one of the offender's children. Ulysses having, by a stratagem, withdrawn _Iphigenia_ from her mother for that purpose, the unhappy Virgin was brought to the altar. But, as the story goes, the Goddess relenting at her hard fate, substituted a deer in her stead, and conveyed her away to serve her as a Priestess. It must be farther remarked that _Menelaus_ was the Virgin's uncle, and Calchas the Priest who was to officiate at this horrid sacrifice.] could see that _Chalcas_ should appear greatly concerned, _Ulysses_ still more so, and _Menelaus_ bathed in tears, but that the head of Agamemnon (the virgin's father) should be covered with his robe, to intimate a degree of anguish which no pencil could express: lastly, if a mere actor on the stage is ever cautious to keep up the character he appears in, what must be done by the Orator? But as this is a matter of such importance, let him consider at his leisure, what is proper to be done in particular causes, and in their several parts and divisions:--for it is sufficiently evident, not only that the different parts of an Oration, but that entire causes ought to be managed, some in one manner, and some in another.
We must now proceed to delineate the form and character of each of the three species of Eloquence above-mentioned; a great and an arduous talk, as I have already observed more than once; But we should have considered the difficulty of the voyage before we embarked: for now we have ventured to set sail, we must run boldly before the wind, whether we reach our port or not.
The first character, then, to be described, is the Orator who, according to some, is the only one that has any just pretensions to _Atticism_. He is distinguished by his modest simplicity; and as he imitates the language of conversation, he differs from those who are strangers to Eloquence, rather in reality than in appearance. For this reason, those who hear him, though totally unskilled in the art of Speaking, are apt to persuade themselves that they can readily discourse in the same manner [Footnote: There is a pretty remark to the same purpose in the fifteenth number of _The Guardian_, which, as it may serve to illustrate the observation of Cicero, I shall beg leave to insert.
"From what I have advanced, it appears how difficult it is to write _easily_. But when easy writings fall into the hands of an ordinary reader, they appear to him so natural and unlaboured, that he immediately resolves to write, and fancies that all he has to do is to take no pains.
Thus he thinks indeed simply, but the thoughts not being chosen with judgment, are not beautiful. He, it is true, expresses himself plainly, but flatly withal. Again, if a man of vivacity takes it into his head to write this way, what self-denial must he undergo, when bright points of wit occur to his fancy? How difficult will he find it to reject florid phrases, and pretty embellishments of style? So true it is, that simplicity of all things is the hardest to be copied, and case to be acquired with the greatest labour."];--and the unaffected simplicity of his language appears very imitable to an ignorant observer; though nothing will be found less so by him who makes the trial. For, if I may so express myself, though his veins are not over-stocked with blood, his juices must be found and good; and though he is not possessed of any extraordinary strength, he must have a healthy constitution. For this purpose, we must first release him from the shackles of _number_; for there is (you know) a kind of _number_ to be observed by an Orator, which we shall treat of in the sequel:--but this is to be used in a different species of Eloquence, and to be relinquished in the present. His language, therefore, must be free and unconfined, but not loose and irregular, that he may appear to walk at ease, without reeling or tottering. He will not be at the pains to cement word to word with a scrupulous exactness: for those breaks which are made by a collision of vowels, have now and then an agreeable effect, and betray the not unpleasing negligence of a man who is more felicitous about things than words. But though he is not to labour at a measured flow, and a masterly arrangement of his words, he must be careful in other respects. For even these limited and unaspiring talents are not to be employed carelessly, but with a kind of industrious negligence: for as some females are most becoming in a dishabille, so this artless kind of Eloquence has her charms, though she appears in an undress. There is something in both which renders them agreeable, without striking the eye.
Here, therefore, all the glitter of ornament, like that of jewels and diamonds, must be laid aside; nor must we apply even the crisping-iron to adjust the hair. There must be no colouring, no artful washes to heighten the complexion: but elegance and neatness must be our only aim. Our style muft be pure, and correct;--we must speak with clearness and perspicuity; --and be always attentive to appear in character. There is one thing, however, which must never be omitted, and which is reckoned by Theophrastus to be one of the chief beauties of composition;--I mean that sweet and flowing ornament, a plentiful intermixture of lively sentiments, which seem to result from a natural fund of good sense, and are peculiarly graceful in the Orator we are now describing. But he will be very moderate in using the _furniture_ of Eloquence: for (if I may be allowed such an expression) there is a species of furniture belonging to us, which consists in the various ornaments of sentiment and language. The ornaments of language are two-fold; the one sort relates to words as they stand singly, and the other as they are connected together. A _single_ word (I speak of those which are _proper_, and in common use) is then said to be well chosen, when it founds agreeably, and is the best which could have been taken to express our meaning. Among borrowed and _translatitious_ [Footnote: Words which are transferred from their primitive meaning to a metaphorical one.] words, (or those which are not used in their proper sense) we may reckon the metaphor, the metonymy, and the rest of the tropes; as also compounded and new-made words, and such as are obsolete and out of date; but obsolete words should rather be considered as proper ones, with this only difference, that we seldom make use of them. As to words in connection, these also may be considered as ornamental, when they have a certain gracefulness which would be destroyed by changing their order, though the meaning would still remain the same. For as to the ornaments of sentiment, which lose nothing of their beauty, by varying the position of the words,--these, indeed, are very numerous, though only a few of them are remarkably striking.
The Orator, then, who is distinguished by the simplicity of his manner, provided he is correct and elegant, will be sparing in the use of new words; easy and modest in his metaphors; and very cautious in the use of words which are antiquated;--and as to the other ornaments of language and sentiment, here also he will be equally plain and reserved. But in the use of metaphors, he will, perhaps, take greater liberties; because these are frequently introduced in conversation, not only by Gentlemen, but even by rustics, and peasants: for we often hear them say that the vine _shoots out_ it's buds, that the fields are _thirsty_, the corn _lively_, and the grain _rich_ and flourishing. Such expressions, indeed, are rather bold: but the resemblance between the metaphor and the object is either remarkably obvious; or else, when the latter has no proper name to express it, the metaphor is so far from appearing to be laboured, that we seem to use it merely to explain our meaning. This, therefore, is an ornament in which our artless Orator may indulge himself more freely; but not so openly as in the more diffusive and lofty species of Eloquence. For that _indecorum_, which is best understood by comparing it with its opposite quality, will even here be viable when a metaphor is too conspicuous;--or when this simple and dispassionate sort of language is interrupted by a bold ornament, which would have been proper enough in a different kind of Elocution.
As to that sort of ornament which regards the position of words, and embellishes it with those studied graces, which are considered by the Greeks as so many _attitudes_ of language, and are therefore called _figures_, (a name which is likewise extended to the flowers of sentiment;)--the Orator before us, who may justly be regarded as an _Attic_ Speaker, provided the title is not confined to him, will make use even of _this_, though with great caution and moderation. He will conduct himself as if he was setting out an entertainment, and while he carefully avoids a splendid magnificence, he will not only be plain and frugal, but neat and elegant, and make his choice accordingly. For there is a kind of genteel parsimony, by which his character is distinguished from that of others. He will, therefore, avoid the more conspicuous ornaments abovementioned, such as the contracting word to word,--the concluding the several members of a sentence with the same cadence, or confining them to the same measure,--and all the studied prettiness which are formed by the change of a letter, or an artful play of found;--that, if possible, there may not be the slightest appearance, or even suspicion, of a design to please. As to those repetitions which require an earnest and forcible exertion of the voice, these also would be equally out of character in this lower species of Eloquence; but he may use the other ornaments of Elocution at his pleasure, provided he checks and interrupts the flow of his language, and softens it off by using familiar expressions, and such metaphors as are plain and obvious. Nay, even as to the figures of sentiment, he may sometimes indulge himself in those which are not remarkably bold and striking. Thus, for instance, we must not allow him to introduce the Republic as speaking, nor to fetch up the dead from their graves, nor to crowd a multitude of ideas into the same period. These efforts demand a firmer constitution, and should be neither required nor expected from the simple Orator before us; for as in his voice, so likewise in his language, he should be ever easy and composed. But there are many of the nobler ornaments which may be admitted even here, though always in a plainer and more artless habit than in any other species of Eloquence; for such is the character we have assigned him. His gesture also will be neither pompous, nor theatrical, but consist in a moderate and easy sway of the body, and derive much of it's efficacy from the countenance,--not a stiff and affected countenance, but such a one as handsomely corresponds with his sentiments.
This kind of Oratory will likewise be frequently enlivened by those turns of wit and pleasantry, which in Speaking have a much greater effect than is imagined. There are two sorts of them; the one consisting in smart sayings and quick repartees, and the other in what is called _humour_. Our Orator will make use of both;--of the latter in his narratives, to make them lively and entertaining;--and of the other, either in giving or retorting a stroke of ridicule, of which there are several kinds; but at present it is not our business to specify them. It will not be amiss, however, to observe by way of caution, that the powers of _ridicule_ are not to be employed too often, lest we sink into scurrility;--nor in loose and indecent language, lest we degenerate into wantonness and buffoonery; --nor with the least degree of petulance and abuse, lest we appear audacious and ill-bred;--nor levelled against the unfortunate, lest we incur the censure of inhumanity;--nor against atrocious crimes, lest we raise a laugh where we ought to excite abhorrence;--nor, in the last place, should they be used unseasonably, or when the characters either of the Speaker, or the Hearer, and the circumstances of time and place forbid it;--otherwise we should grossly fail in that decorum of which we have already said so much. We should likewise avoid all affected witticisms, which appear not to be thrown out occasionally, but to be dragged from the closet; for such are generally cold and insipid. It is also improper to jest upon our friends, or upon persons of quality, or to give any strokes of wit which may appear ill-natured, or malicious. We should aim only at our enemies; and even at these, not upon every occasion, or without any distinction of character, or with the same invariable turn of ridicule.
Under these restrictions our artless Orator will play off his wit and humour, as I have never seen it done by any of the modern pretenders to Atticism, though they cannot deny that this is entirely in the Attic taste.
Such, then, is the idea which I have formed of a _simple and an easy Speaker_, who is likewise a very masterly one, and a genuine Athenian; for whatever is smart and pertinent is unquestionably _Attic_, though some of the Attic Speakers were not remarkable for their wit. _Lysias_, indeed, and _Hyperides_ were sufficiently so; and _Demades_, it is said, was more so than all the others. Demosthenes, however, is thought by many to have but little merit of the kind; but to me nothing can be more genteel than he is; though, perhaps, he was rather smart than humourous. The one requires a quicker genius, but the other more art and address.
But there is a second character, which is more diffusive, and somewhat stronger than the simple and artless, one we have been describing,--though considerably inferior to that copious and all-commanding Eloquence we shall notice in the sequel. In this, though there is but a moderate exertion of the nerves and sinews of Oratory, there is abundance of melody and sweetness. It is much fuller and richer than the close and accurate style above-mentioned; but less elevated than the pompous and diffusive.
In _this_ all the ornaments of language may be employed without reserve; and _here_ the flow of our numbers is ever soft and harmonious. Many of the Greeks have pursued it with success: but, in my opinion, they must all yield the palm to _Demetrius Phalereus_, whose Eloquence is ever mild and placid, and bespangled with a most elegant variety of metaphors and other tropes, like so many _stars_. By _metaphors_, as I have frequently observed, I mean expressions which, either for the sake of ornament, or through the natural poverty of our language, are removed and as it were _transplanted_ from their proper objects to others, by way of similitude.
As to _tropes_ in general, they are particular forms of expression, in which the proper name of a thing is supplied by another, which conveys the same meaning, but is borrowed from its adjuncts or effects: for, though, in this case, there is a kind of metaphor, (because the word is shifted from its primary object) yet the remove is performed by _Ennius_ in a different manner, when he says metaphorically,--"_You bereave the citadel and the city of their offspring_,"--from what it would have been, if he had put the citadel alone for the whole state: and thus again, when he tells us that,--"_rugged Africa was shaken by a dreadful tumult_,"--he puts Africa for the inhabitants. The Rhetoricians call this an _Hypallage_, because one word is substituted for another: but the Grammarians call it a _Metonymy_, because the words are shifted and interchanged. Aristotle, however, subjoins it to the metaphor, as he likewise does the _Abuse_ or _Catachresis_; by which, for instance, we say a _narrow, contracted soul_, instead of a _mean_ one, and thus steal an expression which has a kindred meaning with the proper one, either for the sake of ornament or decency. When several metaphors are connected together in a regular chain, the form of speaking is varied. The Greeks call this an _Allegory_, which indeed is proper enough if we only attend to the etymology; but if we mean to refer it to its particular _genus_ or kind, he has done better who comprehends the whole under the general name of metaphors. These, however, are frequently used by _Phalereus_, and have a soft and pleasing effect: but though he abounds in the metaphor, he also makes use of the other tropes with as much freedom as any writer whatever.
This species of Eloquence (I mean the _middling_, or temperate) is likewise embellished with all the brilliant figures of language, and many of the figures of sentiment. By this, moreover, the most extensive and refined topics of science are handsomely unfolded, and all the weapons of argument are employed without violence. But what need have I to say more?
Such Speakers are the common offspring of Philosophy; and were the nervous, and more striking Orator to keep out of sight, these alone would fully answer our wishes. For they are masters of a brilliant, a florid, a picturesque, and a well-wrought Elocution, which is interwoven with all the beautiful embroidery both of language and sentiment. This character first streamed from the limpid fountains of the _Sophists_ into the Forum; but being afterwards despised by the more simple and refined kind of Speakers, and disdainfully rejected by the nervous and weighty; it was compelled to subside into the peaceful and unaspiring mediocrity we are speaking of.
majestic Orator, who possesses the powers of Elocution in their full extent. _This_ is the man whose enchanting and diffusive language is so much admired by listening nations, that they have tamely suffered Eloquence to rule the world;--but an Eloquence whose course is rapid and sonorous!--an Eloquence which every one gazes at, and admires, and despairs to equal! This is the Eloquence that bends and sways the passions!--_this_ the Eloquence that alarms or sooths them at her pleasure! This is the Eloquence that sometimes tears up all before it like a whirlwind; and, at other times, steals imperceptibly upon the senses, and probes to the bottom of the heart!--the Eloquence which ingrafts opinions that are new, and eradicates the old; but yet is widely different from the two characters of Speaking before-mentioned.
He who exerts himself in the simple and accurate character, and speaks neatly and smartly without aiming any higher!--_he_, by this alone, if carried to perfection, becomes a great, if not the greatest of Orators; nor does he walk upon slippery ground, so that if he has but learned to tread firm, he is in no danger of falling. Also the middle kind of Orator, who is distinguished by his equability, provided he only draws up his forces to advantage, fears not the perilous and doubtful hazards of a public Harangue; and, though sometimes he may not succeed to his wishes, yet he is never exposed to an absolute defeat; for as he never soars, his fall must be inconsiderable. But the Orator, whom we regard as the prince of his profession,--the nervous,--the fierce,--the flaming Orator, if he is born for this alone, and only practices and applies himself to this, without tempering his copiousness with the two inferior characters of Eloquence, is of all others the most contemptible. For the plain and simple Orator, as speaking acutely and expertly, has an appearance of wisdom and good-sense; and the middle kind of Orator is sufficiently recommended by his sweetness:--but the copious and diffusive Speaker, if he has no other qualification, will scarcely appear to be in his senses.
For he who can say nothing calmly,--nothing gently--nothing methodically, --nothing clearly, distinctly, or humourously, (though a number of causes should be so managed throughout, and others in one or more of their parts:)--he, moreover, who proceeds to amplify and exaggerate without preparing the attention of his audience, will appear to rave before men of understanding, and to vapour like a person intoxicated before the sober and sedate.
Thus then, my Brutus, we have at last discovered the finished Orator we are seeking for: but we have caught him in imagination only;--for if I could have seized him with my hands, not all his Eloquence should persuade me to release him. We have at length, however, discovered the eloquent Speaker, whom Antonius never saw.--But who, then, is he?--I will comprize his character in a few words, and afterwards unfold it more at large.--He, then, is an Orator indeed! who can speak upon trivial subjects with simplicity and art, upon weighty ones with energy and pathos, and upon those of middling import with calmness and moderation. You will tell me, perhaps, that such a Speaker has never existed. Be it so:--for I am now discoursing not upon what I _have_ seen, but upon what I could _wish_ to see; and must therefore recur to that primary semblance or ideal form of Plato which I have mentioned before, and which, though it cannot be seen with our bodily eyes, may be comprehended by the powers of imagination.
For I am not seeking after a living Orator, or after any thing which is mortal and perishing, but after that which confers a right to the title of _eloquent_; in other words, I am seeking after Eloquence herself, who can be discerned only by the eye of the mind.
He then is truly an _Orator_, (I again repeat it,) who can speak upon trivial subjects with simplicity, upon indifferent ones with moderation, and upon weighty subjects with energy and pathos. [Footnote: Our Author is now going to indulge himself in the _Egotism_,--a figure, which, upon many occasions, he uses as freely as any of the figures of Rhetoric. How the Reader will relish it, I know not; but it is evident from what follows, and from another passage of the same kind further on, that Cicero had as great a veneration for his own talents as any man living. His merit, however, was so uncommon both as a Statesman, a Philosopher, and an Orator, and he has obliged posterity with so many useful and amazing productions of genius, that we ought in gratitude to forgive the vanity of the _man_. Although he has ornamented the socket in which he has _set_ his character, with an extravagant (and I had almost said ridiculous) profusion of self-applause, it must be remembered that the diamond it contains is a gem of inestimable value.] The cause I pleaded for Caecina related entirely to the bare letter of the Interdict: here, therefore, I explained what was intricate by a definition,--spoke in praise of the Civil Law,--and dissolved the ambiguities which embarrassed the meaning of the Statute.--In recommending the Manilian Law, I was to blazon the character of _Pompey_, and therefore indulged myself in all that variety of ornament which is peculiar to the second species of Eloquence. In the cause of Rabirius, as the honour of the Republic was at stake, I blazed forth in every species of amplification. But these characters are sometimes to be intermingled and diversified. Which of them, therefore, is not to be met with in my seven Invectives against _Verres_? or in the cause of _Habitus_? or in that of _Cornelius_? or indeed in most of my Defences? I would have specified the particular examples, did I not believe them to be sufficiently known; or, at least, very easy to be discovered by those who will take the trouble to seek for them. For there is nothing which can recommend an Orator in the different characters of speaking, but what has been exemplified in my Orations,--if not to perfection, yet at least it has been attempted, and faintly delineated. I have not, indeed, the vanity to think I have arrived at the summit; but I can easily discern what Eloquence ought to be. For I am not to speak of myself, but to attend to my subject; and so far am I from admiring my own productions, that, on the contrary, I am so nice and difficult, as not to be entirely satisfied with Demosthenes himself, who, though he rises with superior eminence in every species of Eloquence, does not always fill my ear;--so eager is it, and so insatiable, as to be ever coveting what is boundless and immense. But as, by the assistance of _Pammenes_, who is very fond of that Orator, you made yourself thoroughly acquainted with him when you was at _Athens_, and to this day scarcely ever part with him from your hands, and yet frequently condescend to peruse what has been written by _me_; you must certainly have taken notice that he hath _done_ much, and that I have _attempted_ much,--that he has been _happy_ enough, and I _willing_ enough to speak, upon every occasion, as the nature of the subject required. But he, beyond dispute, was a consummate Orator; for he not only succeeded several eminent Speakers, but had many such for his cotemporaries:--and I also, if I could have reached the perfection I aimed at, should have made no despicable figure in a city, where (according to Antonius) the voice of genuine Eloquence was never heard.
But if to Antonius neither Crassus, nor even himself, appeared to be _eloquent_, we may presume that neither Cotta, Sulpicius, nor Hortensius would have succeeded any better. For _Cotta_ had no expansion, _Sulpicius_ no temper, and _Hortensius_ too little dignity. But the two former (I mean Crassus and Antonius) had a capacity which was better adapted to every species of Oratory. I had, therefore, to address myself to the ears of a city which had never been filled by that multifarious and extensive Eloquence we are discoursing of; and I first allured them (let me have been what you please, or what ever were my talents) to an incredible desire of hearing the finished Speaker who is the subject of the present Essay. For with what acclamations did I deliver that passage in my youth concerning the punishment of parricides [Footnote: Those unnatural and infamous wretches, among the Romans, were sown into a leathern sack, and thus thrown into the sea; to intimate that they were unworthy of having the lead communication with the common elements of water, earth, and air.], though I was afterwards sensible it was too warm and extravagant?
--"What is so common, said I, as air to the living, earth to the dead, the sea to floating corpses, and the shore to those who are caft upon it by the waves! But these wretches, as long as life remains, so live as not to breathe the air of heaven;--they so perish, that their limbs are not suffered to touch the earth;--they are so tossed to and fro' by the waves, as never to be warned by them;--and when they are cast on the shore, their dead, carcases cannot rest upon the surface of the rocks!" All this, as coming from a youth, was much applauded, not for it's ripeness and solidity, but for the hopes it gave the Public of my future improvement.
From the same capacity came those riper expressions,--"She was the spouse of her son-in-law, the step-mother of her own offspring? and the mistress of her daughter's husband [Footnote: This passage occurs in the peroration of his Defence of Cluentius]."
But I did not always indulge myself in this excessive ardour of expression, or speak every thing in the same manner: for even that youthful redundance which was so visible in the defence of _Roscius_, had many passages which were plain and simple, and some which were, tolerably humourous. But the Orations in defence of _Habitus_, and _Cornelius_, and indeed many others; (for no single Orator, even among the peaceful and speculative Athenians, has composed such a number as I have;)--these, I say, have all that variety which I so much approve. For have _Homer_ and _Ennius_, and the rest of the Poets, but especially the tragic writers, not expressed themselves at all times with the same elevation, but frequently varied their manner, and sometimes lowered it to the style of conversation; and shall I oblige myself never to descend from that highest energy of language? Bit why do I mention the Poets whose talents are divine! The very actors on the stage, who have most excelled in their profession, have not only succeeded in very different characters, though still in the same province; but a comedian has often acted tragedies, and a tragedian comedies so as to give us universal satisfaction. Wherefore, then, should not _I_ also exert my efforts? But when I say _myself_, my worthy Brutus I mean _you_: for as to _me_, I have already done all, I was capable of doing. Would _you_, then, plead every cause in the same manner?
Or is there any sort of causes which your genius would decline? Or even in the same cause, would you always express yourself in the same strain, and without any variety? Your favourite _Demosthenes_, whose brazen statue I lately beheld among your own, and your family images, when I had the pleasure to visit you at Tusculanum,--Demosthenes, I say, was nothing inferior to _Lysias_ in simplicity; to _Hyperides_ in smartness and poignancy, or to _Aeschines_ in the smoothness and splendor of his language. There are many of his Orations which are entirely of the close and simple character, as that against _Lepsines_; many which are all nervous, and striking, as those against _Philip_; and many which are of a mixed character, as that against _Aeschines_, concerning the false embassy, and another against the same person in defence of _Ctesiphon_. At other times he strikes into the _mean_ at his pleasure, and quitting the nervous character, descends to this with all the ease imaginable. But he raises the acclamations of his audience, and his Oratory is then most weighty and powerful, when he applies himself to the _nervous_.
But as our enquiries relate to the art, and not to the artist, let us leave _him_ for the present, and consider the nature and the properties of the object before us,--that is, of _Eloquence_. We must keep in mind, however, what I have already hinted,--that we are not required to deliver a system of precepts, but to write as judges and critics, rather than teachers. But I have expatiated so largely upon the subject, because I foresee that you (who are, indeed, much better versed in it, than I who pretend to inform you) will not be my only reader; but that my little essay, though not much perhaps to my credit, will be made public, and with your name prefixed to it.
I am of opinion, therefore, that a finished Orator should not only possess the talent (which, indeed, is peculiar, to himself) of speaking copiously and diffusively: but that he should also borrow the assistance of it's nearest neighbour, the art of Logic. For though public speaking is one thing, and disputing another; and though there is a visible difference between a private controversy, and a public Harangue; yet both the one and the other come under the notion of reasoning. But mere discourse and argument belongs to the Logician, and the art of Speaking gracefully and ornamentally is the prerogative of the Orator. _Zeno_, the father of the _Stoics_, used to illustrate the difference between the two by holding up his hand;--for when he clenched his fingers, and presented a close fist,-- "_that_," he said, "was an emblem of Logic:"--but when he spread them out again, and displayed his open hand,--"this," said he, "resembles Eloquence." But Aristotle observed before him, in the introduction to his Rhetoric, that it is an art which has a near resemblance to that of Logic;--and that the only difference between them is, that the method of reasoning in the former is more diffusive, and in the latter more close and contracted.
I, therefore, advise that our finished Orator make himself master of every thing in the art of Logic, which is applicable to his profession:--an art (as your thorough knowledge of it has already informed you) which is taught after two methods. For Aristotle himself has delivered a variety of precepts concerning the art of Reasoning:--and besides these, the _Dialecticians_ (as they are called) have produced many intricate and thorny speculations of their own. I am, therefore, of opinion, that he who is ambitious to be applauded for his Eloquence, should not be wholly unacquainted with this branch of Erudition; but that he ought (at least) to be properly instructed either in the old method, or in that of _Chrysippus_. In the first place, he should understand the force, the extension, and the different species of words as they stand singly, or connected into sentences. He should likewise be acquainted with the various modes and forms in which any conception of the mind may be expressed--the methods of distinguishing a true proposition from a false one;--the different conclusions which result from different premises;--the true consequences and opposites to any given proposition;--and, if an argument is embarrassed by ambiguities, how to unravel each of them by an accurate distinction. These particulars, I say, should be well understood by an Orator, because they are such as frequently occur: but as they are naturally rugged and unpleasing, they should be relieved in practice by an easy brilliance of expression.
But as in every topic which is discussed by reason and method, we should first settle what it is we are to discourse upon,--(for unless the parties in a dispute are agreed about the subject of it, they can neither reason with propriety, nor bring the argument to an issue;)--it will frequently be necessary to explain our notions of it, and, when the matter is intricate, to lay it open by a _definition_;--for a _definition_ is only a sentence, or explanation, which specifies, in as few words as possible, the nature of the object we propose to consider. After the _genus_, or kind, has been sufficiently determined, we must then proceed (you know) to examine into it's different species, or subordinate parts, that our whole discourse may be properly distributed among them. Our Orator, then, should be qualified to make a just definition;--though not in such a close and contracted form, as in the critical debates of the Academy, but more explicitly and copiously, and as will be best adapted to the common way of thinking, and the capacity of the vulgar. He is likewise, as often as occasion requires, to divide the genus into it's proper species, so as to be neither defective, nor redundant. But _how_ and _when_ this should be done, is not our present business to consider: because, as I observed before, I am not to assume the part of a teacher, but only of a critic and a judge.
But he ought to acquaint himself not only with the art of Logic, but with all the common and most useful branches of Morality. For without a competent knowledge of these, nothing can be advanced and unfolded with any spirit and energy, or with becoming dignity and freedom, either concerning religion,--death,--filial piety,--the love of our country,-- things good or evil,--the several virtues and vices,--the nature of moral obligation,--grief or pleasure, and the other emotions of the mind,--or