skill is of little value. 
 
EXERCISES. 295 
 
 1. Lot the learner mention subjects suitable for the 
 following classes of hearers or readers, and state what 
 chief qualities the treatment should possess. 
 
 (1) A Sunday school. (2) A political mass-meeting. (3) A 
 philosophical society. (4) An American jury. (5) A collide 
 literary society at its anniversary. (6) An educated Christian 
 church. (7) A workingmen's association. (8) An infuriated 
 mob. (9) Fashionable novel readers. (10) A "popular lec- 
 ture audience." 
 
 2. Let the student make an analysis of the follow- 
 ing themes in Description. 
 
 (1) The Inland Waters of the United States. 
 
 (2) An Ocean Steamer. 
 
 (3) The most important Public Building in the town. 
 
 (4) The Emotion of Patriotism. 
 
 (5) The Love of Justice. 
 
 (6) The Sentiment of Friendship. 
 
 (7) The Character of Julius Csesar. 
 '$) The Character of Xenophon. 
 
 .9) The Character of Abraham Lincoln. 
 (10) True Manhood. 
 
 3. Write an outline of the following thenues in 
 Narration. 
 
 (1) My School Life. 
 
 (2) The Punic Wars. 
 
 (3) The Life of Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 (4) The Battle of Waterloo. 
 
 (5) The Literature of the Age of Elizabeth. 
 
 (6) The Discovery of America. 
 
 (7) The History of Greece in the Time of Pericles. 
 
 (8) The Story of the Holy Grail. 
 
 (9) The Carboniferous Age. 
 
 (10) The Genesis of Civilization. 
 
296 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 4. Define the following Terms. 
 
 (1) Flattery. (2) Printing. (3) Geography. (4) Music, 
 ^5) Procrastination. (6) Education. (7) Philosophy. (8) 
 Science. (9) Generosity. (10) Perception. (11) Language* 
 (12) History. (13) A year. (14) Autobiography. (15) Man, 
 
 5. Divide the classes denoted by the following 
 Terms into species, according to some principle of 
 your own selection. 
 
 (1) Words. (2) Sentences. ^3) Languages. (4) Men. (5) 
 Americans. (6) The Sciences. (7) Merchants. (8) Mechanics. 
 (9) Celestial bodies. (10) Bodies of water. (11) Occupations. 
 (12) Sources of happiness. (13) Sources of value. (14) Gov- 
 ernments. (15) Religions. (16) Amusements. 
 
 6. Explicate the following propositions by Defini- 
 tion or Division. 
 
 (1) Prosperity depends on morality. 
 
 (2) Models improve practice. 
 
 (3) Labor is necessary to success. 
 
 (4) The press ought to be truthful. 
 
 (5) Luxury is destructive of liberty. 
 
 (6) Climate affects character. 
 
 (7) The fine arts are beneficial to civilizatioi 
 
 (8) Godliness is profitable unto all things. 
 
 (9) Anxiety shortens life. 
 
 (10) Love is the strongest bond of union. 
 
 7. Prove the following propositions by arguments 
 from Cause to Effect. 
 
 (1) Aaron Burr was a conspirator against his country. 
 
 (2) Bonaparte, were he liting, would change the geography 
 of Europe. 
 
 (3) The Government of the United States will endure 
 forever. 
 
 (4) The Christian religion will ultimately be universal, 
 
 (5) Shakespeare could have been a great orator. 
 
EXERCISES. 291 
 
 8. Prove the following propositions by argument* 
 from Sign, 
 
 (1) The globe has existed for ages longer than man. 
 
 (2) There was civilization in Egypt four thousand year* 
 tgo. 
 
 (3) Man is an infinitely progressive being. 
 
 (4) It is right to punish the murderer with death. 
 
 (5) Jesus Christ rose from the dead. 
 
 9. Prove the following propositions by argument* 
 from Eesemblance. 
 
 (1) Every language has its idioms. 
 
 (2) Many benefits result from Invention. 
 
 (3) The drama is an early form of literature. 
 
 (4) Human life is transitory. 
 
 (5) A precocious genius seldom becomes mature. 
 
 (6) Perseverance ends in success. 
 
 10. The following questions may be discussed ir 
 class, according to the principles given in the text, the 
 teacher presiding as critic, and pointing out errors in 
 the conduct of the discussion. 
 
 (1) Resolved, That the State should superintend all educa- 
 tion within its borders. 
 
 (2) Resolved, That the Electoral System of choosing the 
 President of the United States should be abolished. 
 
 (3 ) Resolved, That the physical sciences are more conducive 
 to the highest prosperity of the race than the mental sciences. 
 
 (4) Resolved, That the highest development of science and 
 literature in the same individual is impossible. 
 
 (5) Resolved, That the death penalty should be abolished. 
 
 1L While original composition is on the whole the 
 best exercise on tha laws of form, several easier processes 
 are helpful in acquiring skill in expressing ideas. 
 Some of these will be mentioned. 
 
 (1} A Paraphrase consists in giving the exact thought of a 
 13* 
 
298 THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. 
 
 writer in different language. When poetry is turned intc 
 prose it is called Metaphrase. If the principles of Style are 
 constantly kept in mind, it may prove a very profitable exer- 
 cise. The extracts given in the Exercises in Criticism maj 
 X3 used foi this purpose. 
 
 (2) Abridgment consists in giving the substance of a com- 
 position in fewer words. It is an aid in forming a terse, 
 compact style, and should be frequently practiced. The fol- 
 lowing points are necessary to a good abridgment : 
 
 (a) Give all the essentials, omitting minor details ; 
 (&) Give them accurately and concisely ; 
 (c) Give nothing not in the original work. 
 
 (3) Translation consists in expressing ideas in another 
 language with the same clearness and force as they possess in 
 the original. A good translation requires the observance of 
 the following rules : 
 
 (a) The translation must represent the sense of the original 
 without omission or addition. 
 
 (&) It must be idiomatic ; L e. to an ordinary reader con- 
 versant only with the language in which the translation is 
 made, it should appear to be a native production in word and 
 phrase. 
 
 (c) It must possess the general spirit of the original, as re- 
 gards simplicity, grace, magnificence, and other qualities. 
 
 Extemporaneous translation is recommended by Mr. 
 Marsh as a help to the acquisition of a wide vocabulary. 
 
 12. The end of all constructive effort is Original 
 Composition. The best way to acquire good habits of 
 expression is to write much and carefully. The Grst 
 efforts in any art must be self-conscious, but habit soon 
 controls us almost entirely, and we write well or ill 
 according as we have been trained. Principles will 
 at first retard our fluency and, possibly, even give an 
 air of artificiality to our expression ; but gracefulness 
 and power will finally vindicate Art, and prove her 
 
EXERCISES. 299 
 
 only a perfected Nature. A few brief suggestions may 
 assist the composer : 
 
 (1) Select a theme which interests you. 
 
 (2) Think about it until you have started questions which 
 fou cannnot answer. 
 
 (3) Seek these answers froin men and libraries. 
 
 (4) Form your own opinions distinctly. 
 
 (5) Prepare a full analysis before you write. 
 
 (6) Follow faithfully the laws of expression. 
 
 (7) Lay your composition aside, if possible, until its con 
 tents are out of your mind. 
 
 (8) Criticise it as if you were not its author, and be sure 
 (hat you understand just what you meant to say. 
 
ABBTRACTNESS of words, 177. 
 Accusations in debate, 137. 
 Adverbs, position of, 182. 
 ^Esthetics, its relation to rhetoric, 
 
 38. 
 
 Age, as a modifier of mind, 63. 
 Allegory, forms allied to, 223. 
 
 laws of, 224. 
 
 nature of, 222. 
 
 Ambiguity from position, 182. 
 Analogues, 169. 
 Analogy, argument from, 125. 
 Analysis, value of, 201, 93. 
 Antithesis, laws of, 240. 
 
 natural form of, 239. 
 
 nature of, 238. 
 Apostrophe, 233. 
 Arguments, a priori, 110. 
 
 arrangement of, 131. 
 
 divisions of, 107. 
 
 from resemblance, 120. 
 
 from sign, 113. 
 
 rhetorical use of, 107. 
 
 use of different classes, 130. 
 Arrangement of arguments, 131. 
 Art, restrictions of formal, 26. 
 Audience, relation of speaker to, 
 
 68. 
 
 Authority, as an argument, 118, 
 A athority in debate, 138. 
 
 BALANCED sentences, 198. 
 Barbarism, 157. 
 
 Beauty, relation of to rhetoric, 5. 
 Blair's treatment of rhetoric, 3. 
 
 CAUSE, argument from, 110. 
 
 proof of, 115. 
 
 Causal words, ambiguity of, lit. 
 Chances, calculation of, 114. 
 Circumlocution, 176. 
 Clearness, 6. 
 
 too great, 136. 
 Climax, 240. 
 
 in sound and sense, 260. 
 Collateral ideas, 194. 
 Comprehension, 96. 
 Concession in debate, 127. 
 Confirmation, 130. 
 Consonants, cumulation of, 247. 
 Contiguity, figures founded on, 
 
 225. 
 Contrast, essentials of a, 288. 
 
 figures founded on, 238. 
 
 the theory of, 237. 
 
 DEFINITION, kinds of, 98. 
 
 laws of, 99. 
 
 nature of, 97. 
 "Description, kinds of, 76. 
 
 laws of, 75. 
 
 nature of, 75. 
 
 Development of an idea, 198, 199, 
 Diction, 155. 
 Discourse, essential elements o 
 
 19. 
 
302 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Discussion, conduct of a, 126; 
 Disposition, relation of to rhet 
 
 oric, 4. 
 Division, kinds of, IOC. 
 
 laws of, 101. 
 
 nature of, 97. 
 Drawing, 24. 
 
 ELLIPSIS, 189 
 
 Elocution, relation of to rhetoric, 
 
 5,38. 
 Emotions, co-existent, 230. 
 
 relation of to knowledge, 235. 
 
 [see Feelings]. 
 Emphasis, 177. 
 Epigram, 241. 
 Example, argument from, 121. 
 
 illustrative, 122. 
 
 invented, 122. 
 Exclamation, 231. 
 Experience, general and special, 
 
 67. 
 
 inferred, 67. 
 
 nature of, 66. 
 Explicit reference, 200. 
 Exposition, forms of, 95. 
 
 nature, o^ $5. 
 
 of question, 127. 
 Expression, modes of, 24. 
 Extension, 96. 
 
 FABLE, distinguished from alle- 
 gory, 224. 
 
 Familiarity of words, 155. 
 Feelings, classification of, 52. 
 
 economy of, 244. 
 
 involuntary, 54. 
 
 Hamilton's theory of, 244. 
 
 modification of, 59. 
 
 production of, 54. 
 Figures, classes of, 203. 
 
 definition of, 203. 
 
 founded on resemblance, 205. 
 
 Figures, harmony ot, 261. 
 
 number of, 255, 261 . 
 
 source of, 262. 
 
 value of, 204. 
 
 variety of, 255, 261. 
 Foot-note, 189. 
 
 GENERAL words, 164. 
 
 Grammar, its relation to rhetoric 
 
 38. 
 Grammatical relations of word*., 
 
 190. 
 
 HARMONY, 256. 
 Homonyms, 167. 
 Hyperbole, 232. 
 
 IDEAS, kinds of, 73. 
 
 modes of expressing, 24. 
 Imagination, rhetorical use of, 49 
 Imitation of sounds, 256 
 Inclusion of words, 163. 
 Induction, methods, 123. 
 
 nature of, 123. 
 
 Interpretation, process of, 144. 
 Interrogation, 242. 
 Introduction, design of, 128. 
 
 kinds of, 129. 
 Invention, relation of to rhetono. 
 
 6. 
 Irony, 242. 
 
 LANGUAGE, ambiguity of, 118. 
 an impediment in expression, 
 32. 
 
 as a mode of expression, 25. 
 its origin and progress, 5. 
 its relation to thought, 19. 
 its symbolic character. 80. 
 of mental states, 80. 
 restrictions of, 29. 
 uncertainty of as a median^ 
 81. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 303 
 
 Length of words, 160. 
 
 Lessing's limitation of language, 
 
 29. 
 
 Logic, its relation to rhetoric, 38. 
 Loose sentences, 197. 
 
 MEMOBY, rhetorical use of, 50. 
 Metaphor, based on analogy, 214. 
 
 laws of, 215. 
 
 nature of, 213. 
 
 superiority of to simile, 214. 
 
 value of, 217. 
 Meter, adaptation of to poetry, 252 
 
 not a violation of variety, 253. 
 
 value of, 251. 
 Metonymv, forms of, 228. 
 
 law of, 230. 
 
 Modifying effect of words, 181. 
 Myth distinguished from allegory, 
 
 224. 
 Myths, origin of, 218. 
 
 NABBATION, laws of, 86. 
 
 nature of, 86. 
 New words, formation of, 159. 
 
 use of, 157. 
 
 OBJECTIONS, place for answering, 
 
 138. 
 
 treatment of, 135. 
 Obscurity from position, 185. 
 
 intentional, 147. 
 
 PAINTING, as a mode of expression, 
 
 24. 
 Parable distinguished from fable, 
 
 224. 
 
 Parenthesis, 187. 
 Parenthetical expressions, 186. 
 Particles, splitting of, 185. 
 Partition, 100. 
 Party spirit, 69. 
 Periodic sentences, 197. 
 
 Personification, nature of, 218. 
 in oratory, 220. 
 forms of, 221. 
 natural to man, '2T.. 
 
 Perspicuity, excessive, 148. 
 
 Poetry, definitions of, 84. 
 
 Position of words, 177. 
 
 Precision, 6. 
 
 Probability, how established, 112 
 
 Progressive development, 199. 
 
 Pronouns, position of, 183. 
 
 Propriety, 6. 
 
 Prose, definition of, 36. 
 
 Proximity of words, 181. 
 
 Psychology, its relation to rhet- 
 oric, 38. 
 
 Purity, 6. 
 
 QUESTION, preparation of, 126. 
 
 REDUNDANCY, 175. 
 
 Refutation, cautions concerning 
 
 136. 
 
 modes of, 133. 
 Resemblance, argument from, 120 
 
 essential, 120. 
 Rhetoric, definition of, 37. 
 
 departments of, 39. 
 
 province of, 37. 
 
 synopsis of, 40. 
 Rhyme, absence of in classics, 248 
 
 adaptation of to poetry, 250. 
 Rhyming words in English, 249 
 
 Italian, 249. 
 
 Spanish, 249. 
 
 SAXON, value of, illustrated, 16*. 
 Sculpture, 25. 
 Sentences, balanced, 198. 
 
 combination of, 198. 
 
 conditions of their structure, 
 
 151. 
 
 length of, 191, 254. 
 
304 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Sentences, loose, 197. 
 
 structure of, 254. 
 
 periodic, 197. 
 Sentiments, scheme of, 53 
 Sign, argument from, 113. 
 bimile, kinds of, 20. 
 
 laws of, 209. 
 
 Speaker, relation of to audience, 68 
 Specific words, 164. 
 Squinting construction, 182, 184. 
 Style, excellence of relative, 33. 
 
 general law of, 147. 
 
 of legal acts, 152. 
 
 national types of, 152. 
 Suggeativeness, 193. 
 Summary, value of in history, 94. 
 Synecdoche, 227. 
 
 TAflTE, relation of to rhetoric, 5. 
 Tautology, 174. 
 Tautophony, 248. 
 Testimony, 115. 
 Theme, necessity of, 201. 
 Theremin's treatment of rhetoric,3. 
 Thought, its relation to language, 
 
 19. 
 
 laws of, 45. 
 
 UKITY of idea, 195. 
 
 of structure, 196 
 Use, law of, 159. 
 
 VABIBTT, applications oi, 246. 
 
 in style, 246. 
 
 necessity of, 246. 
 Versification, apart of grammar, 81 
 Vision, 234. 
 Vivacity, 6. 
 Vowels, cumulation of, 247. 
 
 WHATELY'S treatmentof rhetoric,3. 
 Witnesses, adverse, 117. 
 
 character of, 116. 
 
 concurrent, 116. 
 
 number of, 116. 
 Words, abstract, 177. 
 
 associations of, 171. 
 
 effect of on thoughts, 171. 
 
 effect of on sensibilities, 244, 
 
 emphatic, 177. 
 
 familiarity of, 155. 
 
 formation of new, 159. 
 
 grammatical relations of, 11K 
 
 implication of, 171. 
 
 inclusion of, 163. 
 
 length of, 160. 
 
 modifying effect of, 181. 
 
 number of, 173. 
 
 position of, 177. 
 
 Saxon, 162. 
 
 specific and general, 164. 
 
 use of new, 157. 
 
 YOUTH as a modifier of mind, 61 
 
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