s E < Ce > DISSERTATION uro* TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK OF Aristotle, BY DANIEL MICHAEL CRIMMIN, ESQ. L4TE OF TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN; AND STUDENT OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLt LONDON.- PRINTED FOR J. J. STOCKDALK, 41, PALL MALL. 1811. S. GOSNEI.L, Printer, Littlq &ueen Street, Loudeiv. Annex TO THE tp of Cambridge, WITH ALL THE RESPECT WHICH THE LEARNING OP THAT ILLUSTRIOUS BODY MUST INSPIRE, THE FOLLOWING SHEETS ARE MOST HUMBLY DEDICATED BY THE TRANSLATOR. TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. IN ushering to the world this treatise of the learned Stagyritc, I shall confess the difficulties which I have encountered, and the anxiety which I still feel as to its reception. That it is the greatest of all that great master's productions, is an assertion which I do not singly hazard. The learned and laborious Franciscus Philelphns terms it " Rhetor tea illustrmimi philosophorum Aristotelis utilissinid'" and this epithet has been strongly borne out by the following testimony of the cele- brated Boileau Despreaux, in his preface to a trans- lation of Longinus upon the Sublime : " C'est unlouvrage d'une extreme utilite ; & pour moi, j'avoue franchement que sa lecture m'a plus profile que tout ce qui j'ai jamais lu en ma vie." So important has this work appeared in the eyes of the learned, during the fifteenth century, that it employed, with incessant emulation, the pens of several most distinguished scholars, to produce a, VI PREFACE. perfect version of it. The style of the original presented an intrinsic obstacle to the accomplish- ment of that object in several instances. Many of the translators, by too literal an attention to the context, increased the obscurity, in which Aristotle* quaint and methodical expression involves the meaning of several passages ; and it remained for those alone who built their labours upon the inge- nious Commentary of Petrus Victorius, to trans- mit a close and correct version of this famous trea- tise to posterity. In this class of the Latin trans- lation, Ricccboni appeared to me most faithfully precise ; and consequently, whenever I entertained any hesitation upon the original, I combined his reference with that of M. Cassandre, an accom- plished scholar of the seventeenth century, who gave to the world a French translation of this work, which stands eminently high in the admi- ration of UAblancourt. His arrangement is so familiar and connected, that I have adopted it, in preference to that of Muretus or Riccoboni. The Greek edition, which formed the basis of the pre- sent version (which I believe is the only one in the English language), was that of Duval, Paris, 1619; the readings of which are allowed to be PREFACE. Vll better than those of any other extant. Many of the rhetoricians, posterior to the time in which Aristotle wrote, have adopted, in their essays, the fundamental rules of the art, which he has laid down. Quintiliaris triple division of the orator's duty perfectly corresponds with that of our author " Tria sunt autem quae praestare debet orator ut doceat, moneat, delectet." Quintil. Rhel. b. iii. p. 47. And Cicero, in his " Rhe- torica ad C. Herennium," derives his construction of artificial proofs, very evidently from the Aris- totelian system; " Omnis igitur probatio arti- ficialis constat aut signis, aut argu mentis, aut exemplis." The same writer, in his two books, " De Inventione Rhetorica," has bottomed him- self upon the Places of our author's treatise. There is, however, this difference between the Rhetoric of Aristotle and that of every other writer upon the subject, down to Blair ; that the former universally combines with the art the great elementary principles of human action, thus making it an Ethico-Rhetorical treatise, while the others pay too much attention to the figura- tive ornaments of diction alone. A4 Vlil PREFACE, I feel not the least hesitation in saying, that, a3 an University Class-book, the present work would be most efficacious in imprinting upon the stu- dent's understanding those abstract principles of Locke and other logical writers, which in several cases leave only a superficial trace behind them. The present treatise, in like manner, has the incal- culable advantage of being specifically directed to the three cardinal points of professional avocation. Not a principle of human thought, is there, which cannot be comprised under what Aristotle terms the Places of the three Rhetorical Divisions ; and it is worthy of remark, that, at the special instance of several great men in the Macedonian court, this copious philosopher embodied the general substance of this extended work, in a short tract, which he addressed to his illustrious pupil, Alexander ('PjjTopjTCjJ Trpof AAfJ^poi/). Little more need be said in order to impress the reputation in which the Aristotelian Rhetoric has been held. It must, however, be observed, that our author generally supposes some elementary reading in those to whom he addresses himself, as he makes constant reference to the Art of Logic in his exemplifications, For this reason it PREFACE. 1JC is, that I esteem the work as one most peculiarly calculated to produce confirmed impressions of those collegiate studies, which are considered abstract, merely for the want of a standard where- by to conciliate them to the understanding. If I succeed in compassing that object, it will be because I have myself experienced the tedium of accommodating the youthful mind, without the intervention of truisms, to the occult doctrines of speculative writers. LONDON, June *9th, 1811. CONTENTS. BOOR I. CHAP. I. General Preliminary Page 17 Rhetoric demonstrated to be an Art 18 Principal Address of the Rhetorician consists in Proof ib. CHAP. IT. Definition of Rhetoric 25 Of Proof 26 Of Example and Enthymem, as related to Syllo- gism and Induction 29 Manner of arguing in Rhetoric 32 Nature of the Propositions of which the Enthy- mem is composed 33 Of Signs, their Difference 35 Of Example 37 Difference of Enthymems 3 CHAP. III. Kinds of Rhetoric 40 Necessity of Common-place, and Place-proper 44 CHAP. IV. Of deliberative Rhetoric 46 On Matters which fall under Deliberation ib. CHAP. V. Of the Sovereign Good, or Summum Bonum and its Parts 52 Component Parts of Happiness 54 CHAP. VI. Object of deliberative Rhetoric, and of Place, in proving the Goodness or Utility of any Thing 62 Value of doubtful and controverted Good 66 XU CONTENTS. CHAP. VII. Positions illustrative of the Distinc- tions between a great and lesser Good Page 72 CHAP. VIII. Of the supreme Authority, and of States, considered in each particular Kind 89 CHAP. IX. Demonstrative Rhetoric 92 Of Virtue, generally, and particularly ib. Of particular Virtues 94 Common-place Positions of Praise 95 Modes of Address whereby Praise or Censure may be unworthily bestowed loo Different Species of Eulogy 104 Affinity of demonstrative to deliberative Rhetoric 106 Of Amplification 107 Address in praising a Person who has done no- thing praiseworthy 108 Of Things particular to each of the three rheto- rical Divisions 109 CHAP. X. Judiciary Rhetoric in Of Injuries or Wrongs ib. Human Actions and their Causes 113 CHAP. XI. Of Things conducive to Pleasure 121 CHAP. XU. Of those who commonly injure others 134 Of those who promise themselves Impunity ib, Those who expect to avoid Discovery 135 Those who have no Apprehensions of Punishment 137 The Persons commonly made Objects for the Commission of Wrongs 141 Of the different Species of Injustice - 146 CHAP. XIII. Of just and unjust Actions 147 Of Equity 153 CHP. XIV. How to distinguish the different De- grees of Injustice 157 CIIAI'. XV. Proofs independent of the Orator's Art ~*. |6j CONTENTS. XllI OF ihe Laws Page 162 Of Evidence 165 Of Contracts 170 Of Torture 173 Of Oaths 174 BOOK II. CHAP. I. Acquaintance with human Manners and Passions ~~* J >9 OF THE PASSIONS. CHAP. II. Anger 183 Contempt 184 Persons subject to the Passion of Anger 187 Those who are the Objects of Anger 188 CHAP. III. On Sweetness of Disposition 194 CHAP. IV. Love and Hatred 200 Persons whom we love - 201 Of different Sorts of Friendship 207 Difference between Hatred and Anger ib. CHAP. V. Fear Confidence tio Persons subject to Fear 215 Those not subject to Fear 216 Of Confidence 217 The Self-confident 218 CHAP. VI. Shame Impudence 221 Persons before whom we are apt to manifest Shame 225 Those liable to feel Shame 229 CHAP. VIL Of Benefits 231 CHAP. VIII. Compassion 235 Things which excite Compassion 237 Persons whom we compassionate 239 CONTENTS. CHAP. IX. Indignation Page 242 Objects which excite Indignation 244 Persons against whom we entertain Indignation 245 Those subject to feel Indignation 247 CHAP. X. Of Envy 249 Persons who are envious ib. Things which attract Envy 250 Persons who are Objects of Envy 251 CHAP. XI. Emulation - 253 Who are emulous 254 Things which create Emulation 255 Who are Objects of Emulation ib. OF HUMAN MANNERS. CHAP. XII. Natural Disposition and Humour of the Young 257 CHAP. XIII. Disposition of the Old 261 CHAP. XIV. Manners of a grown Man 265 CHAP. XV. Disposition of Nobles 267 CHAP. XVI. Disposition of the Rich 269 CHAP. XVII. Disposition of the Great 271 Disposition of Persons in high Prosperity 272 Other Places and Proofs common to the three Kinds of Rhetoric. CHAP. XVIII. Summary of the Necessity of those Places hitherto established 273 Place of Possibility 275 Place of More and Less 276 CHAP. XIX. Places whereby to know whether a Thing is possible or impossible 277 How to know whether a Thing has or has not been done 280 CONTENTS. XV To know when a Thing will happen Page Common Place of More or Less 283 CHAP. XX. Of Example 284 Of Parable 285 Of Fable 286 Use of Fable and Example 288 CHAP. XXI. Of Sentences 290 Their Use 294. Their Advantage 298 CHAP. XXII.Of Enthymems 300 Their Elements _____ CHAP. XXIII. Places for Enthymems of Truth and Proof - 307 CHAP. XXIV. Places for false Enthymems, and such as do not apparently prove 335 CHAP. XXV. Solutions 346 CHAP. XXVI. Amplification 353 BOOK III. CHAP. I. Summary Recapitulation Action 356 Elocution - 359 OF DICTION. CHAP. II. On fine Elocution 360 Metaphors 363 Epithets 370 CHAP. III. Frigid Elocution 371 &V1 CONTENTS. CHAP. IV. Images * -*- Page 577 CHAP. V. Pare and correct Elocution 381 CHAP. VI. Turgid Style, or Bombast 384 CHAP. VII. Diction appropriate to the Subject 389 CHAP. VIII. Of Number 394 CHAP. IX. Elocution 398 Periods 400 CHAP. X. Of saying Things in a sprightly and pleasing Manner - 406 CHAP. XL: Energy and Picture in speaking 415 CHAP. XII. The two Kinds of Elocution 427 CHAP. XIII. The Parts of a Discourse 433 CHAP. XIV. Exordium 436 CHAP. XV. Means of Defence against Accusa- tion 445 CHAP. XVI. Narration, its Use in each Kind of Rhetoric 451 CHAP. XVII. -Proof - 459 CHAP. XVIII. Interrogation 468 Ridicule 472 CHAP. XIX. Peroration 473 A DISSERTATION UPON RHETORIC. BOOK I. CHAP. I General PRELIMINARY. THE art of rhetoric and dialectics* are so far related, as they both treat of subjects, which, being common, fall, as it were, under the know- ledge of mankind in general, and are not con- tained within the limits of any particular science. Hence, no man is presumed ignorant of either, to the extent of examining or upholding, de- fending or refuting, any particular reason within his scope. * By dialectics, Aristotle means that part of logic alone which treats of probability ; and is, in fact, what is otherwise called topics : not but that he applies the word often to convey Itgic in gtntrtl. l8 X DISSERTATION RHETORIC is thus demonstrated to be an ART. For, if we allow the two sources of its success- ful application to be casualty and habit, we may equally concede the competency of any man to establish a rule whereby he may set chance at defiance, and generally succeed. Now, it is the province of art alone to assign such rules ; and, therefore, the object to be attained by them must be itself an art. In PROOF consists the principal Address of the Rhetorician. And here I cannot be refuted upon the grounds of omission in those authors, who have treated the- subject, more with reference to the several pas- sions of the human heart, than those modes of argument (particularly enthymem *) so essential to the formation of proof. Passion, in point of fact, lies more at home with the person who ad- judges, than the orator who enforces an appeal. If the former acted up to his duty in all matters touching justice ; and were every government to be modelled upon the policy of the best-regulated republics, the advocates of an opinion contrary to mine, would find little room to dilate when they would speak in public. This licentious habit of expatiating is theoreti- cally reprobated, but I know of few places where the orator is expressly forbidden to travel out of * This argumentative term is explained in progress. UPON RHETORIC. 10 his subject ; and even in Athens the prohibition extends but to the judgments of the Areopagus. The reasonable tendency of such a repression will appear, from the liability of a judge to be perverted, through the inculcation of passion, in any way affecting the object of his adjudication. Add to this, that the principal git of the pleidef lies in plain demonstration, either respecting the existence or agency of his subject, negatively or affirmatively. But it is the business of \\izjudge alone (wherever the legislature has not been ex- plicit) to interpret the consequence or import in matter of justice. His instructions are not to flow from the advocate. Indeed, I could wish that every law of wise establishment were so precise as to demarcate the minutest circumstance, in order to guard against excesses in this judicial privilege of con- struction. First, for personal reasons ; because it is not an easy matter, to provide men of meet ability to correspond with such a trust ; the capacity of legislative judgment being found, perhaps, generally in the proportion of two persons possessed, to a hundred incapable of it. Secondly, in respect to time : for, an established law rests not dependent upon the instantaneous administration of any particular judgment, but upon the long and experi- enced observation of ages. And from this con- sideration arises the impracticability of corn- it a, 2O A DISSERTATION plianee, in deliberative assemblies, with partial and public interests at one and the same time. The last and most important reason is derived from the consideration of precedent or similitude of circumstances : because the legislator enacts not upon matters particular, nor with a view to per- sons presently interested ; but for general purposes extending even to futurity. On the other hand, the judge, or the debater, takes cognizance but of particular facts, wherein they frequently find a concern with self-interest ; often looking but through the medium of affection or hatred to- wards the immediate persons ; and, consequently, passion draws a veil between them and the truth. In fine, I would leave to the judge this sole point of examination, namely into the occurrence or probability of any matter before him, these being cases out of the power of the legislature to fore- see. From what has been now said, it is clear, that real rhetoric has no concern in those modes of doctrine, which are frittered upon the manu- facture of exordiums, narrations, and other di- visions of a discourse. Such things tend to warp the mind of a judge, not showing where lies the artifice of a proof, which arises out of the culti- vation of reason, assisted by enthymems. Rhetoric may be divided into two practical branches one deliberative ; the other advocating. The former is more important, as it is more gene- rally interesting in politics ; the other being UPON RHETORIC. 21 simply confined to the investigation of clauses in plain and overt contracts. No mention, however, of the former division has been made by rhetorical writers; while on the latter they have plentifully expended their rules and precepts. They well knew that a council gives little admission to trick or malice (which is not the case with a particular matter at bar), for a deliberative interest is common to each indi- vidual who debates it, every hearer judging for himself. Consequently simple demonstration of the truth is alone necessary. It is otherwise with the pleader ', who must go further, and attempt to turn his auditors towards his side ; while they, not being affected in their own interests, and falling before self- complacency, are easily induced to fa- vour, and to neglect their duties as judges. In this respect is proved the utility of providing against oratorical expatiation. A deliberative body will instinctively guard against it. The entire artifice of rhetoric consisting in proof, which is a species of demonstration most powerfully attained through that syllogistic argu- ment called enthymem, comprehensively treated of in logic ; it follows, that a good logician will easily make himself master of the object, pos- sessing the means, as he does, through the other allied art. Truth * is the object of the direct * Under this term, the author comprehends every thing happens of necessity, and in an uniform manner* By pro- 3 2ft A DISSERT AflONT syllogism, and probability that of the Now the same faculty will lead a man to both, as people are apt to discover the truth (independ- ent of absolute knowledge) in many matters, be- side being naturally borne towards the knowledge of a thing, and an acquaintance with the cer- tainty of it ; and, in like manner, in drawing a simple conjecture, or discovering the probability of dubious matters, a man stands in need of no other address, or light, than those which lead him to an investigation and ultimate discovery of truth, in affairs of infallibility. That rhetoric is of great utility, I believe no one will doubt, since its end is the rendering of justice, and the inculcation of truth. This sublime art is not doctrinal upon any thing contrary to cither. Whenever a wrong judgment has been delivered, it results from the triumph of falsehood and injustice over trutha victory which merits punishment, not praise. Moreover, this art is of such importance, that, though you may be lability^ he simply understands what happens but ordinarily. The two words are of extensive consideration in logic, em* bracing and sharing between them every thing which falls under the knowledge of that art. There is a reason, however, why the same faculty, which applies to the consideration of trutli^ should also apply to that of probability, namely that there is no great difference between both ; the only distinction is beween universal and frequent occurrence ; in other words, between mort ftndjo, 4 RHETORIC. 2$ extremely learned, yet, in speaking to a certain class of persons, for the purpose of persuasion, it would be difficult, without rhetoric, to compass your design, by reason of the particular fashion and phrase which are necessary to the explication of science, but which it would be useless to direct to the apprehensions of the ignorant. In order to be understood by, and to persuade such a description of people, recourse must be had to notions generally received, or terms of common-place, as has already been noticed in my book of TOPICS, speaking of the " manner be- fitting an address to the people." A third ad- vantage derivable from rhetoric is, ils capability of persuading two contrary parties, just as in logic it is requisite to know how to argue upon both sides of a question. But it is not really necessary that the art should accomplish both ends, for we ought never to persuade to what is bad ; yet the matter is of consequence, so far as that a man should not be ignorant of the manner in which such dangerous persuasion may be resorted to, and that he may, at the same time, have it in his power to answer those who make use of it to the end of favouring injustice. Now, of all the arts, there are none, save rhetoric and logic, which profess the defence of two contrary sides in argu- ment. It is not however to be understood, that the subject matter in these disputations should be equally probable on either side, since, definj- B 4 S&4 A DISSERTATION 1 lively speaking, that which is true and deserving in itself, is most easy of proof, and most capable of persuading. In fact, it would be ridiculous to imagine, that it were matter of reproach not to be enabled to derive assistance to one's self, from the exertions of the body ; and that there would be none in the deprivation of help from those of speech the use of the latter being much more particular to man from nature than that of the body. To say that rhetoric n'ay be employed to noxious purposes if the possessor wish it, is making use of an objection which equally applies to all matters, however good and useful, with the exception of virtue. For example, the good or bad u<-e of strength, health, riches, armour, &c. will constitute the good or evi) which may result from their ex rcisc. We may now summarily conclude the use of this noble art, and that it has, equally with logic, no particular or determinate subject. In the next place, we may infer that the work of rhetoric is not directed towards absolute persuasion, but in search of whatever may lead to if. Herein it is in accordance with the several other arts. For instance, medicine holds not out the promise of infallible cure, but, as far as possible, a contri- bution towards the repair of health, the physician not relaxing in his endeavours to benefit the pa- tient, upon the ground of health not returning so Soon as he expected. Rhetoric, likewise, takes UPON RHETORIC. 2 into equal consideration effectual and apparent persuasion, as logic treats of the true and ap- parent syllogism. 1 say, that the logician works upon apparent syllogism, in order that it may not be considered as the province of the sophist alone, whose characteristic is not the knowledge of, or address in using arguments of 'similitude ; but the object with which he sets out, is that of arguing with the intent of deceiving. Truly speaking, as to this point, logic and rhetoric differ, inasmuch as, in the latter art, the man who employs false arguments is considered an orator equally with him who makes use but of true ones. Now it is not so with logic, the true disciple of which attaches himself but to the art conjoined with truths for the subtlety and evasion of the sophist are not comprehended in that cha- racter. But, to the subject from which we have diverged, and first to the definition of this art ; progressively examining all its other parts as we go along. CHAP. II, * DEFINITION OF RHETORIC. * e Rhetoric is an art, or faculty, which, upon every subject, considers the capability of suasion/' 26 A DISSERTATION In this it is peculiar ; for, no other art or fa* culty treats of any subject other than that within the immediate province of each, and consequently aims at conviction on those points alone. We shall exemplify medicine, which reasons and per- suades only upon matters concerning the oppo- sites, health and disease ; geometry, upon the remarkable changes and differences to be met with in space ; arithmetic, regarding numbers ; and so on distinctively with the whole remaining series of arts and sciences. Rhetoric alone is ge- neral in its subject, and assumes a right to at- tempt conviction in any. Of PROOF. Rhetoric employs two kinds one, artificial ; the other, independent of art. By the latter I understand those which do not flow out of our industry, but which we find ready made to our convenience, as testimony, the torture, contracts, and such-like. Those I call artificial which we derive from self-ingenuity, or have produced by the rules of the art. Artificial proof may be again divided into three species : The first, founded upon the manner, received morality, and virtuous character of the speaker. The second, arising out of the disposition of the auditory, and through the preparation of their minds, which the orator has made use of. The third springs out of the discourse itself, .UPON RHETORIC. !/ namely whether a true or apparent demon- stration has been given to the subject. An ORATOR will persuade by the help of his mien and manner, provided he speaks in such wise as to render himself worthy of confidence. For virtue is ever possessed of that open credit, that we make more liberal allowance, and take less time to do it, in favour of trie virtuous than the immoral ; and this more particularly in mat- ters of doubt, wherein our minds perceive no cer- tain path of reason, on either side, for our direc- tion. In such a case, we entirely surrender, under con- fidence, to th<* person who addresses us. But it must be remarked, that this credit ought not simply to proceed from the prepossession of the auditory, but also from the address of the discourse. Nor should we regard some of those rhetorical writers, who, in point of that morality and probity, which should be effulgent in the language of the orator, maintain that it is absolutely of no avail in win- ning upon the mind : so far is this opinion from being correct, that there is no one avenue to per- suasion more direct than what has been just re- commended. Conviction may be obtained from an auditory, with reference to them alone, because they may be led at the discretion of those passions which the discourse has excited. For, our judgments are varied by the contrary moods of hilarity or 28 A DISSBRTATIOK depression, partiality or hatred. On this method of persuading, so much dwelt upon by rhetori- cians, we shall more fully speak when we come to treat of the passions. Finally, persuasion is obtained through the effect of the discourse either tending to prove that the subject is clearly true, or leaving it only so in appearance. Artificial proof depending, then, upon these three points, he who would be master of them must apply to the study of three things, as follow : first, a knowledge in the making of syllogisms; secondly, a deep acquaintance with the manners and qualities of men ; and, thirdly, the science of conducting the passions. For instance : in the latter, he should know the particular nature of each passion ; wherein it differs from others ; its origin, and the modes most likely to excite it. Thus it appears, not only that rhetoric is a germ and shoot of logic, but also of that part of ethics which may, with reason, be denominated political. Hence it is, that rhetoric, assuming a borrowed garment, often passes for politics ; those who profess it, very frequently being led into the vanity of such assumption through pride, igno- rance, or other human considerations. Having thus connected rhetoric with the mother art of logic, let us now sptak of their power and rela- tion individually. UPON RHETORIC, 29 Of EXAMPLE and ENTHYMEM, as related to SYLLOGISM and INDUCTION. The two latter are the modes (whether they be either true or apparent) of demonstrating proofs in logic ; while in rhetoric, the same use is made of example as was made of induction in the other art, and of enthymem correspondent with that of syllogism. I have shown in my Analytics, that no logical demonstration can be made with- out the help of syllogism or induction. In rheto- rical proof, the same necessity occurs of employ- ing example and enthymem. Thus we see a strong reciprocity between each opposed to each, in their respective arts. The difference between example and induction has been already shown in my Topics. When in logic a man wishes to prove a thing to be of a certain nature, and that, in order so to prove, he brings in a number of other matters in every re- spect similar to the one debated, his mode of proof is named induction. The rhetorician pro- ceeds to the same end by example. So likewise in logic, when the disputant establishes certain fixed propositions, and by one necessary consequence comes to draw another proposition totally differ- ent from the preceding, merely because the pre- ceding were established ones (it matters not whe- ther true or probable) ; such a series is called syllogism. The same deduction is named enthy- 30 A DISSERTATION mem, in rhetoric. Each of these two modes is greatly advantageous to him who makes good use of them, as each contains within itself, in a man- ner, a separate species of rhetoric. What has been observed in my book of Methods^ regarding the manner of proof peculiar to logic, strongly applies to t hetoric, in this respect, that the latter, as well as the former, has two distinct pre- ferences in its modes of proof. For instance, some orators prefer the use of example in their discourses, while others stickle for the rfrjcacy of enthymem. The former class of speakers achieve persuasion in no inferior degree to the latter, ex- cept, indeed, the advantage which enthymem possesses, of making a more lasting impression on the mind, and calling it more into exercise. For this we shall assign causes in a proper place. Let us now show, by conclusive reasoning, the matters to which enthymem will apply. Every thing within the proper sphere of per- suasion is personally relative, i. e. may be em- ployed to persuade any person. This again di- vides itself into two species of capacity, one whereof is self persuasive, and credible at first view ; the other merely receiving its belief from being seemingly founded upon proofs of equal quality with the first. Now, since there is no art which is merely considerative of mdmidualsy or takes them as objects (medicine, for instance, proposes not individually what would be best for UPON RHETORIC. 31 the health of CalTias or Socrates, but searches ge- perally into cases of similar afflictions, consider- ing the difference of temperament ; it being fea- sible, that the infinite number of individuals out- runs the possibility of comprehension in any one art or science), we may take it for a consequence, that rhetoric will be equally far from proposing to itself, or considering any probability, with re- ference to any one individual, or attempt per- suasion in that way : for example, it will not search into the probability of a thing affecting So- crates or Hippias, but it will consider the pro- bable effect upon such minds, under the circum- stance of different inclinations and moral dispo- sitions. In like manner it is that logic trifles not in arguing or syllogising upon every indifferent mat- ter which presents itself, even though that matter may appear to certain individuals in the light of probability ; for there are things which, as pro- bable, strike certain persons, such as fools and madmen. The only matters on which logic ex- pends its arguments, are those which, not being of themselves sufficiently warranted, stand in need of being proved. As to rhetoric, it applies itself solely to subjects which have customarily been matter of deliberation, examining those things upon which men ordinarily consider, and to which no art is attached : this too it does, for the convenience of unenlightened auditors incapable 2, A DISSIRTAtlOW of comprehending any thing which embraces se- veral topics at once, or or following up in their minds a lengthened series of reasoning. Here it may be observed, that deliberation is generally consequent alone upon what appears to have fallen out differently from previous experience this being the only source of deliberation. Be- sides, it is impossible to deliberate upon the past, when we cannot prevent the occurrence which has taken place : nor upon the future, for it is out of our power to turn the course of events : nor upon the present, for it is not practicable to annihilate the existence of a thing, at least, so long as the opinion and belief concerning it shall obtain. The Manner of ARGUING in RHETORIC. As to what regards argument upon, and the establishment of any matter syllogistically, or by consequences, two methods are generally em- ployed on this head, viz. either by inferring conclusions from propositions which are al- ready proved by other syllogisms or arguments ; or, secondly, by deducing from propositions stand- ing in need of being so proved, on account of their not being probable of themselves. But, perhaps, neither of these two methods is proper for the purposes of rhetoric: the first, by reason of its intricacy and length, being above the com- prehension of a simple and unintelligent hearer; and the second, on account of its incapacity to UPON RHETORIC. 33 persuade, because it advances matters neither carrying probability with them, nor avowed by the world. From these observations it follows, respecting enthymem and example, that they should be always employed upon matters of un- certainty, and upon subjects which have ordi- narily happened in a different manner from the existing one. And, with respect to the form of the enthymem, we may lay down, that it cannot advance so many circumstances, or be composed of as many propositions as the perfect syllogism ; because, if one of these propositions be known, the auditor requires of us to omit it. For ex- ample : we wish to proclaim, " that Doricus, the famous wrestler, has conquered, and been crown- ed at the Olympic games ;" it would be quite sufficient to say, " that Doricus obtained the prize ;" there being no necessity of adding the general proposition-" that the victors at those games are crowned there," because that custom is yniversally known to be general. The Nature of those Propositions, of which the ENTHYMEM is composed. Among the propositions, wherewith rhetoric forms its syllogisms, there are but few founded upon necessity ; for the greater part of those matters which are adjudged at bar, and those deliberathely treated of, arc uncertain so far as they induce the G 34 A DISSERTATION possibility of -varied contingency in all. Besides, de- liberativespeculationsare hinged uponmatter of ex- tended enterprise, or agency, and it is well known that all human actions are of such a nature, as to prevent our calculation upon necessary effects, or infallible event. Let us consider, then, that contingent propositions, which are true only in re- lation to ordinary circumstances, should be always proved by others of a similar nature, and un- certain as themselves ; while, on the other hand, necessaries must be proved by necessaries (as has already been said in the Analytics). It will be con- sequent, that the derivative matter of enthymem will be, for the most part, UNCERTAIN, or CONTINGENT, and very little of it NECESSARY. In truth, every enthymem which is made, rests its proof either upon probability or signs ; inso- much, that such probability, and such signs, should be but one and the same thing reciprocally, in regard to matters of necessity and uncertainty ; and, in fact, properly speaking, probability is that which ordinarily happens, not absolutely ; not, ss some persons pretend to have it, in the definitions which they give on this head, indif-r fesrently comprehending, under the title of pro- bable, all things, of whatsoever nature they may be, never troubling themselves about the fit- ness, or unfctness, of their universality. In rhe- toric, probability should be solely understood as relating to matters which do not always occur UPON RHETORIC. 35 alike, and to be only connected with those things from which its quality is reflected, in the same relationship which universal bears Of SIGNS, and their Difference. Of these, there are two kinds; one relating to things which the species of sign represents, as from par titular to universal ; i. e. it must be proved in the same way, as if we proved a general by a particular proposition. The second kind is the converse of the othe in relation, being from universal to particular'. Of the latter, there are again two classes : the first, necessary; to which the name of tecmerium has been given ; the second, not necessary', and simply called signs. By necessary signs^ I under- stand those which may become syllogistic matter ; herein the proof is convincing; and with this class, for that reason, the tecmerium is num- bered. For whenever an orator alleges, in proof, matters which he thinks unanswerable, such '... '_ proof he qualifies by the appellation of tecmerium, as if he should say, "This proof is demonstrative, and puts an end to the question." The word '* lennar, which is the root of tecmerium, in the old signification, implies the idea of boundary. Now for examples of those signs, and first of that kind which we have mentioned, to bear the relation of particular to universal. For ia- stance ; the following made of reasoning : C 2 36 A DISSERTATION ff A sign that all men of ability are virtuous, is, that Socrates, who was a man of ability, was also a virtuous one." Such reasoning would be adducing a sign for its proof. However, that sign would not bo either necessary or convincing, because it could not be reduced to a syllogism, which never draws an universal from a simple proposition. But if a person reasoned thus : " A sign that such a man is sick, is, that he has a fever " Or, " A sign that such a woman is a mother, is, that she has got a breast of milk :*' This sort of sign would be necessary, and the only one which we could call teenier ium ; for when any sign is of such quality, that it singly suffices to impress the truth of what is said, the proof is then convincing and unanswerable. As to the other species of signs which stand in the relation of universal to particular, and which are not necessary, the following may serve to il- lustrate : " A sign of that man's having a fever, is, that he respires as if he were out of breath." This would be certainly true, but easily an- swered, since it often happens that a man is out of breath without being in a fever. Haying explained the nature of probability and UPON RHETORIC. 37 signs, and also recounted the different species of the latter, with their several distinctions, I shall refer the reader for a more detailed account o those matters to the ANALYTICS. Of EXAMPLE* The affinity of this with induction, and in what the latter consists, has already been shown. Ex- &nple must not be considered, in regard to those subjects which it serves to exemplify, as the par- ticular is considered with regard to its universal, or vice 'versa ; and still less in the relation of universals to each other. But it must be viewed in the light of one particular with another, and in the relation of like to like. Whenever two. things are found under one common kind, and that one is more known than the other, that which is more known is properly termed example. For supposing me inclined to demonstrate, that when Dionysius of Syracuse demanded body-guards, he had a design of becoming tyrant ; I would say that Pisistratus, in the same manner, at first de- manded body-guards, and, when he got them, seized upon the government. I would say that Theagenes acted in the same manner at Me gar a ; and would adduce still farther instances wherein tyrants had become such by the like proceedings ; all which would serve as an example to Dionysius of Syracuse ; but yet it would not be clear that lit demanded body-guards with any such design. c 3 38 A DISSERTAflOf* All the above-cited examples may be compre* hended under this general proposition, viz. " That whoever meditates tyranny, and seizure of the government, demands body-guards." Thus far have we shown in what consists the rhetorical proofs, which appear to be demon- strative. The DIFFERENCE O/ENTHYMEMS. The difference of those is so great, that few can boast a thorough knowledge of them ; in fact, it is the same as the difference between logical syllogisms ; some enlhyntems being as pecu- liar to rhetoric, as some syllogisms are to logic. More of them pertain to other different arts and faculties, either of invention or known science. Hence the obscurity with which they appear to the auditor; and hence, those who use them con- trary to the lessons of rhetoric or logic, ramble wide of their art, and no longer reason either as logicians or orators. This will appear more evi- dent upon farther explanation. We must next observe, that the logical syllogisms are those to which we assign places. Of the latter, there are two kinds : one common the other proper. By common-place^ I mean that which will serve in proof ot divers matters^ such as jurisprudence, physics, politics, and many other matters spe- cially different from one another. Of this descrip- VPON RHETORIC. 39 (ion, is the common-place, which treats of greater and lesser; because we may derive from it syl- logisms and enthymems upon matters of right or physics equally as well as upon other sciences j and yet all these matters are severally distinct. Place-proper is that which is particular to each kind and each species of propositions. For in- stance ; there are propositions so dependant upon physics as to preclude the inference of enthymems and syllogisms for the proof of ethics, and vice versa. This is to be equally understood of ail other particular and specific propositions. It must be here remarked of common-place, that % it, a man will never become learned upon any particular subject, because it is vague, and treats of no determinate matter. It is otherwise with place-proper i for, the more those proposi- tions which we draw from it are select, and par- ticular to the subject of which we treat, the more removed we become from logic and rhetoric, and the nearer we approach some other science : the reason is obvious, because, if we carry back those propositions to principles, our reasoning and proof have no further concern with logic or rhe- toric, but with that science alone, on the prin- ciples of which we have touched. We must farther observe, that the greater part of en- thymems are derived solely from pl^ce-propcr^ and very few proceeding from common-place. We shall then make a division of euthymems in c 4 4<3 A DISSERTATION the same manner as we have already done in our Topics, viz. into as many places proper as there are sorts of propositions whence they might be derived. I shall name those propositions places proper of enlhymems, which are particular to each kind of rhetoric separately : those propositions shall be called places common of enthymem, which are common to all the kinds aggregated, and which serve in proof of all sorts of matter. Let us now speak of those branches, into which rhetoric resolves itself, that, having recounted them as to number, we may see in particular, the elements of each, and the propositions befitting them. CHAP. III. The KINDS of Rhetoric. Rhetoric has, within it, as many divisions of kind, as there are descriptions of auditors* viz, three. For, every discourse turns upon three subjects of consideration ; to wit, the speaker, the subject treated of, and the person addressed. The latter is termed the auditor, and to him the discourse principally refers. Every auditor should he, of necessity, either a simple hearer or a judge. In the latter case, he is to take cognizance either of things already done, or those not yet done* UPON RHETORIC* 41 An auditor, who has to judge of what has not yet happened, but which is merely intended, may be illustrated by the people of Athens, as- sembled in debate upon the affairs of the re- public. He who pronounces on the past, and what has been accomplished, is, properly speak- ing, a magistrate, or judge. And, finally, the simple hearer is he who comes for the gratifi- cation of curiosity, or to enjoy the pleasure of hearing a distinguished orator. The three kinds of rhetoric correspondent with these three descrip- tions of auditors, are The deliberative, The judiciary, and The demonstrative. The first of these comprises two parts, viz, persuasion and dissuasion ; for, whether in private or public debate, one or other of them is gene- rally atchieved. The second kind has also two subordinate parts, namely, accusation and defence ; for the general result of the advocate's pleading turn* upon either of the two. The third kind also contains under it two parts, encomium and inculpation. To each of the above three kinds of rhetoric, is also incident a time peculiar to it indivi- 1 dually. The future pertains to the deliberative ; for every man who deliberates, whether for the purpose of 4$ A DISSERTATION advising or dissuading, does so on matters which have not yet occurred. The past is appropriate to t\\e judiciary kind f for no actions are ever accused or defended, ex- cept those which have been accomplished. And the present is most applicable to the de- monstrative, because nothing is praised or cen- sured if it be not effective, and'in operation. Not but that orators will, in this case, fre- quently introduce the mention of the past for the purpose of awakening the recollection to any subject ; and even anticipate what has not oc- curred, as in judging of futurity. Furthermore, each of these kinds proposes to itself a particular end and object; and, consequently, there are three different ends, i. e. each of the three has an opposite ; for example : The deliberative proposes to kself an end either useful or noxious ; for, whatever the orator under- takes to persuade, he lays down as the best thing possible ; while the object of his dissuasion is re- probated as the worst. He is not, however, to be understood as surrendering his right to use the ends proposed by the two other kinds, in -order to strengthen his proof. For instance ; he will endeavour to show that the thing is just or unjust, honest or dishonest. The judiciary pleader proposes to represent his subject either in the light of justice, or its opposite, and, for that purpose, he enjoys the privilege of UPON RHETORIC. 43 reserving whatever is to his advantage in the deli- berative or demonstrative. Finally, the orator whd enforces praise or censure, pretends also to show that the object of his praise is honourable, or that of his censure to the contrary. The same advantage which the two preceding enjoyed, is annexed to him. A certain proof that each of the foregoing kinds proposes to itself no other end thart that particular one which we have specified, is, that, touching the other points, we seldom find any contest between them respectively. For example ; the judiciary pleader often will allow a thing to be done which has been prejudicial, but at the same time he will not concede that it was unjust ; if he did, there would be no utility in his plea. The same may be said of the deliberative orator, who will often grant you every other point, except those affect- ing his immediate persuasion or dissuasion, of utility or disadvantage. Now, in order to know \vhethcr the subject of advice be contrary to jus- tice or not, let us suppose the advice of an orator to be, the subjection of a neighbouring people, who have committed no injury : the latter part is what he not only does hot think of, but even gives himself little trouble to think of. So it is with those who praise or censure ano^ ther: so far from examining whether he has done that which will be matter of profit or loss to him; that they frequently commend him more- 44 A DISSERTATION fora contempt of self-interest in undertaking any glorious action. For instance, they load with encomiums AchilleSy who, though perfectly assured that he should perish, in avenging the death of Patroclus, his greatest friend, preferred the loss of life, to the impunity of his affront. It is, however, cer- , tain, that if, on the one hand, such a death was glorious ; on the other, the prolongation of his life would have been of advantage to him. o The Necessity of COMMON-PLACE, and PLACE- PROPER. From what has been said, it is plainly neces- sary to amass a certain fund of propositions upon all subjects of discourse connected with the three kinds of rhetoric. And further, it is to be recol- lected, that the propositions made use of in rhe- toric are all derived from probability, and from, signs both simple and necessary. Besides, the ne- cessity of thus having a number of propositions in store, arises from the impossibility of making syllogisms without them. Thus, enthymem, be- ing a species of syllogism, must be also com- posed of propositions, but of the same quality with those already taken notice of. But, because a man cannot aver, that a thing, at all impossible, can ever have been done, or that it cannot be done, such averment pertaining only to things possible in their nature ; and fur- VPON RHETORIC. 45 ther, because it is impossible that what has not been done, nor ever ought to be done, has been already done, or will in time be done ; it will be necessary for the orator, either in deliberation or pleading, or in subjects of the demonstrative kind, to be possessed of another fund of propo- sitions both on matters of posswiJity and its con- trary. And this, to the end that he may know whether the thing will be done ; whether it will happen, or not. And still further, the orator, in whichsoever of the three kinds of rhetoric he may be concerned, should not only prove so far as is hitherto re- quired, but also manifest, that the thing of which he speaks, whatever be its quality, is either greats or other-wise) important or the contrary. This, too, he should attend to invariably, whether he con r siders the things in themselves independently, or in comparison with each other, Certain it is, that he will find the necessity of having store of propositions, general and particular, both upon, greatness and littleness, as also upon the comparative ^xcess of each ; in order that he may know what particular good will be greater or less than ano~ ther ; what actions are more just or unjust, &c. We now come to point out the matter where the propositions to be employed, must be, of necessity, derived. We shall speak of each in particular, as it will regard each of the three dis- tinct kinds of rhetoric^ 46 A DISSERTATION CHAP. IV. Or DELIBERATIVE RHETORIC, On Matters which fall under Deliberation. In this division of the art, the principal thing to be attended to, is, a regard to the quality of the good or evil, which the deliberator ordinarily examines, and upon which he gives his advice. For, assuredly he does not examine them fully and entirely, as he stops but to dwell on what is uncertain, equally judging of their contingent, or contrary power ; since those things which happen necessarily and uniformly, or those which, from total impossibility, cannot exist, are never thrown into the scale of deliberation. It must also be taken for granted, that deliberation is never employed upon whatever ^oc^ is absolutely uncertain: one part, perhaps, being dependent on nature; the other, on fortune. They may both happen or not ; and, therefore, it would be use- less to make either the subject of deliberation. From this it is easy to see what description of good or evil may truly come under deliberative consideration. Under this head we may rank all those gwds. or evih which, from their nature, have a relation, to us, and which could not have existed without us, containing, as we do, within us the prin- UPON RHETORIC. 47 ciples of their production ; for we commonly make the recognisance of our power to do any thing, the subject of deliberation. This is npt the proper place to make an exact research into, and a precise enumeration of, all those things on which men usually deliberate, and still less of treating them fundamentally, and giving a thorough insight into them. Such an employment pertains to an art more excellent in. itself, and more specially intelligent than rhetoric ; for, so far from rhetoric being capable of treating any subject fundamentally, that there is even more knowledge generally attributed to its province, than naturally pertains to it. As was remark- ed in the outset, rhetoric is composed, in the first place, of analytics, which is an emanation of logic; in the second place, of that part of politics which is attached to morality, or elhics ; and, thirdly, it partly bears a resemblance to logic, and partly to that evasive mode of reasoning called sophistry. But the strongest proof of its inca- pacity to treat a subject fundamentally is, that, the more pains an orator takes to employ either dialectics or rhetoric out of their sphere of general reasoning, as simple faculties, and convert them into exact sciences, the more he will unwittingly destroy the nature of both. For, if he treats them as sciences, he will confine them within certain subjects, whereas they themselves profess *o run out upon all sprts of matter. 48 A DISSERTATION In those subjects which create deliberation in a slate there are five principal points which give origin to debate in public assemblies : 1. Matters of finance. 2. The affairs of war and peace. 3. The strengthening of places by garrison. 4. The exports and imports of provision and merchandise. 5. The establishment of laws. If the orator's subject be finance^ he must be, in the first place, acquainted with the nature and amount of the state- revenues, in order that those funds be re-established which may have been turned from their channel, or a right augmented, where it has suffered diminution. He must also be acquainted with the annual expenditure of the state, -for the purposes of retrenchment, in case of superfluity, or reduction, in case of exaggera- tion ; for there is wealth in the retrenchment of what is useless, as well as in the increase of pos- sessions. But pertinently speaking on all these heads, it will not be alone sufficient that a man's own experience in such matters be his guide, but he must be equally directed by invention and his- toric precedent. Has the orator to deliberate upon the affairs of war and peace? He must well know the power of the state, the present extent of its force, and the ultimatum of its possible increase ; the nature of such force, or the additions necessary to b.Q UPON RHETORIC. 49 made. He must be equally versed In the his- tory and issues of former wars maintained by such state ; and not only this, but it is even requisite that he should he acquainted with those maintained by all the surrounding and adjacent states : with the warlike or pacific disposition of either, his acquaintance should be profound, in order that, upon emergency, a proper distinction might be made, in the favour of his own, be- tween the powerful and the feeble. By a com- parative estimate of our own forces with those of an enemy, we can alone judge of our adequacy . or inadequacy to support a contest. This consi- deration generally involves the loss or gain of battles. Upon this subject pur reference must be universal, with respect to the aggregate wars of all nations, wherefrom some particular enter- prise will, most probably, adapt itself in circum- stance to that which we may have in hand. As to the question of garrisons, equal consider- ation must be had to the knowledge of that kind of defence peculiar to any particular place the description and amount of the garrisoning force, and the natural or artificial situation of each strong hold. This, to the end of reinforcement, in case of debility, or the removal of such a portion as a strict necessity does not require ; or, in fine, that every useful disposition might be made for the defence of an important place : this knowledge cannot be obtained, except by a o $<3 A DISSERTATION thorough acquaintance with each particulaf country. With regard to the subject of provisions, the knowledge necessary to be acquired should take in the quantity requisite for the support of a state, the quality of those which are of native growth, and those imported from abroad. It is equally indispensable to understand the fitness of certain articles of merchandise, either for import or export. This point will comprise the practi- cability of forming treaties of alliance and amity, with those nations which may either glut us with unnecessary articles, or those which supply us with the necessaries of life. VVe should be particu- larly cautious in offering offence either to those which are more powerful than ourselves, or those absolutely necessary and useful to us. In these four points, are summed up whatever politically regards the safety of a state ; and with them, the deliberative orator should form a parti- cular acquaintance. The fifth and last point essential to this de- scription of oratory, is by no means less import- ant than the others, viz. the establishment of late s : because it is principally upon the observance and establishment of internal laws that the safety of every state depends. The legislative speaker should be thoroughly apprized, First, How many forms of government there are ; Secondly, What is convenient and agreeable to, or UPON RHETORIC. 51 destructive of, each ; and, Thirdly, Whether certain things be proper and essential, or in their fcature repugnant to each. For, a state may be destroyed even by those very circumstances which established it. Because, if we except that alone which is truly perfect, we may scarce say that there is not a state which is not liable to be over- whelmed either oy multiplying or subtracting from its essentials. For example, if a popular state obtain either more or less than its essential liberty, it dwindles and degenerates into an oli- garchy. Just as in the case of a snub or aquiline nose, the superfluity of the latter will repair the deficiency of the former ; but if you attempt to render the one more snubbed, or the other more aquiline^ you will, in the end, efface the distinctive quality of nose altogether. In debating the establishment of law, the ora- tor is not to confine himself to the question of fitness, within the practice of his own country but whenever the question turns upon the best form of government, his reading should in- struct him, by a review of the transactions in other countries, what kind of laws are most ap- propriate to certain descriptions of people. Hence it is evidently to be inferred, First, That /raw/ is of use in forming a legislature; because, by a travelled converse with different nations, an ex- perience of their laws is obtained: Secondly, That he who would convince in a public assembly, D 2 A DISSEfcTATlOW must be perfectly well versed in history. All these considerations are peculiarly the province of politics, and are not, by any means, appropriate to rhetoric. CHAP. V. Of the SOVEREIGN GOOD, or, SUMMUM BONUJVJ, and its Parts. i There is not a person, either in common, or in particular, who does not lay down for himself some certain end in life : every man keeps the attainment of it incessantly within his view ; and every man, as far as regards himself, does all in his power towards acquiring or avoiding certain things, Now this end y is what we call the sove- reign good, felicity , and every thing dependent upon it. In order, then, to form some idea of it, let us say something generally of this happiness, or sovereign good, or that which is also a part, since it is the object of every persuasion, or dis- suasion, according as the one may lead to, or the ether detract from it. For, in fact, every thing capable of rendering us absolutely happy, or only so in party or whatever out of an inconsiderable may produce a considerable good, should be al- ways the end of our actions ; while, on the other band, we should refrain from those tilings which UPON RHETORIC. $$ destroy or impede our happiness, or create a si- tuation contrary to it. Now, let us suppose that happiness consists, In a life, every action of which succeeds to the satisfaction of the agent, without his swerving, in any degree, from the duties of a virtuous and honest man : Or, //; that condition of life which excludes ne- cessity ; Or, In so perfect an enjoyment, that pleasure meets no interruption : Or, In being so admirably possessed of every thing> as to have it in our power to preserve; it in time of need, and, even though it may be lost, to acquire it anew. These will, without doubt, by the whole world, be allowed to constitute the sovereign happiness of man ; either by the single possession of one, or the aggregate enjoyment of all. Upon the supposition of happiness being such as is here represented, we should enumerate, among those things which create it partially, the following, viz. birth, credit, the friendship of honest men, wealth, the advantage of a perfect and numerous, progeny, and the enjoyment of an old age, undisturbed by cares or inconveniences. We may likewise add to the list, all fye $4 A DISSERTATION qualities of the body -for instance : healthy beauty ^ strength, stature, and address in all kinds of exer- cises ; and, still further : glory , honours, and good fortune, and virtue, with its dependents, viz. pru- dence, valour, temperance, justice, Sec. For, cer- tainly, that man will acknowledge himself su- premely content, who feels himself possessed hoth of those goods which are innate within our- selves, and those which are externally derived. There is no need of searching further than these two sources. I call those goods, innate within one's self, which serve to embellish the mind, and render the body perfect : and I give the name of extraneous to such as nobility, friends, honours, and riches. Notwithstanding the many degrees leading to happiness, which I have re- counted, man would feel gratified and assured that his felicity was complete, in the possession of power and the favour of fortune* The component Parts of Happiness. Nobility may be considered in two ways, either with regard to an entire people or a single indivi* dual. A people may be distinguished for nobi- lity, by being aboriginal of the country they in- habit, or, at least, by their antiquity. A people may also acquire the epithet from the lustre of their foanders, and from having produced a num- ber of men distinguished for wisdom, valour, justice, or any other emulative advantage. The of an individual may arise out of his UPON RHETORIC. 55 male or female ancestry, or both, particularly if his birth be legitimate. Now, this latter will also receive still greater consequence, if a man's earliest progenitors have been remarkable for virtue, great possessions, or any other creditable circumstances ; and not only so, but it would heighten the lustre, if the original glory of an- cestry were increased by the descendants, in all the distinctions of sex or age, It is not difficult to comprehend what I mean by the happiness of having a progeny. Generally speaking, this blessing may apply to a city or state, containing a number of young persons, well endowed, either in body or in mind. The two good qualities of the latter, temperance and valour , are peculiarly appropriate to youth. In^ dwidually speaking, we call a man happy in his offspring, when it is numerous, distributive in sex, and remarkable for those good qualities al- ready recited. The qualities of body commend- able in the female, are, beauty and shape ; and those of mind, peculiar to the sex, are, temper- ance, and a love of management (without de- scending to meanness), which is ever praise- worthy in women of rank. The possession, of offspring cannot be called a happy one, if these several virtues and qualities are not at- tendant upon it. And here, I may be permitted to observe, that persons circumstanced as were the Lacedemonians i whose children are \\\ brought P 4 5 A DISSERTATION up, can only be considered half-happy in their possession. As for riches, this term comprises treasure^ large inheritance, fine lands, furniture, flocks, and slaves : the latter, particularly if they be distin* guished for their stature, beauty, or number. It is not sufficient that a man be thus possessed in order to the denomination of rich, if his pos- session be not secure, honourable, and profitable. A thing is attended with profit when it bears a right relation to another. Such a possession, for instance, is that from which you derive a rent : a thing is honourable when it is made use of by the possessor for his pleasure alone : such an one, for example, as goes no further in its application than the owner's use. The security of a possession consists in our enjoyment of it being unrestricted ; and in its being our property alone. Property is that which carries with it the right of alienation, either by sale or gift. Possession, without use, is not fairly en- titled to the quality of wealth, which, properly speaking, is the use of one's possessions. The essence of glory and reputation consists in passing with the world as men of virtue, or as possessors of ad vantages which others passionately desire, as men of distinguished honesty, or men of genius. Honour is the testimony of that esteem which the world pays chiefly to good men. It is also UPON RHETORIC. $J extended to those who have it in their power to do good. A good action is to be considered so in relation to life, or to that which may cause its preservation ; to wealth, or any other of those advantages difficult of acquisition, either abso- lutely, in a certain place, or at a certain season. Thus it is, that we often perceive great honour and great submission paid to several, in consider- ation of matters apparently very unimportant, merely because the occasion or the difficulty of the achievement rendered them of value. Men may be honoured in various ways: such as* by the offering of sacrifices -public ins crip tions s poetic or prosaic rewards particular places conse- crated to them precedence monuments statues public pensions, or (agreeably to the custom of some foreign nations) by prostrations on the earth, or giving way to the object of respect as he passes: to these may be added, presents. The latter, in fact, is of that particular nature, that it conveys a double donation, both of the article presented and the esteem of him who bestows it. In these, the avaricious and ambitious man equally de- light; each finding in them the object of his; research the former an acquisition the latter, honour. Health, properly speaking, is a bodily virtue. It should, however, be possessed in that degree which would not impede the exercise of all our functions without danger of hurting it. There 58 A DISSERTATION' are many who enjoy health upon the same condi- tions with Herodicus, who cannot be called happy in this respect, as he is obliged to refrain wholly, or in a great measure, from what can render life agreeable. Beauty differs according to different ages. A young man's beauty consists in the fitness of his body to all kinds of exercise : such as the foot- race, or other exertions requiring personal vigour ; added to this, his entire mien should be pleasing to the view, without satiating the beholder. For this reason, those who are adapted to feats of wrestling, racing, or boxing, are particularly handsome. The beauty of a grown man consists in his ability to support the fatigues of war, and in his possessing a countenance where the agreeable and formidable are mingled. The beauty of an old man consists in his capability of performing, without cause of complaint, all his necessary functions, and in feeling none of those inconveniences which ordinarily afflict old age. Strength consists in the power of turning and managing any thing at our will this may be Hone in four ways : by draught, push, elevation, crush or squeezing. He is not to be called strong, who cannot perform either one or all of these feats. With regard to proper stature, that man is said to possess it, who surpasses the generality of UPON RHETORIC. 59 others in height, in breadth, or in grossness, provided that he is not proportionally rendered heavier or slower in his movements. The man who would be considered athletic (having three sorts of exercise to perform, viz. wrestling, racing, and boxing), must be possessed of the three bodily advantages size, strength, and agility: every active man is also a strong man. He who can throw forward his legs in a cer- tain quick manner of advance, is fit for the foot-race. dpoiuKof. He who can hug and hold his man firm, is adapted to wrestling ; and 7rctK F 3 A DISSERTATION " Whate'crl know, is from myself derived *." 54. The most considerable portion of a thing, in if self considerable, should be more esteemed than any of its other parts. It was upon this basis that Pericles, in his funeral oration delivered in honour of those who died in the service of the state, made use of the following language : " The loss of so many va- liant youths should be no less felt by the public, than would the retrenchment of spring be felt by the year." 55. Those things sltould be reckoned of greattst good, which are of most service to its in our greatest wants : for instance, in our old age, or affliction of disease. 56. Of two things, having relation to the same end, that which is more approximate to it is the pre- ferable one. 57. That good which is particularly applicable to ourselves, is of superior value to what is simply a general good. 58. That good which it is in our power to acquire if we incline to it, is preferable to any other which we know it is perfectly impossible for us to possess. 59. Those goods which cannot be acquired but to- wards the end of our days, are by far the more estimable : for, being more approximate to an they are more participant of its nature. * Odyss. 1. xxii. UPON RHETORIC. Sj 69. Wliate-ver holds more to truth, is better than that which is merely dependent upon opinion. Now, in order to know a case of the latter description, we should examine whether the person delivering an opinion would do so, in case it were not to be communicated. Thus it may be said, u That to receive a favour from a person, is more desirable than to do one ; because one would willingly re< ceive always when he could be assured that it was secret." It is not so with respect to a gift, because it is feasible that few would be inclined to give^ if their liberality was always to remain secret. 6 1. That thing is superior in advantage which ive 'would rather possess effectually than apparently : for such a thing will hold more to truth. Hence some people conclude, " That justice is a virtue, of which we should not make a great show ;" because, say they, '' people generally prefer ap- pearing just, to being so in reality." This is not the case with health, for we usually prefer its reality to its appearance. 62. Whatever is useful in its application to the greater number of things, is most estimable. An instance may be found in whatever at the same time not only contributes to life, but also renders it agreeable, conferring the enjoyment of every pleasure, and inciting to distinguished enterprise : for this reason, riches and health are most esteemed by the world, as sources of the greatest advantage. 8 A DISSERTATION 63. That is the greatest good which is at once wempt from pain and accompanied by pleasure : for two goods together are better than one ; there be- ing a good in exemption from pain, as well as in the possession of pleasure. 64. Of I wo things, one whereof, by its addition to any given thing, will form a total more consider- able than would result from the annexation of any thing else, that which causes the greater totality, is the preferable one. 6$. That good which we perceive, and are sensible of upon possession, is preferable to what bestows no greater sensation than if it were not at all possessed: for the former is more nearly connected with truth. Thus : to be rich in effect, is more re- garded than the being so only in appearance. 66. Those things which we hold dearest are most estimable, and particularly so to those who set a high lvalue upon any one thing which alone remains to them cut of numerous possessions, rather than to persons who, being possessed of one single thing throughout, cantiot hold it in equal estimation. Hence the law inflicts a severer punishment on him who deprives another of the only eye which he had, than if he had deprived a man of one who possessed two. So far have we given a series of proofs which may be of service in persuasion or dissuasion. UPON RHETORIC. CHAP. VIII. Of the SUPREME AUTHORITY and of STATES, considered m each particular Kind. Upon the whole, the best mode of persuading, and the surest road to successful oratory, in a public deliberative assembly, is through an ac- quaintance with every existing form of govern- ment, and the manners individually peculiar to each, with a distinctive knowledge of their laws, customs, and peculiar advantages. For, men are so constituted as to be led by their interests, whenever a thing productive of use to them is proposed. Whatever is useful in any state tends to its support. In explaining the nature of each particular one, let us first see in what the sove- reign authority consists. The supreme power or authority is nothing more than what is contained in the established ordinances of those who have the control and management of public affairs. And it is divisible into as many modifications as there are distinct forms of government. Of those, then, there are four, viz. DEMOCRACY, OLIGARCHY, ARISTOCRACY, and MONARCHY. 9O A DISSERTATION So that the commanding power in a state is to be considered either simply as a part, or as a total \ either as divided among many, or com- prised within one. Democracy is that popular form of government, wherein each charge of trust is competent to any one of the people by lot. Oligarchy is that form which confers power on theym>, who are superior in point of possessions. An Aristocracy consists in the monopoly of power by those who are distinguished through superior education. By the latter term I mean, that particular instruction and those manners which the law of the state prescribes: for, it must be undcr- stoodj that, in this form of government,^ none but perfect conformists with the law can attain high employment, and the management of affairs. Hence, as from such conformity an appearance of possessing honour is derived, the name by which such a government is designated has been given. The word itself properly means, that state which endows the best men with authority. The monarchical form of government is easily understood from its name, which expresses that state wherein a single man is supreme above all the rest. Such a government is differently en- titled, according to the person who governs, either adhering to regulations, or being attentive to no other law than that which his own arbitrary will or fancy may prescribe. The former de- UPON RHETORIC. 91 scription of ruler is properly a king, the latter a tyrant. In order still further to arrive at the capacity of persuading in a public assembly, a man should not be ignorant of the particular end which each of those governmental forms proposes to itself; every action of a state being universally directed to the object and end which it lays down. The end of democracy is liberty ; That of oligarchy is wealth : Of aristocracy, good education and observance of the laws : While tyranny proposes as its object the main- tenance of guards for the security of the tyrant. However, as the orator not only persuades by demonstrating and proving his subject, but also by speaking in such wise as that an opinion may be formed of his own moral habitudes; (for, in fact, we often attach credit to the words of a particular man, I mean an honest one, by reason of his being such, or of one for whom we have formed a regard :) for this reason, I say, it will not be amiss to know, what moral or manner is most agreeable to each form of government ; for there is nothing more powerfully persuasive than an appearance of the orator's possessing those manners which conform to the state wherein or whereof he speaks. Such he should take as his model, and recur to no other. We may obtain a knowledge of them from an, observance of the 92 A DISSERTATION particular mode of action affected by each state upon its determinate matters of enterprise or choice, such matters having always a relation to the end proposed. As far as we have hitherto gone, a summary has been established of those matters, necessary to be known by the deliberative orator, either upon subjects of occurrence or expectancy ; pro- positions of utility, manners, laws, customs, &c. Particularity has not been attended to so much as general observation, because those mat- ters have been more extensively treated of in our Politics. CHAP. IX. DEMONSTRATIVE RHETORIC. Of VIRTUE, generally and particularly. Since virtue or vice, honour or dishonour, are the ends of encomiastic or invective oratory, we shall say something respecting them. In doing so, we shall at the same time give an insight into such things as tend to set off the speaker to advantage in the minds of his auditors, and to impress a favourable opinion of his morals. This, as before remarked, is the second species of artificial proof. In fact, whoever would have us believe another man to be honest and virtuous, UPON RHETORIC. 93 will best carry his point by exhibiting those qua- lities in himselt ; and, since it frequently hap- pens, that, either in jest, or serious earnest, not only divinities and men, but even things inanimate and animals, may be the subjects of our praise, we shall, on the matter of commend- ation and censure, as on others heretofore, have recourse to the establishment of propositions which may be of service on those heads. We shall, however, previously enter into a short line of reasoning upon the ideas attached to the terms honour and 'virtue. By the word honour we understand, a thing which being of itself desirable, merits commendation: or, that which in itself being a good t is agreeable merely on account of its being good. Allowing us to suppose this definition true, it must follow as a consequence, that 'virtue is honourable ; for, besides being good, it is also praiseworthy. Judging of virtue only by its appearance to us, it may receive the two following definitions: 1. A power capable of acquiring and preserving to us considerable advantages ; or, 2. A power capable of obliging considerably ; upon important occasions finding nothing difficult of enterprise, and which can do all in all. The subordinate divisions of virtue, or, as they are termed, the particular virtues, may be thus classed : 94 A DISSERTATION Justice, valour, temperance, munificence, magnanimity, liberality, clemency, prudence, and wisdom. Upon the datum of virtue being what was just now said, we should rank among its principal subordinates, those which are of con- slderable utility to others^ as the province of vir- tue consists in obliging. For this reason, the principal distinctions of honour among men are paid to theywj/ and the valiant ; as the former render particular service in time of peace, and the latter are distinguishingly useful in time of war. Next to these the liberal man is most honoured ; for, instead of scrambling for money, the idol of all others' research and adoration, he never feels more enjoyment than in the distribution of it by largesses, &c. Of particular Virtues. Justice is defined to be, that virtue which pre- serves his property to- every individual of a state^ conformably to the laws and ordinances therein established. Its contrary is a vice, which stimu- lates to the usurpation and withholdment of another man's goods, contrary to the intention or expression of those laws, Valour y or courage, is that virtue which leads to the undertaking of brilliant actions even in the midst of danger; but upon the condition of such UPON RHETORIC. 95 enterprise not militating against the prescription of law. It may also be exhibited in maintaining the respect and vigour which is due and necessary to the laws. The opposite vice is termed cowardice. Temperance is that virtue which induces us to comply with the law respecting sensual gratifica- tion. Intemperance, or debauch, is the opposite vice. Liberality is that virtue which considers riches only as the means of obliging and doing good. Its contrary is avarice. Magnanimity is a virtue which delights in rendering service upon matters of importance and trying occasions. Pusillanimity is its opposite. Munificence is a virtue which takes pride in a splendid display of large expenditure. Its contrary is meanness. In fine, prudence is that virtue of the mind, which, in respect of the good or evil, already said to be contributory to our happiness or misery, leads us to distinguish between them, so as not to mistake the one for the other. Common-place Positions of Praise. Having considered virtue and vice both gene- rally and particularly, so far as suits our pur- pose, it will not be a matter of hazard or diffi- 96 A DISSERTATION culty to come to the following series of conclu- sions : 1. That whatever contributes to render a man virtuous, is honourable. 2. The same may be concluded of whatever is derivative of virtue either primarily or by conse- quence ; such as all the marks and signs of virtue; and the products of it. Upon these data, with respect to virtue in ge- neral, it will be equally fair to conclude of virtue in particular. For example : 3. Whatever is a mark or effect of valour; even the sufferings of those who have conducted themselves valiantly are honourable. The same may apply to every one of the par- ticular virtues, with the exception of justice; only, however, in that part of the latter relating to the sufferings which il causes ; and even here again partially. For example : it would not be so honourable to receive a just, as it would to suffer an unjust, punishment. 4. All actions are honourable which propose honour for their reward. 5. The same may be said of those things which Bestow more honour than worldly profit. 6. All things are honourable which for their own sake are sought after, if the agent employ himself rather for others than himself. 7. The same deduction applies to every thing merely good in general. For example : whatever UPON RHETORIC. 97 a person undertakes to the prejudice of his own interest for the glory and safety of his country. 8. Whatevet is naturally good is also proper and honourable. 9. Whatever is not merely a selfish good^ but rather applicable to the use and enjoyment of others \ is honourable: lor in this case possession is dis- interested. 13. The same may be affirmed of the tribute ren- dered to a person posthumously rather than while living-, for interested persons are generally agents in the latter case, paying less regard to the real merits and virtues of him whom they honour, than to his credit with men, and the power which he possesses of obliging them. 1 1 . IVe may account as honourable all public works, and whatever is done for others : the agent being the least concerned in the issue. 12. The same conclusion will be applicable to every enterprise happily achieved, and all business successfully conducted, provided the interest of others be consulted rather than our own. 13. It may be equally concluded of whatever we have done to the advantage of those who have obliged us . for gratitude is justice. 14. Every benefit we confer is an act of honour- able propriety : since it is directed towards others, nnd returns nothing to ourselves. 15. The opposite* of those things which cause a ferson to blush, or otherwise excite shame, are honour'' Q 98 A DISSERTATIOK able: for, to blush is (o give testimony against something either indecent or improper in our conversation or actions, or of our intention to ay or act things of such a nature. Hence we find Sappho well remarking upon this head, in the passage where Alcaus is introduced addressing her in the following language : ALC.tUS, In vain would passion prompt my tongue to say^ That Which respect for Sappho must delay, > And shame the courage of desire away. + SAPPHO. At this confession I am sorely griev'd, Nor could desires like thine have e'er believ'd ; For, if legitimate, uncharg'd with crime, They spurn alike both circumstance and time: Nor would thine eyes thus downward now be bent, But by the conscience of eome bad intent. 16. We should equally account as honourable, whatever causes us anxiety and care, provided that we. find at the same time, no inward cause of appre- hension : because the former feelings can only arise out of emulation, or our having designed to acquire some one of those goods, or eminent advantages, which regard our fame and reputa- tion. 17. The works and virtues of the most perfect persons are also the most distinguished and most de~ serving of honour-, for example: those of men, in preference to those of women. $9 1 8. There is more honour attached to what is di- rected more towards the profit and enjoyment of others, than of him by whom if is possessed. For this reason, justice, and every thing partaking of its quality, is held in particular honour. 19. TJiere is wore honour in the design of aveng- ing ortrsfhes upon an enemy than of making matters up -with him \ for, lo retaliate on an enemy is just, and therefore honourable. Besides, it is the duty l of a man possessing generous feelings, not to yield to his enemy, and not to endure being trampled on by him. 20. Victory and 'worldly honours a*~e V'ghly esti- mable ; for they are so far desirable, as thut, al- though they are unproductive of real advantage, yet the possessor is endowed by them, with the semblance of extraordinary merit and exceeding virtue. 21. We may also reckon honourable whatever preserves the memory of a man after death, by making him the subject of living conversation. 22. Thp more any thing is capable of producing the above-named effect, the more honourable it is. 23. As also, of what is not contingent to us, except after death. 24. Every thing is honourable which is followed or accompanied by honour, glory, and reputation. 25. All things of an extraordinary and excelling nature, are likewise honourable. 26. As are those things which none but ourselves Q i IOO A DISSERTATION possess: for, being more remarkable than others, they will be more apt to make us spoken of, and bring us into notice. 27. There is honour in such acquisitions as bear no relation elsewhere: because they shed greater lustre on the liberality of their possessor. 28. Those things which are peculiar to a nation or people individually, are equally honourable. 29. The same may be said of whatever serves to designate those things which by each country or people are particularly esteemed. For instance : it is honourable among the Lacedemonians to wear long hair, as it is considered with them a mark, of liberty and independence. In this there is some reason, for it is not very practicable for a man, with long hair, to perform servile offices. Another custom among that people is, their allowing the exercise of no mechanical art, it being incompatible with liberty to depend on, or be subject to others. Modes of Address whereby Praise or Censure may be unworthily bestowed. Independently of the propositions and infer- ences which we have just laid down upon the subject of praise or censure, they may also be effected by address: and, first, instead of as- cribing to the person, whom we would panegyrize or inculpate, the true qualities which he posseses, by making use of such as resemble or approach UPON RHETORIC. them. For instance, in speaking against a man who is really valiant, but who makes use of stra- tagem in war more than strength, we might call him " a poltroon whose courage was alone effi- cient in detecting treasons or laying ambus- cades." On the other hand, if the niggard is to be praised, we have only to extol his parsimony as prudence. And to the man who is insensible to insult, we might apply the terms mild and peaceful. In a word, we should endeavour to ascribe a virtue to each defect or vice, by attri- buting to them a denomination from matters usually attendant or consequent upon them. Thus, speaking in favour of a rough and choleric man we would say, " He is candid and open, and cannot dissemble." Thus we might equally shelter the haughty and arrogant man under noble demeanour, and conduct befitting his quality. Secondly : address herein may be made use of, by attributing the distinction of virtue to trans- gressions of excess : such as by naming rashness, valour ; or giving the appellation of liberality to prodigality. For, besides the deceit which may- be carried on in their names, a thing may also be made to pass as virtuous by a false line of reason" ing; as thus : " The man who unnecessarily runs into danger, must be expected to perform wonders >vhen borne thither at the call of honour/' 3 IOJ A DISSERTATION In the same manner, reasoning upon the -con- duct of a prodigal man, we might say : " Is it to be believed that the person who is indisci!.; inately liberal to every petitioner, should abandon r.is friends in their necessities, and show an avaricious disposition towards them alone ?" For prodigality really seems the effect of an extraordinary virtue and bounty carried to excess, Another observation to be attended to on the head of praise, is the necessity of being cautious before whom we speak. H-nce it was that SOCRATES, not without reason, remarked, " That it ivas no difficult matter to praise the ATHENIANS in speaking to /fo ATHENIANS." According then to the persons before whom the orator is to ap- pear, he must see what things are held in par- ticular estimation by them ; and next, he must speak of such things as if they were truly esti- mable. For example: the same address will not apply to the Scythians, the Lacedemonians, an$ the philosophers. In short, he should bring under the head of real honour what is simply honourable, and only so in the estimation of a few persons ; in fact, there is seemingly no great difference between both. Besides this, in praising a man it is necessary to investigate his actions, and be assured whether they have been befitting and agreeable to his condition and quality ; whether he has done any thing ^vorthy of his birth and ancestry ; whether UPON RHETORIC, 103 his recent correspond with his past acts, or with the expectations formed of him ; for there is not only happiness, but glory also, in the continual increase of reputation and of honour. It will be also right to examine on the contrary side, and by proofs of such a nature there is certainly the finest opportunity of panegyrizing a man ; as, for instance, by demonstrating, " That he never forgot himself in the midst of prospe- rity, but was as modest as before." Or, taking the contrary, " That in the adversity and trouble of his concerns, he supported himself as he ought, and appeared as generous as ever." Or again, " That being of low condition, in pro- portion with his elevation to honour and office, he became more and more condescending, and easier of access." Hereon is founded the self- praise of Iphicrates and the Argolic fisherman, as we before observed. Such also was the praise bestowed by Simonides on Archedice, whose de- meanour to the whole world was so courteous and obliging, though she was, to make use of Simo- 7 . tildes own words, " The daughter, wife, and sister, of puissant kings." Upon the whole, as praise is principally di- rected towards the actions of life, and since it is the province of the virtuous man never to act but from design, it is necessary for the eulogist to endeavour to demonstrate that the object of G 4 I4 A DISSERTATION his praise has never acted by chance, but with intent and deliberate purpose. He must illus- trate this, by the corresponding uniformity of the person's actions, and by collecting together the whole occurrence-, of his life, whether for- tuitous or opportune. To these he must at- tach the value of determined resolution and par- ticular study. When we can ascribe to a person a series of actions thus correspondency similar, it is in a manner a prejudice in favour, or a certain proof, of his being effectually virtuous, having done nothing but from fixed design. Different Species of Eulogy. Of these we may reckon three : The first (tW/vcc) regarding the heroic virtues, and such as are confirmed by long habit. It is defined, A discourse which sets forth to the world the knowledge of a distinguished virtue. In order that praise of this kind should obtain credit, it must be proved that the actions of its object have been habitually the result and the effects of some eminent virtue. The second description of praise (syKupiw) rests upon each particular work and praiseworthy ac- tion of an individual. The most feasible method of impressing belief and inducing persuasion upon any matter of encomium, is, to introduce those circumstances which are usually contingent to it, such as birth, education, &c. For, consti- UPON RHETORIC. 105 tuted as the world is, a probability in favour of our honour is deduced from our being descended of honourable ancestry ; and in point of educa- tion, that every man's conduct is conformable to the manner in which he has been reared. Hence we give the greater praise to those whose actions correspond with their birth and education, because they are apparently of confirmed purpose to good, and proceed from habit. So true is this, that even though a man has performed nothing distinguished during his career, yet he obtains the tribute of our praise if he adhere to this educative -andard of action. The third description of eulogy, to which two names are assigned by the Greeks (pa-Koc^y-pos and a^//xov/o-/xoV), (though both are of the same im- port,) consists in the congratulation of a man upon his consummate prosperity. This kind of praise .differs from the two others, inasmuch as its sub- ject is more comprehensive and extended ; for, as supreme happiness infers the possession of every virtue, so does this division of praise com- prehend the two foregoing : not being confined, like the first, to any particular virtuous habit ; or to any single commendable action, like the second. On the contrary, it deals generally in the whole range of the virtues and rich endow- ments of the miud *. I * This description of eulogy, from its universal tenour, may be with propriety termed panegyric* TRANSLATOR. IO6 A DISSERTATION ) Affinity Of DEMONSTRATIVE to DELIBERATIVE RHETORIC. Upon the heads of counsel and praise we may make one observation, to prove the conformity of both. For the matter which the orator advances as the subject of advice, may become, by a trivial alteration in the fashion of his discourse, equally the subject of praise. Hence it follows, that once possessing a knowledge of what is necessary to be done for the acquirement of praise, and of the qualities appropriate thereto, we shall very east)} torm precepts upon every subject connected \vith it. by a mere variation of phraseology. For example : if we were to say thus : " We should never avail ourselves of, or de- rive advantage from, the goods of fortune, but from our virtue alone, and from those goods which properly appertain to us" The sentence thus expressed is a precept of pure counsel ; but by the slightest change it may be rendered into one of eulogy ; as thus : " Never did that man derive advantage from the favours of fortune; and when he did avail himself of any thing, it was of his own merits and virtues." Whenever, then, we praise a person, we should attend well to the counsel we would give him, when inciting him to the undertaking of UPON RHETORIC. 107 a distinguished action; and, on the other hand, when we would give counsel, we should particu- larly apply our judgment to, and examine the nature of, those actions which really merit praise. The expression in both cases must of necessity be different ; that of censure being prohibitive, while that of praise is not so. . Of Amplification. In the use of this there is no inconsiderable address. It consists in enlarging, by additional circumstances, and consequently giving to an action a considerable appearance : as we might say of a certain agent, that he was either the first, or only person, who ever attempted a certain enterprise ; or we might show that he executed it with very trifling assistance ; or that no other person ever signalized himself more in that particular : for these circumstances being remarkably glorious, deserve particular praise. The time and occasion, as heretofore ob- served, will also contribute to increase the value of an action. The praise of a person may likewise be amplified, by showing his repeated successes in similar enterprises : for, besides the greater admiration of his present achievement, it will also serve to prove, that it was not by hazard, but by his virtue and skill alone, that he succeeded. I08 A DISSERTATION It will also be of advantage to remark, whe- ther any one of these things which are done for the purpose of creating emulation and inciting to illustrious deeds, has been invented and es- tablished for the peculiar purpose of honouring him who is the theme of our commendation ; or whether he be the first on whom public eulo- gtums have been pronounced, as was the case with Hippolochus : or, in fine, whether his glory could compete with that of Harmodius and Aris- togiton, who were the first persons to whom the Athenians erected statues in public places. Such an investigation will not only serve to embellish an action, and set it off to greater advantage in respect to the person whom we praise ; but it may also serve to a contrary effect : namely, to deform the life and actions of him who is the, subject of our censure. Address in frmiing a Person ivho has done nothing praiseworthy. If it so happen that the man whom we intend to panegyrize has done nothing which can fur-? nish matter of favourable report, in this case, re- course must be had to parallels and a comparison of others with him. In this mode of address, Isocrales, who neither practised at the bar, nor studied judiciary rhetoric, has frequently indulged. With regard to comparisons, in this place, it must be observed, that the persons whom we UPON RHETORIC. log select should be illustrious and of high repute ; for nothing can aggrandize a man's praise more than by showing that he possesses more brilliant qualities, and has achieved more virtuous actions, even than those who, in the world's estimation, have been accounted eminently virtuous. But, in proof of the utility which praise derives from, amplification, we need only affirm that eulogy loves excess, and searches but for what is extra- ordinary and supremely excellent. As has been before remarked, that excellence, which pro- ceeds to a commendable excess, is to be ranked among honourable things. If the person whom we praise is not of sufficient distinction to be compared with certain others who are illustrious, we must look elsewhere for subjects of compa- rison. In whatever manner a man rises above another, his elevation, or degree of eminence, is a testimony of his merit. Of Things particular to each of the three rhetorical Divisions. Summarily speaking upon each of the two rhetorical parts already gone through, and the one remaining to be discussed, we may remark, that to none is amplification more necessary or appropriate than to the demons f rathe ; for this reason : that the panegyrist always takes for his subject, things which arc really true, and are so recognised by the world ; his only HO A DISSERTATION occupation then is to embellish and add lustre to actions of such a description. Examples are more befitting the deliberative part of rhetoric, because the judgments which we form in all our designs of enterprise are founded upon that conjecture which the past gives of the future, and upon the relation be- tween what has been done, and what it is pos- sible to do. Entliymems suit the judiciary rhetorician best, because, in subjects of this kind, he treats of matter of fact, and pronounces judgment upon what has passed : matters wherewith people are not always conversant, and which may be called in question ; he therefore should assign par- ticular reasons in proof of the thing done, and why it was so. No other precepts or positions of topic, or address, are, I imagine, requisite, beyond what have already been given, respecting eulogy and its opposite. All our canons oi position have this benefit, that as the series go by contraries, each one gives a knowledge of that which is contrary to itself, at the same moment in which it is itself disco- vered. Whatever has been said respecting matter of praise, will apply, by contraries, to matter of censure. VPON RHETORIC. Ill CHAP. X. JUDICIARY RHETORIC. Of Injuries or Wrongs. The subjects of which we now are to treat, ro late to accusation and defence ; it is, therefore, necessary to know the amount and quality of those topics, whence judiciary rhetoric derives its arguments. But it is of previous importance to be acquainted with the three following points : 1. The nature and number of those things which incite men to be mutually noxious. 2. What persons are so disposed, and the nature of such dispositions. 3. On what persons the injurious fasten, and the state necessary to their making impressions. These three points we shall endeavour to illus- trate, after we have defined what is meant by " doing a man an injury." We are to understand that it arises out of " one man's voluntarily hurting another con- trary to the prohibition of law." But of law there are two kinds, one particular, the other common. Particular laws I call such as are written, and serve as a rule to any state ; and I call those common, which are not written, and which seem to have been instituted with the common consent of all states. As to voluntary 112 A DISSERTATION action, every man acts so who is not com- pelled to, and who is thoroughly acquainted with, what he does. Not, however, that every vo- luntary act proceeds from deliberate purpose and design ; but, whatever is deliberately and de- signedly done, is also done voluntarily, and with a knew iul^e of the cause ; for it is impossible that a man should be ignorant of what he proposes and determines to do. But in order to know the reason why men are given to the commission of wrongs contrary to what; is enjoined by law, we must observe, that the inclination arises out of two causes, vice 01 passion. For it is remarked, that, generally speaking of vicious persons, whether their vices be many, or whether they be ruled but by one, they are never malicious nor injurious, but in matters touching their pre- dominant vice. Thus the avaricious man is given to do wrong merely for the sake of money ; the deliiucJiee, through *he hope of enjoying some pleasure ; the indolent, to the indulgence of his ease; the coward, in order to avoid danger; the ambitious man, from the expectation of honour; the choleric man acts wrong in the transports of anger; the man fond of conquest, only in his pursuit of victory ; the vindictive, for the accomplishment of his revenge; ihewitkss is only injnr ous by his folly and stupidity, in net discerning the difference between justice and injustice, and his incessant liability to be deceived UPON RHETORIC. 11$ on that account : in fine, the man of effrontery and impudence does wrong because he is lost to shame, and laughs at reputation. So it is with regard to all other vices, and those who practise them ; each man being led away by his own par- ticular vice. This will be treated of more at large when we come to consider the passions. It remains to show, for what reason, and with what disposition of mind, people are addicted to do wrong, and the persons on whom the inju- rious generally fix. Of human Actions and their Causes. We shall here, in the first place, point out those things, a desire to possess or to avoid which, induces an endeavour to hurt, or do injury to our neighbour. The advocate for the accusation should prin- cipally direct his attention to this point ; namely : What proportion of those things we have just spoken of, and which tempt and induce men to the commission of wrong, confers an advantage on the one party over the other. On the other hand, the advocate for the defence should, with respect to his client, examine, to the end of justification, how far remote, even from suspi- cion, he was upon such matters. In the next place, it is to be noticed, " that, absolutely speak" ingi there is nothing which men will not do ;" and in this general circle of their extent of action, ont H 114 A DISSERTATION fart flares from self -agency ; the other, from extra* neons impulse. In the latter rank of action, \ve may make a division, first, into actions of chance, and, secondly, into those of necessity. Of things done from necessity, there are, like- wise, two descriptions : the one voluntary, the other natural. So that all the acts of man extra- neous of self-agency, may be referred to three prin- cipal causes ; hazard, nature, and constraint. As to those things wherein man is his own agent, independently, they may be classed under four species ; for some men act habitually, others from inclination and the call of appetite. Of appetite again there are two kinds ; one sen- sual, the other rational: to either of these mankind is differently attached. Rational appetite is no- thing more than will; it may be defined, " The desire of good controlled and regulated by reason ;" for no man wills that which is not his good. Sensual appetite recognises two different prin- ciples of stimulatton, anger and concupiscence. Now, in the investigation of all our actions, we shall find them attributable to seven causes, namely, to Hazard, Constraint,. Nature, Habit, Reason, Anger, and Concupiscence. UPON RHETORIC. 11$ It would be superfluous to enter into a more detailed distinction of causes ; such, for instance, as a man's particular habits, particular age, &c. ft is a certain fact, however, that we should not calculate the anger or disposition to pleasure which is observable in young persons, upon the mere grounds of their youth, but upon the ebul- lition of their passion, and the unbridled sallies of their lusts. So it is in the case of a rich and a poor man. We should not lay the charge of culpability in either, to the circumstance of wealth in the one, or of poverty in the other; and, though it may be said that the poor frequently wish passionately for money, on no other ac- count than to answer their necessities ; and that the rich form an infinite number of vain desires, and go in search of unnecessary pleasures, merely because they possess abundant means of com- pleting their wishes : yet, it does not follow from this, that such desires in one party are simply the effects of their wealth, nor, in the other, of their poverty ; but, in both cases, that desire is to be referred to concupiscence. In like manner we may affirm of the just and unjust ; and, generally speaking* of all those whom we consider to act from certain varied habits of the same quality ; for, the acts of such persons can be referred to no other causes than those already observed, as they must always be the effects either of some reasonable persuasion, or H 1 6- A DISSERTATION some impelling passion. The only difference lies in this, that one class of agents possess more commendable manners and passions, than the other. In truth, I agree that every habit being always in conformity with its nature as to its accompaniments and consequences, it com- monly happens, that certain particular actions are incidental to a man, merely from his having contracted that certain habit. For example : the man who is temperate, cannot, in the first instance, possess certain honest desires, nor be persuaded of the sentiments which it is necessary for him to entertain respecting the pleasures of life, but because he is temperate. On the con- trary, that a debauchee indulges such and such dishonest sentiments and desires, merely because he is debauched. These distinctions are too trivial, however, to merit further notice. What we have to examine, in the next place, is, what customarily happens to certain descrip- tions of persons, and persons of certain qua- lities. And this more particularly, because the difference of constitution in men does not always infer variety in their sentiments or manners. For example : it is not because a man is black or white, tall or dwavfish, that he should be influenced by a particular manner or passion ; but the point to be considered is, whether he be old or young, good or bad ; in a word, our research should extend to those things which, UPON RHETORIC. .11-7 by their fortuitous occurrence, cause a person commonly to alter his habits and sentiments: such, for instance, as the case of a person ima- gining to himself that he is rich or poor, happy or miserable. This, however, is not a fit place for entering into a discussion of such subjects. We shall now finish what remains to be said with regard to the explanation of the principles and causes of human actions. In the first place, then, fortune or chance is as- signed as the origin of any thing, either when the producing cause is purely unfixed and inde- terminate- when the intent or design of action is not apparent when the manner of its event is not conformable with general nor ordinary oc- currence or, finally, when it is not founded upon any fixed rule or order. These conditions, indeed, have heretofore been included in our definition of fortune and chance. In the second place, a thing is originated by nature when it contains within it the principle of its production, which must also observe a certain order. It matters not, whether the occurrence of the thing be of necessity, or in compliance with what has been usual, since it can only happen in one way, let (hat way be what it will. As to the extraordinary effects, of nature, in apparently violating its own rules, or thwarting its own designs, we cannot here make any pur- H 3 IlS A DISSERTATION ticular inquiry ; neither can we say, whether the production of such effects be strictly adhe- rent to the design of nature, or attributable to some different cause ; for, after all, it might be said, that such effects were the mere work of fortune and chance. Wi:h respect to violence and constraint, it may be held, that an act is performed under their influence, when the agent acts against the dic- tates of his own opinion and inclination. A man acts from habit, when he does any thirtg merely on the grounds of his having frequently done so before. Reason is to be considered the source of action, when a thing is done with the sole intent of acquiring some one of those goods which we have observed to be attended with apparent profit and advantage ; and this, whether the pretension of the agent be confined to the possession of one particular good, which he lays down as his ex- clusive aim and object, or whether he considers that only in the light of a mean towards attain- ing some other thing which is of greater import- ance. This condition must, however, be ob- served, that the agent act only with the design of deriving advantage from the object of his agency. We must, in this place, take particular care to avoid confounding, with such a prin- ciple, what is daily to be observed among de- bauchees, whose undertakings frequently as- UPON RHETORIC. I ' , r sume the appearance of gain and advantage, while, in fact, their intention, at the moment, i* no other than that of subsequently enjoying more at their ease, and creating a more prc*- tracted debauch in, those pleasures to which they are attached. As to matters connected with anger and ani- mosity, they may simply be referred to the con- sideration of revenge, between which and chas- tisement there is an important difference. The latter is always supposed to be with a view to the good of the person corrected ; while revenge has for its object only the satisfaction of the person who desires it. In our treatise on the passions, we shall more amply discuss the nature and origin of anger. Finally, concupiscence is the motive of action in every thing which possesses the apparent ca- pacity of pleasure. Under this head I wish to comprize whatever is done from usage and habit. Custom has the property of influencing, by a pleasant zest, that which, without it would be unpleasant. To cut this matter short, it is cer- tain, that there is nothing, wherein a man him- self is the agent, which is not either really or apparently good and useful, and equally agreeallc^ either effectually or in appearance. Besides, since every thing done by self-agency is volun- tary, and the reverse is constrained, it is certain,, with respect to the agents, that their objects of H 4 120 A DISSERTATION action contain nothing but what is really or speciously useful or agreeable. In the catalogue of good and advantages, I not only class every deliverance from evil, real or apparent, but also the commutation of a greater for a lesser evil, since such an exchange is naturally desirable. In the enumeration of things which are agreeable I reckon the deliverance from what is troublesome and annoying^ whether real or specious, and, upon the same grounds, the exchange of one thing more unpleasant, for another which is less so. Thus, since utility or pleasure are the sti- mulants to all a man's actions, for that reason the orator should be acquainted with the number and quality of those things which have any con- nexion with either. We have already spoken of things which are useful, w r e shall now come to treat of those which are agreeable and productive of pleasure. It is necessary, as we are on the subject, here to warn the student against adhering too narrowly to the definitions we have given, since it is of trivial import to rhetoric whether they be more precise than is requisite, to prevent their being obscure. RHETORIC, 121 CHAP. IX. Of Th'wgs conducive to PLEASURE. Taking it for granted that pleasure is a certain, sudden emotion, or change in the mind, which is sensible to our perceptions, and conformable to the state required by the demands of our nature, and that pain is the opposite to this, it follows : 1. That every thing capable of producing the state first described must be agreeable ; while every thing destructive of it, or occasioning its opposite, must be disagreeable. 2. That it is for the most part agreeable to perceive ourselves arrived at that condition which is requisite to our nature, particularly if the attainment be as perfect as it is possible to be. 3. All manner of customs are agreeable, since custom is in some measure identified with nature ; and nothing bears so strong a resemblance to the latter as the former. Add to this, that there is but a short interval between what is very fre- quently, and that which is invariably done. Custom is the regent of the one, and Nature of the other. 4. Every thing done without constraint is agreeable ; for violence is the enemy of nature, On this account, erery occasion of action which * 122 A DISSERTATION arises from necessity is disagreeable. Evenus, the poet, has well remarked, that, " From force an inconvenience ever springs." This being the case, we should account as troubles all inquietude, care, study, and heavy applications of the mind ; such actions being ever attended with constraint, if they be not cus- tomary. Habit alone can reconcile and soften them. 5. The opposites of those violent actions just mentioned are productive of pleasure; for in- stance : indolence, laziness, negligence, amuse- ment, rest, sleep, &c. ; such things being com- pletely emancipated from constraint. 6. There is pleasure in every thing to which our appetites or desires have a tendency ; for desire is but an inclination to the enjoyment of whatever is agreeable. We have already re- marked upon the two species of appetite in man, reasonable and sensual. By the latter I un- derstand whatever a man desires without reflec- tion or examination. This desire is properly termed natural, and relates but to the satisfac- tion of onr corporal necessities. Such, for in? stance, are fatnger and thirst-, which are given to the body for the purpose of inciting it towards the aliments necessary to the support of its ex- istence ; in like manner with all other desires respecting nourishment in particular. Such alsa UPON RHETORIC. 12,3 are the desires which tend to love and good living; in fine, all those which flatter the various senses of touch, taste, &c. &c. By reasonable appetite I mean that which leads to the desire of a thing, only because we are persuaded that it is good ; for there are many things which we would never desire either to see or possess, if we did not hear them esteemed and cried up, at the same time that we verily be- lieve them worthy of our possession. Now, since pleasure consists in feeling ourselves moved and affected inwardly by some passion, and our imagination, if well considered, is a feeble and imperfect draught of that feeling : in a word, since it is neither possible to hope for, nor remember any thing, without forming, at the same time, in our imagination, the idea or image of the thing hoped for or remembered., it neces- sarily follows, 7. That there must be great pleasure in the perfect remembrance of a thing, or the high expectation of possessing it ; for, according to what we have just said, this will be, in a manner, enjoyment and present possession of the thing with regard to our senses. So that it is neces- sary that we receive pleasure in some one of the three following ways : First, by having a thing really present to, and in the real enjoyment of our senses ; secondly, by the remembrance of previous enjoyment -, and, thirdly, by our hopes 124 A DISSERTATION of one day possessing and enjoying it. With respect to time, enjoyment regards the present, memory the past, and hope the future. Memory represents nothing which is not ca- pable of bestowing pleasure; for it not only conduces thereto, by recalling the image of things which were agreeable at the period of their enjoyment, but also by representing things of a contrary nature, which it was formerly irk- some to endure. In the latter case, there will be increased pleasure, if the person who employs his memory have made a transition from pa^st labours and misfortunes to present glory and repose. This it was which caused Euripides to say, " Sweet is the mem'ry of a peril past." And again in Homer, . " How pleasing, when our recollection strays Along the path of travers'd, adverse davs ! And yet more pleasing, if, to gain the shore, Ourselves have steer'd the helm, have plied the oar !" ODYSSEY \v. The reason is obvious : namely, the existence of pleasure in the exemption from pain. As to hope, we can never employ it, without producing pleasure at the same time, upon any thing which seems either promising enjoyment by its presence, likely to confer some great ad- vantage, or which seems simply useful without UPON RHETORIC. 125 inconvenience. In fine, every thing which by its presence creates joy, commonly brings pleasure to those who expect its possession, or recollect .. its enjoyment. 8. There is even a considerable pleasure in anger ; as Homer, speaking of this passion, has justly observed : *' No honey e'er from any ilow'r 's exprest, Mure sweet than anger in the human breast." ILIAD xviiu For we never put ourselves in a passion with persons on whom it is apparently impossible to be avenged ; nor with those who have, beyond comparison, more credit and influence than ourselves: or, if we should happen to do so, it will be in less numerous instances than with others. 9. The greater part of our desires arc accom- panied by pleasure: for whether it flow from the recollected enjoyment of an object which we desire, or the hope of speedily enjoying it, such a state will always induce an indescribable plea- sure. For example : the person who has suf- fered under thirst during a fever, will enjoy con- siderable delight from remembering that he sa- tisfied his thirst on that occasion, or from the hope of an equal gratification upon a similar case of necessity. The same may be remarked 120 A BISSERTATIQ.V of persons passionately enamoured, who feel a constant source of enjoyment in conversing upon the object of their flame; in thinking of, writing to, or in any other thing which has a reference to that object. In all those cases, the circumstance which constitutes the principal enjoyment, is that, while the object is present to their memory, it seems really to be with them in substance. This is the principal criterion for judging the com- mencement of love's empire over the mind, not only when we wish to dwell continually wiih the person whom we love, but vvhen our affec- tion survives absence, and we cannot avoid turn- ing our thoughts towards the object, and when distance afflicts us 3 because it removes us from her sight. 10. Pleasure will exist even amid Waitings, sighs, and grief. For, if sadness on one hand sensibly depresses us, by the irreparable loss of one whom we lament ; on the other, it gives pleasure and consolation, to represent to ourselves that person, such as he was, in all his actions, and as if he were present before our eyes. Ho- mer illustrates this in his divine poem : " He spoke ; and his discourse made sorrow dear, Gave charms to the sigh, and pleasure to the tear." ILIAD xxiii. n. Revenge is sweet; since by as much as it UPON RHETORIC. is disagreeable to be deprived of the ability to compass our wishes, by so much it is the more pleasing to perceive their surcess. But, if we be enraged with any person, and lose an opportu- nity of revenge, it is extremely annoying; while, on the contrary, \ve are generally appeased even by the most distant expectation of vengeance. 12. Victory has the charm of pleasure, not only with those who love conquest, but with every description of men, since it supposes that pre emi- nence to which all men arc so much attached, either more or less. 13. All games and diversions which give rise to contests between parties, are agreeable: and this without distinction, whether the lists be formed between musicians, wrestlers, or literati j the object and conclusion of all being victory. 14. The same may be said of games at dice, ball, cheques, &c. 15. Even the most grave and serious games are agreeable ; for though not amusing at first, yet they are conducive to pleasure by custom. Those which bestow immediate pleasure, are the sports of the chase, all methods of entoiling beasts, &c. 1 6. The profession of the bar, and scholastic disputations, arc extremely pleasing to the suc- cessful practitioner in both. 17. Among the things which confer the highest pleasure, are honour and reputation, by reason of the opinion which a man forms within himself, and is persuaded of; namely, that he really is an ho- nest man, and such as the world proclaims him. A man is always more easily led by this opinion of himself, when he reflects that he is eulogized by those who esteem him ; and who, in so do- ing, express the true sentiments of their hearts. For instance, the repute of a man among his neighbours, is preferable to that in a more distant quarter; and the esteem of our familiar acquaint- ances or fellow- citizens, much more desirable than that of strangers and foreigners ; the esteem of the living is superior to that of the dead and, in a word, the regard of persons distinguished for wisdom and prudence, far surpasses that of the unthinking part of mankind. To this we may add, that the greater the number of those who esteem us is, the more preferable is that reputation, because it is apparent, that in the greater number there must be found more chances of the truth than in the lesser one. All descriptions of esteem are not equally con- siderable ; for we do not regard either the honour or reputation which flows to us from a con- temptible source, such as fools or children ; and if any show be made of attending to such a re- UPON RHETORIC. I2Q B . putation, it proceeds from interest, or some other similar motive. 1 8. The possession of a friend is truly agree- able, because there is a pleasure in affection and fondness ; for, show me the drunkard who does not manifest a gladness in beholding his favourite liquor 1 19. There is a pleasure in being loved; for this presupposes to our imagination, that we possess some amiable quality which has attached the per- son to our affections. To be loved, implies a per- sonal, not an interested regard towards us. 20. To be admired is also a thing which is agreeable ; for honour is always the accompani- ment of admiration. 21. Flattery and flatterers are pleasing; for the adulator appears in the double light of an admirer and a friend. az. A frequent repetition of the same actions is productive of pleasure; for, as has been already observed, habit or custom is agreeable. 23. It may, however, be equally asserted, that variety is pleasing ; as every change seems con- formable to the intention of nature, fn fact, to do the same thing always, begets a certain dis- gust at, and testifies an excess in, the habit so contracted. This it was which induced the poet to say : I ^O A DISSERTATION M " Variety in all things has its charms." EURJPID. in OREST. For this reason, every thing which we have not seen for some time, appears the more agreeable when we do see it ; for, besides the variety arising out of contrasted presence and absence, the thing also acquires the quality of being rare. 24. To learn and to admire a thing, is equally pleasing, since it creates a desire to be acquainted with its nature ; every object of our admiration necessarily attracting our ideas of it. The mind is also perfected by learning any thing, and either arrives, or is in progress, by such means, towards that excellence, to which, from its nature, it as- pires. 25. A reciprocity of obligation is attended with pleasure ; for, in the passive part, we acquire the object of our wishes ; and in the active construc- tion of the term, we evince the possession of what is desired by him, whom we would oblige, be- sides manifesting our superiority over him ; two circumstances of ardent desire amongst men. 26. There is a pleasure in remonstrating with onr friend, and correcting his failings. 27. To finish what we have commenced, is both desirable and pleasing. 28. A perfect imitation of any thing is agree- able ; as in works of painting^ sculpture, or po- TPON RHETORIC. etry ; in fine, of any object giving room for imi- tation, however disagreeable it may be in itself. The pleasure arising from a fine imitation does not exactly proceed so much from a consideration of the qualities in the original, as from our own internal reflections. For we are apt to say then, " This copy is so exact a resemblance, that it seems rather the thing itself, than its simple re* presentation." In such cases we always learn something new. 29. Certain reverses of fortune (Tzspezstztoti) and unexpected events, such as we commonly meet with in theatrical representations, are at- tended with pleasure. 30. It is agreeable to reflect that we have been in imminent danger, for such a situation is crea- tive of wonder and surprise. 31. All things similar in their natures and kinds, or between which there is a resemblance, are mutually productive of pleasure, the one to the other. Herein there is an exact conformity to the design of nature. And hence arise the numerous proverbs : * Birds of a feather flock together." 44 Equals please equals." " Every beast seeks and knows his brother beast." ' Like loves like," &c. 32. All men in general, are more or less at- tached to each other ; for there is nothing which I 2 A DISSERTATION possesses the qualities of conformity and resem- blance, more than a person compared with his fellow-man. 33. Men are attached to, and take pleasure in, whatever proceeds from themselves ; such as their works, discourses, or arguments. This will serve to illustrate their love of those who flatter, or profess affection towards them; that they are jealous of, however, and are particularly attached to their offspring ; for nothing can be more properly styled the work of a man than what he has put into the world. 34. A man feels delight in completing a work which another has left imperfect ; the completion giving to him a sort of property in the thing com- pleted, by reason of its having been rendered en- tire through his means. & - 35. There is an infinite pleasure in being ac- counted a wise and prudent man ; inasmuch as authority and command are desirable objects; but which no man is competent to, excepting him who possesses the royal virtues of wisdom and prudence. We may take the definition of wis- dom to be, "A science, which enlightens by the great variety and extent of its knowledge, and which can account for the most curious and ad- mirable effects." 36. Men being extremely desirous of receiv- ing honour, and ambitious of distinction, will not only take a pleasure in resuming the works of UPON RHETORIC. others, and correcting their imperfections, but will also apply themselves to original occupations in matters which they believe will succeed, and be eminent above others. Hereupon, Euripides has well observed in the following verses : " The skilful artist, with his work well pleas'd, Incessant labours, and fresh courage gains; And though by frequent repetitions teas'd, T' outstrip his former self repays his pains." 37. Besides, as we have already shown, that diversion is to be accounted among the number of agreeable things, as well as all relaxations, indulgence in mirth, laughter, &c., we may in- fer, that great pleasure is to be derived from any thing facetious or ridiculous, whether in a man himself, his discourse, or his actions. I have treated of ridicule separately in my Poetics. So far for things which are agreeable. We must take the contraries of all the foregoing positions, if we would discover what is repugnant to plea- sure. We have thus explained the ordinary motives which incite a man to do injury to his neighbour. 134 A DISSERTATION CHAP. XII. Of those Persons who commonly injure other*. The men who are addicted to the commission of injuries are stimulated by either of the follow* ing allurements : 1. When they believe their undertaking prac- ticable, and that they can accomplish it of them- selves. 2. When they think that discovery will not follow the commission. 3. That, when discovered as the authors, they will not be punished for it. 4. And that, even if they be punished, the penalty will not be in proportion to the profit they ha7e derived either to themselves or to those for whom they are interested. The matter of possibility, and its contrary, we shall not now discuss, as it regards, all the parts of rhetoric in common. Of those ivtiG promise themselves Impunity . Among the persons who embark in the desigo to injure others, those in particular hope for im- punity who either possess eloquence, enterprise, or execution ; those who have acquired great worldly experience, by having seen or had the - r UPON RHETORIC. management of extensive concerns ; or, finally, those who are rich in friends or money. But a man will especially promise himself impunity, if he perceive himself fortified by all the advan- tages we have recited, or at least by some friend or associate, or even by the dependents of cither. By such means a man may not only accomplish his evil design, but also avoid discovery and punishment. Men are also induced to look for impunity when they are leagued in friendship with the persons whom they intend to injure, or with the judges before whom they must appear. Nothing is more practicable than to injure a friend, by reason of his having no distrust, of his being more easily reconciled, and of his scarcely thinking on legal prosecution. With respect to jiulges, it is certain- that they will al- ways favour their friends in either of two ways, by acquittal altogether, or by a slight and di- minished punishment. Of those is^Jio expect to avoid Discovery. In this class of persons, may be ranked, all, whose exterior appearance, if we were to judge by it, affords a presumptive contradiction to the charge which may be made against them. Let us suppose the instance of a man, apparently of very feeble bodily powers, having beaten ano- i 4 A DISSERTATION ther, who, to all appearance, was much stronger : or, let us put the case of a man, from the dregs of society, favoured by the enjoyment of a lady of quality ; or, the same, with respect to an extremely deformed man, and a beautiful woman. If a wicked man take unlawful and secret possession of things which are public and exposed to the view of many people, he en- tertains strong hopes of not being detected ; be- cause the owner rested upon his confident secu- rity which originated in his imagining no one so hardy as even to think of such an action. A person also trusts to his not being discovered, when the crime which he commits is of that enormous nature, as to puzzle the understand- ing in its investigation whether it was ever before committed ; being a thing unthought of, and therefore unprovided for. Man seldom makes other preparations against injury, than he does against disease ; neither fearing, nor endeavouring to avoid, that which he has not hitherto experienced. There are two additional cases opposite to each other, which Jay the foundation of security from detection, when the apprehending party either has no ene- mies, or when he is known to have a great num- ber. In the first instance, the facility arises out of the general trust reposed in him ; and the UPON RHETORIC. 137 second reason will establish a difficulty in the minds of others, upon the risk of his attempting an attack on persons incessantly vigilant over his actions and movements. This last consideration would afford a strong plea in his defence, viz. That an insuperable barrier opposed the completion of his design, if he had any, as he was more liable to be suspected than any other person. Finally, we may take it for granted, that all those who are able to con- ceal, evade, or transform the nature and shape of the injury which they have committed, or who have it in their power to accomplish it with promptitude, entertain the hope of not being dis- covered. Of these who have no j4pprchensio?is of Punishment. There are many, who, though assured of de- tection and the pursuit of justice, are not the less deterred from doing wrong. Their expecta- tion hinges either upon the possibility of their escape, by not coming within the pale of certain jurisdictions, by the procrastination of the process, or by the corrupt favour of the judge. There are others again, who are perfectly aware that their condemnation is inevitable ; yet, because they know that the result will be nothing 138 A Dl more than making amends for their lauit by a fine, give themselves little trouble about it ; for instance, when they are acquainted with the means of getting the fine taken off, or not paying it ; when they obtain long credit for its payment ; or when their poverty is so extreme as to leave them nothing to lose. Others stand in no apprehension of being con- demned for the injuries they commit, if their object holds forth the promise of an assured and speedy profit, or some important advantage ; as also, even though condemned, if they can ex- tricate themselves vvilh inconsiderable difficulty, or none at all ; or, in the case of reparation by costs, if the period of satisfying them shall ap- pear to be distant. The same want of apprehension will arise> whenever the punishment attached, however great, cannot compete with the advantage de- rived by the offender from his criminal acquisi- tion of some considerable object. Of this na- ture is the advantage which tyranny holds up to such persons as are desirous of becoming masters of the state. Another description of fearless offenders is to be met among those who find some gain in their criminal pursuits, and who, with regard to the scale of punishment, expect their escape with an affront or trivial retaliation. UPON RHETORIC. 139 Upon the same grounds, those commit of- fences, whose crimes import some esteem, or produce them a partial honour. This might happen in a case parallel to that of Zcno ; who avenged his parents' death ; and yet the penal retribution of his offence could not exceed a fine, or other mode of amends, mere exile, and such- like punishment. It is certain, that, in cases of this kind, offenders will not be warped from their evil designs. There is, however, a dis- tinction between the first class of criminal agents and the latter ; those being worthy some com- mendation from the particular manner and mo- tive, while the others merit punishment. Others, again, will voluntarily hazard the commission of wrong, who, in former courses of it, have escaped being taken in the fact, disco- vered, or punished ; as will those who have fre- quently missed their aim in such pursuits; for \\ happens in this case as in war, that the van- quished renew the trial of their fortune, by re- turning to the charge. Another description of persons criminally har- dened may be met with in such as hope for the present enjoyment of certain pleasure, contrasted with future and uncertain punishment : for in- slance, the unchaste and the debauched, whose vices are in respect to things to which they are borne by all the agreeable passions, and the 140 A DISSERTATION disorders of concupiscence. There are many, however, who act contrary to this latter class; preferring the previous endurance of some pain or loss, in the prospect of establishing a future and assured enjoyment of some pleasure which will be considerable in its duration. This is the case with such as possess prudence, and are not im- pelled by a slavish devotion to their pleasures. Others again will care little whether they be known as the agents of wrong, provided it ap- pears as if they acted so from misfortune or ne- cessity, from the first transport of an ungovern- able impulse, from custom, or, in a word, if they seem rather to have erred than wilfully of- fended. In the same number may be comprised those, who apprehend the contrary of rigour from the benignity of their judges, and also the poorer orders of society. There are two descriptions of poor in the world : one, poor in regard to things necessary for the maintenance of life, such as mendicants; and the other, poor in regard to superfluities, as is the case with the generality of the persons usually denominated rich. Finally, those persons will not be deterred from doing wrong, who are in good repute with mankind ; neither, on the contrary, will those who have already lost their reputation ; for, with UPON RHETORIC. 14 respect to the former, their offences would not be credited; and it would-be impossible to de- preciate the latter any further. So far of the agents in injury : let us now see who are . The Persons commonly made Objects for the Commission of Wrongs. The depraved part of mankind generally at- tack those who possess what they themselves have not, and of which they stand in need, either as necessaries of life, superfluities, or merely as objects of enjoyment and pleasure. Their machinations equally extend to neighbours and foreigners : to the former, because their blow is struck with greater facility ; to the latter, by reason of retribution being more tardy, and because it will require more time to do them right for the injury they sustain. An instance occurs, in the conduct of those who became convoys to the Carthaginian traders, in order to plunder them. Others are objects of injury and wrong, by being unguardedly negligent, or so simple as to give credit to whatever others im- pose on them : in such cases, the criminal agent has little occasion to imagine that he will be dis- covered. The injurious man will also fasten on those who are naturally indolent, and desirous A DISSERTATION of living at ease ; for such persons are not easily disposed to embarrass themselves in a judiciary process, by reason of its tediousness, and that it requires activity to accomplish its object. It is the same with those who are of modest de- meanour, and who, possessing the recommend- ation of honour, would be ashamed to appear in judgment, or plead upon trivial causes or unimportant interests. Another class of persons likely to become the victims of injury, are those whom others have already attacked, or frequently offended, without any attempt on their part to follow it up by re- tribution, those being within the meaning of the proverb, " The prey of the My sums" Those also are probable subjects for the infliction of injuries, who have never before received any, as well as those who have been frequently injured ; because neither party hold themselves on their guard; the latter supposing no one inclined to visit them with further wrongs, and the former, from inexperienced self-security. A man may equally determine upon injuring those who have been brought to justice for se- veral crimes, and against whom it is conse- quently easy to obtain a yerdict ; such persons not venturing in general to complain, either from the fears they entertain of the judge, or from ' UPON" RHETORIC. 143 their being so situated as to preclude their ob- taining any credit. The same may be said of those who have the misfortune to be generally hated or envied. We commonly find those persons also liable to attacks, against whom others have any pretext or specious reason for so doing, from a research cither into the history of their ancestors, or re^ viving feuds long buried in oblivion. It matters not whether the complaint attaches to themselves, or to any of their friends ; for instance, either in -heing so circumstanced as to receive a present injury, or from having frequently received one, either in their own persons, or in those of their friends, or such person whose interests they adopt: for, as the proverb very justly remarks, " Malice never wants pretence." Friends and foes, indifferently, become objects of injury; the former from the facility, and the latter from the gratification, of attacking them. The same observation will apply to those who have no friends, and to others neither possessing eloquence nor talents of execution. Such per- sons will either fail in resolution, to pursue with justice those who injure them, or, even if they do not, they would the more easily be brought to an accommodation, or to an unsuccessful issue upon tl^eir pica. Those also will be liable to the attacks of in- - 144 A DISSERTATION jury who cannot remain till the termination of their suit in the same place; or until they be paid their .damages, or reimbursed in costs. Of this description are strangers in general, and persons deriving subsistence from their manual labour. With such as these, it is easy to com- pound matters to their satisfaction. Men will voluntarily attack those who have committed many wrong actions in their life, or who have caused the same injury to others which is meditated against themselves ; because it seems but an act of justice to treat the wicked in the same manner in which they have treated others : as in the case of persons notoriously addicted to quarrelling with and beating others, being at last well beaten themselves. Men are equally disposed to do those an injury, from whom, on other occasions, they have received some cause of displeasure ; who intended it, or prepared and did every thing in their power to execute it. The commission of injury against such persons is not only attended with pleasure, but also with honour to the agent, as he will merely seem to have done an act of justice. An equal occasion of offering injuries will arise out of the assurance that the attack upon others is grateful and pleasing to our friends, those whom we love or esteem, to our masters, in a . UPON RHETORIC. 145 word, to all those upon whom we depend, or to whom we look for a favour. Those also are subject to injury, who have formerly been accused of any crime, or whose friendship has been renounced : witness the con- duct of Calipfus towards Dion *. And, in this case, what adds to the boldness of the person who attacks, is the semblance of justice on his side. The same remark will apply to those, upon whom it is known that others are in readiness to make an attack if they be not anticipated ; in this case there is no room for a man to de- liberate whether he shall commit the injury or not. Upon this ground it was, that JEnesidemus sent presents to Gelon, to prevent him from the reduction of certain states, which it was his own intention to subdue. Finally, it is probable that one person will injure another, when the commission of a single wrong may put him afterwards in a con- dition to do considerable good ; because it will then be easy to remedy the antecedent evil, and to recompense the loss sustained. Hence, Jason the Thessalian was accustomed to say, " That it is sometimes necessary to do a little * See Plutarch's Life of Dion. I4f6 A DISSERTATION evil, in order to be in a condition to do much goodf." Of the different Species of Injustice. The injurious man generally suffers himself to be carried away by that stream of injustice which he finds most prevalent with the majority, or the whole of mankind, upon the persuasion of more easily finding favour with those whom he has injured. Mankind particularly seek to do wrong in such matters as are easy of con- cealment ; these are of various kinds : some are consumable in a short time, such as articles of food; others are easily disguised by mould- ing them into a new shape, by a change of colour, or by their intermixture; others may be withdrawn into different places, as is every thing easily portable, or occupying little space ; and others again are of such a nature, that, if the person illegally possessing himself of them, previously have many similar io his possession, the latter will not easily be distinguished from the former. A person commits an injury in those tilings f Jason's maxim seems to bethe basis of the Jtsuits* famous principle, that " evil may be done for the production of good." TRANSLATOR. UPON RHETORIC. 147 which he knows it is shameful to say even to the persons on whom the injury is committed; as when he abuses the reputation of another's wife; or when the person injvi red, or his chil- dren, have heen forced to yield to the brutality of the defamer. In short, it is possible to com- mit an injury, and do a wrong, in such things as another cannot institute a process for without the imputation of chicanery, and, consequently, of raising an outcry against himself; or by reason of their being unimportant or venial offences. This is very nearly as much as can be said upon the subject, whether with regard to the agents, means, or objects of injury ; or with respect to the motives and reasons which incite to the perpetration of evil designs. CHAP. XIII. Of just and unjust Actions. We shall now examine wherein consist the terms of right and wrong; and what ought to pass among men for just and unjust. To begin then by an hypothesis upon a former remark : Whatever there is either lawful or the reverse K 2 148 A DISSERTATION among mankind, is always considered as such with relation to two sorts of laws, and two de- scriptions of persons*. In the first place, there are two sorts of laws : the one particular, and the other common. Those laws I call particular which serve as rules to a state, and which every people imposes on itself. These are again divided into written and traditionary laws. . By common laws are meant those which the light of reason has discovered to us, and which seem to be dictated by nature herself; for there is no one who will not concede that there is a something which mankind in general are con- jecturally agreed upon, and naturally recognise as just or unjust, even though there were never a state of society among them, and they had yet to compose one for the first time. Antigone seems as though she would inculcate this senti- ment in Sophocles, when she maintains, " That justice ordained the interment of her brother's * " Wrongs are divided into two sorts or species, private and public wrongs. The former are, an infringement or priva- tion of the private or civil rights belonging to individuals, consi- dered as individuals, and are therefrom frequently termed tivil injuries. The latter are a breach and violation of public rights and duties, which affect the whole community, con- sidered as a community, and are distinguished by the harsher appellation of crimes and misdemeanors." BLACKSTONE'S Commentaries. UPON RHETORIC. 149 (Polyrrices) body, notwithstanding any com- mand or prohibition to the contrary, issued by the king; for it is," said she, " an action of natural justice, whose authority is paramount to the laws, and which cannot be absolutely sub- mitted to the will of man. v These are the words of the poet: " It is a duty pious to discharge *, Just, at all periods, with the world at large : Not of the present dny, nor present clime, And in its birth unknown, because unknown to time." Empedqcles confirms this truth in that passage wherein he proves that it is not allowable to deprive brute animals of life, because it is contrary to natural justice, and natural law; as, in fact, it cannot be said that it is per- missible for one to do \\hat it is not so for another. This sentiment of the philosopher is thus conveyed : " An universal right this point defends, "\ A right obtaining far as air extends, > And bounded only by the term where light or darkness ends.*' j The same sentiments are expressed in the Ora- tion of Alcidamas, entitled, " The Messenian Oration." * " With flout sacrilege a grave I stole, &c." YOUNG'S Night Thought* K 1 A DISSERTATION In the second place, with regard to persons, actions may be considered in two ways : for, every thing which it is either necessary to do, or not to do, is never considered so, but in regard to two circumstances, either the public interest and ag- gregate numbers of one society, or, simply, an individual of that society. Upon this point it is necessary to establish as a maxim, that every thing which is done either justly or unjustly in the world, happens but in two ways, either with relation to one in particular, or to all in general. Thus, if one man beat another, or commit an adultery, in such cases, no doubt, he injures the individual only; but if he refuse to go into the field upon a pressing occasion of war, or if he be a deserter, then he commits a crime against the state, and an offence against the public weal. It being taken for granted, that, of all the un- just acts which may be committed, some regard the public, and others one or several individuals ; before we enter into further explanation thereon, we shall recite wherein injustice consists, and what is meant by receiving an injury. To receive an injury, properly means, the being offended, and the suffering of something unjust from another, who makes a wilful and deliberate attack. For, as was already observed, every unjust ac- tion is always wilful on the part of the agent. Now, since it is necessary, that those on whom UPON RHETORIC. 15! aii injury has been committed, should not only be offended, and receive some wrong, but also that it should happen in despite of, and against their will, it is easy to distinguish what things may be noxious and offensive ; for, not being content with having enumerated those things which are good or bad, we have shown in what wilful ac- tion consists ; and that nothing but such an action happens with the knowledge of its cause. In like manner it is shown, that every crime regards either the public or an individual \ and that it is the consequence either of ignorant, or of com- pulsive transgression, or, on the contrary, the effect of wilful action and thorough knowledge ; with one difference, however, in respect to this latter description of agency, that some persons act in cold blood and deliberately, while others do so only in the transports of anger, and the excess of passion. With respect to actions dic- tated by glory we shall speak in the treatise upon the passions. As to offences designedly com- mitted, and even the knowledge of that spirit which incites to their commission, we apprehend that sufficient light has been thrown on the sub- ject. It frequently happens that one will avow hav- ing committed a certain action, yet will not as- sent to the name whereby it is qualified, nor to the entire circumstances attendant on it. For example : a person will confess that he hay taktn K 4 a certain thing , but yet he ivi/l not allow it to be & theft. Another will grant that he struck the first blow in a quarrel, but will assert that he was warrantable in so doing. A man may concede that he lay with a certain woman, but will deny that it was committing adultery. That he has plundered, yet has not committed sacrilege, since the articles were neither sacred nor dedicated to the Gods. That he trespassed beyond his boundaries, and tilled beyond the legal limits of his own farm ; but yet that he had not done so on the public lands ; or, That he held conference with the enemy, yet not upon points of intelligence treasonably af- fecting his own party. Upon this account it will be needful to distin- guish between each particular action, and to show wherein theft, trespass, adultery, &c. con- sist, in order that, if we wish to prove that a person had committed either of these crimes, or not, we might assert reasons wherefore, and clearly establish the contrast between right and injustice. In fact, upon the several preceding allegations, the knotty and difficult part of the dispute will arise from our being competent or not, to say, whether such an action, in particular, be malicious or otherwise ? and whether it were UPON RHETORIC. 1 5 J done with evil intentions ? because wickedness and injustice proceed from the intention and ends which are proposed. Now the terms of the foregoing allegations, such as theft, trespass, &c. comprise within their meaning and idea, " a preformed choice, determination, and design of doing injustice." This may be demonstrated, and it might further be shown, that such terms are applicable only to actions truly unjust and cri- minal, by supposing the case of a man simply striking another, for it would not follow that he was culpable, unless he struck with a certain design, and for a certain reason, such as to offer an affront, or to gratify his caprice. In the same way, it cannot be asserted, that if a man has secretly taken any thing, he has been guilty of a theft ; such a conclusion solely depending on his inju- rious intention of appropriating the article to himself. We are to judge upon the issue of other actions in a similar manner. Of Equity. Hitherto we have shown the two species of actions which are either just or unjust : one part of which bears relation to the written, and the other to 'the unwritten laws. With regard to those actions which are regulated and spoken of by the law, we have already treated. Of those which are independent of prescription, or 154 A DISSERTATION' written ordinances of right, there are two kinds, reducible to two heads. The first description are of such a quality as to be remarkable for an apparent excess of vice or virtue: upon which depend, conclusively, either the censure or praise, the honour or infamy, reward or punish- ment, of the agent. An example of such ac- tions might be instanced in, ** the testimony of gratitude," " returning one kindness for another," " the promptitude of rendering obli- gations to our friends," and such-like, with their contraries. Those of the second descrip- tion are attached to equity, and serve as a sup- plement, or final perfection to the particular and written laws : for, what is equitable is apparently just. We may define equity to be, " That reason of justice which supplies the defect of the written law, in those matters whereof that law has made no mention." This defect in the law happens, with regard to the legislator, either voluntarily or involuntarily. It is involuntarily when a thing has not come within his knowledge; and it happens with his consent, when, from its being impossible to remark upon all particular cases and incidents which may arise, he is re- duced to the necessity of speaking upon general grounds, although the law so established cannot be just, except in ordinary application. Legis- lative omissions not only arise from the imfossi- UPON RHETORIC. 155 bitity, but also from the difficulty of the legisla- tor's acting otherwise, on account of the vast number of comprehended circumstances which would amount to an infinity. If a legislator were, for example, obliged to ordain by law, that no one should strike another with iron, it could not be expected that he should lose his time in specifying the size, fashion, and form of the iron ; for this would be nugatory, inasmuch as it would be infinite. Whenever a legislator is obliged to make a law, the subject of which is so comprehensive as to exclude the limitation of circumstances, he should deliver himself in general terms, and po- sitive ordinations. Hereupon, we may see the nature of equity ; for, supposing that the law we have just mentioned were universally esta- blished, and it should happen, by chance, that a man, having an iron ring on his finger, should raise that hand to strike, or should actually strike another therewith, within the terms of the law, that man would be guilty and punishable ; though, in truth and effect, he were innocent. To discriminate in such cases is the province of equity ; which, if it be accordant to what we have said, clearly evinces the nature of things which we are to take for equitable, or the con- trary, and those persons whom we are to con- sider as unjust. First, then, equity will take place upon all 156 A DISSERTATION occasions where the propriety of pardon shall occur. Secondly, it consists in the knowledge of dis- tinguishing between a simple fault and pure wickedness, and of apportioning different pu- nishments to both. It also inculcates the ne- cessity of not confounding a fault with a simple accident, or the mere issue of misfortune. By accident \ mean every thing done without malice, or prepense thought. I call that a fault which lias been done really without malice, but yet not without reflection, nor believing that it should not have been so done. Wickedness is that which includes both reflection and malice : under the latter term I comprehend the whole dictates of disordered passion and appetite. Thirdly, equity is to be found in the assign- ment of certain things to human weakness and frailty ; sometimes in considering the law of itself less than the legislator who enacted it; sometimes in regarding not so much what it says, as what it meant to say ; and, finally, rather in examining the intention than the action of the accused. Fourthly, equity consists in not merely stop- ping at the details and particulars of a thing, but going into the gross and general consideration of it ; in voluntarily forming a judgment of the culprit by what has always or commonly been, ratlter than by what is for the present moment \ UPON RHETORIC. 157 in dwelling rather on the good which he has formerly done us, than the injury he has re- cently offered ; and still more upon that good which we have received from him, rather than that winch, at other periods, we have ourselves either rendered to, or procured for him. Lastly, equity is to be remarked, in supposing that the offended party is a person of endurance, who does not design to carry things to an ex- tremity ; in seeking the ways of mildness rather than of rigour ; and in preferring judgment of arbitration to that of forensic pleading ; for an arbiter has a regard to equity, whereas a judge attaches himself only to the law. In fact, the usage of arbitration is introduced solely for the purpose of showing the value of equity. So far for equitable actions. CHAP. XIV. How to distinguish the different Degrees of Injustice. Of all injurious and wrongful actions, those -are the most criminal which proceed from the greatest injustice. This is the reason why, fre- quently, actions of this nature, the most trivial in reality, are esteemed the most considerable* as is to be seen in the case of Catiiiratrf accusa- 158 A DISSERTATION tion of Melampus', for the circumstance on which he lays the greatest stress in exaggerating the bad faith of that man, is in showing that, having to pay some poor labourers employed in the building of a temple, he could not prevent him- self from cheating them of three demioboli, al- though it was money dedicated to the sacred uses of the altar. In actions of justice, now, the reverse of this is the case. The obligation of deciding upon unjust actions in this man- ner, is, that there is to be remarked in them a design and inclination which oversteps what has been really done. In fact, the man who would do wrong in the matter of three mere demioboli, would make no difficulty of doing so in a much more considerable one if he had an opportunity. Sometimes our judgment on these subjects is formed by the measure of an injustice as to its greatness, and sometimes by the wrong received, or the injury which it bears with it. Besides this, a crime is magnified, if it is of such a quality that the culprit cannot be sufficiently punished for it, and that there is no penalty or rigour too great for its deserts. An injustice is also considered greater if it be with- out remedy : for then the thing is not only of it- self injurious, but not capable of amendment. The world universally holds that injury to be of extreme magnitude, the author of which cannot be followed up to justice, as it may then be pronounced beyond cure. I here make use UPON RHETORIC. 159 of the word remedy ', because, in fact, every con- demnation or chastisement is, in regard to the offence committed, what a remedy is in regard to a disease. An injury is attended with still further aggravation, if, through despite, the person who receives it, makes it still more noxious to himself than it actually is : thus, the original of- fender, \\ithout doubt, if a man who has been injured turn the revenge upon himself, merits the most rigorous punishment. For this rea- son, Sophocles pleading the cause of Euctemon, who had slain himself in despair for an injury he received, made use of the following lan- guage : " What, gentlemen ! should you be less severe towards the culprit who has done the in- jury, -than he who has received it has been to himself?" A man is besides more worthy of punishment, and his deeds more censurable, if he be the first or sole person who has so acted, or has made use of little assistance trom others, in the execution of his wickedness. To relapse frequently into the same offence is a circumstance of its aggravation, and should heighten the punishment. Every action is the more criminal, in pro- portion to the number of new edicts which it gives occasion to, or to the invention of new, punishments caused by it. The inhabitants of Argos uniformly inflict an additional punishment on those who give necessity to the enactment of pew laws, or for the erection of new prisons. l6o A DISSERTATION The crime attended with the most brutality, merits the greater punishment : as, also, whatever wickedness has been long contemplated, or in preparation ; as well as every crime which in its recital arouses more the emotion of horror than of pity. Besides those which we have already remarked, there are other sorts of address which rhetoric frequently employs in amplifying and exagge- rating the wickedness of an action. As for instance, if we were to say, " That such a man has committed an action, which overturns or violates a part of the laws, or of what is neces- sary to the maintenance of justice among men ; such as oaths, friendship, good faith, marriage, &c. ;" lor in this case a single crime includes many. We may also insist that it is an over- grown stretch of wickedness to commit a crime even in the very place where punishment of the guilty is awarded ; as is the case with false wit- nesses in court : for I should like to know in what place a restraint can be put upon evil- doers, if they are not apprehensive of trans- gressing in the face of justice, and the presence of their judges ? Every action particularly marked by circum- stances of sharne will also be the more criminal on that account. The same may be said with regard to every offence committed against a be- nefactor : for here a double crime is committed : first, in the commission of wrong, and, secondly, UPON RHETORIC. l6l ip the breach of a duty. We may likewise lake it for granted, in One sense, that to sin against the unwritten laws, is the act of a very depraved mind, because it is the peculiar province of an honest man, to do good instinctively, and not from necessity or constraint. It is always neces- sary to obey the written laws, whereas a man is left at liberty with regard to an observance of the unwritten ones. In another sense, it can be maintained, that the violation of the written laws is demonstrative of special malignity, and of the most consummate addiction to evil ; for it will be extremely difficult to prevent a wicked man from committing wrong, if he cannot be de- terred from it by the certainty of punishment. CHAP. XV. * O/* Proofs which are independent of the Orator** Art. This description of proof may be classed under the five following heads : via, the laws, evidence, contrasts, fortune, and oaths. Of the LAWS. - I meaa to show herein, what use can be made of the laws for the purpose of persuading or dis- suading; for undertaking an accusation or a defence. When the advocate shall perceive any written law to make against his cause, he must have recourse to common law and equity, and maintain that the latter are more incomparably certain than the others, and considerably more friendly to justice. He may also maintain that " the import of a judge's deciding according to conscience and equity, means nothing more than that his authority is not to be slavishly bound down by an attachment to the written laws/' And he may further advance in favour of equity,, c< that it is as permanent and unchangeable as the common law, which is conformable to nature j whereas written laws are variable, and of short duration." This sentiment is confirmed by the Antigone of Sophocles, when fhe princess, in her justification, alleges, " that if she has contra- vened the laws of Creon, it was in order that she might be more free to obey a law of superior authority, though not numbered among those which were written ;" for in addition to the pas- sage we have quoted before, she Says, '* I with candour confess that I 've done without fear, That whieh. more than your king,, or bis laws, I tPON RHETORIC. 163 Besides, the advocate may urge in remonstrance, " that whatever is just ought to be attended with the circumstances of truth, reality, and efficient advantage to mankind, and not be imaginary, or dependent upon opinion or appearance ; that ihose conditions not being found in the law of which he speaks, he is free to say, that it does not even deserve the name of law, because it does not discharge the functions of one." Hfc may likewise urge, " that the judge's province is established upon those matters which regard justice, as is that of a person conversant in metallic knowledge to decide upon monies, in order to discern what is counterfeit and of im- pure alloy, from that which is pure and legalty authorized." In like manner, he may maintain, " that it is the part of an honest man to attach more value to the unwritten than the written law, and even to follow and regulate his conduct by the former rather than the latter." It will alsb be for the advocate to observe whether the law, which is unfavourable to his case, be not con- trary to another law of repute, or whether it be not at variance with itself; for it sometimes hap- pens, that one law enacts, for example, te That all sorts of contracts and agreements be avail- able ;" and another forbids, " That any person should contract to the prejudice of the existing laws and established ordinances." He should also endeavour to distinguish whether the law L 4 in question be not ambiguous, and subject to divers interpretations, in order to see in what manner it may be turned ; for, if it be possible to give it a construction which will at once es- tablish his right, or be of any use to his cause, he should immediately adopt it, and turn it to his own account. He should furthermore con- sider whether the law which is opposed to him, as of valid authority, had not been enacted for purposes which can no longer hold, or from cir- cumstances which no longer exist. If he esta- blishes this, he may insist upon abrogating and discrediting the law itself. But if it happen that a certain law makes m favour of the advocate, then he can remonstrate to the advantage of the written laws, " that al- though the judges make oath that they will pro- nounce according to their consciences in equity, it is by no means to be supposed that they arc absolutely free to judge as they think fit, dispens- ing with the laws altogether ; but that the oath was enjoined, in order that, if perchance the meaning of a law were so intricate as to preclude their understanding it, they should recollect that oath, .for fear of violating the enactment, and commilting an injustice." An advocate may also .contend for the value of law-authority, " that as- no one proposes to himself the acquisition of what U merely a general good, but always that which la meet and useful to himself in particular ; such Ul>ON fcHETORJC. 165 a consideration should be the more obligatory upon maintaining the written laws, as being es- tablished in states only to answer the end of some particular necessities.*' He may further argue in their favour, " that a legislator will in vain establish laws, if they are not to be strictly observed ; for to make laws, and not to observe them, is the same thing as if they were never made." He may also urge, " that if In the ajls in general, it is dangerous to wish the ap- pearance of being more learned than those who are masters thereof,- for instance, in medicine to pretend going beyond the advice and prescrip- tion of our physician, the same remark will more strongly apply to the laws : for, the want of faith hi a physician is Hot so prejudicial to the cure of a patient, as the habit of contravening and eluding the laws of a prince is contrary to the good of the state." Finally, it may be urged, " that to seek a refinement upon the laws, and to pretend to greater wisdom than they contain, is what has ever been prohibited by the most es- timable ordinances," Of EVIDENCE. Of this there are two kinds, ancient and modern ; . and of the latter -description it may be remarked, that some witnesses are in danger of incurring the same fortune as the accused, while others are * 3 l66 A DISSERTATION* not so. By the testimony of antiquity, I mean the poets, and other great men of former times, whose judgment or writings have been held in esteem. So considerable is the authority of this species of evidence, that when the Athenians were at variance for the island of Salamis, they called in the aid of no other testimony than that of Homer : the people of Tenedos opposed to the inhabitants of Sig^um the opinion of Peria?i(ler y the sage of Corinth : and, finally, CledpJion, when pleading against Critias, upon a charge of dissoluteness, principally, cited in evidence one of Solon 's elegies, to show that the vice was hereditary in the accused, and was always the reproach of his house : " for," said the prose- cutor, " if it were not true, is it possible that s,uch a man as Solon would think of composing the following verse : " Bid the soft Critias listen to his sire " Such is the testimony of the ancients, which carries credit as to the past. With regard to. those whose testimony is of consideration as to the future, we may first reckon the interpreters of oracles ; for instance : Thewistocles was cre- dited, when he declared, " That the building of wooden walls" (which was mentioned by the oracles) c< meant nothing, more than an in-r timation to equip a naval armament, and put to sea." Secondly, we may take into account UPON RHETORIC. l6/ all proverbs, which, as we have elsewhere re- marked, may induce credit, and serve as evidence upon occasion ; for example : if a person wishes to advise another against contracting friendships with the aged, he may call in this proverb: " Never jest with an old man." Or if it were his object to persuade, that children, whose fa- thers have been killed, should not be permitted r to live, the following verse, which has passed into a proverb, may serve as a proof: " He is a fool, Who kills the father, and yet spares the child." By modern witnesses are to be understood, ' those, who, being possessed of reputation, have given their judgment and opinion on any matter; and, without doubt, the judgment of those persons will be of considerable advantage to parties having similar differences to those upon which such testimony was heretofore received. Hence, Eubulus, in full court, made use of the same repartee to Chares, which Plato did before to Arcli'ibhis ; namely : < that he was the cause of evil-doing having become a public and undis- guised profession at Athens" But among mo- dern witnesses, some are in danger of being visited by the same fortune as the accused, if it appear that they are perjurers or calumniators. Another class of modern witnesses is merely ad- duced for the purpose of making known, " whe L 4 1 68 A DISSERTATION ther such a particular crime has been committed or not ? whether such a thing exists or not ?'* their opinion being never taken upon the quality of any action ; for instance : its criminality or innocence its being advantageous or preju- dicial, See. Now the contrary is the case with witnesses who are not present at the suit, or who have no concern therein ; their testimony being very essential in such cases ; namely, as to the quality of the action. In fact, none are so worthy of credit in this respect as the ancients, a$ being incorruptible, and beyond the reach or possibility of subornation. It must be allowed that testimonial proof is not entirely useless, and that, frequently, one attaches as much credit to it as to other stronger proof. But if it happen that the advocate has no wit- ness on his side, he can then remonstrate, " that a fixed and certain judgment ought never to be founded upon a mere narration, but only upon the strength of reason and probability ; and that io judge, in this latter manner, is to judge Ac- cording to conscience, and in equity." He may in like manner assert, to the advantage of proba* bility, " that it never has been corrupted by money, and that it cannot be out-convinced by false testimony." On the other hand, the advocate who has it in his power to produce witnesses against another, UPON RHETORIC. 169 who is not enabled to meet him in the same way, has a right to maintain, " that it would be inimi- cal to justice to pretend to the power of condemn- ing a man upon simple conjecture, or apparent and probable reason ; since probability, deceitful as it is of itself, not being within the reach of cor- rection for its wrong, as witnesses are, would constantly cause the triumph of calumny over innocence." In a word, he may maintain, " that judges, at all times, would in vain in- troduce that so necessary habit of producing witnesses, if mere reasons alone were fully suffi- cient for. the conviction and proof of a crime.'* All testimony either regards our own side or that of the adverse party ; either the immediate subject of the cause, or the habit of life and manners of the individuals. Hence it may be seen, that in whatever manner a person is enabled to giv$ evidence upon any matter, it wilt t>e open to the use, and probably to the advan- tage, of the advocate. For if the testimony given, neither favours our own cause, nor im- pugns that of pur adversary, at least it may have some effect with regard to the character and manners of each by establishing, perhaps, our innocence in these respects, and their cri- jninality. Other reasons may be alleged upon the person or quality of the witness, in order to weaken or strengthen his depositions : such as, " that he is either a friend or an enemy to the 1~0 A DISSERTATION parties, or neither that he bears a bad reputa- tion, or a good one or that either good or bad report has been heard of him," and such-like distinctions. For more enlarged deductions upon this head, recourse must be had to the various places whence enthymems are derived. Of CONTRACTS. As to what can be said of contracts and con- ventions, it all depends either upon the aggran- dizement of their validity, or showing that they are null and void. It also consists in preventing or procuring their being credited. If the con- tract in dispute be in our own favour, we must endeavour to procure it credit, and to increase its weight. If it be against us, the contrary sys- tem must be adopted. The same means of pro- curing belief in this instance, as have been shown with regard to testimony, are alone ne- cessary to be used ; for, it is certain, that if be- lief be attached to those persons who have signed or kept a minute of the contract, the instru- ment itself will have equal credit. If in the course of the pleadings it be granted, that a contract is valid, in case that it is on our own side, we must endeavour to add to its authority. Here there will be occasion to say, " that all contracts and conventions are, properly speaking, so many laws; but of such a nature, as that UPON RHETORIC. I "J I they regard certain particular persons or things only : that, ;';; /?,-/, there is no convention or contract sufficiently considerable to arm with authority any law whatsoever; but, however, that those instruments at least possess this advan- tage, that, being legally and formally made, they become as inviolable, and of as high authority as the laws themselves." In addition to this, it may be contended, " that every particular law is nothing more than a contract ; so that who- ever is unjust enough not to abide by, or who prevents the fulfilment of a contract, makes a direct attack upon the laws, and destroys them to the extent of his ability." It might equally be urged, " that most worldly affairs, such, as negotiations, alliances, and every thing esta- blished by common consent, are founded upon, good faith alone, and subsist only by convention ; so that, if a man denies credit to such things, he instantly abjures all communication and in- tercourse \vith his fellow-men." Numerous other inferences will necessarily flow from the observation of each particular case. When a contract makes against us, and ope- rates to the advantage of our adversary, the first step to be taken in combatting it, must be, to employ the same weapons which we have already afforded in the instance of attacking a law which is unfavourable to us. Hence we shoul^ say, " That it would be strange, if, believing as we 172 A DISSERTATION do, that there is no obligation to obey laws which are not established as they ought to be, or \\hich have been derived from interest, or an abuse of the people's rights, we could, however, believe, that it is somewhat necessary to comply with fraudulent and informal contracts. Added to this, if every judge be a dispenser of justice, it is his duty not so much to regard what he is led to by considering the contract, as what he ought jn equity to do." In fine, it may be alleged, " that whatever is really just cannot be prevented by any stratagem, or any violence, since its foundation is laid in nature. But that, as to Conventions, chicanery is in general predomi- nant, and that men usually enter into con- tracts merely because they arc compelled to do so from necessity." In addition to these re- marks, we should take care to observe whether the contract, which is intended to be made use of against us, be not contrary to some one of the written, or commpn and natural laws; as also, whether it be not repugnant to equity or morality. It should likewise be noticed, whether this same contract be not derogatory to another which might be subsequent or anterior to it ; for, if the latter contract be available, the former one 3s rendered null ; and if the first be good and formal, the other will be fraudulent, and con- trary to good faith. In that case, we must make use of it as will best befit the favour of our UPON RHETORIC. cause. We should, finally, observe of what utility such contract could be ; whether it con- tains any thing contrary to the decrees and au- thority of the judges, and such-like cases, as the occasion and subject-matter put us fully in pos- session of. Of TORTURE. With regard to investigation by torture, wq may assure others, that it is a species of tes- timony which carries with it the seeming obliga- tion of being the rather credited because it is a method whereby men are forced to the declara- tion of the truth. Upon this subject, there is no difficulty in seeing what can be said on both sides. If the use of torture be advantageous to our cause, we must attach a value to it by contend- ing, " that, of all modes of testimony, it is the only true and faithful one." But if the adverse party wish to employ it against us, we must endeavour to depreciate the usage, by show- ing it can never lead to a knowledge of the trulh. At the same time, it will be to the pur- pose to treat of its nature in general ; for then there will be room to advance, " that the vio- lence of the torment endured may equally lead a man to say what is not, as to say what really is : that it too frequently happens, that crimi- nals on the rack, by reason of a robust consti- 174 A DISSERTATION tution enabling them to endure the pain inflicted, confess nothing of their crimes, while, on the contrary, the really innocent, compelled by tor- ments which they are incapable : enduring, falsely accuse themselves, in ordc- to procure a cessation of their pains." Examples 'upon this subject should be collected from persons to whom such things have occurred, and with which, we are persuaded, the judges are parti- cularly acquainted. Of OATHS. An oath may be considered in four ways : for, * We either require that the adverse party make oath ; and that, upon his refusal, ours be received :" ; H " Or we absolutely wish neither party to , sv/ear ; " Or we desire the oath of one in preference to that of another :" which may again be con- sidered in two points of view : . . . r " Either in our wishing to abide by the oath of our adversary, without swearing ourselves :" " Or ? in our objecting to his oath, and requir- ing implicit credit to our own." Besides those four methods, an oath may be considered in another light ; namely : whether any of the parties have sworn ? If either have, tne advocate must see, whether it be his own. i UPON RHETORIC. l*}$ or the opposite party. In case that we ate the ob- jectors to the oath of our adversary, we must contend, " that the objection is legitimate, because there are few persons who scruple a perjury ; and that, for instance, in the matter of money lent, it would be a bad recourse for a creditor to abide by the oath of his debtor, who, he knows, would desire nothing more than an opportunity of procuring his quittance by a perjury : that we place too firm a reliance upon the justice of our demands, not to await a favourable decree from the judges, who will no doubt con- demn the adverse party, without regard to his oath, or frivolous protestations : and that we would be better pleased to rely on our judges than the interested party, on account of his bad faith being too well known to us; while, on the contrary, we have every reason to confide in the virtue and equity of our judges." If it happen, on the other hand, that the ad- verse party is inclined to abide by our oath, and that, upon his tender to that effect, we refuse to swear, we may allege in our defence, " that it is unbecoming an honourable man to accept such an offer in a money transaction ; that if we were basely inclined, and our demand were ill founded, we would not let slip so fair an oppor- tunity ; that it is much better to be depraved for some consideration than for nothing ; that in this case, it is evident, we have but to swear, in 176 A DISSERTATION order to obtain our demands : whereas, if we do not swear, we put ourselves in the way of losing them altogether ; and that, for this reason, the opposite party ought not to take advantage of our refusal, since it is induced by our profess- ing an honourable conduct, and not from the fear of wounding our conscience by perjury.' 7 Hereon we may further advance, what has been said by Xenoplmncs, " that, upon the subject of an oath, no comparison can be instituted be- tween the good and the depraved ; for the match would be as unequal as if a robust man should demand to fight another who was considerably more feeble." In case that we are the party requiring to take the oath, we must remonstrate, " that our un- dertaking to do so proceeds from our perfect as- surance that we will speak the truth, and that we mistrust the adverse party." Herein we must reverse the reasoning of Xenophanes, and contend, " that the listg are never more equal, than when the dishonest man offers to abide by -the oath of a man of integrity, and that the latter accepts the offer." We may insist, in ad- dition, " that it would be very strange if we refused to take an oath which our very judges made no difficulty in taking, and without which we would not believe them capable of judging us." But if we ourselves make an ofTer to the a^ UPON RHETORIC Iff verse party of abiding by his oath, we may al- lege, " that there is surely nothing more be- coming the piety and spirit of a good man, than to wish his interests to be placed in the hands of the gods ; that there is no necessity for the op- posite party to recur to any other judges, since we are perfectly ready to abide by what he shall, say: and that it would be equally ridiculous in him to refuse taking an oath, which he believed necessary to the qualification of his judges." Having obtained the knowledge which we have, of what might be said on both sides, respecting the four ways of considering an oath, by taking each in particular into review, we also see what can be said when those modes are coupled together, or viewed more than one at the same time ; for as those combinations are composed of the same materials which have been separately remarked, the reasoning must be the same, except in the case of their being #// joined together. But if it happen that the oath which we have taken be contrary to what has been hitherto laid down, in order to afford a reason for our dissolv- ing it, we must maintain, " that it is absolutely impossible to accuse us of perjury, since the oath which we have taken was imposed by sur- prise or constraint : the act of perjury is one of injustice ; and injustice is a voluntary act ; no- thing, however, can be more opposite to a vo- M '178 A DISSERTATIOX luntary action than surprise or constraint/ 7 Therefore, it is fair to conclude, u that neither the tongue, nor the words uttered, singly con- stitute a perjury, but the intention and the will alone." But if the adverse party wish to dissolve his oath, we must maintain, " that the violation of an oath overturns every thing well ordered and sacred among men; that, in all times, the use of an oath has been considered so necessary and religiously binding, that the very judges are not permitted to enter upon their functions until they have sworn, and solemnly promised to ac- quit themselves of their duties." Here the ad- vocate may personally address the judges them- selves, and say, " What, my lords I should it be said that you who are our judges should be strictly obliged to adhere to the judgments yon have pronounced, by reason of the oaths which you have taken ? and that all others should be at liberty to violate their oaths wlven they thought fit, and to abide by them, merely e a sufficient set-off against the evil which oppresses him ; yet it comes only when the matter is brought to issue, and the evil is al- ready endured. Such was the adventure of Dtogitkts*, who was found dead at the very * I do not well know who this Dio/iithes is; whether he be the Athenian general of whom Demosthenes speaks in his UPON RHETORIC. 239 moment when the King of Persia's presents were brought to him. In fine, our pity will extend to all persons who have never experienced a blessing in their lives, or, if any have occurred, are incapable of enjoying it. Of Persons whom we compassionate. With regard to those who awaken our com- miseration, we shall begin with " our familiars and acquaintances ;" provided that they do not affect us too nearly : for we should then con- sider their misfortune as our own, and we should be as sensible to it as themselves. It is told of Amasis *, that he did not shed a single tear when, he saw his son led to punishment, and that he wept on beholding one of his friends begging alms. In point of fact, the latter misfortune was merely pitiable ; whereas the former was frightful and terrific for a father to behold. third Philippic, or the famous soothsayer mentioned by Ari- stophanes. It is certain, however, that the person alluded to, having for a long time been extremely necessitous, died at the critical moment when the Persian monarch sent him wherewithal to live at ease. * This story is told by HeioJotus. It is remarkable that Aristetle should attribute to Amasis what happened to his son Psamenitus; he must either, from \yant of recollection, have mistaken the one for the other, or, probably, confided in other authority than that of Herodoim. 240 A DISSERTATION There is a wide interval between what creates horror, and what excites pity : the former feeling not only chases away the latter from the breast, but even frequently gives rise to an emotion quite the reverse. We also compassionate those who are me- naced with, or on the point of falling into, some misfortune ; and equally those who are similar in all respects to ourselves, such as per- sons of the same age, humour, habit, quality, or equal birth. In this latter case, we have good reason to apprehend that their misfortunes may be ours : for, it is a maxim, that whatever we stand in apprehension of, lest it should befall us, is that which excites compassion when it has befallen others. Those things alone exeite compassion, which we see near at hand, or which seem to approach us. On the contrary, a very distant disaster, for instance, one which has occurred a thousand years ago, or which will not happen for ten thousand years to come, whether we believe, in the one case, that it will infallibly occur, or, in the other, recollect that it has formerly happened, an evil of this kind, I say, will either affect us very little or not at all. From this observa- tion we may infer, i. " That all persons whose gestures, voice, or apparel, have been represented to us, or who are perfectly held up to our view by imitation, UPON RHETORIC. will, without comparison, excite more pity than others ; because, by the illusion, the misfortunes of such persons are represented as quite near : it matters not whether in past or future occur- rence.'* 2. " That the misfortune which has happened a short time ago, or which is on the eve of oc- curring, is much more pitiable than others." 3. " The same observation will apply to every token or action whereby it may be known that such things have really befallen a person : for example, the bloody garments of a man who has been killed ; the complaints and language of a person in extreme anguish ; and whatever ex- pressions a person afflicted by pain or misfortune may utter : such as the last words of a man at the point of death. A man's miseries will be particularly affecting, if it appear that he has displayed great virtue, and manifested a perfect constancy in the midst of his misfortunes. All these circumstances giving a nearer view of the thing, we entertain more compassion for the time, as if it seemed that the person represented in such a condition, had no other merit than that of his misfortune; which being so depicted, will strike our imagination as present to the eye. 24* A DISSERTATION CHAP. IX. Of INDIGNATION. This passion is the opposite of the foregoing one, and may be defined to be, " that displea- sure which a man feels when he perceives the prosperity of an undeserving person." Indig- nation supposes in its votaries a similitude of mind and manner; and, equally with pity, ori- ginates in laudable principles, and good natural dispositions r for, it is as much the part of a worthy man to be indignant, and to grudge the prosperity or honours of an undeserving indi- vidual, as it would be to entertain commisera- tion for those who are unmeritedly afflicted. Whatever befalls a man, without merit or de- merit on his part, of good or evil, is unjust and provoking ; wherefore, we even attribute the feeling of indignation to the gods. It is neces- sary to forewarn the reader, that envy and in- dignation should not by any means be sup- posed as being equally the reverse of pity : for, though envy as well as indignation is the effect of an annoying and unpleasant regret, created by our perception of another man's prosperity, yet, in this respect, the former differs from the latter, that it is not the unworthincss of the in- dividual, but his equality or competition with UPON RHETORIC. 243 the envious man, which causes the latter to feel chagrined by that individual's prosperity. Envy and indignation, however, have this, in common to both, thai those who are affected by either, are never annoyed by the happiness of any man, on account of the prejudice or etril which it might entail on themselves, but merely with reference to the object of their aversion who is so favoured. If the unpleasant feeling arose wholly from the apprehension of a man's good fortune turning to our disadvantage, then it would be neither envy nor indignation, but pure fear. Pity and indignation are so far similar, as that a contrary passion will be the effect of both : for it necessarily follows, that, " whoever feels afflicted by the misfortunes of a man who merits the contrary, must feel a joy, or, at least, feel no commiseration for the misfortunes of those who have merited them." For instance, a worthy man will not be dejected by the punishment of a parricide or a murderer : such retribution being that in which the whole com- munity has reason to rejoice. In like man- ner, he will not be afflicted in feeling, by wit- nessing the prosperity and rewards of virtuous merit; both cases being equally just: but the latter must more especially contribute to the joy and satisfaction of a good man, as it will give him a well-founded reason to hope, " that what has happened to his like, will happen to u 2 244 A DISSERTATION himself." The passions which are opposite to pity and indignation proceed from bad prin- ciples and opposite dispositions. The person \vho malignantly triumphs in the misfortune of another is invariably an envious man ; and it is necessarily a consequence, that whoever afflicts himself on account of another man's happiness, must feel rejoiced in its being reversed. Such a passion is incompatible with pity, and pre- vents the entrance of such a feeling into the breast wherever both come in contact : for, they are mutually repugnant, for the reasons already stated. A continued state of indignation, equally with envy, steels the heart against the admission of pity, Objects which excite Indignation. Taking indignation to be that feeling which we have just now explained, it will necessarily follow, " That all sorts of good fortune befalling others, are not equally capable of attracting indignation." For, no one is disposed to be indignant at, or to take amiss, the happy lot of a worthy man, whether he be distinguished for valour, or any other good quality. If it were Otherwise, it would follow, by the rule of con- traries, that the opposite vices would create , which is not the ca.se. But we UPON RHETORIC. 24$ are usually indignant that a man should possess Wealth or power, who is unworthy of either : such things being the actual due and recompense of worthy men. And indignation is equally ex- cited by the unworthy possession of such ad- vantages as nature or circumstance has conferred on a man at his birth : such as beauty, nobility, and such-like. Persons against whom we entertain Indignation. As every thing which is of a long standing or possession in a family, seems in a manner na- tural to it, and, as it. were, the due of the pos- sessor, we may conclude, " that, of several possessing a good of the same quality, those who hold it for the shortest period, and yet arrive, by its means, at places of higher distinc- tion and trust, will draw down upon them con- siderably more indignation than others :" be- cause there will be much more food for vex- atious remark, in the enrichment of upstarts, than ihere would with respect to persons dis- tinguished time immemorial for their ancestorial possessions, regularly transmitted to them. We may in like manner infer, that the same indig- nation' will be felt towards such as within a short time have been exalted to situations of command, the possession of power or of friends, who are within a short period only, happy in their chil- 246 A DISSERTATION dren, &c. ; and more particularly if such ad- vantages have proceeded from others within the same short period." Mankind with more diffi- culty endure the authority of upstarts, which is created by their wealth, than they do that of persons long noted for opulence. Similar feel- ings obtain among men, with respect to the date of other acquisitions newly obtained. Long possession of a thing seems to confer a legiti- mate, and, as it were, a peculiar right of pro- perty : whereas, those who cannot plead it, pass for usurpers. And, again, that which has never changed its state is as it should be ; so that, it is an incitement to our belief, that the possession of short date is not the property of the pos- sessor. Furthermore, it is to be remarked, that all goods, generally speaking, and taking each in particular, have not been made for all de- scriptions of persons, nor for the first comer ; in which respect, a certain order and decency is to be maintained ; for instance : a fine suit of armour is not so fit for the lawyer as the sol- dier; nor high connexions so compatible with the suddenly rich, as with men of illustrious rank and descent. We may make the following inferential observations: " That to see any thing befall an honourable or distinguished man, contrary to his merit or the decorum due to his rank, must excite indig- nation." As also, UPON RHETORIC. 247 " To see an ignorant or unskilful man, pre- suming to under-rate another who has more ability, particularly if both be of the same pro- fession, and that their contest originated in some point regarding that profession." Hence, Homer has said of Cebriones the Trojan, : " Though brave and daring in th' embattled field, To stouter Ajax' arm he soon and the decided allegation of events, are of much greater effect in deliberation and more appropriate to persuasive oratory. This happens on account of the great resemblance be- tween all occurrences, inasmuch as it may be said, that the past is commonly a presage of the future, and that nothing almost is done now-a- days, which was not formerly done. With respect to the use of examples, it is to be observed, that if we have no enthymems but merely examples in proof, we must use the latter instead of the former, and give them a value as if they were so many demonstrative and con- vincing proofs. But if we have enthymems, ex- amples must give way to their use, and only be applied, as simple testimonies, in order to confirm what has been previously established. If an orator prefer Example to enthymem, he incurs this misfortune, that his argument seems to be an indication which he should studiously avoid, inasmuch as induction is not appropriate to, and can but rarely be employed in, rhetoric. If example, however, be postponed to enthy- mem, and be merely used as testimony, no in- convenience will arise ; and it will be so far useful as testimony is a description of proof uni- versally admitted. Besides, if the preference were given to examples, the orator would b$ obliged to collect a number of them ; whereas, T 90 A DISSERTATION if it be postponed, a single one will suffice. For, testimony is so far important, that, if it proceed from a credible source, one single item is of no mean authority. CHAP. XXI. Of SENTENCES. " A sentence," properly speaking, means " a certain manner of saying things affirmatively, and in form of truths ;" not in particulars, such as in making known what kind of a man IpTticratcs is : but generally; and also distinctively; for, it must not be understood as extending to all descriptions of subjects, as for instance, " that whatever is straight is the opposite of what is crooked ;" but merely to things which regard the actions of hu- man life, and which men, in all their designs, purpose either to follow or to avoid. Now, since almost every enthymem is a kind of syllogism, applicable to such matters, it follows, that all the conclusions of enthymems, and all the propo- sitions which serve as their foundation, the syllo- gistic form being excluded, will be so many sen- tences. For instance, if a person should say, " The man whom reason guides, and children bless, Should square their learning by their happiness ;" EURIPID. in Medea. tJPON RHETORIC. This is, without doubt, a pure sentence; but if the reason be added, and if it be shown why such a thing ought to be done, then the whole, taken together, will be an enlhyincm; for example, " For, added to the indolence of life *, Is worldly envy, and perpetual strife." EURIPID. in Medea* The same may be said of the following verse : " No man has ever known pure happiness." EURIPID. in Hecula. And " In lus condition T call no man free." Ibid* In stopping at these affirmations, we make a sentence, but in adding the sequel, we make an entbymem. For example : " Each to his ruling passion's sway is sold, The slave of fortune, or seductive gold." There are many kinds of sentences, of which, if they accord with the definition we have given, it follows that there are four ; since there are some which a man could not allege without assigning proofs or reasons, and others which- are alleged singly, without any addition. * Perhaps Walter Scott borrowed the following disticfr in his y from the above passage of Euripides f " Thanks to St. Gothan, son of mine, Save Gawin, never penn'd a line." T 2, 292, A DISSERTATION Every sentence which is paradoxical in its na- ture, that is to say, which advances any doctrine contrary to public opinion, and which a man may revoke in doubt, must necessarily be assisted by proofs and reasoning. As to those sentences which are in conformity with the opinions of the world, they stand perfectly secure upon simple allegation. These latter are, however, different in two respects, as to their dispensing with proofs, either, first, because they advance things of which the hearer was previously persuaded, or which he knew before ; as if a man should say, " The greatest advantage to be derived in life, arises out of a propriety in self-conduct and the possession of health ;" for, there are few people to whom this sentence will not immediately convey an ap- parent truism ; or, secondly, they need no proof, because they are so clear as to require the hearer's attention alone while they are delivered, in order to secure his concurrence ; for instance, the fol- lowing : (< The importance of love docs not con- sist in its fervour, but in its duration." Those sentences which cannot be alleged without a reason, are also of different descriptions; as there are some which form parts of enthymems ; for in- stance, " The man whom reason guides, &c." There are others again, which, though they make no part of an enthymem, are equally as UPON RHETORIC. 293 valid as one : this kind of sentence is the most to be esteemed, because it contains in itself the reason of what it advances ; for instance, " Mortal! preserve not an immortal hate!" For, to say simply, that " a man should not always continue his anger," is a mere sentence, whereas the antithesis between the word mortal and its opposite, gives an augmentation to the sense, and demonstrates wherefore the passion should not be indulged to continuity. Here is a similar assertion : " The man who is subject to death, should not aspire to immortality, nor carry his thoughts to things which are completely beyond his attainment." Paradoxical sentences may be constructed, either by prefixing the reason, and making use of the allegation after it, in form of conclusion ; or- vice versa. For instance, the following or its converse; " As for my part, since I know that we ought never to expose ourselves to envy, or lead a slothful life ; for that reason I maintain, that the sciences should be abandoned, and that no one should meddle with them." Sentences which are neither extraordinary nor paradoxical, but which have the defect of not being sufficiently clear, must equally be alleged with the combination of reasons, in doing which, a certain skill and adroitness of manner must be pbservcd. For this reason, I would recommend T 2(y4 A DISSERTATION an imitation of the Lacedemonian manner of say- ing things; or the use of covert and enigmatical terms, nearly such as Stesichorus made use of, in order to prevent the Locrlans from injuring their neighbours. The following was the manner of his entreaty : " Gentlemen/' said he, " you should neither act so abandoned a part, nor com- mit an attack upon others; for fear that in the end the grasshoppers may be forced to chirp on the bare ground ^." The Use of Sentences. It is not to be imagined that the whole world are indiscriminately free to make use of those, as they are solely pertinent to the aged, and even to them only in matters wherein they are ac- quainted, or wherein they are experienced. In fact, nothing is so indecorous as to hear a young man, or any person upon whom age has not stamped its character of authority, delivering himself in a sententious manner, or making ap- plication of fables. For, it is equally silly as it is impertinent to adduce such things upon mat- ters wherein a person is completely raw and in- experienced. This may be particularly remarked The meaning is this; for fear, that, if you enter into a, war, and be discomfited, your country should be so ravaged, that not a blade of grass shall be left standing even for the cover of those little insects. UPON RHETORIC. 29$ in rustics, who of all others are the greatest ma- nufacturers and retailers of sentences upon every occasion. Secondly, we are to observe, with re- spect to a sentence, that particular things should never be delivered in general terms, except in subjects of complaint, or in the exaggeration of a orime, where they must be used either at first, or after the thing shall have been proved. Another circumstance to be attended to respecting sentences is, that the most trivial and common ones may be used, provided they be of utility or application to the subject. The very circumstance of their be- ing common will ensure them a better reception, as they will be taken for truths which are ap- proved of by the world. For example, a cap- tain, who should have to attack an enemy, with- out having previously consulted auguries, or of- fered sacrifices, might allege the following verse which is so common : " Defence of country is the best portent." HOMER'S lliad^ xii. Or, if another leader had to contend against an enemy more powerful and more numerous than his own party, in order to inspirit his sol- diers he might assure them, that " The chance of war is uncertain." In the same manner, if a man designed to slay the children of his enemies, however innocent of wrong they may be, in order to find a pretext for his cruelty, he might call in T 4 596 A DISSERTATION the aid of the following line, which has become proverbial : " He is a fool Who kills the father, and yet spares the child." Besides these different sorts of sentences, there? are certain proverbs which are truly sententious, and which may be used in that quality. As for example,, if a man should cite upon the occasion of evil neighbours, the proverb of " Tfte Athe- nian neighbourhood *.' Not only may the most trivial and common sentences be made use of, but it is also frequently permissible to contradict them by alleging their contraries. Care, however, must be taken not to do this designedly, as it should never take place except through passion ; or when a man would wish to appear honourable by adducing sentir xnents superior to those of others. By proverbial sentences, I mean such as the following : *. 1 Know thyself."-'? Too much of nothing/' &c. Now, as an example of what may be said in refutation of these, under the influence of passipn, a man in that state might say, with respect to the former of the prpverbs quoted, " That it is ab- solutely false to believe in the necessity of know- ing one's self; for if it were necessary, and that * Because the Athenians dispossessed the people pf Samos of their island. UPON RHETORIC. 297 such a person," pointing to a particular man, " were well known, he never would have had the impudence to demand the conduct of that army which he at present commands." Respecting the impression of a good opinion of one's self upon others, and making a show of superior sentiments to those which are common, an instance may bo given in the following counter-assertion to what generally obtains upon the head of friendship ; " That it is necessary to love an object as if we were one day to hate it." And it might be add- ed, " that for stronger reasons we should hate in such a manner as if we were one day to love." In these cases, however, great care must be taken with regard to the expression, so as to make it appear that what we say is heart-felt, and the ef- fect of self-persuasion ; for, otherwise, we should be obliged to cite reasons wherefore. For in- stance, in this manner : " Yes, Sirs, I must con- fess that a man should be open to the feeling of love, not however in such wise, as is commonly said, i. e. as if some day or other he were to hate the object ; but rather, as if he were to love for ever; for, an affection of any other kind, is trai- torous and not real." Or, again, this might be said : " For my part, I cannot approve what is com- monly said respecting friendship, that a man should love as if he were one day to hate his friend ; for, so far from this being necessary, I maintain on flic contrary, that one real friend should love 298 A DISSERTATION another, with the same tenderness as if their friendship were to subsist through eternity. The second quoted proverb may be impugned thus : " So far from its being certain that we ought to overdo nothing, and that excess is in every thing to be condemned, I contend, that no man can entertain , too great a hatred of the wicked.'* Of the Advantage derived from Sentences. If we consider a sentence well, it possesses two advantages, which are by. no means unimportant in attaching value to a discourse. The first pro-r ceeds from the foolish vanity of the hearer, who is delighted, if the person who speaks of a thing in general terms, makes show of entertaining the same opinion with himself upon any matter \vhereof he is persuaded. Another mode of ex- planation will, however, not only render clearer what has been just said, but will also lead to the research and discovery of sentences. Now, as we have made it appear, that, pro- perly speaking, " a sentence is a sort of enun- ciation or mode of expression which pronounces upon things in absolute and general terms ;" as also, that nothing gives more pleasure to a hearer than when he perceives a speaker's gene- ral opinion of things to coincide with his own belief of their truth, as to particulars ; for in- stance, if a man had bad neighbours, or disobe- UPON RHETORIC. 299 client children, he would willingly listen to ano- ther who should say, " That nothing is so troublesome as a bad neighbourhood ;" or, " That it is the most silly thing in the world to beget children." Hence, I say, it follows, that the true secret whereby to find a store of sentences, lies in en- deavouring to discover the sentiments of one's auditors, and the particular opinions by which they are prejudiced. When we have so done, it will be necessary to reduce those particular opinions into general maxims, alleging them as if they were absolutely true. So far for one of the advantages which a proper use of sen- tences carries with it. Another, and a much more important advan- tage than the foregoing, is derived from sen- tences, inasmuch as in any discourse they leave behind them a certain impression with regard to the manners of the speaker, and afford some clue towards forming a judgment of what he is. This impression is visible in every discourse, whenever the orator puts forth his own influencing max- ims, and makes known what actions in his life he proposes in preference to others. Now, to de- monstrate those things is peculiarly appropriate to sentences. For, the sententious speaker does nothing more than pronounce, in general terms, upon subjects which relate to our choice in the 3OO A DISSERTATION conduct of life, either in proposing or rejecting. Hence, if a man adduces such sentences as are commendable and connected with virtuous max- ims, they will confer on him the appearance of a good man, and will impress a favourable opi- nion concerning him. CHAP. XXII. Of ENTHYMEMS in general. We shall now speak of the method whereby these may be discovered, and afterwards lay down those places whence they may be derived. Both are matters of different import, and require to be separately considered. We have already shown that enthymem is a species of syllogism, and how the syllogistic qua- lity agrees with it, as also wherein it differs from syllogisms of logic. An enthymem has this pe- culiarity, that its proofs are never distantly de- rived, and that its conclusion is formed without necessarily expressing all its propositions, or say- ing the entire of what could be said. The former process it rejects by reason of the obscurity, tedi- cuisness, and the train of argument which attend it ; and the second it dispenses with, because it is gn unnecessary trouble to repeat what is UPON RHETORIC. 30! dent and universally known. This is the reason why we commonly perceive persons of no study or elaborate education, more persuasive in popu- lar oratory, or, to make use of poetic terms, " com- manding an avenue to the ear by the harmony of their discourse," more than those who are infi- nitely learned, and who have deeply studied. The cause of this is, that the learned recur to universals, and common-place ; whereas the others adhere to their subject, and speak only upon what they know. So that the true mode of rhetorical confirmation consists not in alleging all kinds of proofs, however probable they might be, but simply such as are received and approved of either by the judges before whom we speak, or by those whom they esteem, whether we secure the concurrence of all, or of a majority. It may be furthermore observed respecting enthymems, that their proof not only ought to be founded upon certain and necessary propositions, but also upon probability and that which is only com- monly true. In order then to reason and argue upon any matter, we must first know, as, to the subject, whatever it may be, wherein there is need of employing the force of argument : it makes no difference from what source such arguments be derived ; for instance, from politics, or any other source. It is absolutely necessary, I say, to be ac- quainted with every thing, or at least with 3O2 A DISSERTATION most things relevant to such subjects ; for, if we h;!ve no knowledge therein, we have no means of proving any thing, or laying the basis of any argument. For example, I ask, how is it possible to convince the Athenians of the necessity for their going to war or otherwise, if we be not truly ac- quainted with the forces which they possess; whe- ther they be powerful by sea or land, or in both respects together; the precise number of their troops or vessels, the monies usually paid into their treasury ; the extent of their alliances, the nature and number of their enemies ; the wars in which they themselves have heretofore engaged, -in what manner they conducted them, the success which they have had, &c. &c. The same observation will apply, if our busi- ness is to praise the Athenians ; for, how could \ve accomplish that object, if we were unac- quainted with the occurrences of the day at Sa- lamis or at Marathon ; what they did in favour of the HeraclideSy and such-like distinguished ac- tions. The eulogist does nothing more than put forward whatever he finds either really or appa- rently praiseworthy in his subject. A similar me- thod is employed by those whose subject is cen- sure or irrvective ; except in matters perfectly of an opposite nature. The principal object of the invective orator is to see what can be found cen- surable in his subject, whether it be so in truth, er is merely believed to be so. For example, if tfPON RHETORIC. 303 he were employed in speaking against the Alhe- nians, he should reproach them for injustice in subjugating the remainder of the Greeks, parti- cularly those of &g'wa and Potidea, who per- formed such wonders in assisting to repel the common enemy. He should also bring forward whatever else he might find to the reproach of their character. Is the subject accusation or defence^ the same course must be adopted ; for, an orator will never undertake to accuse or defend a man, unless he has previously made inquiry into whatever may criminate or justify him. It matters not whether he has to speak of the Athenians, the Lacedemonians, an individual man, a divinity, or of any other subject ; the observation equally holds good : if, in the instance of Achilles, it be his business to counsel, to praise, to censure, to accuse, or to de- fend that hero, he must employ no other means than those which really, or at least apparently, result from the personal consideration of Achilles. If he would blame or praise that chief, he must see what glorious or what censurable actions are to be met with in his life : in defending or accus- ing him, he must review his deeds of justice or injustice: and, in counselling him upon any en- terprise, he must reflect what his interests are, in order to convince him that his undertaking is ad- vantageous, or otherwise. What is here said of Achilles , may be understood of every other 304 A DISSERTATION subject whatever; for instance, of justice, which is a virtue; for, if we would know, whether in reality it be a good or ill, we must have recourse to its peculiar qualities, or to the general nature of good. This being the case, and as from the practice of all those whose business it is to prove a thing by demonstration and argument, acquit them- selves as they may, whether they do so with pre- cision or in a feeble manner, for it is not always in the orator's power to adopt what may seem to him to be good, but that only which is to be met in his subject ; as, I say, the foregoing method is approved of, and pursued by every orator, and is so clear of itself, that reason shows us the impossibility of doing otherwise ; it follows, that, to handle a subject well, it will be in the first place necessary, as has been shown in our Topics, to ex- amine each part of our subject, and to make choice of such proofs as are most appropriate thereto. With respect to unforeseen cases, whero the subject is extemporaneous, the orator should proceed on the same line, as then there will be no necessity of recurring to vague and indefinite proofs, but merely of regarding whatever makes in favour of his subject, and of comprehending the greatest possible number of particulars. The more circumstances of this description he has provided, the more easy will it be for him to prove whatever he wishes ; and the more precise UPON RHETORIC. 305 or approximating to the subject his allegations may be, the more appropriate and less common will be his proofs. By a common proof, I mean, for instance, " praising Achilles, as being a man whom birth has elevated to the rank of a demi- god ! or as having been of the number of those heroes who were present at the siege of Troy ;" because, in reality, such circumstances are com- . mon to him with several others : so that whoever would eulogize Achilles thus, would say nothing more to his advantage than if he had only spoken of Diomede. On the other hand, I call those things particular and appropriate proofs, which have happened to no other than the individual person : such as " having slain Hector, the most 'valiant of ihe Trojans^ " having slain the renowned Cyc- nus, who, by reason of being till then invulne- rable, singly prevented the debarkation of the en- tire Grecian army;" " having entered very young into that war/' and " having persevered to its termination, though the individual were merely a volunteer." Here then we have given one of the places whereby to consult upon the choice of enthy- mems and arguments in general ; it is, however, so highly important as to hold the first rank among those which are included in the province of topics. $06 A DISSERTATION The Elements of Enthymems. By element I mean the same thing as that which is understood by the term place. Of en- thymems there are two kinds : the one, which proves that a thing is or is not ; the other, which merely refutes. Both are as nearly different from each other, as in LOGIC the argument called eJenchus is from the syllogism. The demonstra- tive, or proving enthymem, always founds its consequences upon premises which have been granted, and which pass as true. The refuting enthymem, on the contrary, infers every absurd consequence, and solely assembles propositions which are self-contradictory. With regard to these elements or places of enthymem, it might be said, " that it is a trite and exhausted subject ; since we have already laid down whatever places are necessary for almost every thing in each of the divisions of the art : for, each has its sepa- rate and select propositions. If any proof be wanting in relation to the matter of either of the three kinds, or any enthymem which it might be necessary to employ, they will be found under each separate head, as we have assigned propositions in proof of a thing being good or lad, honourable or censurable, just or unjust ; and not only so, but have likewise given places upon manners, passions, and habits. It remains for UPON RHETORIC. 307 us, then, to speak of all these places generally, but in quite a different manner from what we have hitherto clone, it being our design, in pro- portion as we examine them, to point out such as are of service alone in refutation, and also those which serve in proof. And not only this, but also to make known whatever places there are of false enthymems, that is, of such as merely have the appearance and the name, because they are even deficient in the syllogistic quality. After we have shown this, we shall de&canf upon solutions, and explain what is meant by object and instance, together with the manner of using them, in opposing any enthymem or argument whatever. CHAP. XXIII. Places for Enthymems of Truth and Proof. One of the places proper for the establishment of a thing by reasoning, and for providing an enthymem of demonstration and proof, is the argument by contraries. Here we must observe whether one contrary be not contained in its opposite, that is to say, whether one does not U 2 30S A DISSERTATION necessarily flow from the other. If the reason* ing by contraries take place, it will be a service- able argument to him who proves; if it does not, it will only be proper for the man who refutes. For instance, it would be good reasoning to say, t( that to command one's passions, and to lead a regular life, is a very advantageous thing : for, there is nothing more noxious or injurious, than being servilely attached to one's pleasures, or being blindly led by one's passions." Or agairk, as we read in the oration called the Messenian, e many, as may be seen by reference to our TOPICS under the head Orthos. The tenth place arises out of the use of division in argument ; for example : " It is certain that whoever offers a wrong or injury to another, is incited thereto by some one of three motives : either this, that, or the other. As in thus assert- ing : Now it is impossible that my client could do A DISSERTATION what is alleged, from either of the two first mo- tives ; and as to the last, our very adversary does not advance it." The eleventh place is, when we make use of induction ; as in the oration entitled Peparethias, in which the question is, whether one should refer to the mother, in order to know the father of a child. The orator maintains, by the follow- ing induction, the usage in the affirmative being universally practised and received. " For," said he, " at Athens, when MantJi'ms the orator as- serted, that the child which was fathered upon him, was not his ; immediate reference was made to the mother's decision. The same thing oc- curred at Thebes, when Ismenias and Stilbo dis- puted the rights of parentage over ThessaUcus ; for, when Dodonis, the child's mother, declared Is- menias to be the father, the decision was made absolute.'* Another example may be found in Theodectes oration, in defence of the law. " If : .t be true,'* said the orator, " that people do not willingly confide in a man's treatment of his own horses, when it is known that he has been inattentive to those of others ; and if no man is disposed to intrust the guidance of his bark to a man who has already run several aground ; in a word, if it ,be so in all other matters, surely a person would do wrong to intrust the care of his health with men who served only to destroy that of others UPON RHETORIC. 319 confiding in their skill." We may equally instance Alcidavuis method of proving that learned men are honoured and esteemed by the whole world. " For," said he, " the Parians paid particular honours to the poet Archilochus t though he defamed them. The Chians did the same with respect to Homer, though he was not a native of their isle. The Mitileneans honoured Sappho, though but a woman : and the Lacede- monians themselves, contemptuously as they treated literature, were so struck with Chi/o's merit, that, in order to confer the highest honour on him, they admitted him a member of their senate. Italy has paid homage to Pythagoras; and the people of Lampsacus, though Anaxagoras was a stranger, not only erected a magnificent monument to him after his death, but to this day hold his memory in the highest veneration." Another example of induction may be found in the following proof, " that those states are happy wherein philosophers rule." For upon this head it is remarkable, " that the Athenian people have never been more prosperous, nor has their republic been more flourishing, than while go- verned by the laws of Solon ; nor the Lacedemo- nians, so long as they precisely observed the code of Lycurgus. And that Theles began only to be happy, when philosophers obtained authority and high functions in the state." The tivelfth place arises from the use of what has 32O A DISSERTATION leen adjudged. For instance, in showing, " either that the same thing has already been adjudged, something similar to it, or quite the contrary ; and this particularly, if it be found that the whole world at all times has judged so; if not the whole, the greater part, or the more enlightened." Or again, we may instance it in showing, "that the thing is the same as has been already decided upon by the judges whom we address, by those whose sentiments they adopt in any thing, or whom they would not venture to contradict. Of this latter description are their sovereigns, and all others with whom, from respectful propriety, they ab- stain from appearing to disagree ; such as the gods, fathers, masters, and so forth." Hereupon Autocles took his stand, in compelling Menexides to appear upon his plea in the Areopagus, when the latter wished to except against the jurisdic- tion; " What ! gentlemen,'* said he, " if goddesses (meaning the Eumenides or Furies) did not think it unworthy of them to appear before this august tri- bunal and submit to its judgments; what reasons, I say, can induce Menexides not to comply with the same thing ?" Let us also attend to the reason- ing of Sappho, when she pretended to prove that death is an evil. " So true it is," said she, " that the gods themselves (not one of whom has ever wished to die) have thought it so." It is also in point to adduce the reply which Aristippus one day made to Plato, upon hearing him say some- UPON RHETORIC. 321 thing, which, in his opinion, savoured of self- sufficiency: " I allow what you have asserted, "ob- served he, " but our friend has never said so," meaning thereby Socrates, who had been the mas- ter of both, and whose system was totally remote from arrogance or presumption. We may equally quote the conduct of Hegesippus, who, having gone to consult the oracle of Delphos, having previously obtained a response from that of Qlym- $2is, demanded of Apollo, " Whether it were possible for him (Apollo) to be of a contrary opinion to that of his father (Jupiter), respecting the difficulty which he (Hegesippus) was going to propose ?" as if he believed it would be inde- cent in Apollo and injurious to Jupiter, if the former were to entertain opinions opposite to those which had already been declared by the latter. Jsocrates makes use of a similar proof re- specting the character of Helen, whom he asserts to have been notably virtuous. " Because," says he, " Theseus gave that opinion of her." What the orator has said to the advantage of Paris, is from the same source of proof ; " For,'* said he, " he must have been an excellent man, when three goddesses selected him as the umpire of their dispute.'* What Isocrates has said of Eva- goras, equally falls within the explanation of this argument. " He must have been certainly an honourable man, when Conon in the hour of his disgrace, and the wreck of his fortunes, preferred 322 A DISSERTATION repairing to his house, before that of any other great man among his friends." The thirteenth place of proof is derived from taking a thing in its parts, as may be seen in my Topics, in that part wherein I have inquired into the species of motion attributable to the soul. I therein said, " If the soul in itself be merely a simple motion, it must of necessity be some one motion, or ano- ther." We may find another example of this ar- gument in the defence of Socrates, drawn up by Theodectus, wherein he shows that great man not to have been at all reproachable in matters of re- ligion, and altar- worship : " For," said he, " which of the temples has he ever profaned? Or what god, among those who are honoured by the commonwealth, has he ever refused to adore ?" By reason of all things being so constructed by nature, that they are invariably liable to con- sequences of either good or evil, we find that there is a fourteenth place, which considers every thing in its sequel, showing that it is either good or bad, by its ordinary accompaniment. This place is of such important use, that it is equally appropriate to the three kinds of rheto- ric. For instance, because on one side science has the misfortune of rendering its possessors most commonly envied, and, on the other, has the advantage of giving an insight into an in- finity of wondrous things; and as, without it, it UPON RHETORIC. is impossible to attain to wisdom ; we may draw the two following opposite conclusions: 1. " Then no man should be learned, or ad- dicted to study, sin^e no man should give occa- sion for his being envied." Or, 2. " Then a man ought to study and endea- vour to be learned, since wisdom is so necessary, as that a man is miserable and contemptible with- out it." This place forms almost the entire of Califpus's Rhetoric; except that he includes some particular matters of which we have hitherto spoken, such as possibility and impossibility, &c." The fifteenth place, which is pretty similar to the foregoing, is, " When of two opposite effects flowing from the same thing, we must make use of both in order to persuade a person to do, or not to do, that same thing ;" and this equally on both sides, in the same manner as we have re- marked in the preceding place. Between this and the former place, however, there is so far a difference, that, in the foregoing one, things are opposed as they are found, and in the latter it is always necessary that whatever is opposed should be so perfectly, and be quite contrary to its oppo- site. As, for instance, when the priestess wished to deter her son from the profession of oratory, she made use of this reasoning : " Either you will speak for justice or against it. If you speak for it, mankind will injure you and hate you; and on the other hand, if you advocate injustice, you will x 2 324 A DISSERTATION make enemies of the gods, and draw down their wrath upon you." Another person added, " For this reason you should not obey the wishes of your mother; for, if you be the advocate of jus- tice, you will be the friend of Heaven ; and if you defend injustice, mankind will love and fa- vour you.'* This mode of reasoning nearly ac- cords with the meaning of the vulgar proverb, " to buy oil and salt." It is also called,. " re- versing the argument;" for instance, when it hap- pens, as it does in what we have quoted, that two things being contraries, and equally followed by good and evil ; the evil and the good are equally opposed in contrariety to each other. As man- kind in general dissemble so far, that the heart most frequently belies the mouth, and that the object of their public praise is not that of their private encomium ; for instance, in society, they assume the mask of propriety, and pretend to have no esteem but for justice and honour- able sentiments, while in their souls they are self-interested and grovelling ; for this reason, I say, it will be necessary to build a sixteenth place of proof, and to show sometimes, that a man's actions and sentiments do not correspond with his professions. This is one of the most powerful engines whereby to beat down extraor- dinary sentiments, and throw ridicule upon the man who would pass as being more virtuous or perfect than others. UPON RHETORIC. 325 The seventeenth place consists in seeing, if, front what has been said, other things should not proportion- ately follow? Thus, Iphicrates, perceiving all pos- sible violence used to compel his son, who was yet a child, to perform the duties of a citizen, and bear his part of the expenditure as well as others, merely because he had arrived at manly stature, said : " If you assert that great children must pass for grown men ; you must equally declare, that henceforward small men shall be considered as children.'* Again, Theodeetus, in his oration in defence of the law, says, " If, gentlemen, you have, with reason, believed in the necessity 0f reward- ing the good services and fidelity of certain fo- reigners, who were in your soldiery, as Strabax and Charidemus, whom you have honoured with the rank and privileges of citizenship; for this reason, I adjure you to punish, or shamefully ex- pel from your territories, all those who have failed in their duties, or badly conducted themselves." The eighteenth place is, when the same effect flows from Lwo different causes, to show that there is no difference in the nature of those causes. Hence Xenophanes asserted, " That there was no less imprety in saying that the gods have a day of birth, than to say that they will some day die ; since, let the assertion be taken as it may, it assigns some period when there will be no gods.'* In a word, whatever follows from one or other of those two causes, may be taken as one single and x 326 A DISSERTATION v_- similar effect, as may be seen in the defence of Socrates : " My lords, the decision which you will this day give, involves a matter of the high- est importance, because the question is not sim- ply relevant to the person, but to the profession of Socrates, and absolutely is a question whether it be of advantage to apply one's self to philoso- phy.*' Hence al c o a person might say, (f That to give land and water, is to part with one's li- berty * ;" or, " that to permit ourselves to be in- eluded in the articles of a common peace, is to re- ceive the law from another, and do what he com- mands." The use of either of these reasonings shoulcl be in proportion to its fitness for our cause. The nineteenth place is founded upon the whimsi- cality of our choice, which causes us at one time to wish for what we did not before, and vice versa. The following enthymem will serve as an example : " Gentlemen, if, during the whole period of our banishment, we have had arms in our hands, bravely fighting for our restoration ; what ! when we this day see ourselves restored, shall it be said that we would be cowardly enough to pro- duce a self-dereliction, and be the instruments of our own banishment, through the fear of engag- ing in combat 2" For, from this reasoning it appears, that at one period the recited individuals * This was the usual phraseology of the Persian king's de- mands of any people, when he required the sovereignties both of land and sea, UPON RHETORIC. 327 preferred to fight and noblv die, rather than re- main in perpetual exile : and, on the contrary, that, at another period, they preferred a return to exile, and submission to their enemies, before en- countering the danger of battle. The twentieth place is founded upon alleging, that whatever merely might have been the cause of a thing existing or being done, though it equally might not be so, was, however, the real cause. As if, for instance, a man had given a thing to another, and thereupon we wished to maintain, " That such a thing would not have been given to him, but with the intention of afflicting him more by depriving him of it." Hence a poet has said : " Fortune no sooner wears the mask of friend, With those who greatly through her means ascend, Than, traitress-like, she whirls them from on high, Consign'd to unregretted infamy." Or as Anl'tyho in his Meleager says, " The daring youthful band inactive stood, Nor fek jrnbitious of the monster's blood ; With Mciaager's view their vows increase, That his success might form the boast of Greece" Theodectus, in his Ajax, furnishes us with a si- milar example, where he says : " If Diomed sometimes selected Ulysses as his comrade in an important enterprise, we are not to imagine that it was because he preferred him to others, nor in order to testify his esteem for x 4 J28 A DISSERTATION him, but merely to do himself an honour, and to have no rival who could share in his glory," It might be that this was his true and only motive. The twenty-first place, which is in great use upon forensic questions, and matters of delibe- ration, consists in faying attention to such things as tend either to finish the confirmation of a person in his design, or to divert him from it; and also to those motives which are ordinarily the cause of our doing or avoiding a thing : for, all these matters are of such a quality, as that when they seem to favour an enterprise, a person entertains no doubt but that he should apply himself to it. For example, in knowing " when such an undertaking is pos- sibly or easily done : when a return of advantage is made to the agent or to his friends, or damage and loss to his enemies : in fine, when there is a great deal more to be gained than to be lost.'* In fact, upon matters of persuasion, these are the sole reasons which are alleged; as their contraries are for dissuasion. In forensic subjects, what serves for persuasion, will serve for accusation ; and what serves for dissuasion, will equally an- swer for defence. This place is the most remark- able part of the art which has been transmitted to us through the treatises of Pamphilusand Calip- pus. , . The twenty -second place exists when one brings in $roof such things as are seemingly true, hit which UPON RHETORIC. Are however incredible ; because, if they neither ac~ tually existed^ nor were in a state of doing so soon t they would not be believed. Now this will cause the greater credit to be given them, as one be- lieves things only for two reasons cither because they are really or apparently probable. If, then, the things of which we speak, incredible though they be, and repugnant to probability, do not cease to be believed, we must take it for granted that it is merely because they are Irue, since, of themselves, they are neither probable nor capable of inducing persuasion. An example of this oc- curred when Androcles Pithteus rose up against a certain law; for, seeing that the people murmured and took it ill when he said, " that of all the laws which they enacted, there was not one which did not need another to correct it ;" he added, " They should not be surprised, for that the fish which were taken from the very sea stood in need of salt." Now, there is nothing so repugnant to reason, or so little like probability, as that a fish, which has been bred in the sea, should need salt: and equally so to say, that olives want oil, as it is difficult to belie ve, that what produces oil should want it. The twenty-third place, which is only appro- priate to refutation, consists in paying attention t such things as are incompatible, and marked by con- tradiction. For this purpose, it will be necessary A DISSERTATION to examine every circumstance, whether of time, action, or words, and whether any thing falsifying or contradictory be to be met therein. This may in the first place be done with regard to the person of our adversary. For example, " Gentlemen, he has told you, that he loves you, and is inclined for your good ; but I should like to know upon what basis is founded the affection of a man, who, in common with the thirty conspirators against your liberties, has done every thing in his power to enslave you." We may, in the second place, recur to this in our own person, as; "Gentle- men, he has said that I am addicted to litigation and chicanery ; however, he has not been able to show that I have ever come into court, or that through my means any person has been brought to trial." Finally, this mode might be recurred to, conjointly in our own person, or that of our adversary. For instance, in this manner : committed, to turn it equally to the pur- poses of accusation or defence. Carcinus, in his Medea, represents the accusers of that princess to allege, in foundation of their charge, of her hav- ing murdered her children, that no one knew what VPON RHETORIC. 53J became of them \ for, in fact, the fault which Me- dea did commit, was, her having caused the de- parture of her children without the knowledge of any person. The princess is represented as answering thus in her defence : " That she was cruelly wronged in being accused of such an act ; for, if she were to murder any one, it would have been Jason rather than her own children; and that, even if she were reduced to the extremity of which she stood accused, it ought not to form the principal ground of charge or convic- tion against her, as she ought rather to be ar- raigned for not having murdered the father, after having dispatched the children." This place in particular, and this description of enthymem, is the only thing taught by Theodoras in his prin- cipal work upon rhetoric. The twenty-ninth place is, when a person merely confines himself to words 9 and makes use of their derivation. Thus Sophoclet t speaking of a cruel woman named Sidero, says, " Her name accorded with her heart of steel." The use of this place is frequently employed in hymns, and other compositions which are chanted in honour of the gods. Thus, Conon also said of Thrasibulus, " That his name well befitted him, for, he was bold enough to follow the counsels which were given him" Herodocus said as much to Thrasymachus respecting his name, 334 A DISSERTATION upon seeing that he was uncommonly fond of dis- pute ; " You will never," observed he, " be any other than Thrasymachus t so mightily addicted as you are to quarrelling" He likewise made a similar allusion to Polus's name, which implies Co//, because he resembled that animal in his manner of acting. An observation to the same effect was made upon the name of Draco, the lawgiver, on account of his code ; it being said, * e That the laws which he had given, were not those of a man, but of ajierce and cruel dragon" on account of their severity, and the difficulty of observing them. Euripides, in like manner, has this remark against Fenus, in his tragedy of He- cuba : " Her name appropriately begins with the word expressive of folly *." Or as "Ckaremon observed, speaking of Pen- tbeus's name, which seemed to forewarn him of a disaster which should befall him, *'' The name of Pentheus and that of misfortune are combined." So far for the places of enthymem either de- monstrative and proving, or those of simple re- futation. The latter, it is to be observed, should be much more esteemed than the former, as they have the advantage of summing up, and briefly recapitulating things which are self-opposed or contradictory. Contraries are so far peculiar, that, when opposed one to another, there is no- * Aphrodisia, which means ** the foam of the sea.'* UPON RHETORIC. 335 thing so clear, or easy to be conceived by the auditor. Of all arguments whether demonstra- tive or refutative, those are incomparably the most impressive, which afford a conjecture upon the remaining part, if the commencement be once developed. This should be the effect not of their superficial tenour, or their common matter, but of the orator's art and address. The hearer al- ways feels a lively joy within him, when he per- ceives that he is so intelligent as to conceive things even before they have been ended in the narration. Next after these arguments, the best are such as occasion the mind no delay, and which are comprehended as soon as they are ex- pressed. CHAP. XXIV. Places for false Enthymems, and such as do not apparently prove. As in logic there are some syllogisms which are true, and others only so in appearance, so it is in rhetoric with regard to enthymems, among which, some are found really good, and others merely so in appearance. In fact, every enthymem is nothing 3j A DISSERTATION more than a species of syllogism. Now, with re-* gard to the places of those false, or apparent en- thymcms: the first consists in the diction being so deceitful, that the entire force is comprehended in expressions. This place contains two parts : one (as may be likewise seen in Logic) is, where a man instantly comes to a conclusion without having made any argument ; for instance, thus: " Gentlemen, if neither this nor that be the case, then this and the other must necessarily be.'* Jn matter of enthy- mems, a strong deception is created, by saying things with a certain turn and opposition of man- ner ; for, herein the enthymem most delights, and is most in train towards producing its effect. This sort of deception is pretty nearly what is understood by logicians, under the term " figure of speech." Great assistance, as well as an impression of be- lief, may be given to this argument, by summing up several heads or conclusions of other syllogisms already made, and expressing them in the fol- lowing manner ; " He has saved some, avenged others, and restored the Greeks to liberty." For as each of these heads will already have been proved, it may be imagined that in thus repeat- ing them all at once, something new, which never was before remarked, might be the result. The second part of this captious place, is that which conforms to ambiguity; as if a person, speaking in favour of mice, should say, " That these little animals must be very commendable, and possessed UPON RHETORIC. 337 of something intrinsecally excellent, since the festival of Mysteries, so surpassingly important and solemn, has been named from them : the word mystery being derived of mys, which sig- nifies a mouse." Or, if he had to eulogize a dogi he should put forward the circumstance of a constellation being so named, as also the god Pan, whom Pindar thus addresses in one of his odes : " O, happy thou ! whom the immortals name The dog of the great goddess, &c." Or, again, because the proverb says, " It is a shame neither to have a dog nor a cat in the house*;" to conclude, " that nothing is more honourable and worthy of esteem than a dog." * These are not the exact words of Aristotle, whose terms would not so well apply to what he meant to convey. I have also omitted two examples which are founded upon double meanings, for which there is no reciprocal expression in our language. The first, in praise of Mercury, is derived from the two words, feMMndf and xoa previous effect, particularly in state policy, that people almost reason in no other manner. Thus, Demades> in his accusation of Demosthenes, asserted, " that his government UPON RHETORIC* 343 and system Of policy had been the cause of every disaster which had since befallen the state, because, immediately upon his assumption, a war took place.'* The eighth deceptive place is that which has the defect of not expressing when or how a thing has been done ; as if a man should assert, " that Paris was not blameable for the rape of Helen, because f/e/en had permission of her father to take as a husband him whom she should prefer." Now, it is not true that this right of choice was granted to her for ever, but merely for the time that she should remain unmarried, as the authority of a father over his daughter does not exceed that extent. Again, we may instance this mode of reasoning thus : " That to beat freemen, with- out respecting their' condition, and treating them only as slaves, is an intolerable insolence.'* I say, yes, sometimes, but not always ; for in- stance, when the person who is beaten has been the first offender or aggressor. Furthermore, as in scholastic disputes, and upon matters wherein persons aim rather at the victory than at truth, it commonly happens that the syllogism is captious, and the reason- ing false, by reason of the ninth place, which consists in making no difference between that which is absolutely probable, and what is only conditionally so t and in a certain manner ; for ex- ample, in logic, one sometimes will contend, * 4 344 A DISSERTATION " that whatever is not, really is; for, at least we may be assured, that such a thing is abso- lutely that which is not" And, as also, it is frequently contended, " that one may know that which cannot be known j because, at least, he knows in fact and certainty that such a thing cannot be absolutely known ;" so, I say, it happens in rhetoric, with respect to the enthy- mem ; for, conditional probability is not to be universally understood. dgallio has well ob- served : " As .chance in change doth constantly delight, So probability, with equal right, f Hath many things which sin agaiijet its rules." In fact, it cannot be denied that extraordinary effects frequently happen contrary to all appear- ance. Probability, in this respect, may be con- sidered as extending itself beyond its bounds, so as to be met even in things which have not its quality ; so that there is reason for contending, " that whatever is not of itself probable, does not necessarily cease to be so." This, however, cannot be the case absolutely, or in general cases, but merely in cases of school dispute, where the only thing sought for is an advantage over our competitors. Even in this, however, by neg- lecting to remark certain circumstances, for in- stance, (( on what side," " with respect to whom," " in what place," 8cc. deception is in- UPON RHETORIC. 34$ duced, and the argument becomes captious. It is the same with rhetoric, wherein a person is often mistaken, by supposing, that what is only conditionally probable, is absolutely and unconditionally so. Of such importance did this place appear to Corax, that it is the only thing which he teaches in his book, and wherein he makes the whole arcanum of rhetoric to con- sist ; for, he reasons in the following manner : " Supposing one man to be accused of having beaten another, which he cannot be suspected of having done, either from his infirmity or bodily debility, his defence is already made, as the sub- ject of accusation appears by no means probable. But if, on the contrary, suspicion should alight upon him, by reason of his being stouter than the man who is beaten, the same reason reverts, as it may be said in his defence, that the accusa- tion is absolutely injurious, and contrary to all probability and truth ; because this man who accuses could not doubt, that, being so strong, the other could not fail to have drubbed him : the thing speaking for itself with an air of pro- bability." And not only did he maintain it in such cases, but in every other ; for, he added, " One of two things must be the case : either that the accused is guilty, or thai he is not ; so that, however the matter be considered, the in order to show that some particular ef- fect is great or lit tie y important or trivial \ in the same manner as the goodness or badness t justice or injustice of a thing is proved ; for, the whole is pure mattter of syllogisms and enthymems. Am- plification cannot be considered as the place of an cnthymem any more than such proofs as these latter can. The same judgment will apply to refutathe enthymems ; for, they are of the same species as those which prove. Whoever pretends to refute or solve any argument, has but two ways of accomplishing it ; the one is by proof, and the other by adducing an instance. He acts upon the former method, when he shows the con- trary of his adversary's assertion, as if the latter were to say, " that such a thing has been done;'* and the former should prove, " that it was not," or vice versa : so that there is no difference be- 354 A DISSERTATION tvveen both, as they equally serve the same ends ; and each, upon its respective side, adduces enthy- mems, as well to show that a thing is, as that it is not. With respect to instance, the quality of en- thymem does not accord with it ; for, as we have said in our Topics, to urge an Instance is no- thing more than to give such an opinion upon a matter, as rhat, by such means, a person might know, either that the consequence which has been drawn is not sound, or that some false pro- position has entered into the argument. Thus I believe we have remarked, as far as was necessary, upon the subject of examples, sen- tences, enthymems, in fine, whatever belongs to the manner of conceiving or considering a thing; and this, not only with a view to our capability of selecting all kinds of proofs and arguments, but also to put us in a state of replying to, or solving every thing, which may be alleged in op- position to us. We next come to speak of the only remaining thing to be considered, viz. the order and disposition, or diction, necessary to be ob- served in a discourse. 17PON RHETORIC. 355 BOOK in. CHAP. I. SUMMARY RECAPITULATION. IN every discourse, three things are to be consi- dered, of which, rhetoric must necessarily treat ; viz. 1. " The place whence its proofs are to be derived." 2. " What is to be observed in the matter of elocution ;" and, 3. " How the several parts are to be arrang- ed." Upon the first requisite we have fully and fun- damentally treated. The three sorts of proof have not only been shown, but we have also de- monstrated the reason why there cannot be more* This latter reason arises additionally out of the; fact, that a judge is never persuaded to believe what is said, but for some one of the three follow- ing reasons : " Either because he is moved or prejudiced by some passion ;" " Because he has a good opinion of tic speaker ; M X 2 A DISSERTATION " Or, because what has been asserted has been proved." We have also spoken of enthymems, and shown where they are to be looked for; besides having divided them into two species ; the one, specific and particular to each kind ; and the other called common place, and equally applicable to all the kinds of rhetoric. Our object is now to consi- der elocution ; for, it is not alone sufficient to know what should be said, but it is also expedient to speak with a certain grace and propriety, the rather because it is an additional means of dis- playing the speaker's manners, and impressing a favourable opinion of him. Of ACTION. Brilliant eloquence depends chiefly upon the three following points ; viz. things, words, and action. With respect to the necessary order of these, it has been hitherto observed, as we have in the first place inquired, " What things are capable of persuading ?" And we next examined how these things should be well expressed, and in what arrangement ? The last point, which re- lates to action, and is of high importance, remains to be noticed. It was not until very lately that ac- tion entered into theatrical representations, or the recitations of heroic poems (P0n|w$0?). Before the present day, poets themselves represented their own tragedies ; so that it is not now to be UPON RHETORIC. 357 doubted, but that this is a branch worthy of cul- tivation in rhetoric, as well as in poetry. As to the latter art, many have already blended action with it, and among others, a person named Glan- con of Teos in Ionia. The whole secret of elocution depends upon the voice, in knowing how to use it when ex- pressing the several passions ; for instance, when it is necessary to raise or lower it, or speak in the ordinary and familiar manner ; as also with re- spect to the various tones of sharp, bass, and tenor, as well as number or measure, in order to manage these tones properly in each particular motion. Whoever studies pronunciation, is in the habit of observing three things ; the body, or strength of the voice, its harmony, and its mea- sure. So important is this consideration, that, of all the orators who appear in public, those only bear away the prize who are distinguished for fine pronunciation, and a handsome manner of recit- ing. This is not at all surprising; for, in the same manner as the comedians in theatricals have a considerable advantage over the poets, so it is with those who recite in public. It is the effect of corruption in the age, and exists because re- publics only esteem that with which they are pleased. With respect to action, it is a subject which has never yet been reduced within the compass of art ; and still further, it is not long z 3 * A DISSERTATION since precepts were for the first time given upon the head of elocution, which, to say the most of it, is of no great importance, at least one to which a person should not confine himself. However, though rhetoric itself, if fairly considered, con-^ tains nothing solid, and lies wholly in opinion, yet it should be attended to, not as a thing de- serving our total occupation, but as of necessity, in the manner we have just seen. It would in- deed be a desirable thing if a discourse were not to be frittered away upon so many idle modes of address as is commonly the case, since the only method of pleasing we should seek therein, ought to consist in avoiding excess in displeasing, or the contrary ; for it is but matter of justice to adhere to one's subject, and to labour strongly in laying open the truth ; every thing else, with the exception of proof, being useless. However, as I have said, it is the misfortune of the present day, that those modes of address carry with them a considerable effect, because every thing is per- verted to the hearer's understanding. Some exception may, nevertheless, be made in favour of elocution, as it is in some degree necessary to the science in which it is of importance to express one's self in a certain manner. Scientific elocution does not however approach the excess of rhetorical elocution. The entire expression of the latter is mere fantasy, and has only been invented to accommodate the hearer's taste. So foreign is its language to that of sci- UPON RHETORIC. 3^9 cnce, that it cannot be used in teaching geo- metry. Reverting to the subject of action, it is certain that so soon as it shall be reduced within the rules of art, it will produce the same effect as theatrical representations do. And though it is not every day seen, yet it cannot be doubted, since there are already many authors to be met with who have attempted it in some manner, as Thrasimachus in his book upon the Means of ex- citing Pity. Action and elocution are so far different, that the former borrows every thing from nature and genius, and very little from art ; whereas the latter borrows every thing from art, and very little from genius. Hence the rea- son why, at the present day, we see two classes of successful orators, some carrying away the palm of elocution, and others of action. Every discourse which is committed to paper, has this peculiarity, provided its diction be fine, that there is much more value attached to the expression than the thought. Of ELOCUTION. The first persons who gave themselves the trouble of cultivating elocution, were the poets; for, order and reason rendered it necessary that they should commence it; since there is nothing so proper to aid a poet's design, which is imitation, as words, which we know are the living images of things z 4 30 A DISSERTATION Of all the parts which nature has bestowed upon man, none is more adapted for the purposes of imi- tation than the voice; whence it happens, that, in consequence of elocution, we have seen other arts appear, which are merely subservient to repre- sentation, such as the comedian's art, and that of reciting heroic verse, with some others. Among all the poets of repute, thoseheldahigher rank in estimation, whose expression was rich, or whose versification was smooth ; as to the sense, it was mere silliness. Hence, also, poetic diction first crept into use among orators ; for instance, the style of Gorgias \ and it was so far pleasing, that, even to this day, the ignorant and the taste- less imagine, that the man who uses it performs, wonders. So far, however, from this being the real and necessary case, prose has a diction quite opposite to that of poetry. What has hap- pened in this latter art not long ago, clearly justi- fies this assertion; as, among all the theatrical poets of the present day, not one makes use of the same diction which was formerly in vogue. For, in the first place, tetrameter verses have been altered into iambics, because the latter are more nearly allied to prose. In like manner, all those words have been abandoned, which were out of the or- dinary manner of speaking, thus omitting what before served .to embellish their diction. The theatrical writers have been followed in this sys- tem, by the composers of hexameter verse. To, imitate the poets then in this respect, would be UPON RHETORIC. 361 ridiculous, as they have themselves forsaken that manner. And it is clear, that we need not pre- cisely descant upon every species of elocution, but on that alone which is consistent with our subject, and appropriate to oratory. In our Poetics we have already spoken of poetic diction. OF DICTION. CHAP. II. On fine ELOCUTION* In consequence of the reflectioes we have in- dulged in, let us suppose ' that the beauty of elocution consists in its being self-intelligible and clear;" for, every discourse which is not under- stood, works no effect upon an auditory. Elo- cution should neither be too lofty, nor too humble, but adapted to the particular nature of the subject. I allow that though the use of poetic, diction will restrain us from the meanness which we censure, yet it will lead us into another excess, arising from a mode of expression not at all- Adapted to prose. Appropriate words contribute more than any thing else to render a discourse clear and intelli- gible ; what takes from its humility, and orna- ments it, is the use of those terms which we 362 A DISSERTATION have mentioned in our Poetics. It is certain that an alteration, and in some manner a disguise of words, gives a different appearance, and a majesty, to diction. As we experience a certain feeling upon beholding strangers, which we do not at the sight of such as are familiar to our view, so it is with diction. For this reason, then, it will he requisite to give a little disguise to, and, as it were, to clothe in a foreign dress, one's manner of speaking ; because, whatever is foreign appears admirable, and whatever is admirable confers plea- sure and satisfaction. Versification possesses this advantage completely, as many points are to be met with in it productive ot this effect, and which are also well adapted thereto ; because the sub- ject of verse, whether a person or thing, is incom- parably more noble and lofty than that of prose, wherein there are fewer occasions for introducing these things. Now, in order to show that the diction of a discourse should necessarily be pro- portioned to the subject, we need only observe, that even in poetry, lofty as it is, propriety does not always permit it to be sustained by grandeur of expression ; for, it would not be pertinent, in repre- senting the language of a young boy, or of a ser- vant, to employ the finest terms in the language ; and the same with respect to inconsiderable things. It should be in the same manner with prose, wherein this same fitness requires a thing TO be done in a higher degree at one time, and in a lesser at another; one time to contract, and at another to extend, in UPON RHETORIC. 363 proportion as the subject will permit ; but, in such a manner, however, that the artifice shall be concealed, and that, instead of appearing studied, we seem to speak naturally. The one method is proper for persuasion ; the other produces a con- trary effect. In fact, when the hearer perceives a studied manner, he holds himself on his guard, for fear of being surprised, placing no less distrust in a discourse of this nature than he would in adul- terated wines. It might be said, that, between both modes, there is as wide a difference as be- tween Theodorus, that famous comedian, and his cotemporaries, in point of voice ; for, his is so na- tural, and yet deceptive, that it seems as if the person whom he represented spoke rather than the actor himself; whereas each of his fellow* actors used a feigned and constrained voice. The true method of deceiving thus, and yet conceal- ing the artifice, consists in choosing such words as are most in vogue, as Euripides, the first who found out and discovered this secret to others, has done. > \ Of METAPHORS. As every discourse is composed df nothing but nouns and verbs, and as there are so many kinds of nouns as we have already remarked in our Poetics; for this reason, the orator should avoid making use of as seldom, and in as few places as he can, botfc 364 A DISSERTATION foreign words, i.e. borrowed from other languages, as well as those of feigned or double meaning. We shall shortly hereafter mention the occasions when they may be used. The reason which for- bids their general use is, that such words alter the common manner of speaking, in too great a de- gree, and disguise it beyond what is requisite. This is not the case with words which are appro- priate and in use, nor with metaphors, which are alone useful, and adapted to prose. There is in fact no person, who, in familiar conversation, will not employ metaphors, as well as words, which are proper, and in use. Thus it may be seen, that if a person knows how to make a right use of those terms, he will not only convey into his expression something striking and extraordi- nary, but will likewise so cover the artifice, that it will not seem to be a laboured thing, and it will have the additional benefit of appearing clear ; which are three conditions, in which consists the most finished oratorical elocution. Of all the words which enter into prose, it may be observed, that equivocal words are most in use ,3mong sophists, because therein they place if they contain antithesis^ for example : " That which was a peace to all others, those people regarded as the finest opportunity of making war on them in particular/' In this ex- ample, the word peace is opposed to that of war. In the second place, this grace may be met in words, if metaphorically arranged, provided such metaphor be neither too far sought, because it would theri be difficult to be understood; nor too common, as it would cease to affect. Finally, a grace is observable when the diction is energetic, and sets the thing before our eyes ; for whatever is represented in action, is much better seen, and affects much more than what is not acted. In order to give spirit to what is said, three things are requisite : metaphor, antithesis, and ener- gy, otherwise painting. However, as there are four sorts of metaphors, it will be proper to se- UPON RHETORIC. 409 lect those which are analogical; as being the finest, and in the greatest esteem. Of this qua- lity is Pericles s metaphor : " That the loss of so many valiant youths in the last battle, was as serious to the state as the retrenchment of spring would be to the year :" or, as Septimus said in favour of the Lacedemonians, in order to preserve their city, " That such a wrong should not be done as to deprive Greece of an eye." The same spirit is to be observed in Cephisodotits's re- mark upon Chares, whom he saw endeavouring strenuously to render up an account of his admi- nistration to the Athenians, though the Olynthian war yet continued : not being able to en- dure such injustice, he spoke thus : " That it was a fine time, situated as affairs were; and keeping the people as if in a furnace , to wish for an op- portunity of making up that account :" or, as the same orator said when he wished to incite the Athenians to pass into Eulcea for the purpose of forage, " That the decree of Miltiades must pro- duce its effect." A similar metaphor is that of Iphicrales, when the Athenians concluded a peace J The beauty of the metaphor consists in this point, that as people, shut up in a furnace, give themselves little trouble about any thing else than their means of escaping, so the people .of Athens, embarrassed as they were by the Olynthian war, could not pay the requisite attention to such an account, as they were busied in devising means of extricating themselves from that war. 4IO A DISSERTATION with the people of Epidaurus> and their allies ; he said in a rage, " That they may pile up their arms and think no more of war, since they had deprived their army of provisions." The same is to be seen in what Pilhelaus called the famous Athenian vessel named Paralos, " The club of the people :" and of the metaphor by which the city of Sestos is named the granary of the Pyr criminals were sent for pu- nishment to the galleys in the same manner as individuals send their offending slaves to the mill *. Or, again, as JEsion, speaking of the Athenian ar- dour in taking up arms against Sicily , and of the great number of men who embarked upon that expedition : *' That they had spread their city into Sicily .-" This not only contains a metaphor, but paints tkc subject to the eye. It is the same with the following : " So that Greece cried aloud." As also with respect to what Cephisodutus said to the Athenians on account of their seditious assemblies ; " They ought to take of the criminal were so straitly confined, as to preclude their motion. * I have here passed over the expression used by Diogenes t when he reproached the Athenians with drunkenness, calling their taverns, Attica Phiditia. The neatness of this metaphor con- sists in understanding the word Phiditia^ which means those so ber public Lacedemonian feasts which were of frequent institu- tion. Hence, it is easy to see the analogy ; for, what the Phiditia were to the Lacedemonians, the taverns were to the Athenians ; the difference is in the commendable sobriety and temperance of the one, and the censurable excess and debauch of the other. 412 A DISSERTATION care, that each meeting-da} 7 should not be a day of battle." Isocrates said something nearly si- milar of those who ran so eagerly to the public, assemblies. In the funeral oration pronounced by Lysias is the following fine passage, in point with our other examples : " that Greece may with reason go and weep prostrate over the tombs of those who died on the field of Salamis, since her liberty was' buried with the valour of those illustrious he- roes.** If he had merely said, " that Greece had cause to weep over their tombs, since her valour was buried with so many valiant men," it would be a metaphor, and even a representa- tion to the eye ; but in the former passage, by opposing liberty to valour, an antithesis is pro- duced, which heightens its grace and expres- sion. We may also adduce what was once said by Iphicrates : ft Gentlemen, the discourse which I undertake will open a road across the great actions of Chares" The metaphor is so much finer, as it is founded upon an ana- logy ', besides that the word across represents the thing as if it were seen. It would be the same to say, " that, in order to get out of one danger, we should call another to our aid." Lycolcon, in his defence of Chabriatt made use of the fol- lowing interrogation : " What, gentlemen ! will you pay no respect to this bronze statue, which seems now to intercede in his favour, and UPON RHETORIC. 413 demand his pardon at your hands ?" This, at the time it was spoken, was a fine metaphor, though, at another period, it would be good for nothing; and it also hlended picture with me- taphor : in fact, Chabrias he'mg in danger of his life, the orator spiritedly feigned the request of his statue, which was in the presence of the assembly, to the foregoing effect ; thus giving animation to a thing which was itself inanimate. And again, when speaking of the same sta- tue, and of some others, he said, " that they formed the (rue history of Athens > wherein might be found an account of whatever distinguished act was performed in the state." We meet with the following passage in lsocrates\ " Those people are every day studying, by every possible method, to become more stupid and ignorant than they were." The word study is here me- taphorically applied ; for, otherwise, it is never sed but in a good sense, and properly means, the care which a person takes to increase the advantages he possesses, and to become every day more perfect. It is also a fine metaphor to say, " that the understanding of man is a torch which the Deity has lighted up within his soul, in order to guide him through life ;" for, both the thing itself, and that which it is compared ; to. are made to enlighten. The following is ' C3 C3 an equally ingenious passage: " By (his peace, gentlemen, we shall not put an end to the war, 414 A DISSERTATION but procrastinate it.** The two words, procras- tinate and peace, as it is understood by Isocrates, are both applied to the future. It is, in like manner, a happy mode of expression to say, '* that treaties of peace are trophies more glo- rious to a state, than those which are gained in war ; for, the latter are, in general, merely founded upon some slight advantage, or trivial success, in an engagement ; whereas, pacific treaties disarm an enemy, and never can exist without bringing war to a thorough termina- tion." This metaphor is just ; for, a treaty of peace on our side, and a trophy, are equally marks of victory. Finally, it would be a good metaphor to say, " that states undergo no trivial punishment, in committing such acts as give them a bad reputation." The word punishment is by so much the more applicable, as it pro- perly means a certain damage which is done with justice. Thus, have we shown, that the principal grace of diction consists in metaphors of ana logy, and pictural representation. UPON RHETORIC. 415 CHAP. XI. Of ENERGY and PICTURE in SPEAKING. We now come to what is necessary, in order to represent things by language, as if they really appeared before our eyes. Every expression, in the first place, which marks the action, will pos- sess this quality together with that of energy. Thus, to say simply of a good man " that he is a firm square, and an immovable cube, which al- ways rests upon the same base," is certainly me- taphorical, since the two marked expressions make known a theory which is perfect in its con- dition ; however, there is nothing in such phrase- ology which is energetic, or marks the action. These qualities may be instanced thus : lt Nofc a man of my age, and broken down as I am, but a man in the vigour and flower of his age." Or, again, if we should say of a man, " He is a true horse let loose." Or, as Euripides says, " The Greeks^ without delay, now darted forth." Iphig. in AuL For the word dart both marks the action and constitutes a metaphor. In several places, Homer, by the help of meta- phor, gives life to things inanimate. And in fact, 416 A DISSERTATION to give action to a thing not possessing it, is pe- culiarly graceful, and always held in esteem, as in the following lines, where Homer represents that troublesome stone which Sisyphus could not roll forward without its again recoiling : " Though to the summit it has now attain'd, And the poor wretch his every nerve has strain'd, The stubborn rock rolls back, defeating what he gain'd." Odyss. 1 1 . The same poet, speaking of an arrow which had been discharged, says, " Forth flew the arrow from the sounding bow." Iliad 13. And again, of the same instrument, " Impatient to arrive, and strike its aim." Ibid. As also, "While the fix'd lances bristling from the ground, Seem'd breathing blood and carnage all around." Ibid. ii. In another passage are the following lines : " The hostile dart which thirsted for his blood, Transpierc'd his side with fury, as he stood." Iliad \ 5. As the poet, in all these examples, has spoken of things as if they were really animated; so it UPON RHETORIC. 417 seems as if they acted of themselves, or tended to some action. The word stubborn, which is ap- plied to the stone, and the epithet of thirsty t applied to the dart, as well as all the other epi- thets, imply so many actions which proceed from things having life. The poet, with his peculiar skill, knew how to use them metaphorically, in an appropriate manner, on account of the analogy which is to be found therein ; for it may with truth be said, that what the stone does with re- gard to Sisyphus, the stubborn man does with re- gard to the person whom he thwarts. The same poet does not fail to do the same thing in his finest comparisons, which are drawn from inanimate objects ; as thus : " The winding billows, white with foartJ, and hoarse, Recede, and flow again, impetuous in their course." Iliad l$. Homer is peculiar in animating and giving ac- tion to whatever he describes, and with reason j for, as poetry is purely imitative, so there rs nothing more proper for representing a perfect imitation than action. In order that a metaphor be good, as we have already observed, it should be drawn from things which approximate, provided they be not too well known, but almost in the same manner as in phi- losophy, when seeking for some resemblance* 418 A DISSERTATION It appertains solely to persons possessing a depth of mind to seek a resemblance in remote things: as for instance, when ArcTiytus main- tained, " That there was no difference between an arbiter and an altar, because both served as an asylum to the distressed.'* Or again, as if we should say, " that a ship at anchor and a pot- hanger are the same as to use ; because one is made to hold by an upper direction, and the other by a lower one." Or if, in speaking of cities, it should be said, " that they may be equalled.'* This is indeed finding a resemblance in remote things, by so transposing the word equal, and mak- ing it pass from the consideration of surface to that of power and authority. Upon the whole, the greater number of appropriate and spirited expressions depend upon metaphor, as, well as upon a certain skilful mode of deception, whereby the mind is surprised into the act of taking one thing for another ; because, by this deception, it ac- knowledges to have learned something more evi- dently, as it seems that it was quite the contrary of what it at first imagined: for example, if the mind were thus to soliloquize : " Really it must be thus understood, and I have been mistaken in consider- ing it otherwise." Those apothegms will be the most graceful which cause things to be understood quite contrary to their literal signification: such as the following observation of Stesichorus, to theZ/o- j in order to deter them from entering upon a 4 UPON RHETORIC. 49 war: " If you resolve upon it, the grasshoppers will soon chirp upon the bare ground." Well-formed enigmas are also very pleasing, for similar reasons ; for, besides their conveying the knowledge of a thing, which we were not before acquainted with, they are also metaphorical. There is in like man- ner a gracefulness in the method which Theodorus teaches, viz. that of saying twutl things. This is the case, when what a person says is sufprising, and as it unfolds itself, when it turns out contrary to expectation, as may be seen in ridicule, if a word be altered never so little. All kinds of raillery, founded upon any allusion, produce a similar effect ; for, it is deceptive even in verse ; because what is said there, is nothing leas than the hearer first thought or imagined would be said, as in the following line : " In his ranks were mules, obedient to the spur *.'* A person would not expect to hear of such a description of mules, but rather, perhaps, would imagine, that the words conveyed the meaning of some kind of shoe or sandal. If we express things thus, they should be instantly understood, or they are of no avail. Graceful allusion consists not in saying what is * The original Greek words convey eith.er the meaning of the word sandal, or mules who obey the heels. D D 2 A DISSERTATION apparently expressed, but what the word, upon which the allusion is founded, means. We shall instance this in what was once said in raillery by Theodoras, to a certain instrumental musician named Nicon: "GpotTTsi 0-5." It would at first seem that we should literally interpret it, " He troubles himself." Herein, however, is the deception ; for quite a contrary meaning is at- tached to it. The expression pleased those who understood it, namely, because this musician was the son of a Thracian woman, who was a slave. It is the same with this allusion, BaAtTauroy ITfpo-ftu*. The application of an allusion should be just in both its meanings. Equivocal words are also graceful. Thus with respect to the word Apx^, which signifies command as well, as beginning, it has been said, TWV KUKUV," &C. *' The command or empire of the sea was not the origin or beginning of all those misfortunes which befell the ^Athenians, as is pretended, be- cause they succeeded in their maritime enter- prises." Again, as Isocrates has employed the word against the Lacedemonians, when he said, /i Hotel, Ctxyv SlVOtl TWV * The meaning of this is not to be found in any translator of, or commentator upon, the \vork. We know that the word n^o-a/ is derived of rc-EpQw, to ravage or destroy, and that the allusion is probably addressed to a man of the Persian country. UPON RHETORIC. 421 * That their dominion or command in the state was the origin of all their misfortunes." In both cases, the thing which was unexpected, was that which was meant to be expressed, and which af- terwards turned out true. Had those equivocal terms been used only with one signification, no art nor finesse would be necessary ; for instance, in saying " the command of the sea is a com- mand/* &c. The proper use of equivocals, and also of metaphors, is what constitutes their beauty. The following are other examples, of a different cast : for, instead of playing upon an equivocal term, it is denied that there is any equivocation in the word. Thus, with regard to a backbiter, it has been said, '* Though he has been called mule, yet he is not too mute *." And again, " the man who is named Anaschetos, is nothing less than Anaschetos" which term implies the idea of insupportable. In such cases, in order that a thing be gracefully expressed, the same word must be repeated twice, as in the example adduced, as well as in the following : "If you would be a soldier, you must live as a soldier. 41 To be a soldier does not always make a man more a soldier. ** If you are a stranger in a house, you need not live so much like a stranger. " If you be a stranger within, you will not, on that account, be treated the more as a stranger." * I have added this example, as well as the next but one, in order to facilitate the meaning of those which Aristotle adduces. D D3 422 A DISSERTATION The same term, which is repeated in those cases, contains more than one meaning. We meet with this grace of expression in the so much commended observation of Anaxandridas, " that it is a fine thing to die, before we have done any thing which merits death." This is the same as saying in other words, " that it is just to die, provided it be not just that we should die:" or, " that a man is worthy of dying who is not worthy of death ; i. e. who has done nothing which merits death." All this is one turn and one mode of ex- pression. But what accomplishes the grace of diction, is brevity, and the opposition of its parts, because it is better understood through the latter, and easier through the former. Of ne sentiments we must observe, that they should be adapted to the person of whom we speak, and be also happily expressed, at least if we wish that such sentiments should pass as true, and not as common and airy remarks. These two conditions are not always to be found together, for one sometimes exists without the other. If a man should simply say, " that it is just the time to die when a man has committed no evil," the sentiment, without doubt, would be fine, and even the same as that which we before advanced ; but then it would not be gracefully expressed. To say, " that g. maid of quality should not ally her- self, but with a man of her own rank," would be a good precept of advice ; but then an expression UPON RHETORIC. 423 of this kind would neither affect nor please as we intended. If, however, the expression be fine, and the sentiment adapted to the person, then there is a thorough grace in what is said. For instance, " that it is never more just to die than when it is not just that we should die," In order to show that a man can never take too much pains in his elocution, I shall observe, that the more it partakes, in addition to those latter qualities, of the different ornaments we have heretofore laid down, the more graceful it will be : for instance, if its expressions be metaphorical and analogical, if it contains antithesis, and equa- lity of members, and if the sense be energetic and full of action. It cannot be doubted, but that images or com- parisons are highly graceful, as in some manner we have shown, that they rank, among the most perfect and excellent metaphors, because they are founded, like the analytical metaphor, upon two things of equal relation. We know that every metaphor has not an analogy, and that there are some simple ones. For instance : if we were to say, " that Mars* buckler is his bowl," or, " that a bow is an unstrung harp," the expression is not simple, but includes a double meaning, which is the object of compa- rison. On the contrary, to say, " that a bow is a harp," or, " that a buckler is a bowl," would o D 4 A DISSERTATION' be to express a simple metaphor, and such as will never be met in good comparisons. Some- times, however, comparisons of another kind are jnade ; for instance : " that a flute-player is like an ape, on account of the gathered-up posture of both *." Jf a comparison be intended to be well made, it should be metaphorical ; for, it is a fair comparison to say, " that Mart's buckler is his bowl ;" or, (( that the rubbish of a house js its torn garment ;" or, as was said of Niceratus, l( that he was Philoctetes bitten by Pratys*^." This latter comparison Thrasymachus made use qf, when he saw Nicer atus with his hair quite disordered, and his person entirely in dishabille, because Praiys had borne away the prize for poetic recitation from him. Our comparisons must be just ; for, of such consequence is this, that nothing renders a poet more ridiculous than such a defect, however skilful he may be in other respects. An instance qf this defect may be thus shown : *' His legs are as crooked as parsley ;" * There is another example in the text which 1 have not found it easy to explain to my own satisfaction ; it is this : *' that a blear-eyed man resembles (as some will have the read- ing), jk9gNri|0Mc{jyryt 5. e. a dropping candle; or (as others maintain), Xvxu ^axa&o/xJw, ' e, a wet wolf." f This metaphpr is founded upon the adventure of Philtc- being bitten by a serpent. UPON RHETORIC. 4*5 Or, *& . '* Like Philammon and Corycus * together, When under the same yoke they kick'd so well." These, it is true, are comparisons, but then they contain nothing metaphorical. Proverbs are also metaphors ; but metaphors of such a nature, as that they pass from one species to another ; as if a person, for instance, in the hope of profiting by it, should convey to his house a thing, which afterwards proved very injurious to him, and this observation were made : " It is Carpathiu with its hare." For then the proverb is metaphorical ; as the ad- venture of that man would resemble what hap- pened to the people of Carpathus, when they wished to have hares in their island. There is no doubt, that hyperboles, when fine, are metaphorical ; for instance : what was ex- pressed on the occasion of seeing a man whose face was entirely studded with pimples : " You * It is supposed that these were two noted wrestlers. With respect to Corycus, however, Riccoboni adduces an explanation taken from Mercwialis* Second Book De drt. Gymnast, where it is shown that torycus was a kind of ball, which, in academies, was used to be fastened to a plank with a cord, for the exercise of the youths. 446 A DISSERTATION would have sworn, if you saw it, that it was a basket-full of mulberries." What constitutes the resemblance is, that all pimples which appear on the face are red : in the above observation, however, there is something excessive. An hy- perbole may be made a comparison by simply .adding the necessary particles, u just so,'* "in the same manner," &c. There are many com- parisons so made ; the difference between them and hyperbole only lying in the character and manner of expression ; for instance : " Like Philammon, &c." If we change the character of this, we make it a comparison ; such as, " If you had seen hio., you would have sworn that you saw Philammou wrestling with Corycus* The other line, " His legs, &c." is a compa- rison ; but if expressed in the following manner, it is a pure hyperbole : " For my part, I did not think he had the real legs of a human being, but that they were of parsley, expressly made for him, so crooked were they." Upon the whole, however, hyperboles, be they never so good, are puerile, because the diction proceeds to excess ; wherefore, in Homer, we find them principally in the mouths of people who are en- raged. For example : u Not though he counted out his golden store, Beyond th' unnumber'd sand* upon the shore." ILI AD ix. UPON RHETORIC. 427 And in another place, " Your monarch's son-in-law I ne'er shall prove, E'en though the bride outshone the Queen of Love, And equalPd Pallas in her mental charms." I confess that in Athens this figure is in great demand, and is in common use amongst orators ; but, however, it is not adapted to all kinds of persons : for, nothing is so unseemly in the mouth of an old man as hyperbole. CHAP. XII. The two Kinds of ELOCUTION. To every kind of discourse there is an appro- priate diction i for, a great difference subsists between language, which is composed only to be simply read, and that which is made for re- citation : also a considerable difference between the pleader's style, and that of an harangue ad- dressed to the people, or to a numerous assem- bly. These two distinctions of writing and speaking, are what we are now to inquire into. The elocution which regards action, consists in speaking one's language purely. The other A DISSERTATION consists in providing against any constraint, im- posed by a lack of expression, when we have any thing which we would send into public; this is a difficulty in which bad writers are frequently involved. The style of diction intended to be read, must be very precise. The other, which is merely intended for recitation, attends to action alone ; of which latter kind, there are two sorts : one which studies the display of manner, and the other which is pathetic. Heflce comedians are particularly eager after those works wherein either of these two characteristics is illustrated ; and the poets, on their part, select such come- dians as give an effect to their productions by the success of their representation, and manner of acting. The other style, which applies to permanent writings, bestows a reputation upon those poets who are distinguished in it : such as Cheremon. This poet is as precise in his diction, as the most scrupulous of our prose authors. Lycimnius, of all the dithyrambic poets, is the first with regard to this quality. The great difference of both styles will appear if we compare them to- gether ; for, if we recite any of those discourses which read so well, nothing will appear so dry or barren ; and nothing is more flat than lan- guage which receives its ornament from being well recited, if we take it to our closet and read it. Language of this latter description is fitted UPON RHETORIC. 429 for action alone ; so that, if it be separated from this, it loses its effect, 5nd appears ridiculous. This may particularly be remarked in the asyn- deton, which means language or diction, where- in conjunctions are not used : this cannot rea- sonably be suffered upon paper, any more than a frequent repetition of the same thing. No- thing, however, is more applicable to action ; wherefore, every orator makes use of it. In a repetition of the same thing, we must take care to vary and alter the terms as often as we do the manner of speaking ; as nothing is so strong an auxiliary of action ; for instance : " It is he, gentlemen, who has robbed you ; it is he who has deceived you ; it is he, in fine, who has done every thing in his power to be- tray and deliver you over to your enemies." For other instances of such repetition, we need only recollect what we have seen Philemon the comedian do in Anaxandridass piece entitled " Geronto- mania, or the Old Fools," when Rhadanianthus and Palamedes appear upon the stage ; or, again, in the prologue to the piece called " The De- votees ;" where the word / is so often repeated. He who should not animate this by action, would be guilty of as much awkwardness, as if he car* ried a beam, according to the old proverb. The same thing is to be understood of conjunctions j for instance : " I arrived upon the spot, I ad- dressed himj I besought him, &c." This should A DISSERTATION not be pronounced altogether in the same tone, as if it were the same thing. If we omit conjunctions, it will appear as if we said many things at once. In fact, as it is the province of a conjunction to make but one thing of many, if we omit it, the contrary will happen; that is, of one thing we shall make several. Not to use conjunctions is a species of amplification, as may be thus instanced : " I went to him, I made him understand the mat- ter, I besought him ;" for these seem to be se- veral actions done at one time. Again, in the following example: "But, gentlemen, what- ever I can say to him, whatever I may remon- strate with him upon, it seems that he holds in no account." Homer had certainly this in view when he speaks of Nireus in the following man- ner : 11 Nireus, a native of the Samian isle." " NireuS) dglaia's son.'' " Nireus, beauty's self." ILIAD xxii. A great deal cannot be said of a person unless he be frequently named ; and if we say little of him, yet mention his name frequently, we shall seem to have said a great deal concerning him. Homer, who was thoroughly versed in the effect of this deception, has, in the foregoing instance, managed so well, that the only time he mentions Ntreus, renders the latter remark- UPON RHETORIC. 431 able, and preserve! him in the recollection, though, throughout the remainder of the poem, we hear nothing further of him. Each of the three rhetorical divisions has its appropriate style of diction. The style adapted to deliberative rhetoric, closely resembles those shaded paintings, which are seen to more ad- vantage at a distance, the coarser and more con- fused they are. Precision in this style is not only unnecessary but culpable. The diction of judiciary rhetoric ought to be more exact and more laboured; and this in a greater degree, when we appeal only to one judge, than if we were to do so to several ; for, in this case, rhetoric being straitened, its modes of address are of very little use : as it is easy to observe whether what is said be appli- cable to the cause, or not. Besides, in judiciary rhetoric, matters are taken up calmly, and with- out heat; which is the reason why judgments of this kind are much more refined and juridical than others. Thus, then, it is evident, that every kind of diction is not adapted to every kind of discourse ; there being one adapted for action, and another for the purpose of being read. Hence the reason why orators who excel in one, do not in the other. It is principally when there is need of extensive action, that the diction should be less precise, particularly upon occasions of addressing a mul* 432 A DISSERTATION titude, when the voice must be pitched to art extraordinary key of elevation. The diction of demonstrative rhetoric being principally made in order to be read, is the most exact and proper to appear upon paper ; and, next to this, as to the same qualities, is the dic- tion of judiciary rhetoric. It would be super- fluous to add, as some people will have it, another item to the division we have made ; viz. " that the diction ought to be pleasing and mag- nificent/' We might as well say, " that it should be sober, liberal, or partaking of those other virtues which regard the manners of men. 11 In fact, supposing that it should be pleasing, there will be nothing wanting of what we have stated to be necessary, in order to render it perfect, if the definition which we have given of its true perfection has been well established ; otherwise, where would be the use of asserting that it ought to be clear, should contain nothing superfluous, and ought to be adapted and proportioned to its subject ? If there are too many words, the thing will not be clear, any more than if there are too few. Mediocrity should be the line whereon to move towards correctness in these particulars. What we have said in another place is perfectly sufficient to produce the agree- able method in question; for instance, if we know how to make an appropriate and becoming combination of what is commonly used, with UPON RHETORIC. 433 what is strange or foreign ; as also, if number be a quality to be found therein, together with a requisite decency, and the presence of those characteristics which are suited to the speaker. So far for elocution, as applying in the se- veral ways we have laid down. We now come to THE PARTS OF A DISCOURSE. CHAP. XIII. EVERY discourse, if properly considered, has only two parts: viz. the proposition, and proof of the subject-matter. They are also termed the question and the demonstration ; and, though I am perfectly aware that the present division is far otherwise, yet, I am convinced, that to assert the existence of any more parts is ridiculous. For, in the first place, narration never takes place except in judiciary rhetoric, it being jm- possible that it should enter into the construc- tion of a deliberative or demonstrative dis- course. The same may be observed of that other part, which, those who insist upon a more complicated division, consider as necessary ; namely, the mode qf answering and refuting an adversary's reasonings, ffl also the peroration I 434 A DISSERTATION upon the subject of panegyric. I must, how- ever, confess, that exordium sometimes takes place in the deliberative part of the art, as well as an opposition between one's own reasons, and those of the adversary; and I will further concede the presence of recapitulation ; but this never happens unless there be a pre-formed dis- putation of the matter; for, even upon deli- berative occasions, it is not a novel thing to perceive frequent disputes and mutual recrimi- nations between different parties. These dis- putes are not necessarily created by delibera- tion : in fact, they are only to be now and then met with. Neither is peroration, with respect to judiciary rhetoric, by any means necessary to the pleader upon all occasions. It may, for instance, be dispensed with, if the discourse be very trivial, and the subject of such a nature, that it can be easily retained. The practice of recapitulation has been solely introduced for the purpose of refreshing the memory, and giving a summary view of what has been said in detail. Absolutely speaking, then, the division of a discourse into its essen- tial parts, is as I have said. The others which may be added, cannot make them amount to more than four in the whole, viz. exordium, pro- position, proof, and peroration. The reply to an adversary is embodied in the proof, and cannot form a distinct part any more UPON RHETORIC. 435 than the allegations which are made upon com- paring his own reasoning with that of his oppo- nent, because this latter method of speaking is a mere amplification of what has been already said, and he who uses it does so merely in order to establish his proof more strongly. This is not the case with exordium, or peroration, which have each their separate functions ; the first being instituted in order to prepare the judge for what is to be said, and the latter in order to confirm his recollection. Those who make any farther division in respect to the parts of a discourse, resemble the followers -of Theodorus, who, not content with admitting narration as a branch of division, attach txvo other parts, connected by the circumstances of position, namely, prae-narration and post-narration. They, in like manner, pretend, that refutation should have another part growing out of it, by way of enhancing it. It is, however, mere emptiness and trifling to impose new names, without prov- ing that there are new species, or alleging essen- tial differences, neither of which have been esta- blished. Lycimnius, in his rhetorical treatise, speaking of proof, divides it into a number of the most absurd and frivolous parts, to which he assigns different names, calling one imtption, another digression^ others branches, &c. E 2 436 A DISSERTATION CHAP. XIV. Of EXORDIUM. This is the commencement of a discourse, re- sembling what, in poetry, is called prologue, and in instrumental music $relude t or overture. It is, as it were, the opening of an avenue, in order to proceed forward upon our destination. Nothing bears a stronger resemblance to the exordiums which are used in demonstrative rhe- toric, than the prelude of those who play the flute in concert ; for, if they are acquainted with any one piece of music better than another, they do not fail to use it as a prelude, and to pass insensibly from it to the piece with which they open their concert. So, in demonstration, the opening matter will be always well received, provided the speaker possesses sufficient address to pass thence to his subject, and introduce it seasonably. This is the constant practice ; in example of which I may cite the exordium of Isocrates 1 panegyric upon Helen. What he says against sophistry is not common to his subject, which is an encomium upon Helen ; yet, by this deviation from it, he derived the advantage of avoiding uniformity, and diversified his lan- guage. The exordium of demonstrative rhetoric may UPON RHETORIC. 437 be indifferently founded, either upon invective or encomium. Upon the latter, as in Gorgias's ora- tion, entitled the *' Olympic :" " Persons of this description, gentlemen, are worthy of admiration, and undoubtedly merit a very particular eulogy." Herein his praise was addressed to the founders of such celebrated assemblies and public games. On the other hand, Isocrates, in his Panegyric, blames those same founders for having proposed prizes for mere skill in bodily exercises, and having neg- lected men distinguished for strong mental qua- lifications. Some commence their panegyrics, as if they were giving advice for instance, the following : " As there is nothing more just, and to which we are more obliged, than to honour great and virtuous men, for this reason I at present undertake to eulogize Arutodes.* Or in this : " The persons whom we are bound to praise cannot be either those who are depraved, or such as are universally eulogized by the world ; bi t those who, having been men of honour, through- out their whole lives, are not recognised as such, and whose virtues dwell in obscurity, as may be instanced in Paris, the son of Priam" This is, properly speaking, advice upon the subject of praising a person. In demonstration, also, one might imitate the forensic method of using things which concern the hearer, as in forewarning him that the matter is incredible, difficult, or too com- E E 3 438 A DISSERTATION noon, so as to excuse it, as Chterilus does in the commencement of his poem : " But now, as others have review'd the whole." The exordiums of demonstrative rhetoric are derived, then, from five sources : praise, or cen- sure ; persuasion, or dissuasion ; and, finally, the hearer's concerns. In all cases we should take care, that what is preliminarily said, be either quite applicable to, or quite remote from, the subject. The exordiums of judiciary rhetoric produce the same effect as theatrical prologues or prefaces to epic poetry : for, in lyric or dithyrambic poetry, the commencement resembles the exordium of demonstrative rhetoric, as in the following ex- ample : *'For thee, Bacchus, alone, for thy gifts, for thy prey*." Now, in the drama and epopea, the exordium always acts as a beacon, to show that those things which are to be said, have been, in order that the hearer may anticipate the knowledge of the action, and may be removed from suspense ; for, there is nothing so importunate as a vague and indefinite discourse, which leads the mind out of its proper path. Now, a commencement or exordium serves as a clue, which is held by * The original is herein lost to u?, as to the continuation of the example. UPON RHETORIC. 439 the hearer, in order to guide him through the dangers of intricacy. Hence Homer, in all his poems, and particularly in the Iliad, says, " O Muse, relate to me AcMles" ire, &c." Another poet* thus commences, u Another favour, Muse, I pray, rehearse, The mighty wrath with jealous feelings mixM, Which arm'd all Aila against Europe's sons." The tragic poets observe the same thing in their pieces ; and though they do not always, in the commencement, like Euriftaes, yet they intro- duce it in some part of their prologue. For ex- ample, in Sophocles' CEdipus, " Polybius was my sire, &c.'* Comedy is equally observant of this manner of introduction. Evidently, then, the most necessary and peculiar function of exordium consists in making the hearer acquainted with the subject of every discourse, as well as the end which the speaker has in view. If a matter he brief, or sufficiently clear of it- self, there is no need of an exordium. As to other matters, which are merely an occasional remedy or aid to the exordiums of judiciary rhetoric, and which are also common to every part of a discourse, they are derived circumstan- E E 4 440 A DISSERTATION tially, either from the speaker, the hearer, the Subject, or the opposite party. They arise from a consideration of the speaker or his adversary, when they serve to justify one crime, or to con- vert it into another. The manner of doing this is, however, different in those persons ; for, the defendant should, in the very first instance, say what may serve in his justification. Whereas the accuser should reserve himself for the end, and not employ his invective, except in the pero- rations. This is evidently reasonable, because the accused, in order to re-establish his reputation, and insinuate himself into the mind of his judge, should endeavour to remove every embarrassment in his way ; so that he must immediately attempt a self-vindication of the crime alleged against him. Now, the accuser's time is quite different, in order to give the judge a stronger and more impressive recollection of the invective which he has uttered. The matters which regard the hearer, that is to say, the judge, consist, on one side, in gaining his good-will, and, on the other, in whetting his resentment against our adversary ; sometimes in calling his attention to, and sometimes in divert- ing it from, the subject. It is frequently injurious to the pleader that the judge should be marked in his attention ; and hence there are so many advo- cates, whose sole endeavour is to provoke the judge's laughter by something of an amusing na- ture. As to rendering the hearer tractable and UPON RHETORIC. 44! ready to accredit what has been said, we must also endeavour that he shall stand well in his own opinion, by complimenting him with the appear- ance of an honourable man. An advocate, who acts thus, will be very com- placently attended to. The hearer's attention will be enforced by the promise of saying import- ant things ; things \?hich particularly concern him, which are marvellous, or replete with plea- santry. To this end we should first advertise our intention of addressing such things to him. If, on the contrary, we wish him not to be attentive, it is only necessary to caution him that the mat- ter does not deserve a hearing ; that it does not concern him, or that it is particularly tedious. Now all this is inapplicable to the object itself; for, this is supposing that the judge, who listens, is not as he should be, but inclined to lend an. ear to whatever is said. If this were not the case, all exordium, except that which the subject ren- ders necessary, would be useless ; and even in this case of necessity, it should be summary, that the discourse may not appear lame, or like a body without a head. Those persons are much mistaken, who sup- pose that the address of exciting the hearer's at- tention, principally appertains to the exordium. So far from this being the case, it equally pervades every other part of a discourse, as the speaker is at liberty to make use of it upon every occasion, 44 2 A DISSERTATION where it seems requisite. Indeed it is a fact, that the hearer generally evinces more symptoms of tedium and inattention in every other part than the commencement ; so that it is ridiculous to in- sist upon the necessity of labouring to gain atten- tion at a period when the hearer is, from motives of curiosity, most inclined to bestow it. When- ever an appropriate occasion for exciting attention presents itself, the following method may be re- sorted to with advantage : " Gentlemen, I have to intreat your attention to a subject which is not so closely connected with my interests as with your own." Or: " I beg you will lend me your attention ; for, never in the course of your lives have you heard of a thing so strange or so wonderful as that which I am about to relate." This is the method understood by Prodicus, when he relates, that, if his hearers sk'pr, he had nothing to do, in order to awaken therrK but to introduce somewhat ofthat curious question, the solution of which he was not in the habit of teaching for less than fifty drachmae. It is not difficult then to concede that exordium has been made with a view to the hearer alone, con- sidered as such ; for, whatever is contained in it is simply confined either to impressing a bad opi- nion of one's adversary, and rendering him odious, or to making the judges see that the guilt of the accused is not established, and that he conse- UPON RHETORIC. 443 quently has nothing to fear from their judgment Hence Sophocles, in his Antigone, says, " Sire, I shall tell you, but not with what care," &c. And Euripides, in his Iphigenia, " What need of preface or of long preamble ?'* The other persons who commonly use exor- diums, are such as cither really, or in their own belief, have a bad cause ; for the best thing they can do is, rather to confine themselves to speak- ing of any thing than the subject before them. Hence, servants who have been guilty of any mis- dc neanor, never make a direct answer to the questions which are put to them, but take a cir- cuitous method of accounting, and enter into long preambles, which have no visible tendency. We have already discussed the means of ac- quiring a hearer's good- will and favourable opi- nion. There is nothing, however, so judicious as what Homer puts into the mouth of his herq, Ufysses, when the latter invokes Minerva* *' Grant, goddess, that in the Phdracian'* mind I may or favour or compassion find." For this reason, in speaking before judges, two things must be attended to, the excitement of their pity, or the attainment of their affection. The address which should be used in exordiums 444 A DISSERTATION of the demonstrative kind, consists in inducing the hearer to believe that he participates in the praise which is bestowed upon others, whether he be, at the time, either affected in something relat- ing to himself, his family, or his profession. Hence, what Socrates says as represented by Plato, is very true, " That nothing is so easy as to praise the Athenians, when speaking to Athenians ; and nothing more difficult than to do the same if the Lacedemonians be the auditory." As deliberative rhetoric has no exordiums of its own, it borrows them from the judiciary branch of the art. In deliberation, the hearer needs no exordium to acquaint him with the subject ; so that, if exordium is to be used by the speaker, it must be either in his own consideration, or that of the persons who oppose his assertions, or, because things are not apt to be taken in the light he should wish, whether less or greater than they really are ; so that, when this is the case, he must come to the issue of accusation or defence, the aggravation or diminution of matters. In this di- vision of rhetoric, exordium may also be employed as an ornament or improvement to the discourse, for fear that, if it be without any, and the subject be too soon entered into, the speaker may appear precipitate. This is pretty nearly the fault com- mitted by Gorgias, in his panegyric upon the JSIians, wherein, without any preparation of their minds, he suddenly exclaims, " O Elis! happy- city," &c. UPON RHETORIC. 445 CHAP. XV. MEANS of DEFENCE against ACCUSATION. 1. One mode of clearing a person from the charge imputed consists in a recurrence to such things as obliterate the bad opinion which is en- tertained of them, no matter whether that opinion be created by the invectives of an adversary, or whether it proceed from any other quarter. The precept is general, and allows no restriction. 2. The second method consists in making the same reply as upon contested subjects, when a fact is not well established : for instance, by asserting " that what is advanced is not true :" " that the thing injures no one:" " that the plaintiff has no interest in it :" " that the evil is not so great as is represented :" " that there is either very little or no injustice in it :'' " that in what has been done there was nothing shameful nor dishonour- able :" and, finally, " that it is so unimportant, as not to be worthy the trouble of speaking on." These are the ordinary allegations in disputes. Thus Iphicrates, in defending himself against Nausicrates, agreed with him, that what he said was true, and that he had done him wrong ; bur, at the same time, he contended that he had only done what he ought to do. A reply of another kind may be made, by showing that there has 44-6 A DISSERTATION 1 been some sort of compensation, as in saying, " that the thingwas truly injurious, but,as a set-off, that it was also glorious : or, if it has been trouble- some, it has been attended with gain," &c. 3. A third method towards obtaining an ac- quittal of having done wrong, consists in alleging, " that it was done without reflection ;" " that it happened through misfortune ;" or, " that it was the effect of necessity.'' In this manner Sophocles answered the man, who accused him of having feigned a shivering before the tribunal : " If I do tremble, it is not in order to inspire my judges with compassion, nor to appear old, as is falsely asserted ; but because the snows of fourscore winters have constrained me to do so, by freezing the current of my blood." We may also reply in form of a satisfaction, by disguising the intention with which the thing has been done : as for in- stance, " Gentlemen, his intention was not to offend, but to do such a thing." Or again, " Cer- tainly, gentlemen, you will find that I have not done any of those things, wherewith the prose- cutor charges me : it is indeed true, that such matters have injured him, but I have not been the cause of their doing so ; nor did I act with any such intention. If I even entertained a thought of it, I should deserve not to be looked on by any one, and should hold myself to be the most aban- doned of men." 4. The fourth method consists In seeing whether UPON RHETORIC. 447 the accuser himself be not implicated in the crime with which he charges another ; whether he were an accomplice, or formerly committed the same thing himself; and if not in his own person, whe- ther we can trace those qualities in any of his con- nexions. 5. The fifth method of defence consists in at- tending to the manner in which the accusation is conceived, and whether it does not, at the same time, afford room to accuse other persons whom the prosecutor asserts to be free from guilt on that score. For instance, if a person were accused of adultery, because he was fond of gay apparel, and of genteel address, he may object io his prosecutor, " That if what he asserts be true, it must follow that such and such people, who are not accused, must be adulterers also." 6. A sixth mode of vindication is in seeing whether the accuser has not hitherto made a pro- fessional business of similar prosecutions ; whe- ther he himself has not laboured under the accu- sations of others ; or, in fine, whether, without ac- cusation, persons suspected on other occasions, of a similar crime, have been afterwards found inno- cent. 7. The seventh mode consists in repelling ca- lumny by calumny, and accusing the accuser, in order to prevent his being credited ; for, it would be absurd to believe the assertions of a man who appears unworthy of credit. 448 A "DISSERTATION 8. The eighth mode consists in seeing whether the matter in question has not been already de- cided. Euripides adopted this method against Hyperion, who, under the pretence of an action of Amidosis *, followed up a criminal charge of im- piety against him, for having inculcated perjury, in one of his pieces. The accusation was founded on the following line, " I swore iu word, but not in thought. " In HlPPOCORONATO. Euripides' justification was comprised in the following reply : " That Hygienon was full of law chicanery, and that he designed, by this prosecution, to injure the gentlemen who were appointed stewards of the Bacchanalian games, by thus bringing into court matters upon which it had previously passed its judgment : that he, Euripides, not only knew how to account for the charge in their assembly, but that he was also willing to do it in case the prosecutor should lay his action before them." 9. The ninth method consists in dropping the subject, and rebutting the calumny, by showing, in general terms, what it is, and how dangerous to be listened to : as also, that it deranges the order of judgments, and that it is never resorted to, but when the cause is incapable of bearing the person out. * See Sudseus's Commentaries. UPON RHETORIC. 449 10. Another mode, which is equally useful in accusation and defence, consists in having recourse to certain marks or appearances. This mode may be found in the Teucer. For, when Ulysses wishes to show that this prince is unworthy of confidence, he alleges nothing further in proof than for example, in his oration in favour of the allies. The digressions of demonstrative rhetoric ought to be frequent, for all panegyric is fond of en- larging itself by foreign praise. In this respect Jsocrales is never deficient, for he has always some one to praise contrary to the hearer's expectation. This is also what was meant by the boast of Gorgias; namely, " that whatever might be the subject of his discourse, he was certain of not dwelling on it too briefly for want of matter.'* In fact, if he had to speak of Achilles, he imme- diately praises Peleus, then jEacus, and afterwards proceeds to Jupiter. He doest he same thing, speaking of valour, or of any other subject, by the same successive introduction of matter. If a man has good arguments and proofs, in order to intermix them, he should at one time aspire to the appearance of being an honourable man, and at another should return to his argu- ment. If, however, he be defective in these, he must hold by the quality of a good man, and thereby give weight to his discourse, because it beseems a good man more to show an appearance of such a quality than to produce the most finished discourse. Of REFUTATION. .Of all enthymems, those which serve to re- fute, are, beyond comparison, superior to those UPON RHETORIC. 465 which serve in proof. The reason of this is. that whatever refutes, presses more with the force of reasoning, as there is nothing better known than, contraries are, when opposed to each other. Whatever serves as a reply to our adversary, does not form a distinct species, but enters into the body of proof. Refutation never takes place without bringing an objection, or opposing argument to argument. In matters of proof, whether of deliberation or bar-pleading, the first speaker should state his reasons from the very outset, and afterwards meet the objections which may be urged against him, by giving each its solution, and attempting to show that they are all vain and unfounded. If what is urged against us be embarrassiug and tedious in the discussion, on a( ount of having several adversaries, then we must anticipate the reply, as was done by Calibrates in the assembly of Messina ; for, he first destroyed what was urged against him, and afterwards laid down his own reasons. The last speaker must always set out with refuting, by solutions and contrary arguments, particularly if he sees that what the preceding speaker said was well received, and made an impression. In the same manner as the mind cannot endure a person who passes as infamous, and has been, already accused of some crime, so it is with a discourse, when the adverse party has made his C G 466 A DISSERTATION reasoning palatable, and his assertions to be be- lieved. In such cases then, we should endeavour to obtain a place in the hearer's mind, for the re- ception of what we say. This will happen if we remove the first impressions by which it has been pre-occupied ; and which shut out the entrance of those reasons which we wish to adduce. To this end we should combat either the entire of what has been said by the party, the principal matter, and that which is affecting, or most easily refuted ; and afterwards allege our own reasons, which we should endeavour to render as probable as we can. Hence it has been said : " Of the goddesses, first, I take up the defence; For, Juno I honour ." This is an example taken from the Troades of Euripides, when Hecuka, in the house of Menelaus, replies to Helens reasoning ; for, she begins, by what is weakest, to refute her opponent's obser- vations. So far for proof. As there are certain things which one cannot say without being laid open to envy, with- out fatigue, or without being put in the way of contradiction ; as also, as one cannot say a thing of another without hazarding some blame, and incurring the epithet of impertinent ; on such occasions it will be of use to introduce some one, who should act, in this respect, for us, as Isvcrates has done, in the oration he sent to UPON RHETORIC. 467 Philip, and also in another, entitled " The Re- muneration" (AvjtSoa-ts)* Again, jrchitockuf, speaking ill of Lycqmbiis* daughter, introduces her father, as saying thus : " It is nought but what I should expect, And nothing but what one might swear." This author also docs the same thing in ano- ther place, under the name of a certain artisan called Caron. The piece begins thus : " I have neither the wealth nor possessions of Gyges" Sophocles in like manner uses it, where he re- presents CEwon pleading in behalf of Antigone, with her father ; he puts several things into his mouth, as if others had said them and not him- self. The last observation to be made respecting proof, is, the necessity of disguising one's argu- ments so as that, of an cnthymem, we might some- times make a sentence. For example, it would be a pure sentence to say : " No good politician ought to delay making a peace, when he has obtained an advantage over his enemies, because it is only the manner of as- suring his conquests, and- making much better conditions for himself." In an argumentative form, it might thus be expressed^ " If the true period for concluding peace with an enemy, is when the conditions should be most; c G i 68 A DISSERTATION useful, and most glorious to the state, it undoubt- edly is the time when we have an advantage ever him, and when he is constrained to receive what we wish to impose." CHAP. XVIII. Of INTERROGATION. The true period for making use of this, is when, of two things, one of which is admitted by our adversary, you cannot put a question respecting the other, without an absurdity following from the answer. Thus it was used by Pericles, when he questioned Lampon upon what passed at the mysteries of Ceres, who is also called the " Sa- lutary Goddess.'* The latter having replied, " That it was not a thing to be revealed to the \vhole world, and, if he would know it, that he must be initiated;" Pericles again asked, "whe- ther he himself knew what passed there?" and the other replying in the affirmative, Pericles add- ed, " And how could you, who are as little initiated as I am, know it?" Secondly, interrogation may be used, when, of two propositions, one is clear, and the other of UPON RHETORIC. 469 such a quality as to leave no room for doubting the adverse party's contradiction of it if question- ed. We must, however, observe the precaution of laying aside that which is self-clear, question- ing only upon the other, and passing straight forward to the conclusion, as Socrates did in his apology or defence, when Melitus contended, " That he was an impious wretch who did not believe in the gods." "What!" said Socrates, (t do I not at least acknowledge that there is some spiritual nature superior to man, and that there exists some particular demon?" Melitus being obliged to grant this, because Socrates had fre- quently made known that he had a certain demon or good genius, who took charge of his conduct, and forewarned him of what was necessary for him to do ; Socrates immediately put this ques- tion : " Is it not necessary that such spiritual essences, and such demons, be either the off- spring of the gods, or something divine?" This also his opponent conceded. Socrates then passed on to this conclusion ; " W r hat say you, Melitus? Can you imagine there are persons who believe in the existence of children of the gods, and yet con- ceive that there are no gods ?" It will be also of use to employ interrogation, when, in reply to the adverse party, one can show either that he con- tradicts what he before asserted, or that he ad- vances a thing which is incredible, and repug- nant to common sense. Interrogation will also 4/O A DISSERTATION strongly apply when the opposite party, not be- ing able to answer our question fully, will make a captious and sophistical answer ; for instance, if he should answer thus : " Without doubt there is some foundation for what you say, and yet it is not true. In part the thing is, and in part it is not. In one sense, it may be main- tained, but not in another.'* Such a reply would very much prejudice a judge. Except on those four occasions, interrogation is perfectly useless. We should not put several interrogatories in one continued series, on account of the consi- deration which it is necessary to pay to the hearer's incapacity ; and hence the necessity of an argumentative summary, in preference to a detail. As to the manner of answering an inter- rogatory, if that which is put to us be captious, or includes a double meaning, we must make use of distinction, not so briefly, however, as not to be understood. But if the interrogatory which is put, compel us to utter things in ap- pearance contradictory, the remedy lies in ap- plying a solution of the question at the same time with its answer, before the opposite party has sufficient leisure to follow up his interroga- tories, or to draw any conclusion to our disad- vantage. The only difficulty in doing so will consist in, our foreseeing the reason we should adduce. This entire matter, as well as what concerns solutions, has been already fully em,- UPON RHETORIC. 47 T braced in our Topics ; but if the interrogator draw any conclusion from our answer, which he em- bodies in form of another question put to us, we have only to comply with his demand : at the same time assigning the reason wherefore; as Sophocles did in regard to Pisander, when the latter questioned him thus : " Whether it had not been his opinion, in concurrence with some others, that a change should take place in the government of his state, and that the four hundred should be restored to power ?" Sophocles granted this. " Well then," added Pisander, " did you not know that such an opinion was wrong ?" " I confess it," re- plied Sophocles. " So then," said the other, " you acknowledge that you knew you were doing wrong ?" " Yes," answered Sophocles ; " but I did not see any thing better which could be done at the time." Another example oc- curs, in the case of the Lacedemonian who ren- dered an account of his administration as one of the magistrates called Ephori\ for being forced to answer upon a certain decree, to which he had given his assent, and on account of which his fellow -magistrates had been put to deaiii, the following question was asked him : " If he did not think their punishment was merited ?" He answered in the affirmative. " Did he not coincide with those men as to the passing of that decree, and had it not his consent :" This he A DISSERTATION allowed to be true. " Well then, did he not believe that justice equally demanded his death ?" " By no means," he replied ; " for his fellows acted from bribery and corrupt motives, whereas, he had given his fair and uninfluenced judgment upon the matter." Hence, it is clear, that a question ought not to be put after a conclusion has been drawn ; as, also, that a conclusion ought not to be altered into a form of interro- gatory, unless we place great dependence upon the thing's certainty, and there remains suffi- cient truth to produce conviction in the mind of the person questioned. x Of RIDICULE. This may be of use in contested subjects ; for, as Gorgias has well observed, " it is sometimes advantageous to turn the serious reasoning of an adversary into jest, and his jest into earnest/' In our Poetics we have amply spoken of ridicule, and its several species, and have also shown, that there is a certain kind of raillery which is befitting a man of propriety, as well as another kind which is unworthy of him. To that part of my work I shall refer the reader for matter applicable to this subject. There is this differ- ence between irony and buffoonery , that the former savours somewhat of propriety, as the UPON RHETORIC; 473 man of raillery applies ridicule only for his own ends, or diversion, whereas the jester and buffoon employ it to excite laughter in others. CHAP. XIX. Of PERORATION. For the composition of this, there are four re- quisites : 1. That we ourselves should stand well in the mind of the judge, while we produce a contrary disposition towards our adversary. 2. To strengthen or weaken the reasoning alleged on either side. 3. To excite the feeling of some passion in the judge. And, 4. To awaken his recollection of what has been said. After showing the truth of our own assertions, or the falsity of our adversary's, there is nothing more natural than to triumph ourselves, and in- sult our adversary; in a word, to make use of the artisan's phrase, to give, our work a finish- ing touch. In order to operate a favourable opinion of HH 474 A DISSERTATION ourselves in the judges' mind, we should either endeavour to attain their consideration of us as persons absolutely good, or so only with respect to them, and vice versa, of our adversary. For this purpose, I refer to the places proper for in- ducing the appearance of virtue or its contrary, which we have heretofore laid down. Next after this consideration, and pre-supposing that the case is proved, it is natural to enlarge the im- portance of one's own reasons, and to vilify those of the adverse party. This could not, however, be done, if the matter were not pre- viously clear, as bodies cannot increase in growth if they have not previous existence. We have, also, assigned an express place for the attain- ment of this object. Having demonstrated the truth and important quality of our assertions to the judge, the next thing to be aimed at is the excitement of some passion in his breast, such as pity, indignation, anger, -hatred, envy, emulation, &c. ; for which, in like manner, we have assigned appropriate places. The only remaining object is recapitulation, and a summary of our reasoning, for the purpose of refreshing the memory. This may be done upon the principles which some teach with respect to exordium, though the latter differs in its local situation. Those persons urge the necessity of a primary recapitulation, in order that the judge UPON RHETORIC. 475 may be better acquainted with the subject which they enforce by frequent repetition ; but, I say, that the orator is obliged to make an exposition of the fact at first, merely that the judge should not be ignorant of the subject, nor of the matter upon which he is to decide. Now, recapitula- tion is alone necessary to aid 'the judge's recol- lection, and to give him, in brief, a view of what was said in long detail. A recapitulation may be thus commenced : " J believe that hitherto I have fulfilled my promise; and it now only remains for me to show, that I have said certain things for certain reasons.'* Another method might also be adopted, namely, the comparison of pur own assertions with those of our adversary. This may be done in two ways ; either by taking and setting in opposition to each other all things which were said for and against, or by a recital of the whole without op- position ; thus : ' Such and such things have been asserted on this head by the adverse party ; now, I have made such an assertion for a certain reason." Irony might also be introduced into this method; for instance: " Jt certainly cannot be denied that the adverse party has , thoroughly proved his allegation, when he has adduced such matters in support of his reasoning; for my part, I have said such things as I have in a simple manner." Or, " J request to know what the 476 A DISSERTATION UPON RHETORIC* opposite party would do, if he had shown such and such a thing, instead of what he has brought forward ?" Or again, in form of interrogatory : " Now, what is there which I have not made appear, and what proofs can be added to those I have already given ?" Or, in speaking of our adversary, ""In all that he has said, what has he proved ?" These are the modes of recapitu- lation ; but we must finally observe, that it will be necessary to avoid conjunctions, in order that the judge may perceive that the discourse is not to be of long continuation ; as for example : " I have assigned my reasons, you have hea%d them, you are acquainted with the subject, it is for you now to pronounce your judgment and decision thereon." THE END. Printed by S. GosNEit, Little Queen Street, London. oo =3 O tii =O O University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. NOV 06 1989 HECH MS Ui vjAOS-ANGl & ^ T O rS : ( ft ?> =4\\ c- ^ WIH^ IVERS//J IVERS/4. v^clOS ANGELA m* ^ >-. -^ ^^^ V IV-SOl^ %!3AINfl-]^ -^. on r 1 - CC