■ fRHfi n*^ ^B BBSS ffi&! - ■ -V ' HI " j** ■ H ■ rSx 4 ■flHM^ H ^ H ^KHHH^E^^H •VV Hi H HH Nil BSB9 HMH Off SKSfi. aas HH .H Bros BBBlBWfl Hi ffi BE Us US 5?4!' hSSSSI EwSftll 3P8&H HfH HBj 1H 83&8SH m BH ■ ■■I ESE ■ ?«& I Ban fiw BWwBBMLB iiigiaMW Hi ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE; OR, OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. ■» ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE; OR, OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. STranslateir from tfje (German of DR. FRANCIS THEREMIN, BY WILLIAM G. T. SHEDD, PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF VERMONT. NEW-YORK: JOHN WILEY, 161 BROADWAY; 13 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON. X850. \ *^ -<.*> ^4*° Entered 'according to Act of Congress in the year 1850, . BY JOHN WILEY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New- York. J. P. Wright, Printer, 74 Fulton st., N. Y. CONTENTS Preface, by the Translator vii BOOH X. Chap. I. — Design and Use of the Proposed Investigation. 1 Chap. II. — Eloquence is not something between Poetry and Philosophy 7 Chap. III. — Eloquence is neither Poetry nor Philosophy. .10 Chap. IV. — Eloquence is a Virtue 14 Chap. V.— Ideas 19 Chap. VI. — The Political and Religious Form of Practi- cal Ideas 23 Chap. VII. — The Different Species of Eloquence 28 Chap. VIII. — Virtue is also Good Sense 33 Chap. IX. — The Subordinate Ideas, or Categories 38 Chap. X.— The Category, Truth 40 Chap. XI. — The Rhetorical Demonstration of Truth 42 Chap. XII.— The Categories, Possibility and Actuality 52 Chap. XIII. — The Plan and Division of an Oration 56 Chap. XIV. — First Features towards a Sketch of the Orator.69 VI CONTENTS. BOOK XX. Page Chap. L — Affection and Passion.. 77 Chap. II. — The Duty of the Orator to speak with Affec- tion, and to awaken Affection 85 Chap. III.— The Different Kinds of Affection 91 Appendix. — Wit 97 Chap. IV. — The Means of exciting Affection : or. The Rhetorical Presentation of Thought 101 Chap. V.— The Law of Adaptation 106 Appendix. — Taste 131 Chap. VI.— The Law of Constant Progress 134 Chap. VII.— The Law of Vivacity 146 Chap. VIII— Prose 155 Chap. IX. — Conclusion 162 PREFACE, by the translator- It is believed that this little treatise upon Rhetoric possesses some characteristics which render it worthy of a place among the current English treatises on this subject. Perhaps no one will be ready to assent to all the positions laid down in it, and many may think that in its method and spirit it is altogether too for- eign to our own modes of thought and expression, to be of any worth to the English student. Still, if used in the right way, it is thought that it may be made to contribute to a broad and thorough discipline in this department of culture. For no production, especially of a foreign mind, should be servilely received by the student, or allowed to exert an arbitrary and violent influence upon him. He should retain his own indi- viduality and nationality in their most independent and determined forms, while, at the same time, he opens his mind and heart to all that is true and genial PREFACE. in a foreign literature. Non-intercourse is as impoli- tic and injurious in the world of contemplation, as it is in the world of action. Moreover, the present state of Rhetoric, considered as one of the co-ordinate branches of discipline, to which the mind of the student is subjected in the course of liberal education, seems to call for the infu- sion of an element which may be found in this trea- tise of Theremin. Rhetoric, in its best estate, is but the science of Form, or, to use Milton's phrase, an " or- ganic" — i. e., instrumental — Art. It does not propose to furnish the material of knowledge, but only to put the material, when furnished, into as fine and perfect forms as possible. Owing partly to this intrinsic na- ture of Rhetoric as an Art, and partly perhaps to the excessively popular character which science and scien- tific statements have assumed in the present age, Rhe- toric has become extremely superficial in its character an I influence, so that the term " rhetorical" has become the synonyme of shallow and showy. Dissevered from Lo-dc, or the necessary laws of Thought, it has become dissevered from the seat of life, and has degenerated int \ a mere collection of rules respecting the structure of mtences and the garnish of expression. PRErACE. IX Any treatise, therefore, of which the tendency is to restore the connection between Thought and its expres- sion, cannot but be beneficial in its influence upon both the theory and practice of Eloquence. Even if it were constructed upon a false fundamental principle, and, as a systematic whole, were incorrect, still the mere effort to systematize the subject — the striving to ground it in something deeper and more solid than its own hollow forms, would not be without its salutary influ- ence upon the art itself and the student. It would, at least, direct attention to the fact, that an art like Rhe~ toric should be based upon some science, and that its rules and maxims, in order to be efficient and influen- tial, must be the off-shoots of principles lying deeper than themselves. It would point to the adaptation that really exists in the nature of things, and that ought actually to exist in practice, between an instrument employed by the human mind, and addressing itself to it, and the human mind itself. The work of Theremin, whether it be true or false in substance, is, what it purports to be, a systematic Rhetoric. It does not begin with rules, and it does not, in starting, deal in minute observations upon mi- nutiae ; but it begins with the Ideas which are con- B PREFACE ceived to underlie the whole subject, and to constitute the ground and soil from which the whole after-de- velopement and detail will naturally spring. It begins at the beginning, goes through the middle, and so ar- rives at the end. Now there is power in such a method, apart from its contents. The course and movement of the system is according to Nature. Commencing with the Matter, s it proceeds to the Form, which is to take shape and character, and all its qualities, from that primitive ma- terial for whose sake alone it has any existence at all. " Wei may men knowen. but it be a fool, That every part deriveth from his hool. For Nature hath not taken his beginning Of no partie ne cantel of a thing, But of a thing that parfit is and stable Descending so, til it be corrumpable." Chaucer. The Avhole tendency of such a theory of Rhetoric is to produce, in practice, masculine and thoughtful dis- course. The student, if we may use the term, is head- ed right, by it, and is taught to apply his best power to the evolution of truth and the production of thought in his own mind, not surely to the neglect of the Form in which it is to be expressed, but in order to the high- PREFACE. XI est and most perfect elaboration of the Form. He is taught to be severe with himself, to forget himself in the theme, that he may exhibit it with that boldness and freedom of manner, that daring strength and gran- deur of treatment, which is absolutely beyond the reach of him who is anxious respecting the impression he may make — who, in short, is tormented by too much consciousness of self, at a time when he should be absorbingly conscious of the theme. According to the theory here presented, the oration, — meaning by this, every rounded and complete dis- course, — is the evolution of an Idea, which is the germ and principle of the whole composition. Hence it is simple in its structure, and homogeneous in its char- acter — fitted to enlist the whole attention of the hearer, and to produce one distinct total impression. Nothing can be of greater benefit to the student, than, in the very beginning of his intellectual life, to be hab- ituated to compose in the light, and by the guidance, and under the impulse, of Ideas — than to be enabled to discover those germinal truths which are pregnant with life, and which, when embodied with freedom and power in a discourse, constitute the ground-work of the finest creations of the human mind. And apart from Xli PREFACE. the benefit which is to be derived from this habit and ability, for the practical purposes of Rhetoric, what a benefit is derived from it in respect to the private con- templations and enjoyment of the scholar ! Supposing he does not need this ability, because he is never called upon to speak or write to his fellow-men, (a supposi- tion that is hardly to the credit of an educated man in this peculiar age,) does he not need it, in order that his own mind may reach essential truth, and may, in its own reflections, follow the method and order of Rea- son. In what a serene and constant illumination does that mind dwell, which is able in its meditations to find the fontal truth as it were by instinct, and to un- fold it by its own light, and in accordance with its own structure ! By such a theory the student is introduced into the world of Ideas, Laws and Principles, and is taught to begin with these, and from them to work out towards detail, elaboration and ornament. It is a mysterious world, it is true, and it must be, from the very fact that it is the source and origin. But it is the very office- work of thinking, to convert these Ideas into clear con- ceptions ; to put these vast unlimited truths into defi- PREFACE. Xlll nite and intelligible discourse ; in fine, in the strict meaning of the term, to develope truth. He is the mystical and obscure discourser who leaves truth as he finds it ; who does not, by the aid of close thinking and a rigorous, remorseless logic, compel the dark truthful Idea to yield up its secret ; who does not force the contents out of the all-comprehending Law or Principle. And he is the clear and intelligible discour- ser, in the only high sense of the term, — clear while solid, intelligible while weighty, — who, not starting in light to make things light, starts in darkness and works his way out into high noon. In both the Pagan and Christian cosmogonies, Creation emerged from Old Night. But if we are not mistaken, the theory presented in this work is true in its substance. It teaches that El- oquence is moral in essence ; that it has a moral ori- gin, moral means and movement, and a moral end. It teaches, with what may seem pertinacity to some, that in its substance and its accidents, its primary laws and secondary rules, Eloquence is ethical. This is not a new theory. As the Author remarks, it was distinctly announced by the elder Cato, and XIV PREFACE. mentioned with approbation by Quintilian, a critic whose exquisite taste often brought him to an indistinct intimation of truths, which a more profound genius would have brought out into distinct intuition. It has, moreover, been the tacitly-received theory of all the great minds — the really eloquent — of the race. We have it on the authority of Cicero,* that u Socrates di- cere solebat, omnes, in eo, quod scirent, satis esse elo- quentes." By this he could only mean, that the moral feeling and interest generated by clear knowledge of truth, is the ground of that methodical, earnest, and animating mental action which we denominate Elo- quence — a truth which may be found substantially, if not formally, falling from the lips of Socrates in the Gorgias. Add to this the decisive statement of Buffon, "Le style — e'est Phomme," which meets with an equal- ly decisive response within us, together with the views of Eloquence left us in the remarkable fragments of Pascal, and we find that the theory in question is no newly broached one, but one that is unconsciously formed by the thoughtful and eloquent mind every- where. * De Oratore. L, 14. PREFACE. XV Most certainly the tendency and influence of such a theory of Eloquence must be good and elevating. Set- ting aside the fact, that if it be the true theory, it is the only one by the aid of which Eloquence can come into existence, it is the only working theory — it is most cer- tainly a great point gained, if an Art, so often supposed to be at farthest remove from earnestness and serious- ness, which is regarded too commonly as the Art by which the ornaments are furnished when the solid and real work has been done, is shown to have its native seat and source in Ethics. The expression of thought by this theory becomes a sincere process, and the mind, while giving utterance to its reflections, is really con- tributing to the moral culture and developement of the man. The productions of such a Rhetoric are marked by that grave and conscientious character which is the natural fruit of simplicity and sincerity in the mental processes. The influence of the theory is felt even in the language employed. It is no longer stiff, stilted, and aloof from the thought, but pliant, vital, and con- substantial with it. Finally, it is believed that the theory of Eloquence here set forth, harmonizes with the true theory of Art. Perhaps the greatest defect in many of the current XVI PREFACE. treatises upon Rhetoric is the absence of correct views of the principles of Art. Oratory is confessedly one of the Fine Arts ; and how, then, can a clue to its mystery and power be obtained without a philosophic knowl- edge of those laws and principles by which Embodi- ment, whether in Nature or Art, is regulated and im- pelled ? We say Embodiment whether in Nature or Art, be- cause the method of each is essentially the same. In both, a creative Idea is the starting point and the guid- ing principle, and the movement in both is free and original. A genuine work of Art is no more a copy or a mechanical production, than a work in Nature is. It is not the product of ingenuity improved by practice and experience, but of impulsive genius, and the same characteristics are found in it, according to the degree of its perfection as a work of Art, that are found in Na- ture. Indeed, we demand that a work of Art have Na- ture in it, i. e., be original, fresh, living, glowing, breath- ing ; a demand that would be unreasonable if there were no likeness at bottom between Art and Nature. As Nature, according to Sir Thomas Brown, is the Art of God, so Art is man's Nature, and sustains the same PREFACE. XV11 relation to the Finite mind that Creation does to the Infinite. By this is not meant, of course, that it sustains the same relation materially, but only formally. The work of Art is the creation of the Finite Imagination, in the sense that it is the embodiment and result of an Idea, a productive thought, which sprang from the in- nermost recesses of this human faculty. As Nature is the result and embodiment of divine Ideas, so Art is the result and embodiment of human Ideas. The two differ from each other as the Infinite differs from the Finite, but they are alike, as reason in man is the same in kind with reason in God. We say, then, that the work of Art is formally — i. e., in respect to its origin from a productive Idea, and in respect to the plastic method of its construction, — like the work of Nature ; that man, the Artist, works creatively, not in the abso- lute and highest sense of creating something out of no- thing, in which sense God is the only creator, but in the secondary yet significant sense of embodying Ideas, of producing works to which the terms applied to the works of Nature, find a natural and spontaneous appli- cation, the world over. PREFACE. Now, it is evident that Rhetoric, whose office it is to guide the student into the right method of embodying his thought, and which is the very science of Form, should itself be formative, constructive, plastic. But how is such a Rhetoric possible, if the theory that is formed is not only not conformed to, but positively contradicts, the laws and principles of what, after the remarks above made upon Nature and Art, may be de- nominated Universal Art ? Plainly, then, it is only by a deep and true insight into the nature of Art, in its widest sense, that a system of Rhetoric can arise that will lead to the production of works appealing with power to the imagination as well as the intellect. This treatise of Theremin, while it strictly distin- guishes Eloquence by virtue of its moral character and its external aim and end, from a merely artistic process, at the same time sufficiently recognizes the aesthetic element in it, and while, by some, the Author might be thought to have carried out his theory too rigorously, and have shown too much fear lest the high ethical character of Eloquence should be suffered to lose it- self in the lower sphere of mere Art, he has by this very thing imparted to Eloquence a still higher char- acter and a still more energetic power. For by thus PREFACE, XIX insisting that, while the means employed by Eloquence may be aesthetic, and the form in which it appears ar- tistic, the great end constantly aimed at must be mor- al, and only moral, the Author has furnished a Rhe- toric that is not only formative and plastic, but organ- ific, and has thus superinduced life upon the lifeless. Art in this case passes over into the production of liv- ing realities ; the old fable of Pygmalion becomes ac- tuality ; the oration is not only a beautiful and fault- less Form, it is also a living Soul. The work has been translated mainly for the pur- pose of furnishing a text-book,. to be used in a free re- productive manner in giving instruction in the depart- ment of Rhetoric. It is believed, however, that any one who shall make use of it, by entering into its spirit and method in a free and independent manner, will find more or less in it promotive of a sound way of thought, and a serious deep-toned Eloquence. THE TRANSLATOR. University of Vermont, Nov. 2Uh, 1849. ELOaUENCE A VIRTUE; OR, OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. BOOK I. CHAPTER I. DESIGN AND USE OF THE PROPOSED INVESTIGATION. It has often surprised me, that while in modern times the theory of the Fine Arts, and especially of Poetry, has reached so high a degree of clearness and completeness, Rhetoric still consists of unconnected principles, and is not competent either to guide the practice of Eloquence by sure rules, or to give sat- isfactory information with respect to the nature and qualities of the subject of which it treats — of Eloquence itself. Hence it has seemed to me not to be superfluous to make the attempt, whether the gift of Eloquence cannot be represented as one of the fundamental powers of man, and whether its laws cannot 2 2 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, be derived from one of the higher philosophical sciences, so that everything uncertain and mutable may disappear from the Theory as well as the Practice of it. I must, indeed, fear that such an undertaking will appear useless to many, and that I shall be asked " What is gained by Theories generally ? Has all the philosophizing upon Art, in modern times, produced a more beautiful bloom of Poetry ? Did not Eloquence attain its highest perfection among the an- cients, although probably among them, as among us, its high- est principle either remained unknown, or at least, never dis- tinctly presented itself to the orator ? Only by means of rules which were drawn from experience, and which had respect to individual particulars in the formation of the oration, only by means of a constant practice which began in earliest youth and never ceased, and not by means of general theories, did De- mosthenes and Cicero form themselves ; only by means of a similar discipline, and not by means of text-books, can Elo- quence, which has sunk so very low among us, be raised up, if indeed it is to be raised up at all." These objections would be perfectly well grounded, if Elo- quence, since the establishment of the Christian Church, had not appeared in a form entirely unknown to the ancients, and one to which we are obliged to have special reference. The political and civil relations amidst which, exclusively and alone, Eloquence appeared among the ancients, were sufficient of themselves to secure it from deviations from the true course, and to render more precise theories unnecessary. For him, who spoke before the court or in the popular assembly upon a mat- ter which would be decided immediately upon the close of his OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 6 oration, the effect was the surest proof whether he had spoken well or not ; and when the highest personal interests were at stake, it was very natural that the orator should call forth all his powers in order to succeed, and that he would learn to un- derstand and avoid those faults which might draw after them the loss of wealth, influence, life, and freedom. The sacred orator, on the contrary, stands in a relation to his hearer, and treats of a subject, which do not allow of such decisive proof. Whether he has instructed, edified, improved, or has merely superficially pleased and moved his hearer, the effect of his ser- mons can very seldom inform him, since this, from its very na- ture, remains concealed in the mind, and almost never comes into sight. Since therefore he is not, like the orator before the court and in the popular assembly, impelled towards the pre- scribed end by a pressing danger ; since he is not shut up with- in such narrow limits, which render deviation to the right or left almost impossible, he runs the greatest risk of error, if without settled theory and principles. He must be able to give the most accurate account, to his own mind, of all that he does ; and that deeper insight into the principles of Eloquence, which the ancient orator did not need, is indispensable to him. Moreover, many are of opinion that Eloquence, which in Greece and Rome reached so high a degree of perfection, dis- appeared from the earth with the destruction of ancient freedom, and never again found its home upon it. According to this opinion, Eloquence is therefore less an original impulse in man, than Poetry ; it is a creature of circumstances, by which it is not only more or less favored, but is produced and destroyed ; the republican constitutions of antiquity were necessarv to its 4 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, developement ; and now, when social life, the spirit of the age, and the form of government, are so entirely different, that which we call Eloquence is either utterly unworthy of this name, or is only the mere shadow of that ancient powerful faculty/* Whether this opinion is well grounded or not, can be known only after such an investigation as we are intend- ing to institute. If we do not succeed in showing that Elo- quence is one of the fundamental powers in man, this opinion will stand unassailed, and whoever in modern times thinks himself to be an orator must simply give up his pretensions. But if we do succeed, and do actually point out a particular original power, whose developement in a certain direction ne- cessarily produces Eloquence, then Eloquence is no longer the ephemeral bloom of a particular age ; and although it may conceal itself, and sometimes may appear under another name, it nevertheless lives a life just as real and forceful, in modern, as in ancient times. Finally, there are men — and men, too, highly distinguished for learning and science, — who set a very low estimate upon Eloquence, and would have nothing to do with it. For, in their opinion, it is perfectly clear that its purpose is to excite the feelings, which is always useless, and sometimes even in- jurious ; nay, Eloquence commonly carries its pretensions still further, and, in the best orators, it is the design plainly prominent, and even acknowledged by themselves, to master the heart, to rule the will, and turn it whithersoever they * Magna ista et notabilis eloquentia .... quae in bene consti- tutis civitatibus non oritur.— De Cans. Corr. Elog., c. 40. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. D wish. But this, from its very nature, whatever be the manner in which it is done, is not at all compatible with the relations in which man stands to his fellow-man, and is therefore, strict- ly considered, contrary to morality ; and the more so, from the fact, that commonly the orator makes use of cunning and deceptive tricks of art, rather than honorable weapons. In their opinion, we should address the understanding alone, and satisfy it by means of stringent arguments ; all excitement of the Feelings, and influencing of the Will, were better omit- ted. This class of opponents, as has been remarked, is a very important one ; at its head stand names of distinction — Aris- totle^' among the ancients, Kantf among the moderns ; their objections have the very strongest appearance of truth, and as yet have not been answered in a satisfactory manner by any of the modern advocates of Eloquence, who have made far too little of them. But this question also, whether there " 'AAA' o\tjs ovaris irpds 66%av rrjs rpayfxareiag rrjg ire pi rrjv prjropiKriv, ov% v$ opdios k'xovros, 'aW tog dvayKaiov rrjv eiripii\eiav iroirjriov. Rhetor., Lib. Ill, c. 1. t I must confess, that while a beautiful poem always gives me pure pleasure, the perusal of the best orations of the popular orators of Rome, or the parliamentary or pulpit orators of the present time, is al- ways accompanied with the disagreeable feeling of disapprobation to- wards a cunning art which understands how to move men like machines, to a judgment which, upon calm after- thought, must lose all its worth with them. Oratory, considered as the art of making use of the weak- nesses of men, for its own purposes, (be these never so well meant, or be they actually good, as they are always intended to be,) is worthy of no esteem at all. — Critik der Urtheilskraft. p. 215. It is also said of Eloquence, in the Dialogue de Caus. Corr. Eloq., c. 40, that it is " alumna licentias, quam stulti libertatem vocabant, comes seditionum, effrenati populi incitamentum, sine obsequio, sine servitute, contumax, temeraria, adrogans." 1* 6 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, is anything contrary to morality in the attempt to acquire mastery over the minds of others, can be decided only by means of such an investigation as we contemplate. For, if it should actually turn out to be impossible to derive each and all of the rules of Eloquence from one and the same funda- mental principle ; if the theory of Eloquence should be found to consist only of some maxims derived from experience and observation, which can be brought together under no unity, this would certainly be a very strong presumption against it. The impossibility of constructing its fundamental principles philosophically, would greatly lower it, and would throw it into the same class with other abilities of an ambiguous na- ture, in relation to which this same thing occurs — with Pru- dence, Worldly Wisdom, Hypocrisy, or, in the phrase of Pla- to, 2 ^ with the art of Cookery. If, however, we succeed in lay- ing down an all-comprehending principle as the ground of Eloquence, it will then appear of itself, whether this is good or bad ; although Eloquence would be acquitted of all charges on the score of being contrary to morality, from the mere phi- losophical form of its theory, since that which depends upon a fundamental power of man, cannot possibly contradict his moral sense. * Platonis Georgias ed. Heindorf, p. 53. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. CHAPTER II. ELOQUENCE IS NOT SOMETHING BETWEEN POETRY AND 4 PHILOSOPHY. Three different characteristics of Eloquence attract notice immediately upon the first examination. First, it is evident that Eloquence seeks to separate the true from the false, and to satisfy the understanding by argument. The powerful enthymemes of Demosthenes, the assertion of Aristotle that Eloquence is akin to Dialectics, and Cicero's affirmation that he had made himself an orator, not in the schools of the Rhe- toricians, but in the walks of the Academy,^ testify plainly enough to the affinity of Eloquence with Philosophy. Se- condly, Eloquence approximates to Poetry also, through the liveliness of its representations, and the use of turns and fi- gures which are similar to those of Poetry. But, thirdly, Eloquence is distinguished from Philosophy as well as Poetry by the outward end after which it strives, by that mastery over minds, which it does not quietly wait for, but obtains by a struggle, and by the innumerable references which must be regarded in such a striving, and which are entirely foreign to Philosophy as well as to Poetry. Characteristic marks of three kinds, therefore, are to be * Fateor me oratorem, non ex rhetorum officinis, sed ex academic spatiis extitisse. — Orator, c 3. ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR found in Eloquence : 1. An affinity with philosophy ; 2. An affinity with Poetry ; 3. A striving after an outward end. In order to find a fundamental principle of Eloquence, one of these three characteristics must be made predominant; for they cannot exist beside each other in equal dignity. Should it be affirmed that the Beautiful and the True, which in Poetry and Philosophy are principal, in Eloquence appear as adjuncts and subservient to outward ends, the difficulty is not yet re- moved ; for the question ever returns — What is the law ac- cording to which the True and the Beautiful may be used for the attainment of outward ends ? So long as this is not given, Eloquence*- has not found its highest fundamental principle. If we take our stand upon this point of view, where Elo- quence appears as something fluctuating between Philosophy, Poetry, and mere Worldly Wisdom, the theory projected in ac* cordance with this view, cannot satisfy the philosopher ; and just as little will it be a sure guide for the pupil in oratory. First, the teacher says to him, " You must select a subject, and must endeavor to treat it fundamentally," This he does in all faithfulness, and thus, imperceptibly, there arises under his hands a philosophic essay. " This is good for nothing," says the teacher, * where is the rising sweep, the life, the poetic ornament, by which these truths are to make an entrance ?" This censure seems just to him, and he now throws himself into the other extreme, and that which he produces is the most disagreeable of all caricatures — poetic prose. Having once more failed, it is now said to him, " You discourse as if you were alone by yourself, with no hearers before you, into whose circumstances, into whose way of thinking, you must enter !" OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 9 Who will find fault with the pupil, if at this point he falls into a sort of desperation, and addresses his instructor somewhat after this manner : " In Heaven's name ! what is that you re- quire of me ? Am I to unite, in one, three things entirely- different from each other : philosophic profundity, poetic or- nament, and reference to an outward end ? Tell me first, if this union is possible ; and if it is, then give me the higher principle under which three so different requisitions can be brought into one ; show me the rule which determines how much I may concede to the subject-matter, how much to beauty of form, how much to the hearer, in order that each may co- exist with all, and that an unlucky preponderance may not oscillate from one side to another. For I can now no longer cast my work in an old form, without troubling myself about the wherefore, without asking myself why that which I pro- duce must look precisely thus, and whether it might not look entirely differently ; I wish in my oration, from beginning to end, to see the necessity of every single part. So then show me the principle which groups all others under itself, and from which all rules readily derive themselves/' 10 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, CHAPTER III. ELOQUENCE IS NEITHER POETRY NOR PHILOSOPHY. If, therefore, one of the three characteristic marks of Elo- quence is to be made the fundamental one, it might be supposed that its affinity with Poetry is the one, and that the same fun- damental principle which reigns in the representations of Poetry must also guide in the practice of Oratory. But this would pre-suppose that Eloquence give up its striving after an outward end, as something incompatible with Poetry, which it cannot do without renouncing its own nature and peculiarity — or else that Poetry adapt itself to this striving, and to all the references connected with it, which is equally impossible. When Poetry clothes its ideas in forms, it can demand nothing more than the perception and recognition, that the idea is perfectly suited to the form, and the form to the idea ; its design can never be to implant the ideas, which it has wrought out with such pleasure to itself, in another mind ; the one process would injure the other ; in the two-fold effort to exhibit his own mind and to work upon the mind of another, the Poet would succeed in neither. Indeed, nothing is so very much suited to produce the feeling of displeasure and disgust as an oration overloaded with poetical ornament ; we pity the ignorance which selects means so unsuitable for its ends ; we are indignant at the profanation which would force OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 11 Poetry to subserve outward ends. Eloquence, therefore, can- not be regarded as a part of Poetry. But, secondly, is it not possible to make the Philosophic element in it the fundamental principle of Eloquence? Since in Eloquence, as in Philosophy, Ideas are presented in a certain sequence and in a certain connection, its coincidence with the art of Philosophizing might be so great as that it should fall into this and constitute only a part of it. But here the very obstacle which rendered the union of Elo- quence with Poetry impossible, shows itself again — that striving, namely, after an outward end, which is just as es- sential to Eloquence as it is foreign to Philosophy. Philoso- phy can recognize no other law by which its representations are to be guided, than that which lies in the Ideas themselves ; these Ideas themselves are simply to come forth in their greatest possible clearness, and in their greatest possible com- pass. The problem of Eloquence, on the contrary, is to gain over to its Ideas a mind thus or thus disposed. The laws which Philosophy follows in its representations cannot there- fore be the highest and sole rules of Eloquence, since, besides these, it has still others to obey which are imposed upon it by the outward end after which it strives. This truth is of the greatest importance for the success of our investigation, and I must call attention to it the more, since from the great tendency of the Germans to Philoso- phizing, it is certainly to be feared that it will meet with op- position from many of my readers. " Is not,' 2 it may be ob- jected, " this profound and powerful developement of Ideas, which is the essential element in the Philosophic representa- 12 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, tion, itself also the most infallible means of making an entrance for these Ideas into the minds of others,"~and thus of fulfilling all the requisitions of Eloquence ?" Let one make this attempt, but let him make it with thoroughness, without suffering himself to be diverted by circumstances from the purpose once fixed upon. Let one lose himself entirely in the Idea ; let him develope it in its whole compass ; let him not omit even the least of all that can serve to exhibit it still more clearly ; let him forget, as is fitting, the place where he stands ; let him confine himself to no definite time, but speak until his subject is exhausted ; let him not trouble himself about his hearers, about the degree of their culture, about their ca- pacities, qualities, prejudices, and inclinations ; in a word, let him seek only to express his own mind ; — will such a discourse be adapted to gain over an opposing mind and to transfer the sentiments of the orator into his hearers ? I think not. Hence no one who refers the Rhetorical manner and method to the Philosophical, is able in his practice to remain true to his theory. Imperceptibly he concedes something to time, to place, to the occasion, to the hearers ; and thus there arises a product which is neither Philosophical nor Rhetorical, and which can satisfy no one who is accustomed to judge of things with strictness. If I understand him rightly, Aristotle makes this attempt, which must ever be a failure, to connect Eloquence with the art of Philosophizing, in order to obtain a simple, firm, con- stituent principle for it. In the very beginning of his work he lays down the position that Eloquence is akin to Dialectics, and it seems as if all is to be derived from this, and that Rheto- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 13 ric is in this way to acquire a scientific unity. But this first assertion compels him to a second, by which Eloquence be- comes strangely limited in its sphere. " In Eloquence," he says, " which depends upon Dialectics, the arguments are the only thing pertaining to the art, and it should, properly, con- fine itself simply to showing whether a thing has or has not happened. It is owing to the imperfection of governments alone, that Eloquence has introduced the Ideas of Justice and Injustice into its sphere, and assumes to excite the Feelings." Now, it would be interesting to see what sort of a Rhetoric would have arisen, if Aristotle had strictly maintained and carried out this principle ; but whether it was because an Eloquence so narrrowly limited did not satisfy him, or be- cause he felt himself obliged to take Eloquence as he found it in actual existence, he lets the principle drop again imme- diately. Hence we are not a little surprised to see how soon he is no longer content with the purely dialectic arguments, but, besides these, calls in those means of persuasion also which lie in the moral state of the orator and in the inward condition into which the hearer has been put. But, in order to the apprehension of these, Dialectics no longer suffices ; the knowledge of the virtues and the affections is requisite for this, and Aristotle finds himself compelled to the acknow- ledgment that Eloquence is no longer akin to Dialectics alone, but also to the Ethical science called Politics. Thus he gets a fundamental principle having a two-fold nature, and destructive of all scientific unity — a quality, moreover, that is not to be met with again in the whole work. 2 14 ELOCIUENCE A VIRTUE ; GR 5 CHAPTER IV, ELOQUENCE IS A VIRTUE. Since, therefore, Rhetoric cannot acquire a scientific form* if Eloquence is to be regarded as something fluctuating between Poetry and Philosophy ; since, furthermore, it can be subor- dinated neither to Poetry nor Philosophy, there is only one way left to find its highest fundamental principle — if it has one, — namely, to examine the third of the characteristic qualities noticed in it, the striving after an outward end, and to see if it will not lead to a firm fundamental principle. Production in Poetry and Philosophy is a species of ac- tivity which may be denominated the isolated, or that which retreats into itself again. For it simply unfolds an Idea, and in the process has no other end but this Idea and its unfold- ing. That which has been formed in this way can, indeed, like all that exists, exert an outward influence ; yet it never owes its origin to the design of exerting such an influence. There is another species of Activity, which always aims at an outward change, either in the sentiments and conduct of men, or in the social and family relations, or in the civil and ecclesiastical. Now, to this species of Activity — the sum-total of which constitutes Social Life — Eloquence also belongs, and it is so entirely implicated in the circumstances existing at the particular time, that even in thought it cannot be separated OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 15 from, them. For although it is easy enough in the case of a tragedy of Sophocles, to contemplate it as something existing for itself, and to think of it as separated from all the civil re- lations of the poet, such a separation in the case of an oration by Demosthenes cannot be so effected in the least degree. Nothing in it is an isolated piece of art ; nothing can be torn out from the web of circumstances in which it was spoken ; only in connection with these does it constitute a unity, which again was nothing but an act, — a point in the political career of the orator. When the ancient orators appeared, their discourse was an action in the strictest and most com- mon signification of the word ; an action that was none the less worthy of the name, and none the less powerful, because they made use of speech instead of limbs, weapons, or other instruments. Nay, even in our unrhetorical times, if one were to regard the discourses of a sacred orator as a series of little separate pieces of art, delivered every Sunday, everybody cer- tainly would protest against such a view, and demand that his orations be regarded as individual attempts to influence his hearers, — as individual acts in the discharge of his calling ; whereby they would also become lost in the sum- total of his social influence. But since all the influence of man in his various relations is, or should be, under the guidance of the moral law, the practice of Eloquence — inasmuch as it is, in reality, influence of this sort — can be subjected to no other than Ethical laws. Eloquence strives to produce a change in the sentiments and conduct of other men ; the question, after its fundamental principles, therefore, becomes changed quite na- turally into this ; What are the laws according to which a free 16 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OK, being may exert influence upon other free beings ? And the answer to this question can be derived only from Ethics. We will attempt to answer it. And if it shall turn out that all the rules of Eloquence, which have been truly and cor- rectly acknowledged as such, but which have been placed be- side each other in no inward connection, can be derived from the laws, according to which a free being may exert influence upon other free beings, there will be no doubt that Rhetoric, considered as the theory of Eloquence, is a part of Ethics, and that Eloquence itself is an ability to exert influence ac- cording to ethical laws — that is, is a Virtue. In this way, moreover, the perplexity will be removed in which Theorizers find themselves when they would deter- mine whether Eloquence is an art or not, and generally, what it is in reality. They cannot declare it to be an art, since it is plain that it aims at the attainment of an outward end, and not at a free and uninterested representation of the Beautiful. To the level of a trade, however, it cannot be degraded ; hence a distinction is made between fine and non-fine, aesthetic and non-sesthetic, arts ; strange expressions and difficult to be un* derstood ! # Into this latter class Eloquence is thrown, with the additional remark, that it merits the name of an art, in so far as we connect with this term the conception of a prac- tised and cultivated capacity and ability to produce works w r hose individual parts in their closest connection unite for * Schott's Theory of Eloquence, 1807, p. 17. Fundamental Princi- ples of Rhetoric and Homiletics, by the same, 1815, p. 420. — A con- densed summary of the first mentioned work of Schott, by Prof. Parl$. may be found in the Bibliotheca Sacra. — T?\ OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 17 one and the same end. Under this conception, however, be- longs also every ability of a mechanical kind, and hence no- thing is added to the dignity of Eloquence by such a dis- tinction. But if the view of Eloquence brought forward by us can be maintained, not only a much more settled and defi- nite place would be secured to it, but also a place in the high- est degree honorable. It would belong to that which is high- est among men, to Virtue ; and could be called an Art only in so far as the name of Art could be given to Virtue itself. But in saying that Eloquence is a virtue, it is by no means meant that a certain degree of moral excellence is enough in order to Eloquence, and that all that is usually derived from Art, Learning, and Science, can be dispensed with. It is only meant that the arrangement and definition of that which Elo- quence derives to itself from these different departments, be- longs peculiarly to Ethical laws ; but this is the very thing that is demanded of a highest fundamental principle. Who, for ex- ample, would deny that the imagination is the highest law- giver for the painter ? And yet no painting can be completed by the imagination alone. There is needed, besides, mechan- ical skill, knowledge of colors, of perspective, of anatomy, of history ; the imagination as the highest fundamental principle, merely determines how each of these knowledges and abilities shall be applied. In like manner, means of various kinds are necessary to the orator, according to the different relations which he sustains, and according to the different ends which he proposes to himself, which are to be obtained only by study and practice ; but that which determines where, how, and in what degree, each of the existing means shall be applied, is 2* 18 ELOaUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, the Ethical law, to which belongs every judgment regarding our relations, our ends, and our social influence. So that here the moral law does not merely point out the time for the action, leaving the guidance of the action to another principle, as would be the case in the practice of any particular art ; but Eloquence, in all its various forms, is nothing but the develope- ment of the Ethical impulse itself. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 19 CHAPTER V. IDEAS. But what is the tenor of this highest law of Eloquence, which, according to what has been said, must necessarily be an Ethical one? It does not seem to us to be necessary here to unfold from the bottom a new and peculiar system of morals ; it will be sufficient to consider closely the relation which the orator sustains to the hearer. The few positions which we shall lay down, will, it is hoped, meet with a confirmatory re- sponse in the moral feeling of every cultivated man. The orator has plans and designs which he would realize, and to this end he must first overcome the sluggishness of in- different minds, and give them an impulse to action ; and secondly, he must overcome those who openly oppose, and carry them along with him. But he has no compulsory authority at all over the minds of others ; he is not a law- giver, who ordains the relations of men, and thus gives them direction in a mediate, yet sure and irresistible manner ; he is not a ruler, who leads a whole people hither and thither, because he has control over the possessions, life, and standing of every individual. He stands upon a perfect equality with those upon whom he would exert an influence ; and since his relation to them ensures him no open authority over their freedom, he may not surreptitiously obtain it in any secret manner ; he must respect their freedom, and neither by exciting 20 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR. their emotions, nor deluding their understandings, deprive them of this prerogative. The hearer who is carried away, must, at the same time, act independently also ; and while he follows the will of the orator, he must not merely believe that he is following his own will, but must actually follow it. But how is the solution of such a difficult, and, as it would seem, insoluble problem, rendered possible ? From the fact that there is something altogether universal and necessary which all men will — something which they must will, from their moral nature ; from the fact that the true freedom of man is constantly striving after the realization of certain ideas, which can be enumerated and distinctly pointed out. The orator, therefore, has satisfied all the requisitions of morality, as soon as he has carried back his present design to one of those ideas which every individual of his hearers wishes to realize. For, in this way, the freedom of one man is not de- stroyed by the influence of another upon him ; he only fulfils from an impulse from without, what he is constantly seeking to fulfil from an inward impulse. The highest law of Elo- quence, therefore, is this : — the idea which the orator wishes to realize, is to be carried back to the necessary ideas of the hearer. Of these necessary ideas we must now obtain a more dis- tinct apprehension. Ideas, generally, are productive thoughts, which impel to production and action, and are themselves the germ of that which is to be produced, as well as the rule by which its form is to be constructed. As there are plastic,* * Plastic is here used in its strict signification, to denote that which pertains to sculpture, including works both in stone and bronze.— Tr. OCTLIXES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 21 musical, poetic ideas, from which the creations in each of these spheres of art originate ; so there are also ethical ideas, which are destined to be embodied in life, which lie in the reason, must be pre-supposed to be in every man considered as a being endowed with reason, and are, moreover, actually in-dwelling in every one, though not in equal clearness and liveliness. For the mind in action, these ideas flow together into one, and form a whole, which flames before it as the one highest, after which it strives, and which is capable of an out- ward realization in its action. But in reflection, and in verbal statement, this one highest divides into three different ideas, according as it is referred to the circumstances under which action occurs, or to the character of the subject who acts, or to the necessary inward and outward consequences of the ac- tion. Every man wills the highest, in so far as it is closely determined and conditioned by his peculiar relations ; this is the Idea of Duty, Every man wills to be inclined and able to produce the highest at all times, and everywhere ; this is the Idea of Virtue. Every man wills that each and every one of his actions produce a series of internal and external conse- quences that will render the production of the highest easier for him in future ; this is the Idea of Happiness. In a word, every man wills to fulfil his duty, wills to form himself to vir- tue, wills to promote his own happiness.^ These are the ne- * The author here means to say that man wills to fulfil his duty, to form himself to virtue, and to promote his own real happiness, ideally — not actually. By virtue of his moral constitution, he wills and must will this, though by reason of sin he actually does not. But the orator must address man as he came from his Creator, and not as he has made himself; he must appeal to that which is highest in him, even although 22 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; Oft, cessary practical ideas which are to be met with in every man, and freedom consists only in following these ideas uncondi- tionally. It is plain now, in what consists the first duty of the ora- tor. The hearer, while he is borne along, is, nevertheless, to remain free, and through the whole of his oration the orator is to carry back the idea everywhere present in it, to the neces- sary ideas of the hearer. He, in this way, shows them how, in order to fulfil their duty — in order to elevate themselves to virtue — in order to promote their happiness, they must also realize his propositions ; how the ideas of Duty, of Virtue, of Happiness, of themselves necessarily produce this very dispo- sition, necessarily impel them to the very conduct to which he would urge them. In this way, the orator not only respects the freedom of the hearer, but while he seems to overpower and utterly subject him, raises him, through the enlivenment of his ideas, to the very highest grade of an independent self- consciousness. It is for this reason, also, that men who abhor all compulsion, and are ready to resist all compulsory violence, love the orator and follow him gladly, because he gives them a direction, by means of ideas, the most powerful and certain, yet, at the same time, most innocent force by which men are controlled. "Whoever feels himself to be compelled, says Xenophon, "hates, as if he were deprived of some good; who- ever is persuaded, loves as if he had received a benefit."^ it does not find a realization in his actual life.. Only in this way can he profoundly move or elevate his hearer.^— ^V» * Memor. 1.2, 10. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 23 CHAPTER VI. THE POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS FORM OF PRACTICAL IDEAS. But only in the most general relations — relations in which men meet each other as free beings merely, and before any relation of a more limited sort has developed itself from this original relation, do the regulating ideas of the will appear as Duty, Virtue, and Happiness. Through every closer connection among men, by which that original relation is further devel- oped and unfolded, these ideas also obtain a stricter determin- ation, a wider unfolding, and, consequently, another name. There are, however, two relations among men which have the common aim to render easy the realization of practical ideas, and which have both been established by God, the one in a supernatural manner, the other by a necessity of nature. The first is the Church ; the second is the State. We will, in the first place, consider what form the ethical ideas assume in this latter relation. Since in the State the universal ethical law, in its application to particular cases, becomes more closely determined by positive laws and ordi- nances, Civil Law here comes in, in the place of Duty. Since, furthermore, in the State, the happiness of every individual consists in his activity as a citizen being unrestricted, and since this cannot be unless there is a flourishing condition of the commonwealth, the ethical idea of Happiness becomes changed mto the striving after the well-being of the State. 24 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, Lastly, Virtue here comes into notice only in so far as the highest — to the production of which it is disposed and suited— also promotes the well-being of the commonwealth, and in this reference Virtue is called Merit. Civil Law, the Common Weal, and Merit, are, consequently, the necessary ideas, by which every member of State, as such, is guided in his con- duct ; and the first duty of the orator, if he is dealing with his hearers as members of a State, consists in showing them how, through the execution of that which he proposes, Civil Law will be obeyed, the Common Weal will be promoted, and Civic Merit will be acquired* But these ideas attain a perfect unfolding, neither in the general ethical relations, nor in the particular political, since in these they remain shut up within the sphere of the earthly, which can never satisfy man, from his very nature. They acquire their highest dignity only through religion, and through their reference to the Deity, who imparts this reference to them. Hence they appear in the Church, where the Christian, as such, exercises an influence upon the Christian, regards his own activity as an efflux from the Deity, or as a striving to return back into Him, and thereby imparts to these ideas an actuating power, both for himself and others, of which they are always destitute when man does not rise above and be- yond his own individuality. In the Church, however, a divine institution, and under di- vine guidance, the human reason cannot be regarded as the highest law-giver ; God alone is the supreme law-giver who speaks to us through his natural word in the Conscience, and his revealed word in the Gospel, and gives us a rule of con- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 25 duct ; what, therefore, this commands in a particular instance, is not merely Duty, (an idea that carries man back no further than to himself merely,) but the Will of God. Furthermore, when the Christian contemplates that disposition of the soul which is constantly applying itself to good works, and is able to perform them, he cannot possibly stop at mere Virtue ; for this denotes that degree of moral perfection to which man can raise himself — which he can attain by a constant struggle with sin. But the Christian knows of something higher ; he be- holds moral perfection as it reigns, without struggle, and without conflict, in the divine Being ; and hence this perfect condition of the soul can, for him, consist only in resemblance to God, or, since the invisible God has become man, and has lived and acted in human relationships, in resemblance to Christ. Happiness, again, he cannot possibly seek in a series of states and conditions, each one of w T hich renders the pro- duction of the highest good, easier in the next following ; in- stead of this, his eye, pressing forward into eternity, beholds the final goal to which this series conducts — namely, intimate union with God, or Blessedness ; he, therefore, as his guiding idea, chooses this alone, which is the goal, and not Happiness, which conceived of in its highest ethical purity, can yet con- stitute only the way to this goal. Hence, when an orator contemplates himself and his hearers as members of the Church, his first duty consists in bringing the Idea which he would impart to them, into connection with the Ideas which he must necessarily presuppose in them ; and these, according to the foregoing, are the W r ill of God, Resemblance to God, Blessedness. If no one of these is 3 26 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, prominent in a sermon, as the point from which everything is viewed, so much is certain at least — the sermon does not belong to the sphere of Eloquence. It is not conceivable, however, why the sacred orator should deem it unworthy of his office to be at home in this sphere of Eloquence, since ac- cording to what has been said before, Eloquence is not only the most innocent of all influences, but is Virtue itself. It has shown itself to be such thus far, and, it is hoped, will prove itself to be such, still more, in what is to follow. I must here beg my readers to carefully note a result which flows with the greatest certainty from the investigation thus far, the truth of which, however, has never been strictly proved, nay, has been doubted by most — namely, that eccle- siastical Eloquence is entirely one and the same with politi- cal, as to its Ideas, 2. e., as to its nature. In saying this, however, we do not deny that they differ from one another in their outward form, in an important de- gree ; for Church and State are very different relationships, and relationships always exert a material influence upon every species of moral activity .^ ■ It is apparent furthermore, that even if it be granted that the political and judicial Eloquence of the Ancients has per- ished, still only one form of the thing, and not the very thing * Herder says in his letters upon the study of Theology, (letter 40,) " Whoever takes the judicial orations of Demosthenes and Cicero, as an absolute model for his sermons, has no true conception either of a sermon or of a judicial oration; he does not understand the true end of either." True, if he makes them an absolute model. But as I have pre- sented the matter, this objection would not, it is hoped, apply to my view. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 27 itself, has perished ; for this has risen again in Ecclesiastical Eloquence with a still higher splendor ; the Ideas upon which Eloquence is based have been made more splendid by passing through the medium of Religion, and whatever deficiency modern Eloquence may have in perfection of form, when com^ pared with ancient, it is compensated for by the superiority of its subject-matter, while, at the same time, it is to be re-f membered that perfection in the outward form is far more easily attained when the subject is of a less elevated nature, than when it is of the absolutely highest. Finally, it is ap- parent, that even if it be granted that Ecclesiastical Eloquence itself has disappeared, as is actually asserted by some, still Eloquence itself is not destroyed, but must be sought for in the intercourse of men, in their daily society. In a word, Eloquence is eternal, for it rests upon that which is eternal in man — upon his ethical Ideas.^ * L' eloquence peut se trouverdans les entretiens et dans tout genre d'ecrire. Elle est rarement, ou on la cherche, et elle est quelquefois ou on ne la cherche point. — La Bniyere. 28 ELOaUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, CHAPTER VII. THE DIFFERENT SPECIES OF ELOQUENCE. Although all three of these Ideas may be employed very pro- perly on one and the same occasion, as motive grounds, yet most commonly, the aim of the orator has a more easy refer- ence to one of them, which is then predominant, and to which the others, when they are employed, are subordinated. This circumstance led the Ancients to assume three species of ora- tions, of which one has Legality and Illegality, another, Public Advantage and Public Detriment, and the third, Civic Merit and Civic Demerit, for its subject-matter. The first is the ora- tion before the court of justice ; the second, the deliberative or political oration ; the third, the panegyrical or demonstra- tive oration. Correct as this division is, the Ancients have nevertheless, so far as I am aware, given no satisfactory ground for it, as indeed they were in general well fitted for comprehending and distinguishing the Actual, but were less successful in referring it to its higher principles. For that which Aristotle, from whom the later Rhetoricians derive this division,* offers in its justification,! has in truth more resem- blance to a jest, however earnest he may have been in it. There are, says he, as many species of orations as there are * auintil. Ill, 4. t Rhetor. I, 3. Cicero derives this division in the same way. De Partitione, c, III. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 29 species of hearers ; but the hearer is either a spectator or a judge, and this latter again, in respect to the Future, and in respect to the Past ; hence there arise the demonstrative, the deliberative, and the judicial orations. This supposition, of a hearer who is merely a spectator, is most remarkable. The demonstrative orations of the Sophists, (i. e., discourses having no other aim but to strike by the jingle of words,) were indeed listened to with applause in the time of Aristotle ; but this must be regarded only as a piece of bad taste, and not as a natural impulse in man, upon which to build philosor phically. Furthermore, although the relations in which the hearers usually stood to the orator in the ancient Kepublics, are imperfectly indeed denoted by this passing of judgment on the Past or the Future, yet it is by no means shown thereby, that there were only so many and could be no more of such relations/* On the contrary, if these three species of orations are placed beside the three Ideas above-mentioned, it is apparent that these are the only ground upon which the division in question rests. For since among the Ancients, only the political rela- tion reached any good degree of perfection, these Ideas could be actualized among them only under the form of the Legal and the Illegal, the Weal and the Detriment of the State, Civic Merit and its contrary, and this very relation is also assigned as the subject-matter of the three species. . If divisions are to be made at all in Eloquence, the different species cannot be determined by a reference to the Form * That also does not seem to be satisfactoiy which occurs to Q,u;n- tjlian, cuncta rimanti, III, 4. 3* 30 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, and Matter, and to the manner in which both interpenetrate each other ; in Poetry this can be done ; in Eloquence it cannot be,* for the reason, that the Form and the Matter vary with the relations which the orator and the hearer sustain, and these relations are too numerous to be specified. The leading Ideas are the permanent in Eloquence, the only thing which does not change ; and on this account, they of themselves alone furnish a ground of division. If , these three species constitute a valid division in political Eloquence, they must be found in sacred Eloquence also, since the fundamental Ideas are the same in both. To coun- sel for the well-being of the State, and to point out the way to eternal well-being, is a moral activity of one and the same kind ; as also there is no practical difference between accusing a criminal and inveighing against a vice, between praising a meritorious man and recommending a virtue. It is only to be regretted that the names by which the Ancients designated these species are suited to political Eloquence alone ; and it could be wished, that appellations of an entirely general char- acter might be introduced, which could be applied indiscri- minately to both political and sacred Eloquence. That species of oration which is based upon the Idea of Virtue was developed latest ; it first received its complete unfolding through the Church, to which the State was always unfavorable. For this reason, also, this species was never known among the Ancients in its purity. Aris- totle apprehends it merely on the side of the praise and * Oratorum genera esse dicuntur tamquam poetarum. Id secus est Cicero de optimo genere oratorum, c. I. I OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 31 blame which it dispenses, and makes it a demonstrative oration without any practical aim. Cicero, who adheres closely to this same view, doubts whether it can be regarded as a species at all, and whether it is necessary to give rules concerning it.* And contemplated from this point of view, it certainly does not belong to Eloquence. If a writer praises and censures with no other purpose but to praise and to censure, produc- tions of two kinds can arise : a Lyrical Poem, if the writer sur- renders himself to his feelings ; or an historical representation, if he follows the thread of a narrative. It will be an oration only in case the purpose to awaken a certain disposition in the hearer, — to determine him to a certain course of conduct, is connected with the praise and the censure. The Idea of Virtue is employed in this way certainly by the Ancients ; yet it is seldom predominant, and commonly is subordinate mere- ly, as when Demosthenes places before the Athenians the ex- ample of their forefathers as an incitement to great deeds, or pictures the worthlessness of an opponent in order to give greater weight to his defence or accusation. A peculiar species of oration, based upon the Idea of Vir- tue, was first formed in the Christian Church ; here the moral perfection, which is conceived of as being in God, which was manifested in Christ, after w T hich whole companies of saints strove, was exhibited to believers for imitation. With the panegyrical oration in praise of the saints, was soon conjoined the funeral oration, which is also constructed upon the Idea of Virtue, and which deserves the name of an oration only when, through commendation of the deceased, it seeks to * De Oratore, II, c. 11. 32 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR impel the hearer to good inclinations and resolutions. E very- department of Literature, nevertheless, has its limits, where it borders upon some other ; thus this species of oration, based upon the Idea of Virtue, forms the transition from Eloquence to the Lyrical Poem, on the one hand, and to Histo- rical Representation on the other. For this reason, the great- est care is requisite in the orator at this point, in order not to lose himself in one or the other. It would be forgetfulness of the relations in which he stands to his hearers, and, conse- quently, contrary to morality, if, without thinking of their benefit, he should give himself up entirely to his feelings, or should follow out a Historical Representation ; either of which may be done only so far as it contributes to the attainment of an ethical end. It is difficult, I acknowledge, for the ora- tor to describe his hero with some good degree of complete- ness, and still bring all under such a practical point of view as that he can be sure of exerting an influence upon the hearer. Yet the solution of this problem is not impossible s as the great models show. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 33 CHAPTER VIII. VIRTUE IS ALSO GOOD SENSE. In case the orator satisfies the requisitions of duty, by refer- ring the end he has in view to the ethical Ideas of the hearer, the question arises, whether this course is also in accordance with good sense, and whether there are not other and far more effectual means of gaining entrance to men's minds, and of giving them a direction. Should this be found to be the case — should it be found that the orator in reality has only to choose between acting contrary to good sense, by following out moral principles, or acting contrary to good morals, by following out the rules of good sense, we must then give up the design of giving a systematic form to the Theory of Elo- quence, since nothing is capable of a systematic form which is either essentially incomplete in itself, or stands in open contradiction to one of the fundamental impulses in man — the moral. But, furthermore, this question itself could not even arise, if the science of morals were only a little more developed than, alas, it actually is, although man has been employed in its unfolding for so many centuries. We should, in that case, see that Ethics, since it includes the whole con- duct of man, must also furnish the means requisite to attain rational ends ; that it cannot exist at all as a science, — that there can be, absolutely, no conduct in conformity with prin- ciples, if the same laws which prescribe our actions do not, at 34 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OB, the same time, also point out the way and means whereby they will best succeed. In accordance, however, with views now prevailing, we hear much of good sense, as an attribute which often leads aside from the path of morals, and which, in its resources, shrewdly derived from experience and personal ob- servation, furnishes us the surest means of attaining our ends. Whether this is so or not, I leave undecided ; but that for the orator the moral action is also good sense — L e., is the true way of attaining his ends — is already apparent, from the investigation thus far. For we have found this to be a law — namely, that the orator must make his design subserve the moral Ideas of his hearers, otherwise he must not attempt to give them a direction. But so very much is Virtue one with good sense, that this very reference to the moral Ideas of the hearer is the only infallible means of giving him a direc- tion. Will one here say, " No ! the orator must address him- self to the passions of men; he must make use of them where he finds them excited ; he must arouse them where he cannot pre -suppose their existence, for only in this way are minds and hearts swayed. Who will deny that they are not very often swayed in this way, and that a practised orator, who understands how to inflame the passions, is able to get the victory over a less practised orator, who aims only to awaken moral Ideas ?" The case, however, must not be stated in this way, but we must imagine two men of equal talents, one of whom takes hold of the hearer in the way pre- scribed by us, on the side of his moral Ideas — that is, on his stronger side, — and the other of whom endeavors to seize him by his weak side, to corrupt, to blind, to deceive him ; the OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 35 first, I affirm, will always succeed, the second will always fail. And, indeed, for this reason — because by virtue of his hu- man nature, moral Ideas are in-dwelling in every individual hearer, while, on the contrary, the possession of a human na- ture does not imply that man is controlled at all times by pas- sion, or even that he is peculiarly liable to be. Consequently, if the orator pre-supposes the presence of passion, it is very- possible for him to be mistaken ; and if the orator endeavors to excite passion, such an undertaking is always very doubt- ful, since a firm point to which he can fasten is wanting. This point, on the contrary, is always found, and the orator is always sure to awaken interest, so soon as he claims to have morality on his side. Secondly, even supposing that the passions exist as gene- rally in the hearer as the moral Ideas, yet these latter possess this advantage over the former, that they are the same in all, while the passions, on the contrary, are different in each indi- vidual. But the orator cannot address himself to each parti- cular individual ; one and the same effect is to be produced in the most diverse minds by one and the same oration. Now, how wanting in good sense would the orator be, if he should neglect the universal interest grounded in human nature, in order to speak of the particular interest grounded in a pas- sion which could affect only some particular minds, and with respect to which the most would be cold and indifferent ! In the third place, in addition to this, a very true remark, and one that is very much to the honor of man, applies here — namely, that taken singly, men may, indeed, be full of little 36 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, passions ; but so soon as they are collected in great masses, each one seems to give up the base portion of his individual- ity, in order to preserve the purely human in it, which is al- ways good. When man loses himself in a multitude, he is no longer the narrow-hearted creature governed by desire and self-seeking ; but his interests melt in with those of all the others, and, consequently, cannot be other than pure and noble. The greater, therefore, the assemblage is, the more large-minded must the orator be, or it is all over with him. Nay, even the deception which is so often employed by popular orators, proves that a direction can be imparted to men only by means of moral Ideas ; for how does the orator succeed even in this case ? By no means by appealing to Avarice or Revenge, directly, and endeavoring to inflame these passions ; for no one has ever been able to carry away a great multitude by this means. On the contrary, the art of the deceiver of the people has ever consisted in clothing the desires growing out of their particular passions in the garb of requirements, based upon the universal moral Ideas. Thus the Demagogues in the French Revolution were able to bring about their great results only by concealing their selfish designs un- der the Ideas of Justice, the Common Weal — i. e. 9 under moral Ideas ; and they could not but succeed, for owing to the mis- fortune of the times, there were none who were able to exhi- bit these Ideas in their pure form with equal force. But that the pure moral Ideas, when they are presented with power, gain the victory, (even in the most frivolous and corrupt minds,) over that false play with Ideas, the case of Demos- thenes proves, who beat down his opponent, not merely by OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 37 means of his massive Style and his perfect Declamation, but mainly by means of the purity of his Will, and the power of his moral Ideas. Fourthly, it is to be remembered that every hearer is by nature suspicious, particularly when he perceives that the right to influence his mind is claimed, and when he reflects that he should yield himself up only to one who appears to him to be an honest man. It is for this reason, also, that teachers of Rhetoric attach so much importance to the way in which the speaker appears to the hearer, and to the first im- pression which the hearer receives from the orator. But nothing is so difficult as to play the honest man, and one is far more readily taken for an honest man, if he really is one. For the consciousness of being in the right imparts a coloring to the style, and an emphasis to the tone, which an evil con- science can imitate only in part, never perfectly ; and the morally bad which peers through, will always induce a sus- piciousness in the hearer, which renders him less susceptible to influence. Hence, when Rousseau advised a young and afterwards very distinguished French advocate, Loiseau de Mauleon, to undertake the defence of only such causes as he was convinced were just, this was a Rhetorical rule, for the very reason that it was an ethical tule, and adapted to promote, in the same degree, both Integrity and Eloquence. 3S ELOaUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, CHAPTER IX. THE SUBORDINATE IDEAS OR CATEGORIES. The orator, in this moral striving to connect his particular Ideas with the universal and necessary Ideas of his hearers, is liable to meet with obstacles of three different kinds. Fij^t, there are the obscure and undeveloped conceptions which the hearer forms of the nature of things, whereby he may be pre- vented from recognizing something which the orator holds out (as e. g. t Duty, Virtue, or Happiness,) as really being such, and so from taking it up into his own Ideas. Secondly, the hearer, from a defective knowledge of existing relations, and of the present state of things, may be in doubt whether an Idea, from which in other respects he does not dissent, is practicable. Lastly, the hearer may form a different opinion with respect to the actual reality of a matter to which the orator would apply one of the higher Ideas, or, to speak gene- rally, may not be convinced of its real historical existence. Hence arises the necessity for the orator, first, to instruct the hearer in the true ifature and quality of things ; secondly, to make clear to him the practicability of the proposed under- taking ; thirdly, to show him that the matter in question has been actually realized, or to convince him of its historical certainty. Hence arise, for the theory of Eloquence, three subordinate Ideas, or Categories, as I would rather call them : Truth, Possibility, Actuality. And here it is evident that OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 39 moral attributes alone do not suffice for the management of these Categories, but that Philosophic culture, and a great com- pass of solid knowledge, is requisite. If it is asked by what right, then, we bring these Categories into a theory of Eloquence grounded upon ethical principles, I would reply : Because the moral maxim, that the orator should refer his particular Idea to the universal Ideas of the hearer, can be followed out, only in case the doubts, or false views of the hearer, in relation to the categories, Truth, Possibility, and Actuality, are re- moved ; and this work, since it is under the guidance of a moral principle, must also be regarded as moral in its nature. And secondly, because the orator, in case he did not possess the scientific culture and the substantial knowledge which are requisite, would be morally obligated to attain them, since they are the necessary means, in order to the execution of a moral undertakiog* The orator, even if he acquires Philoso- phic culture and Historical knowledge, to the full extent per- mitted and required by the highest ethical principles, does not thereby become a Philosopher or Historian, but must ever be regarded as one whose sphere is action, and who seeks to ex- ert an influence externally. 40 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, CHAPTER X. THE CATEGORY, TRUTH. If we should make Truth — i. e., the exhibition of the essen- tial nature of things — the ultimate end in Eloquence, Elo- quence would thereby become entirely identical with Philo- sophy. But we regard it only as a subordinate Category, to which the higher moral Ideas lead. In this way Eloquence maintains its ethical character, and at the same time its affi- nity with Philosophy is explained. It is therefore allowable, and oftentimes necessary, for the orator to philosophize, whether the need of the Truth, as such, becomes apparent only after the conflict between the practical Ideas of the orator and the hearer has begun — in which case, Truth merely furnishes the intermediate positions by which the former are the more easily made to harmonize with the latter ; or whether the orator begins with the exhibition of the Truth — a thing that may be done if it accords with the aim and the circumstances of the orator, and if the moral impulse from which it originates and the moral design for which it is done, are plainly to be seen. Then this impulse itself and this de- sign will set the bounds within which the Rhetorical presenta- tion of Truth must be kept, and by which it is distinguished from the Philosophical, which aims at the mere developement of Ideas without reference to anything farther. The exhibition of Truth is an object of prime importance OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 41 in sacred Eloquence, and is one of the characteristics by which it is specially distinguished from secular Eloquence. In secular Eloquence, only one deed, one single resolve, is sought to be produced by the orator. This determines, and of necessity limits very narrowly, all that belongs to the mere de- velopement of a subject and the mere informing of the mind, The problem of the sacred orator, on the contrary, is — to con- duct man to eternal life through the knowledge of God and of His Son, and to mould his spirit in such a way that not merely one good deed, but a complete change of the inner man, and a whole series of good deeds, may be the result. Be- flections upon human nature and its relation to God, so far as they are referred back to Happiness, Virtue, and Duty, are therefore perfectly in place in the sacred oration. Nevertheless, the Rhetorical presentation of Truth is en- tirely-different from the Philosophical; for, in Philosophy, Truth is moulded wholly, and on all sides, in a statuesque manner, so to speak, so that as in the case of a statue, there is no particular point of view, no perspective, for it, but it pre- sents a p o the beholder wherever he stands. In Eloquence, on the contrary, Truth appears only in a pic- turesque manner, and in profile, so to speak, for the orator presents only so much of it to the hearer, as is necessary to convince him, and as the theme requires. While, therefore, Duty commands the orator to strive after scientific culture, so bids him to forget and sacrifice all the sensible, pro- found, and excellent thought he may have upon a topic, if it lispensably necessary to the attainment of his end. 4# 42 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR ; CHAPTER XL THE RHETORICAL DEMONSTRATION OF TRUTH. Two points, therefore, have been fixed with respect to Philo- sophizing in Eloquence : first, that some exhibition of politi- cal, ethical, and religious truths is necessary in Eloquence ; second, that this exhibition cannot be made with the complete- ness of Philosophy. From this it follows, further, that the strict demonstration of a proposition — i. e. f its derivation from the one highest principle of all knowledge — is not allowable in an oration ; since by a method of this sort, the practical aim of the oration would either be destroyed entirely, or at best would only faintly glimmer through. Here, therefore, arises the difficult question : How is Truth to be established in Elo- quence, if it is not allowable to demonstrate it Philosophi- cally ? In answer, it is to be noted in the first place, that there are many truths which do not need such a demonstration, and to which the orator can gain the assent of all hearers by a plain explication, by a happy illustration, by a fitting application of it to a circumstance in plain view. If this is not possible, then doubt respecting any particular Truth, since it cannot be removed by means of a demonstra- tion, must be removed by means of Authority ; that is, the Authority of the hearer himself or the Authority of another. And this latter, again, is either human or divine. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 43 The orator cites the Authority of the hearer himself, when he shows him that, in rejecting a certain Truth, he stands in contradiction to himself, and to convictions to which he has given expression upon other occasions. This species of argument, which, from its brevity and convincing power, has such a great advantage over philosophical demonstrations, is to be strongly recommended to the orator, and in order to be able to apply it with success, he must have the views and opinions of the general mass constantly in view, and as much as possible must enter into them. Herein, I believe, partly consists the Popularity so highly praised, and always required, in the orator. I am not afraid that the orator, in thus con- stantly referring to the in ate convict'ons of his hearers, will find that which is false and degrading. It would indeed be degrading to proceed from an Idea which the orator him- self regards as absurd, for the sake of pleasing the hearer ; but why are the opinions diffused among the mass of men to be regarded as false and absurd, as a matter of course ? On the contrary, is it not an essential characterist c of human nature that the Truth can never utterly die out of i , but that a por- tion of it is ever preserved pure and genuine ? And why should not the orator present what he has to say, in this form, rather than in a systematic argument ? Since, moreover, the freedom of the hearer must be respected, it will be respected far more if I mould him, so to speak, from within outward, and by means of the developement which I impart to his own Ideas, than if I lace him up in a system foreign to him. And I shall have less reason for attempting this last, because, by joining on upon his own inward conviction, I can with less dif- 44 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, ticulty gain him over to a salutary truth ; and because, on the contrary, the finest philosophical explication would perhaps only weary him and render him indifferent to his own true well-being and the practical aim of my oration. Hence, if an orator in the expression of his Ideas, seeks to please himself simply, and for this reason forgets his hearers and the end which he has or should have in view, I affirm that this is not only contrary to good sense, since he can never in this way attain his end, but it is also contrary to morality — it is repre- hensible self-seeking. And the evidence that it is contrary to morality, is found in the very fact, that it defeats his under- taking. For the orator, with all his powers, is now in the Ethical domain, and consequently, that which aids these powers must be morally good, and that which thwarts them must be morally bad. The distinctive character therefore, of oratorical discourse, is Popularity, using the term in its high- est sense ; and the orator is to join on upon the Truth as it exists among the mass of the people, and to esteem the gen- eral form in which he finds it here, more highly than that particular form which he has given to it in his Philosophical system. If, however, there should be no one anions: the Ideas of the hearer which the orator can employ as the basis of his argu- mentation, then, since a scientific investigation is entirely for- bidden him, he must betake himself to human or divine Au- thority. And, indeed, nothing is more frequent than the em- ployment of the former of these in speeches upon legal cases and affairs of state. If the orator thinks that the enlivenment of the Ethical Ideas of the judge is not sufficient in order to OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 45 obtain from him the desired decision, he cites the Authority of the law : and if an opinion which is being maintained is not in accordance with the conceptions of a political assemblage, it must then be shown that, in a similar case, a statesman of ac- knowledged wisdom thought or spoke in the very same way. To sacred Eloquence, in particular, Authority, and indeed a divine Authority, is so necessary, that this species of Elo- quence would not have arisen, and, even now, cannot exist, without it. The highest of all truths — those pertaining to the relation of God to man — are here presented to view, in order to serve as a guide to man in his striving after Happi- ness, and as motives to sanctiiication. Even granting, what, however, is not to be granted, that these truths can be reached by Philosophic Deduction alone, yet this method is not to be followed by the orator ; for, although knowledge, indeed, might be imparted in this way, yet all the practical benefits of knowledge would be lost, or, at best, would be but scantily reaped. Furthermore, neither the Authority of the hearer, nor that of any man whatever, is a sufficient foundation upon which to base truths of such importance, and which lie en- tirely beyond the ordinary field of view. They need, there- fore, a divine Authority, when they are employed in public discourse, to promote the sanctification and blessedness of men. It was for this reason that, among the Ancients, who were des- titute of a positive Revelation, not even a purely moral Elo- quence could be developed along with political Eloquence, notwithstanding the high degree of excellence which charac- terises their ethical systems, and that a religio-moral Elo- quence did not appear until Christianity appeared. This 46 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, species of Eloquence rises and sets according as Faith in a divine Revelation grows stronger or weaker ; and, from the very nature of the case, in proportion as the sacred orator loses the conviction of the divine Authority of the Bible, his Eloquence, also, must Jose in Power and Dignity. Let one imagine to himself a pulpit orator endowed with the finest ta- lents, but who places his own individual reason not beneath, but above Revelation, and who, consequently, in determining the relations which God sustains to man, and which men should sustain to each other, can appeal to no higher divine Authori- ty. If the predominant bent of his mind is Philosophic, he will make it his principal business to exhibit, to explain, and, as far as possible, to demonstrate, the principles of his reli- gious and ethical systems. Now, passing over the objection to such an undertaking, that it is ordinarily not suited to the average degree of culture in a promiscuous assembly, I ask what, at most, can be the result, even supposing that the hearer rightly apprehends all the views of the speaker ? Scientific culture, indeed ; but the improvement of the heart and life of the hearer, and not scientific culture, was the de- sign of the orator, and he must miss of this, since his whole time has been taken up in the endeavor to establish certain truths, and none is left, to connect them with the higher prac- tical Ideas of the hearer. Ke will, perhaps, attempt to do this in the conclusion ; but if the whole of the oration, up to the conclusion, has not been planned with the design to awaken moral interest, the orator will in vain labor after this in the application of his discourse. Furthermore, it seems to me that one can never have so OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 47 firm and unshaken confidence in the religious and practical views which he derives from a human system, be it his own or another's, as in those truths which, having acknowledged a revelation, he receives on its Authority. Hence, there will always be in the minds of pulpit orators who are skeptical respecting a Revelation, a certain embarrassment, scarcely per- ceived by themselves, which will betray itself in their pre- sentation of Truth, now by a cold, indifferent tone, now by unnatural effort and distorted zeal ; and thus the truths pre- sented by them, however excellent they may be, will never acquire the influence over the feelings and the will which a calmer, more powerful emphasis would have imparted. But what carries this embarrassment to the highest pitch, and must, in the utmost degree, weaken the Rhetorical power of a pulpit orator in the exhibition of truth, is the obscure feeling which will certainly press upon him, that, considering the relation which he sustains to his hearer, there is some- thing contrary to uprightness in such a way of thought ; and this not merely because he is acting contrary to the designs of the State and the Church, who have appointed him to pro- claim, not his own individual and human opinions, but divine truth — although this seems to me to be a very well-grounded scruple — but principally because his office invests him with a dignity and respect which must appear as unwarrantable as- sumption in the case of every one who does not found his teaching on divine Authority. It is true, indeed, that when a man appears before other men, in order to prosecute the guilty, or defend the innocent, or to propose measures for the Common Weal, he needs no impulse from above, and no divine 48 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, Authority, in order to do this. But it is difficult to under- stand how a man, with no basis but his own strength alone, and not regarding himself as the ambassador of a higher be- ing, can dare to point out to his fellow-men, this, as the road to salvation, and that, as the road to perdition, and now, to urge them on by the prospect of the punishment and retribu- tions of a future world, and now, to hold them back. He can acquire the right to do this only through a wisdom and vir- tue higher than human ; and who will venture to ascribe these perfections to himself? The higher the degree in which he does really possess them, the greater, it seems to me, must be his dread of being made vain, even in his feelings, by ap- pearing in public. Moreover, he sees among his hearers persons who are his equals in moral and scientific culture, or, it may be, his superiors. Feeling as though, in this case, it would be unbecoming to seize with a strong grasp upon their minds, he seeks to say to his little public only what is pa- thetic, agreeable and entertaining ; and if he describes a vice, he gives them to understand that he does not suspect any one of his hearers^ but has in his eye certain other per- sons who are out of their circle. Emotion is everything for him, and the awakening of Feeling that comes to nothing ; he seeks to be brilliant by means of external attractions and an ornamental style ; # and thus his discourses are deprived of power and usefulness by his skepticism. Let one, on the contrary, imagine to himself a sacred ora- tor of less talent, but who, to a sincere will to do good, joins * Un clerc mondain ou irreiigieux, s'il monte en chaire, est declama- teur. — hn Bruy&re. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 49 an unshaken belief in the truths of the Christian religion ; and let him see what a higher elevation and sweep his dis- courses will receive from this single circumstance. While he derives the sublimest truths from the Holy Scriptures, where they are given to him in the clearest, most popular form, he is, at the same time, through the divine Authority of the Bi- ble, raised above all prolix developements and arguments, and without troubling himself about them, can apply his whole power to directly impressing the minds of his hearers. The truths exhibited by him will be the more readily believed, since he himself speaks only because he believes, and since his firm inward conviction gives an equally calm and moving emphasis to his tone, before which all doubt must disappear. With all the humility produced by a sense of the weakness of the human reason, as well as of his own moral deficiencies, he yet feels that, without assumption, he may address instruction, rebuke and exhortation to his equals, nay, to those better and wiser than himself, since he speaks to them, not in his own, but in God's name ; and since as an ambassador of the Highest, he is raised above every one, be he who he may. Since, therefore, the design of the sacred orator to lead to Vir- tue and Happiness through the knowledge of the truth, is to be attained only through his belief in Eevelation ; since with- out this, the relation which he sustains to his hearers has not even a moral validity, it is plain that belief in Eevelation in his case, must not only be regarded as a religious characteris- tic, but as a moral excellence also, and should be strictly re- quired in him. It is in this connection the more mournful to notice, that so many, from a groundless fear of giving displea- 5 50 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, sure by recognizing a divine Authority, either conceal their belief in it altogether, or else give only timid utterance to it, and thereby deprive their discourses of power, dignity, use- fulness, and consequently in the end, of the approbation of the public also. To him who is animated by the lofty desire of rivalling the political Eloquence of the Greeks, and of speaking from the pulpit with Demosthenean power, I would say " Science, Learning, Style, Delivery, these all render easier the practice of Eloquence, but do not make the orator. Demosthenes be- came an orator through the greatness and solidity of his character, and these qualities are indispensable to you too, in order to the attainment of your aim ; but they are not all you need. Though the greatest perfection attainable here, were yours, yet you are not free from human weakness, and who gives you the right to proclaim salvation or damnation to your brethren, who are not worse than yourself? This diffi- culty you will feel ; you will not venture to speak to them with power; you will be compelled to content yourself with exci- ting their emotions, or enriching their stores of information with new views ; you will perhaps, for a time, be listened to with applause by a mixed assembly ; but the abiding, eternal renown — the salutary, ever-onward-rolling influence of your efforts, is gone. You are weak and fearful so long as you would rest upon yourself ; dare to regard yourself as the or- gan of a higher Being, and you are all power and all courage. Faith plants you firm and sure ; your teaching is no longer that of the Pharisees — unmeaning sound, and useless hair- splitting ; you teach with power, like Jesus himself — for he OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 51 spake the words of His Father, and you speak His. Appro- priate each and every one of His words, as well as those which His spirit gave to His Apostles ; but take them in the very sense in which they spake them. You do not believe it now, but your own experience will soon teach you, that in the doctrines of our religion lies hidden all the power of sacred Eloquence." Would that many might understand me, and through Eloquence be led to Christianity ! A great honor for Eloquence, and a glorious gain for Christianity ! For were it not as well and fitting to attain to Christian faith through Elo- quence, as by the ordinary way of adversity and suffering ? 52 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE \ OR. CHAPTER XII. THE CATEGORIES, POSSIBILITY AND ACTUALITY. As the higher Rhetorical Ideas lead the orator to the Category Truth — i. e. 9 to the exhibition of the nature of things, — they also frequently demand the proof of the possibility and actual existence of a thing. And hence, in addition to Truth, Possi- bility and Actuality come into view as subordinate Rhetorical Ideas, or Categories. The Idea of Possibility is employed in a special manner in the oration before deliberative bodies. In this case, however apparent the benefits are that accrue from the execution of the proposed undertaking, yet the courage of the hearer often falls on reflecting how difficult the undertaking is, and his in- dolence intrenches itself, so to speak, behind the objection that it is impossible. This objection must be removed, and the orator must show clearly the practicability of his proposi- tion. As the hindrances which seem to stand in his way disappear, one after another, the Ethical Idea in the hearer acquires Vitality and Force, and begins to impel him to ac- tion. Demosthenes would have employed all ethical motives in vain, in order to incite the Athenians to resist Philip, if he had not also, at the same time, made clear to them the practi- cability of his proposition, and the Possibility of success. We see what an amount of solid knowledge is requisite in the orator, how he must have thoroughly examined all the rela- OUTLINES OP A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 53 tions of the State, and have calculated all its resources, in or- der to acquit himself well in respect to this point. It does not belong to my plan to mention all the cases which the Idea of Possibility includes ; and I content myself with remarking — in accordance with my main design — that this Idea, however weighty and important it may be, is yet subordinate to the Ethical Idea of State-weal. For only through this is the orator led to the consideration of the Possibility of a thing ; and he can have no finer impelling motive to attain all the knowledge requisite for this, than that love of country by which he is inspired. Moreover, this Idea is found in sacred Eloquence also. Those acquainted with the human heart know how often we endeavor to quiet our conscience, when it brings to our notice our neglected duties, by the excuse that it was impossible for us to perform them. Hence, it is not enough for the orator to recommend a particular action as belonging to an ethically perfect course of conduct ; he must so understand mankind generally, and the condition of society around him, as to be able to enter into an examination of all their relations, and to show that that which he advocates, is, in the highest degree, adapted to their relations. In this way, the high religious Ideas are taken out of their abstract and universal forms, and put into the concrete and definite forms of human life ; and nothing imparts a more active life to the Ideas of the hearer, than this full unfolding of them, and nothing seizes more powerfully upon his mind. But a strong will is needed on the part of the orator, in-order to compel the very same spirit which has soared up to the highest objects of thought, to de- 5* 54 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ', OR, scend suddenly to the minutest detail of human life, without thereby losing its fire and elasticity. Few are able to do this, and hence, since it is easier, the orator often deems it more befitting to roam about among abstract and formless Ideas. The category of Actuality is of peculiar importance in the judicial oration ; for although the sentence of the law, respect- ing a particular act — that of murder, e. g. — is not a matter of doubt in the least, yet the act itself sometimes is, and its Actuality can be affirmed or denied. Here the wide field of narrative-proof and statement opens to the orator ; a part of Rhetoric upon which the issue of a cause depends, and which the Ancients consequently cultivated with great care. Yet, however important it may be, the ethical Idea of Civil Law presides over it ; without this Idea, the question respecting the Actuality of a thing, would not arise in Eloquence, and it must ever be kept in view as the last goal to which the narra- tive-statement tends. Hence no objection against the ethical principle laid down by us as the foundation of Eloquence, can be brought from the fact that the Historical element predominates in this species of oration ; for the oration, before the court, still remains a moral procedure, in accord- ance with the Idea of positive Law, although this latter leads directly to the notion and exhibition of the Actuality of a thing. This subordinate Idea is also found in sacred as well as in political Eloquence. In this department, it exists in very close connection with the category Truth, the latter category very commonly leading to the former. For it is a peculiarity of Christianity that it establishes the Truth, not by means of OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 55 Demonstration, but by means of Facts — as, e. g\, the Love of God, by the sacrifice of His Son ; immortality, by the Resur- rection of Christ. If these Facts are doubted, they must be shown to be actual by means of a historical examination of witnesses. Such investigations are of the greatest interest, because the Truth established thereby stands in such close connection with the highest practical Ideas — with Duty, Happiness, and Virtue. Furthermore, to this category belong those passages, whether in political or sacred oratory, in which the quality of a person, or a thing, is described, in or- der to apply to it one of the higher Ideas. o 56 ELOQ.UENCE A VIRTUE J OR CHAPTER XIII. THE PLAN AND DIVISION OF AN ORATION. By laying down the Rhetorical Ideas and Categories, we have, as it were, measured off the domain of Eloquence, and found the materiel on which it labors. By contemplating, there- fore, these Ideas in their first movement, we also become ac- quainted with the Form, in its first and most general features, which the Rhetorical materiel assumes. This is the doctrine of the Plan and Division of an oration, respecting which, or- dinarily very good and correct, but, for the most part, merely logical, rules are given, which, consequently, relate only to the Form ; teaching, it is true, how to distinguish the Good from the Bad in the Form, but not pointing out the way to find the former, and avoid the latter. We wish here to unite both, and to investigate this materiel, not only in a formal, but also in a real manner. We must needs succeed, since we conceive of Eloquence as a procedure according to Ideas, in which Ideas the Matter as well as the Form of that which is to be produced, is contained ; since, consequently, we never separate the Form from the Matter, and are, therefore, enabled to determine on this theory, not only how the division is to be made, but also what is to be divided. Let us, therefore, imagine to ourselves a man who possesses the ability to bring out ethical Ideas into his consciousness in great Power and Vitality, and who is animated with the de- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 57 sire to represent these Ideas in the Actual, or rather to mould the Actual into conformity with these Ideas. Such an one can employ, for this purpose, no other means than the Ideas themselves, and their expression in language ; and he knows that his undertaking will succeed only in case he is not sub- servient to the passions of his hearer, but rather subjects him- self to the Ideas of the hearer — to that which is Highest and Best in him. He, therefore, brings his hearer before his mind, at first with merely the main features of his ethical nature, and with those requisitions which every man imposes upon himself — viz., to fulfil his Duty, to form himself to Virtue, to lay a foundation for Happiness. When he addresses members of the State or Church, he conceives these Ideas in the parti- cular form given to them by each of these relations. Every citizen, the political orator pre-supposes, desires to have Law and Justice administered, the Common Weal promoted, and to acquire personal Merit ; every Christian, the sacred orator pre-supposes, desires to fulfil the Law of God, to raise himself to Likeness with Him, and to become capable of Eternal Blessedness. That these Ideas are leading Ideas in each and every hearer, the orator pre-supposes ; but even if he is mis- taken—even if no one of them, in any one of the above specified forms, exists in the hearers — a thing which we affirm to be impossible — still this confident pre -supposition would be the best means by which to generate them ; for in proportion as men are assumed to be better than they are, and are so treated, do they become better than they are. When the orator has thus brought the hearer before him, he will find it better adapted to his purpose, either to refer the & 5S ELOaUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, particular Idea of his oration to one only, of the above-men- tioned Ideas, be it one of the higher or subordinate, or else to connect it with several of them. The orations constructed in the former way, I would denominate simple ; those in the latter, complex. In the simple oration, Happiness, or Virtue, or Duty, is the predominating Idea, or else Truth, or Possibil- ity, or Actuality, shaped and moulded by one of these former. In the complex oration, Truth, e. g., takes the lead, and Virtue and Happiness follow ; or whatever may be the order found best adapted to the particular Idea of the oration, and to the relations peculiar to it. And now the orator makes a perfectly simple and natural beginning, by specifying his general design, and designating the Ideas or Categories, whether one or more, to which he in- tends to refer. This, and nothing more than this, is the Ex- ordium. Its distinguishing characteristics are clearness and plainness. The orator announces the contest to the hearer, and tells him at what point he intends to attack him ; and the hearer can well engage in it, because the fight is with honor- able weapons, and the advantage is always on the side of the vanquished. Since, among the Ancients, the subject upon which the ora- tor wished to speak was usually known to the hearers, the Exordium — so far as it contained an announcement of the subject — must naturally be very brief; and it became more extended only when the orator wished to present himself in a more advantageous light in the existing circumstances, or to remove certain prejudices respecting himself personally, which might hinder his success. This advantage, arising from the OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 59 hearers being acquainted with the subject, and from a set oc- casion, is afforded to the sacred orator by the Festival days in the Christian Church, and also, to some extent, at least, by the Scrip- ture text. For this, provided it is rightly selected, already contains the particular Idea of the orator, which needs only a slight explanation, in order to spring forth from it into plain view. Moreover, the text is often interwoven with the circum- stances and relations to which it was applied at the time of its first utterance, and the orator needs only to realize them to himself, in order to discover the same or similar relations in the present time, upon which it shall exert its influence. Since, therefore, the Text specifies not only the Idea, but also the envi- ronment in which it is to unfold itself, this important advantage enables the sacred orator to abridge his exordium, especially as he does not need, like the political orator, to fill it out with assurances that his purposes are pure. For, in the first place, the whole drift and connection of his sermon, and still more of his life, is the best evidence of this ; and, in the second place, since he ever appears as the ambassador of a higher Being, and never in his own name, it is not befitting in him to be anxiously careful about himself. That which so often lengthens out the Exordium is the undue employment of the subordinate Categories — the exhibition of the True or the Ac- tual, e. g. — the orator, with the design of interesting, address- ing himself to man's mere desire for knowledge, without re- gard to the demands of his moral nature, I cannot favor this method, and believe that it may be followed only in rare instances. For, in the first place, time is in this way spent in merely paving the way for the Idea, which might be better 60 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OK, employed in the developement of the Idea itself. In the se- cond place, the preliminary representations by which the ora- tor would prepare the way for the theme, are often as remote from the minds of the hearers as the theme itself, so that he might just as well employ this as to introduce the former. Finally, in the third place, since the mere desire for know- ledge is, or should be, subordinate to the moral Interest, the orator can hardly fail to interest the hearer in his main Idea, if he connects it immediately with one of the higher moral Ideas — a thing that can be done without a long circumlocu- tion. At the end of the Introduction, the orator may announce the two or three parts which contain the developement pro- per ; for why should he not carefully employ this, as well as every other opportunity, to aid the hearer's attention, and to facilitate his comprehension of the whole ? If the hearer is compelled to stretch his power of attention too much, he either slackens it altogether, or else the effect of the oration is exerted on the cognitive powers alone, and not on the Will, which, for the orator's purposes, is tantamount to no effect at all. If we do not find this practice observed in the orations of the Ancients, or any announcement of the Plan and Division, this may proceed from two reasons. First, the method to which they were obliged to accommodate themselves, was prescribed to them by the occasion on which they spoke, far more than is the case with the sacred orator, and since this method, especially in the instance of the orator before a court, was almost always one and the same, it seemed unnecessary OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 61 to announce it formally. Secondly, — and this appears to me to be the chief reason — such a formal statement of the Plan would have been evidence of study and previous preparation, the appearance of which they avoided as carefully as they sought to maintain that of Extemporizing. For they had to deal with a suspicious Public, who would have attributed such previous preparation only to the design to deceive. But the case is different with the sacred orator, who may allow the diligence which he has bestowed with an honest intention, to continually appear in his oration, since he can excite thereby in the hearer nothing but the expectation of a mass of information all the more fundamental for this. If, however, the sacred orator would, for any reason, omit the formal men- tion of the grounds of his oration, of the plan which he has sketched for himself, he is free to do so ; for though, indeed, it is absolutely necessary that he endeavor to arrange his thoughts in the clearest and best manner, it is not absolutely necessary that he specify beforehand how he has arranged them. But what is the principle upon which the Division of an oration should proceed ? Beginning with the simple oration, this contains as many heads as there are principal positions, by which the leading design of the orator is connected with une of the higher, or one of the subordinate Ideas, as the case may be. In the sermon of Bernhardt — e, g., entitled, " The worthy celebration of the Sacrament is a source of the noblest enjoy- ment," — the leading design of the orator is referred solely to the Idea of Happiness, and is connected with it by the fol lowing positions ; The worthy celebration of the Holy Sacra- 6 62 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, ment affords us a view of our Redeemer in the most affecting greatness of his character ; it wakens us to the consciousness of the highest of vocations ; it fills us with the feeling of the highest of fellowships ; it makes us alive to the most blessed of all hopes. If Duty is the single predominant Idea, the oration divides into as many heads as there are principal positions employed by the orator, to make it apparent that the state of mind, or course of conduct, recommended by him, is a Duty. If Vir- tue is the predominant Idea, the oration may be divided ac- cording to the different motives existing for the practice of a particular Virtue, or according to the different characteristic marks by which the particular Virtue is made to melt in, and become one with the universal Idea of Virtue. But the simple oration may also be constructed according to one of the subordinate Ideas — Truth, Possibility, Actuality — provided only its connection witfy the higher Ideas is, from the very beginning, clearly and definitely established. To illus- trate : the false notions which Christians form of Divine Pro- vidence, or of the efficacy of Prayer, stand in the way of their religious and moral developement ; from this point of view, in- struction respecting Providence and the efficacy of Prayer, according to the Idea or Category of Truth, may be the only object of the oration. Yet, such instruction should not de- generate into a complete treatise on these subjects, but the orator should bring forward, in his refutation or indoctrina- tion, that only which is specially important in practical respects. In a political oration, the whole may be referred to the Idea of Possibility, in order to show that the proposition in ques- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 63 tion, which confessedly promotes the Common- Weal is also practicable. The same may be done in sacred oratory, in order to weaken the force of excuses for committing a fault, derived from the impossibility of avoiding it, and for neglecting a virtue, from the impossibility of practising it. It is evident, moreover, that in this case the orator should combat those objections only, which the hearer actually makes, or, at least, may easily make. The positive reasons, on the other hand, for the practice of the Virtue then divide oft into main masses by themselves which form the Parts of the oration. In like manner, also, the Idea of Actuality, referred to one of the higher Ideas, may be the predominant Idea in an or- ation, as is most commonly the case before a court of justice. Here, the different proofs that a thing has or has not happened, fall into several classes, and these are the Parts of the oration. The old Rhetoricians, however, give us information on this, w r ith a minuteness of detail which leaves nothing to be desired. In the sacred oration, also, Actuality may be the sole predo- minant Idea — first, when the orator wishes to prove a disput- ed fact belonging to sacred history ; and, secondly, when he would sketch a picture of an important personage or fact, that shall be fruitful in practical application. In the first instance, he will maintain such a particular fact, not against skepticism in general, but against the doubts of his contemporaries only ; he will not therefore take into view the objections of former times, but those only that are peculiar to their time ; he will make a selection accordingly, from the mass of proofs which are at his command, and these are easily divided, according to their intrinsic character, into certain classes and divisions. In 64 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, the second instance, the orator brings into notice those qualities and characteristics of a person or a thing which are most con- gruous with the practical Idea which guides the whole oration. Thus, Actuality is the single predominant Idea in the sermon of Reinhard upon " The characteristics of the Church of Christ as seen in its origin ;" and he describes this origin as pure in its sources, miraculous in its circumstances, noble in its aim, beneficent in its consequences. A peculiarity, not so much in the manner of the division it- self, as in the way of announcing it, is found in the French orators, especially in Massillon. When, namely, it is their principal business to combat the erroneous notions of their hearers — and any one of the above-mentioned predominant Ideas may lead to this, although the three higher less often than the three subordinate ; in such cases, I say, they are wont to announce, not those correct views which they wish to un- fold, but the erroneous ones which they wish to combat. It is apparent that it amounts to the same thing in the end ; for the employment of this mode presupposes that the orator has di- vided th3 errors and their contrary truths into equal and cor- relative masses, and hence it makes no difference which of the two he announces specifically. There is always, however, some- thing hazardous in this mode of proceeding, since it is easier to bring truths of which the speaker is himself thoroughly convinced, into a sure and certain connection, than the errors and doubts current among the multitude ; and if the orator has not so arranged these as that the threads of a full developement of the truth can be wound upon them, he will not combat them with success. The want of connection, and the breaks, so OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC, 65 frequently to be noticed in Massillon's sermons, are perhaps to be attributed to this manner of arranging the parts of an oration, which became an almost uniform habit with him ; hence only the practised and skilful orator — and he only rare- ly — should make use of this manner. It is alwa) 7 s safest for the orator to present in the very outset his own conviction, having some reference however to prevalent errors, and to combat these only when they come up of themselves in the develope- ment of his own thoughts. But the complex oration, in which several Ideas arc placed beside each other in equal importance, is of more frequent occurrence than the simple oration^ of the division of which we have been speaking. It is apparent, at the first glance, that this species of oration conducts, with much more force and certainty, to the end in view, than the other. For, if the orator brings his leading Idea into connection with those of the hearer, only on one side, it is very possible for him to fail in the attempt to show its identity with them. In order to win over the hearer completely, the orator must lead him con- tinually to one and the same goal from several points ; the orator's Idea, if I may be allowed the expression, must con- tinue to wind around the Idea of the hearer until it has be- come completely incorporated with it. It is evident, now, that the complex oration has as many parts as there are predominant Ideas in it ; and each one of these parts, again, may be regarded as a simple oration, and be divided according to the same rules, so that that which forms a main division in the simple oration, becomes a subdivision in 6* 66 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, the complex. A common method, here, is to begin with the Category of Truth or Actuality, in order to throw due light over the subject of which the orator would treat, and then, in order to waken a higher interest, to follow up with the Idea of Virtue, Happiness, or Duty. This is the almost too uni- form mode of division, when the orator speaks, first, of the nature, and, secondly, of the effects. But unless the Catego- ries Truth and Actuality are handled by a very skilful master, discourse based upon them often becomes somewhat cold and tedious, and the hearer remains indifferent towards a subject of which the orator indeed gives right conceptions, but the relation of which to the higher demands of his moral nature, he does not make plain to him. Or else the orator, conscious him- self of this coldness and dryness, allows himself to be led into the error of interweaving into this part of his oration those higher means of moving his hearers which should not be em- ployed until later ; and in this way he oversteps the limits which he has prescribed for himself, and anticipates the con- tents of the divisions which are to follow, which he is now unable to fill out. Instead, therefore, of placing Truth and Actuality in an equal rank with the higher ethical Ideas, it may often be more suitable to subordinate them to these ; to make Happiness, Duty, or Virtue principal parts, and to in- sert the representation of Truth and Actuality only when the need of it becomes plainly apparent in the course of the de- velopement of those higher Ideas. But, again, there are some subjects in which the Idea of Truth or Actuality has such a decided preponderance, that the orator must make it predomi- nant throughout his oration, and must interweave what he haa OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 67 to say respecting Happiness, Virtue, and Duty, in the indi- vidual developements of the True or the Actual. In this way, the six Rhetorical Ideas are associated with each other in an order and interchange the most manifold. The counter-action which the orator expects from the hearer, determines him to begin, now with this and now with that Idea, and to follow up with the others, thus or so ; and hence no universal rule can be laid down regarding a Plan of this sort, since existing circumstances and relations have so great influence upon it : the Plan is, in fact, a resolution which the moral powers form, and which is shaped by the peculiar occasions and inducements which lead to it. The course and movement of Ideas in a great orator can an- imate to a similarly pregnant and powerful movement in no other way than as the example of the hero animates to Virtue . Demosthenes, e. g\, in the first oration against Philip, begins with the Idea of Possibility ; he shows how a more fortunate issue may be expected in the case of further expeditions ; and as he proceeds, the doubts of his hearers vanish, their breasts swell, and fill with heart and hope. But the orator does not stop with considerations of a general nature ; he goes into de- tail, and lays before the people a circumstantial plan of all that is to be done. In this way he satisfies the understandings of his hearers, elevates their minds, and renders them open to the higher Ideas of State-weal, of Civic Merit, by which they are now carried captive at the will of the orator. But there is no course and movement of Ideas of such irresistible power as the one in the oration for Ctesiphon, in which, in accordance with the Idea of Possibility, it is first shown that the speaker could 63 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR not by any possibility have foreseen the issue of the battle at Chseronea, and then the Idea of Virtue follows with a startling rapidity — the orator affirming that, even if he had foreseen all, he should nevertheless have given no different counsel. The well-known division of Cicero's oration for Milo, according to the Ideas of Actuality and Legality, has some resemblance to the wonderful method of this oration of Demosthenes. In the oration of Demosthenes upon the affairs of the Cher- sonesus, the Idea of Public Advantage is not connected, but entangled with that of Civil Law, in a highly singular man- ner. For, while according to the former he shows that the ar- my which Diopeithes commanded in # that country, should not be disbanded, he, at the same time, according to the latter, ex- culpates their general with respect to the acts of violence with which he was charged : a procedure to which he was proba- bly compelled by the circumstances of the case, and which he carries through with extraordinary self-confidence, but which I would recommend no one to imitate, since, of Ideas thus en- tangled, the one commonly would be prejudicial to the other. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 69 CHAPTER XIV. FIRST FEATURES TOWARDS A SKETCH OF THE ORATOR. It has been remarked, respecting the Science of Morals, that there are three points from which it may be contemplat- ed, and that a complete Philosophic presentation of it is rendered possible only by connecting these different views. Morals, in the first place, may be regarded as the enumera- tion of all those commandments derived from the one highest law, by which the will ought to be directed, and of the du- ties imposed by them. Secondly, the question may arise with respect to that character in the Subject, or agent, which is inclined and able to fulfil all these duties ; and developed in this direction, the Science of Morals becomes a presenta- tion of Ideal Virtue, or of Ideal Virtues. In the third place, again, the Product may be contemplated, which perfect Virtue produces by the fulfilment of all its duties, and this becomes the chief object in view, under the names of Prosperity, Hap- piness, the Highest Good. But, instead of connecting in one, these three different views, writers upon Morals commonly make but one of them prominent in their theories, which, con- sequently, must be one-sided and unsatisfactory. For does not the sum-total of all the different and scattered Virtues pre-suppose an acting Subject, in which they can concentrate and come into actual practice ; and when this Subject is seen 70 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, acting, what is more natural than the inquiry after the Pro- duct of its activity ? We make these well-known statements, in the first place, in order, by placing the three different forms of .the system of Morals beside the three highest Ehetorical Ideas mentioned by us, to justify our having assumed these latter as funda- mental Ideas ; and in the second place, still more, for the rea- son that these fundamental Ideas furnish rules for the treat- ment of Rhetoric as a system. If Rhstoric, as we affirm, is only a more general unfolding of Morals, the selection of one particular point of view, alone, would be a fault in Rhetoric, as well as in Morals, and the combination of all the points of view becomes as necessary in the former as it is in the latter. We have thus far developed the part of Morals which is called Rhetoric, from the Idea of Duty, as a point of view. For we began with laying down a law, of which we have pointed out the application, and from which we have derived several indi- vidual rules ; and we have believed it necessary to take this method, for the sake of greater intelligibleness. Cicero and Quintilian — to compare those Philosophers who have devel- oped Morals from the Idea of Virtue, as a point of departure — it seems to us, have in view particularly the representation of the Perfect Orator, whom Quintilian describes even from the time of his first instruction in school. But their representa- tions are somewhat ambiguous, since, although in this way of treating the subject, we are, indeed, made sufficiently ac- quainted with the character and qualities of the orator, we can yet form no definite conception of his activity, because the rule by which it is to be judged of, remains unknown. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 71 If now, as we have said above, we have sought to avoid this fault by laying down firm fundamental principles, we must also guard against falling into the opposite error of forgetting the character and qualities of the orator. The re- presentation of these is the more important, since it might seem as if the mere knowledge and skilful application of the rules laid down by us were sufficient for the orator, and as if his moral character and qualities were to receive no farther notice ; which, if it were actually the case, would frustrate our endeavor to construct Rhetoric as a part of Morals. But such is not the case, and furthermore, it is im- possible to follow all these rules, unless there be moral strength of Character, unless there be Virtue, and, in the case of the sacred orator, unless there be the inner life of Faith. For the distinctive agency of the orator consists in giving a powerful impulse and direction to the minds of others, and he is not equal to this unless the goal to which he would direct them is plainly in his eye, and unless he earnestly desires to reach it himself. In a word, he must possess, so to speak, the Faculty of Moral Ideas, and these belong to Character. The Imagina- tion, it is true, generates those Ideas from which the creations in the sphere of Art proceed ; although, even in the case of Art, as it seems to me, the products are always somewhat lacking in body and firmness, unless they are set up by Char- acter. But, inasmuch, as the Will is the object which Elo- quence seeks to influence, Eloquence must originate in the Will, in the moral state of the orator. Take the sacred orator for instance : where will he find matter for his discourses, if his own sanctification, if the moral and religious condition of men, 72 ELOO.UENCE A VIRTUE \ OR. does not lie near his heart — if he does not earnestly desire to improve human character ? In him alone who is animated by these motives — who labors upon himself, and contemplates men around him with the design of elevating them to a high- er degree of perfection — only in such an one will Ideas that may be referred and applied easily to the highest aim and end of the human Will, be generated in their constant an4 abounding fulness ; and such Ideas are, beyond question, motive-powers, moral and Christian in their nature. Nay, they presuppose a higher grade of morality — one that is raised far above that which is commonly called Virtue, the mere abstaining namely from Vice, and an irreproachable life. For if it is morally beautiful to will, at all times, that which is Best and Worthiest, for its own sake, it is still more beauti- ful by far, to desire at the same time, in connection with this, that which is Best and Worthiest for all mankind. This de- sire may be wanting in a man, and he not be morally bad in his life ; but a far higher degree of moral perfection must be ascribed to him of whom it is the sole and actuating princi- ple. Hence it is certainly no envious complaint, when a sa- cred oration is charged with being wanting in such moral Ideas as alone can beget a disposition of soul that is constant- ly employed in promoting the well-being of humanity. To give expression to one ? s self merely, to depict certain favorite views with self-complacency, cannot be represented as a vice exactly ; but it is certainly proof of an imperfect nature, which is not able to forget itself, and to live only in the well- being of others ; it indicates a want of that higher Character by which the orator produces the stuff and material employed OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 73 by him, and which, since the creative power in man is desig- nated generally by the term Genius, we would style Moral Ge- nius. In vain, therefore, is the command, " Refer your Ideas to the highest human Ideas," addressed to him who, absorbed in his own emotions, fancies and notions, does not feel the he- roic impulse to seize upon the hearts of men, and to mould them into a nobler state ; for he is lacking in the first and most ne- cessary things — in Ideas, — and instead of these, he will play with figures, dissolve in soft emotion, or bring forward informa- tion, which is quite entertaining, it may be, but which produces no effect upon the Will. That which is true of the sacred orator, is true also of the civil orator. If he does not cling with disinterested love to his father-land, and is not impelled by this love to study close* ly the internal relations of his country, and to mark attentive- ly the changes in its foreign relations, how is he, in important and difficult emergencies, to acquire correct views and to form salutary plans, without delay ? He will be dumb, as was the case with the Athenian orators on hearing that Philip had ta- ken Elatsea. " For," as Demosthenes said, " that day and that occasion demanded a man who had traced events from the be- ginning, and had formed a correct conclusion for what reason and for what end Philip had done that." And how had De- mosthenes, the only one who spoke on this day, obtained this keener insight, except through his love of country, in which res- pect he was in advance of all his fellow-citizens ? It may in- deed be said, that in the absence of love of country, self-interest, hatred and friendship, preconceived opinions, political systems, 7 74 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ) OR, will not leave the orator destitute of Ideas and Plans. Perhaps not ; but here the great difficulty presents itself, that these ve- ry designs are to be subjected to the highest ends of the State, and not of the individual Will, and this must be uncommonly difficult to accomplish, if they did not spring up in dependence upon and subjection to, the Common Weal, but were suggested by other and less noble motives. In order that his selfish Plans may succeed, the orator, as has been remarked, must bring them into connection with the highest moral Ideas ; and if this con- nection is not a natural, but a forced one, talent of the first or- der will often fail in the endeavor to carry through the decep- tion,*' and the web of its argument will be torn into shreds by another orator, who perhaps speaks with less power, but whose Ideas have grown up out of the ground and soil of Patriotism. A fine instance of this is afforded in the two orations, which, according to Sallust, were delivered by Caesar and Catointhe Roman Senate, respecting the punishment of the fellow-con- spirators of Cataline. What can be finer than the arrangement of Caesar's oration ; how cunningly does he understand how to render the Ideas of magnanimity, positive law, and public ad- vantage, available in a case in which it was his sole aim to sup- port the mere instruments of his own ambitious plans ! With less art, but with greater power, the honest Cato forces his way through, and the whole Senate sides with him. And thus, finally, by our own examination and by the example of * A wrong design is betrayed by the contradictions in the course and connection of thought. 'E7T£t<5ttv tis, oHfiai, KCLKOvpy&v &rc fif) 7rpo$fiKOVTa Trpdyfiara tov$ \6yovs pera-
iyia..—PhcbdruSi p. 331, ed. Heindorf. t Qua (miseratione) nos ita dolentet- usi sumus, ut puerum infantem in manibus perorarues tenuerimus; ut alia in causa, excitato reo nobili, sublato etiam filioparvo, plangoreet lamentatione complerimus forum. Orator, c. 38. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 81 of Eloquence. But the Eloquence of Demosthenes, like his character, possesses an elevation, which, of necessity, must fail of being apprehended ; and owing to their inability to rightly estimate the Rhetorical means which he employs, the Ancients, and we after them, have believed to have detected the very same artifices in him, which are plainly apparent in other orators. • In order to prepare the way for this part of Rhetoric, it is necessary to enter upon a psychological investigation, and to establish a distinction between two things, which, though very different from each other, are yet commonly confounded with each other — namely, between Affection and Passion. The movements in our minds differ very much in their nature, their duration, and their importance, according as they are produced by external objects, or are generated from within outwards. An external object, or the representation of it, ex- cites, if we desire or loathe it, a movement within us which is rightly called Passion, since we are passive in the matter, and yield ourselves up to an influence which operates upon us from without. This condition of the soul cannot, in strict- ness, be justified, since it supposes the inactivity of the Rea- son, a power which, indeed, cannot always prevent the recep- tion of impressions from without, but which should, neverthe- less, limit, elevate, and, if they are injurious, suppress them. Moreover, this inward condition is, in its nature, unquiet, perplexed, and painful to the mind, which is always troubled by the feeling of dependence upon external objects, and in its duration it is transient, since it is produced by a transitory object. Entirely different from this, is that excitement of the 82 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, mind which owes its origin to an Idea ; I call it Affection, (Affekt,) and not Passion, since the spirit in this case affects itself through its own activity, instead of passively receiving an impression from without, as in the other case. Yet this term Affection, which renders me liable to misapprehension, and is not, by any means, adequate, I employ only because I know of no better one. What, however, I mean by it, will bo clear from what follows. A mind in which an Idea has be- come living consciousness, cannot possibly retain that cold- ness which accompanies mere abstract representations or con- ceptions ; for since the Idea contains within itself the notion of an activity of some sort, and the impulse to it, it must ne- cessarily appropriate to itself all the powers of the soul, and set them in motion in one definite direction ; and from this united working of all the faculties — from the exertion accom- panying it, an inward state must arise, distinguished by a higher degree of warmth and life. In case a creation in the domain of Art results from the Idea, this inward state is de- nominated Poetic or Artistic inspiration, and is universally recognized and esteemed as Good and Beautiful in its nature. But the same warmth and glow attends upon all ethical Ideas which strive to break forth into activity; nothing but the mere refraining from Evil can have coldness of soul as its at- tendant ; he who strives to produce something Great and Good, will never be # without ardor, without affection. Yet we should never apply the name Passion to this fine mental manifestation ; this term indicates the inactivity of the higher spiritual powers, while, on the contrary, Affection, as distin- guished from Passion, supposes the highest activity of the OTTTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 83 Reason, which is the parent of Ideas. Furthermore, the warmth of Feeling and of Passion is obscure and vague — to use a comparison, is like a dimly burning fire ; Affection, on the contrary, constantly conscious, constantly attentive to the slightest hint of Reason, capable of checking itself in the midst of the most rapid course, is to be compared to the sun-light, which brings even more clearness than warmth with it. For this reason, and also because Affection does not, like Passion, di- vide the mind into two contending parties, but unites all the powers of the soul, and all the emotions of the heart, in finest harmony with the Reason, it is the happiest state by far to which man can raise himself. That it is also a perfectly moral state, it seems unnecessary to add. It is, especially when generated by ethical Ideas, man's moral nature itself, and that, too, in its finest splendor, its highest dignity, and elevated far above that coldness of soul which is sometimes denominated rational, although with great injustice, since a powerful activity of the Reason must necessarily banish all coldness. Finally, Affection is distinguished from Passion, by the fact that the former is as permanent as the latter is transient. For since the Idea which generates it can never be exhausted by a single exhibition, but only by a continued series of exhibitions, and, therefore, has a long-continued ex- istence — nay, if it is a moral Idea, an eternal existence, for the contemplating mind, it imparts this attribute and duration to the menial affection which accompanies it. Instead, however, of duly distinguishing between two men- tal manifestations so diverse as those above described, it is too common to denominate everything as Passionate, that is at- S4 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, tended with any degree of fire and life ; and it often happens that that which is Beautiful and Excellent in the highest de- gree, is degraded by the debasing conception which is con- nected with this word. We should, therefore, never ascribe to one who is given up to an Art, or a Science, as soon as he is capable of producing something within its sphere, by his own independent power, a Passion for this Art or Science ; his love is an Affection which is generated by Ideas ; and he, alone, has a Passion for an Art who merely desires to con- template its creations for the sake of the pleasure they pro- duce, without being excited to any activity of spirit by them. In the social relations of men also, not all Love is Passion. Love is Passion only when it strives after the possession of the loved object, as after the possession of a piece of property which it wishes to obtain and hold ; it is something far high- er, it is Affection, so soon as the Idea of a perpetual connec- tion comes to lie at the bottom of it ; an Idea which is neither disturbed by separating circumstances, nor grows cold from the earthly possession of the object. Speaking generally, the action of man should never be Passionate, but always Affec- tionate ; it should never betray the fire which an external ob- ject has kindled, but should be constantly animated by that mild and clear warmth which accompanies all that springs from the inward depths of the spirit. And thus let us, in Eloquence also, distinguish the discourse of a man who is filled with an Idea, which he would impart to others in an equal degree of clearness and warmth, from the effort, ever to be condemned, to awaken their Passions. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 83 CHAPTER II. THE DUTY OF THE ORATOR TO SPEAK WITH AFFECTION AND TO AWAKEN AFFECTION. Having, in the foregoing, shown that true Affection as distin- guished from Passion, is never morally wrong, but is always to be regarded as intrinsically Beautiful and Excellent, we now go still farther, and affirm, that it is absolutely necessary that the orator speak with Affection. For he goes before an as- sembly only in order to impart to it the Idea by which he is himself pervaded ; and this Idea, if it actually be an Idea, must be accompanied with Affection. If we find the orator wanting in this, we are justified in assuming that he is not animated by an Idea ; that he seems to purpose and undertake something, but in reality has no definite purpose, and, there- fore, is in contradiction with himself ; that he pursues his business from necessity merely, like a day-laborer, or from by-ends like a demagogue, or from cold and chilling van- ity, like a mere fine speaker ; and any one of these as- sumptions, if just and warranted, will prevent the hearer from respecting the man, or opening his heart to him. What we have said, moreover, respecting the difference between Af- fection and Passion, will, it is hoped, protect us from the charge of demanding in the orator, feverish heat, sickly emotion, or strained animation; we demand warmth with thoughtfulness, feeling with reason, emphasis without dis- tortion, light and fire without vapor ; fine qualities, which 8 86 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, even the common hearer knows how to estimate, and readi- ly distinguishes from the Extravagant and Artificial. Every one who has ever come before the people, filled with a great Idea, has spoken with Affection ; but with the great- est Affection by far, He who gave utterance to the greatest Ideas ; namely, Christ. This Light of the World reveals eternal Truth with an abiding Inspiration, which is at one time mild and gentle, at another, with thunder and crash ; a great example for every sacred orator, and one that warrants him in dispensing with all, so called, philosophical calmness, and obligates him to speak with similar Affection. Supposing, now, that there are means whereby Affection can be imparted to others, it is plain that the use of these means can never be injurious, but always and only beneficial. For they never rouse up mere blind feeling to a life and en- ergy that renders Reason inactive ; on the contrary, mere blind feeling is held in subordination, since the orator compels it to co-operate towards his ends, and, in this way, there arises inward harmony, which is man's most perfect condition. The fear, also, that the orator may go too far in exciting Affection, seems to me to be entirely unfounded, for Affection is gen- erated by a stronger activity of the Reason, in which there can be no excess, and the calm Thought must at every mo- ment lead back within its proper limits the discursive Feeling. Passion most certainly may become too strong, or rather, it should never become so, but how the Ideas of the moral Reason can be accompanied with too lively Affection, or how it is possible for these same Ideas, sanctified by Religion, to seize upon the mind with too great power, I, at least, cannot OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 87 imagine. The orator, therfore, if he is able to excite Affection, need prescribe no limits to himself while making the attempt ; owing to human weakness, instead of going too far, he will or- dinarily have to blame himself for having done too little. And if it is objected that Affection, like every lively frame of the soul, is transitory, I ask whether it isTor this reason merely, to be deemed worthless, and whether every single hour which is spent in the feeling of enthusiasm for the Highest and Best is not a positive gain and a beautiful reward for the soul that is the subject of it ? But this objection is without foundation ; for Affection owes its existence to the heightened activity of Reason alone ; and Reason, by means of the fuller developement it has received in the process, is always of itself independently able to reproduce Affection. Invariably excluding everything Passionate, and assuming that Affection can be imparted to the hearer, we can now, without any opposition whatever, we hope, lay down the as- sertion, that it is the duty of the orator to awaken Affection. In case, either from principle or from inability, he disclaims this obligation, his activity must be limited to that of which we have treated in the First Book ; namely, to proving that the particular Idea of his oration is contained in the general Idea of the hearer, and that the hearer, if he wills Duty, or Virtue, or Happiness, must also will this or that procedure to which these Ideas lead. But what is accomplished by this ? As good as nothing. This might indeed do, if in man, Know- ing, Willing, and Doing, were one and the same act. In this case, he would only need to know that he ought to will, in or- der to will, and would only need to will, in order to do. But S8 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, such is not the case. There is a cold abstract Knowing which generates no Willing ; there is a feeble Willing which never passes over into Doing. But to what does this cold Know- ing and this feeble Willing lead, and how can the orator be satisfied with producing it ? For the very reason, that some- thing is to be accomplished which is not yet accomplished ; for the very reason, that he finds the State and the Church in a corrupt, or at least an imperfect condition, and would have it changed for the better ; for this, and no other reason, does he come forward as an orator ; this is the end towards which he must labor, if he would not be in contradiction with him- self; and if he does not attain it, he has spoken in vain. But in order to attain it, it is necessary, that the Idea of the hear- er be raised to such a grade of vitality as that it can immedi- ately pass over into act ; for that blazing up of all the inward powers which we denominate Affection, indicates the moment when the Idea is breaking through and coming forth into Actuality. If the capacity of being conscious of Ethical Ideas must be predicated of every man, and yet very few act in ac- cordance with Ideas, this is only because Affection is wanting in them, the very link itself, which, in the chain of human ac- tivity, connects Willing with Doing. The sentiment which the orator labors to produce in his hearers, and the resolution which he seeks to have them take, are to be brought about immediately, not only when he speaks before the judge or be- fore his fellow-citizens, but also when he speaks before a Chris- tian assembly. For if it is not brought about immediately, when will it be? At another time? But why defer that which is in itself good ? Or would the orator merely enlight- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 89 en and cultivate the Reason, under the conviction that well- regulated action will then be developed of itself, from it ? But experience proves the contrary ; it shows us men of very- cultivated Reason, who either do not act at all, or act wrongly. And, moreover, how is this gradual cultivation possible in the case of the orator, to whom, at this one particular moment, a mind is surrendering itself, which perhaps will never again fall within the sphere of his influence ? Is nothing at all to be done for such an one, and how long is the orator to wait for something to be developed of itself, from the audience be- fore him ? Their ethical Ideas they bring with them ; they are therefore, at this moment, just as susceptible to every good influence, as they will be years hence ; for it is the individual who changes — the mass, on the whole, is ever the same. The objection in question proceeds from the false supposition, that it is necessary for the orator to laboriously impart to men that intelligence which lies at the bottom of action ; but he is spared this labor, since every man by nature possesses the ethical Ideas. Perhaps there is sometimes in the orator, as in the hearer, an aversion towards the exhibition of Affection, which conceals itself behind these objections, but which, after what has been said, can hardly pass as praiseworthy. If now it be asked, in what does the business of the orator properly consist — in conviction or persuasion — I con- fess that I can declare decidedly neither for the one nor for the other, and that it seems to me the question ought not to be asked, since it is based upon a false Eloquence. So far as conviction is concerned, this is by no neans suffi- cient to constitute the substance of Eloquence, if by ii ier- 8* 90 "eloquence a virtue ; or, stood the proof that the particular Idea of the orator is con- tained in the general Idea of the hearer. But this is hardly the meaning given to the word ; it is generally taken to de- note a demonstration, by means of which the whole Philoso- phic connection of the thoughts of the orator is impressed upon the hearer, in order that he may be excited to one par- ticular act. Conviction of this sort seems to me to be an im- possibility, and I believe that the best Dialectician has not yet succeeded in entirely bringing over his opponent to his own standing point. But even if it were a possibility, I should deem it useless for the orator to start from the highest principles of all knowledge and action, when he might di- rectly, and with entire certainty of success, fasten on upon the ethical Ideas. It were also sad, in the highest degree, to be compelled to go through with a course in Philosophy with a man in order to move him to the performance of a good ac- tion. But this part of the subject, as I believe, has been suf- ficiently explained in the First Book. I can as little approve of persuasion, if by it is understood the distortion or darken- ing of representations, in order to excite the Passions ; no able orator will betake himself to this means, and we have shown that he has no need to do so. If, however, conviction may be taken to denote the production of the Idea in consci- ousness, and persuasion its elevation and transformation into Affection — which, however, as I believe, the common use of language does not permit — I would answer the question above by saying, that the business of the orator consists neither in conviction nor persuasion alone ; but that his conviction should be persuasive, and his persuasion convincing. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 91 CHAPTER III. # THE DIFFERENT KINDS OF AFFECTION. Before we proceed to treat of the means of exciting the Af- fections, we must first become acquainted with the different kinds of Affections. Affection is not always one and the same ; for, in the first place, the Ideas upon which it attends, although all of them of an ethical nature, may be very diffe- rent from each other. In the second place, the character and qualities, as well of the Subject in whom the Idea is generated as of the Object to which it is referred, vary. For example, the Idea of Duty may be generated in a guilty or in an innocent mind — may be applied to a guilty or an innocent man ; and in relations so dissimilar, the Affection arising from the en- livenment of this Idea must assume different hues. Finally, in the third place, several Affections, in themselves different, may flow together, and, by their union, form a third. The knowledge of these different kinds of Affections seems to us to be necessary, since, without it, it will be impossible to deter- mine whether the means of exciting the Affections which we shall present, are sufficient or not. This knowledge will also enable us the better to distinguish the Affections from the Passions — a distinction upon which I lay the greatest stress, since only through its observance can Eloquence be restored again to its proper rank. Indeed, it does not escape me, that I am here entering upon the dangerous ground of Psychology, 92 ELOaUENCE A VIRTUE J OR so called, from which perhaps the fragments of so many un- successful undertakings in this department of Khetoric ought to deter me ; yet the safe clue with which I venture into this domain, will perhaps preserve me from a similar failure. It is true, that nothing can be done in Psychology, if that obser- vation of self and of others, from which it draws its truths, is pursued at hap-hazard, and without leading principles. But here we have something firm, universal, and sure, in the ethical Ideas, which we bring down into the lower region (so to speak) of the mind, only in order to observe what will result from their contact with the natural feelings and the dif- ferent inward states of men. In this, or in a similar way, it may perhaps not be impossible to distinguish and to de- signate satisfactorily all the different movements in the mind which so interpenetrate and run through each other, and which no so-called empirical Psychology has as yet syste- matized. Yet, what we shall be able to do here, can be re- garded as only a slight contribution towards such an under- taking. Without regard now to the Idea of Duty, it is apparent that the inward state of a man who is warmed and enlivened by it, and who strives with all his powers to realize it in con- duct, must be remarked as a peculiar Affection. It is deno- minated Zeal, and it is naturally the strongest in him who regards the law which he obeys from love, as a truly divine law ; it is weaker in degree, yet not essentially different, in the mind of him who receives the law by which he regulates his conduct, from the State solely, or who believes that he im- poses it upon himself. If, however, man does not strive after OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 93 the realization of an Idea, but after the possession of an out- ward good, his Zeal, which at first was an Affection, dege- nerates into Passion. If the Idea of Duty has been sup- pressed for a long time in a man's mind, and again acquires dominion within it, it begets, with reference to his past faulty state, Shame and Repentance, the liveliness of which, like that of Zeal, is in proportion to the seriousness of the sphere in which the Duty is conceived to be obligatory, and which, like the Affection of Zeal, would cease to be pure Affections, if the individual, instead of charging himself with the posi- tive neglect of duty, should charge upon himself merely the neglect to make use of a favorable opportunity to promote some earthly advantage. The perception, in the case of another, of the difference between what he actually does and what he ought to do, excites in different degrees the Affection of Anger, which, in order to remain a pure Affection, must never go farther than to the bad action itself, and which be- comes a Passion so soon as it is directed against the person of the agent. The Idea of Virtue, whether its perfection in God, in Christ, or the approximation to its perfection in a good man, be considered, through the Affection accompanying it, be- comes Love, Friendship, Esteem, Benevolence, Emulation, Admiration. These are pure expressions, from which the common use of language has already banished every notion of passionateness, with the exception only, that by Love is not always meant an Affection, generated by the Idea of Virtue, for an object in which this Idea is perfectly, or in part real- ized, but often, also, a passionate desire for that which stimu- 94 ELOaUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, lates unnaturally. Love, as an Affection, has the Godhead for its highest object, with which it strives to unite and become one, and can pass over to a human being only in case the human being manifests something divine. Accordingly, it is more perfect in its nature than Friendship, since it reveringly recognizes the whole Individuality of the loved object, while Friendship, on the contrary, is generated by esteem for only certain particular, mainly moral, qualities. Yet, as Love strives after an abiding union with its object, so there is also in Friendship the desire for community of feeling and action ; if this fails, Esteem remains, which is denominated Benevo- lence, when it is accompanied with the impulse to manifest it- self in procuring some earthly advantage for the object of its regard. Emulation is inseparable from Love and Friend- ship, and, in general, arises in a mind that is pervaded by the Idea of Virtue, on seeing its Ideal of Excellence more perfect- ly realized in another being than itself. Admiration is the loving recognition of another's Excellence, when it is unattaina- ble by us, or, at least, when it seems so far removed from our own Ideal, that we cannot strive after it, without renouncing our own Ideal, and ourselves, as it were. Thus the Hero admires the Poet, and the Poet the Hero, while each follows after a restricted Ideal, and one that is and must be foreign to the other. But no one admires either the invisible Godhead, or the Godhead as revealed in Christ, for the very reason that its perfection is without limits or restrictions, and, conse- quently, may be taken as an Ideal by every man. The Idea of Virtue produces the Affection of Contempt and JDisesteem towards those who seem to be destitute of the Idea of Virtue ; OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 95 though Disesteem more properly has reference to the absence of civic merit, or desert in relation to the State. Contempt is a very harsh, and, therefore, an imperfect Affection ; he alone feels it who stands upon a low point of view, and who believes himself to be the creator of the virtue he possesses. He who is convinced that he has received it from God, without any merit of his own, will be more inclined to Pity than Contempt, in relation to the sinner. Finally, in the third place, the following Affections are as- sociated with the Idea of Happiness : — Longing after the highest Good, Hope to obtain it, Gratitude towards him who has rendered aid in obtaining it, Pity for the erring who does not strive after it at all, or in a false way, Fear of all that might deprive us of it, and Abhorrence of evil within ourselves, as the worst enemy of our true happiness. Yet, in order to preserve these affections pure, the Idea of Happiness must be conceived in its greatest purity ; and it is for the very reason that this is seldom done, that the Affections at this point border so closely upon the Passions. He who stands upon the position of the mere moralist, and seeks his happiness in an unhindered activity, will detect in himself a displeasure, not altogether pure and unselfish, towards all who oppose him in any way. But these Affections most easily degenerate into Passions, when the Idea of Happiness is ap- plied to political relations, and the individual animated by it is striving after the welfare of the State. So long as Enthu- siasm only, is felt in relation to those who promote the wel- fare of the State, and Displeasure only, in relation to those who disturb it, these are beautiful Affections, and worthy of 96 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, esteem ; but, instead of Enthusiasm, there very easily arises blind Adoration, and instead of Displeasure, raging Hatred ; and these political Passions, which pre-suppose a great obscu- ration of the rational Idea of Happiness, are the more frightful, because it is easy for every man to justify to himself, and to others, his own selfish efforts, under the appearance of a patri- otic disposition. In like manner, Enmity against him who has done us some injury, is never an Affection, but always a Passion. The same is true of Envy, in which the Begrudg- ing another of his Happiness is connected with Hatred to- wards him for having it. Even Pity has something of Passion in it, if we deplore the case of an unhappy person, not for his own sake, but from a lurking, unconscious intimation, that possibly we may soon find ourselves in his condition. It is a true Affection only when, as has been said before, it springs from the pure Idea of Happiness dwelling in us, and in some degree realized in our own case, but which we miss in the striving of another, or when our feeling for the miserable is elevated and ennobled by the additional influence of the Ideas of Justice and of Virtue, as is the case on seeing an in- nocent man stricken with disease, or a man who, considering his high qualities, merited a better fate. As the sight of an innocent man, stricken with disease, calls forth an elevated Pity that is full of Affection, so the sight of prosperous Vice begets Moral Indignation,* which, like Compassion, is a mixed Affection, and springs from the connection of the Idea of Justice with the Idea of Happiness. Aristotle, who, in the beginning of his Rhetoric, condemns * Nemesis, OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 97 the excitement of the Passions, but who afterwards, unable to carry out his theory independently, adapts himself to the ne- cessities of the case, treats of the subject-matter of this chap- ter with evident interest, and with the precision in the speci- fication of particulars peculiar to him. He assumes eleven Passions : — Anger, Placability, Love, Hatred, Fear, Sha?ne, Benevolence, Moral Indignation, Pity, Envy, Emulation. It is easy to see how, in this enumeration, things the most di- verse are brought together — e. g., the mean vice of Envy* with the noble striving of Emulation, and, consequently, how necessary it is to distinguish between Affection and Passion. Let it also be noticed that this list of Aristotle is not more copious than our own, and, consequently, that we have not been compelled, in order to systematically arrange the actual phenomena of consciousness, to mutilate them in the least* APPENDIX. WIT. If we, of right, require in the orator the ability to awaken Affection, we should also, perhaps, require that he have Wit. Wit is the destruction of Affection ; it is the bent of a mind, which, instead of being carried away by the Holy and the Great, makes it an object of its scrutiny, and entertains itself with the apparent contradictions and contrasts which are con- tained in it. The play of such a mind is much more sure 9 98 ELOaUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, and safe when it is directed against a Passion, which continu- ally presents a great number of weak points, and which is always checked and abated whenever Wit gets the upper hand. It might, therefore, seem as if the weapon of Wit were necessary to the orator, not indeed for attack, but for defence against a Passion or an Affection awakened by his opponent, that is working against him. This is the only one, among the many shallow reasons mentioned by Cicero, for the employment of Wit in Eloquence, that is not utterly to be rejected.^ And, indeed, it cannot be denied that a well-applied sally of wit is of great effect when the orator needs merely to free himself from some entanglement, to help himself quickly out of a momentary embarrassment, and by a brief word to get rid of a matter, especially if it does not pertain to the higher relations of human existence, and is of no special importance to any one. Yet, when the orator has in view the excitement of a great and powerfully moving Affection, Wit, however skilfully applied, can produce only an injurious effect. It may indeed deprive the reasoning of an opponent of its force, and extinguish the fire which he has kindled ; but the hearer is thereby put into an indifferent mental state that is destitute of Affection, and one in which he is more inclined to reflection than to action. But the orator should never let it come to this, for while in this way he destroys the Affection or Passion which his opponent has called forth, he at the same time destroys that which has been produced by himself, and must, after an interruption so disturbing in its effects, be- * Q,uod frangit adversarium, quod impedit, quod elevat, quod deterret, quod refutat.— De Oratore, II. 58. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 99 gin his whole work over again. The intermingling of Wit in an oration, is therefore unworthy of a true orator, and it seems to me the orator is upon true and high ground only when, without utterly annihilating the particular Affection which has been called forth in opposition, he throws it back with re- doubled force upon his opponent. In this way, without any cold and indifferent state intervening, Affection follows upon Affection, and that awakened last is strengthened by the con- trast with the preceding. It will not be more difficult, it will rather be more easy for him who speaks with the conscious- ness of the goodness of his cause, and can apply the whole power of the moral Ideas to his own purposes, to suddenly re- verse a false feeling in the mind of the hearer, which is un- favorable to himself, than first to kill all feeling in him, and then re-animate him for his own purposes. In order to clearly perceive how foreign Wit is from Elo- quence, let one consider the nature of sacred Eloquence, and ask himself, What would be the effect of a witty sally — against an oppose r of religion, for example — in the midst of a serious discourse ? Would it not, of necessity, so destroy the whole impression of the discourse as that it would be impossible to think even, of renewing it again ? Of similar effect, also, is Wit in political Eloquence, although less hazardous, because the contrast with the main character of the discourse is not so sharp and striking. Upbuilding, to speak generally, is the proper function of the orator ; he can therefore have to do with destroying, only in passing and briefly. The tendency to Wit and the capability of employing it, were very slight, in the serious mind of Demosthenes, in which 100 ELOaUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, great affections were constantly dominant, while they were prominent qualities in Cicero. The latter took great pleasure in practising this talent, which flattered his vanity, while in the orations of Demosthenes no traces of it are to be met with, although he was often the subject of the witty sallies of his contemporaries. Quintilian, who in general is more prejudiced in favor of his countryman than he should be, in reference to this quality places him above Demosthenes ; a totally false judgment, since he praises him on account of a quality which rather merits condemnation. Cicero is very entertaining perhaps, to the modern reader, in those passages in which he covers his opponent with wit and ridicule, but let one only observe how Demosthenes refutes his adversary with earnest vehemence, with what masterly ability he converts defence into an attack, and hurls back as an accusation the annihilated charge of his opponent, and then ask himself which method is most conformed to the end of the orator, most elevated and noble, most virtuous ? OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 101 CHAPTER IV. THE MEANS OF EXCITING AFFECTION ; OR ; THE RHETORICAL PRESENTATION OF THOUGHT. The way for the investigation of the important inquiry, by what means Affection can be excited, seems to have been sufficiently prepared, by what has been said in proof of the moral dignity and worth of this mental state, and of the duty of the orator to call it into existence. We do not treat of the excitement of the Passions, because it is a subject which can find a place only in a Rhetoric constructed according to en- tirely false, or, at least, imperfect principles. Aristotle, upon this subject, imparts an amount of instruction which, in com- pleteness and fulness of rich and fine remark, can hardly be surpassed. Yet it all amounts simply to this, that each Pas- sion has its particular object by which it can be excited, if it be depicted in lively colors, and placed vividly before the view. A little imagination and so-called knowledge of hu- man nature, accompanied with a versatile character, or an evil will, is often sufficient in order to succeed in this. It is not even necessary that the orator himself feel the Passion which he would enkindle ; nay, this might rather be a hindrance to him, since it would destroy his coolness and self-possession. We acknowledge, moreover, that in many circumstances, and having to do with certain characters, it may be much easier to allow a Passion to blaze forth, than to produce an Affection ; 9* 102 • ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, nay, that the former, in comparison with the latter, is mere child's-play. But besides that such a procedure is not moral in its nature, it is also a highly uncertain and deceptive means in order to attain a Rhetorical end, as we have already shown ; so that Good Sense, which goes hand-in-hand with Duty, limits the activity of the orator to the production of Ideas, and their enlivenment into Affections. While now a Passion may be made to blaze forth, by one who is destitute of Passion himself, he alone, on the other hand, is able to awaken an Affection, who is himself enliven- ed and pervaded by it. For the aim, in this case, is not to ren- der the mind of the hearer susceptible to the stimulus of an external object, in order to which, it is not indispensably necessary that the orator himself be strongly affected by it ; but to transfer something that has been generated in the depths of the soul, into another person, which can be done only in proportion as the orator himself possesses that which is to be produced. Furthermore, it has been shown, that in the mind of the orator the Affection is most intimately con- nected with the Idea, and that it arises only as an effect of the Idea, and in proportion to the degree in which the Idea is un- folded and developed. In like manner, it can never be pro- duced in the mind of the hearer by means which lie without the Idea, but only by means of the Idea itself, and its pre- sentation. Only when the orator succeeds in imparting the Idea which is living, and creative in his own mind, to the hearer, in an equal degree of force and clearness, will the Idea break forth into activity in both speaker and hearer with equal power, i. e., be accompanied with the same Affec- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 103 tion in each. If, therefore, we can discover a particular and peculiar manner of presentation, by which an ethical Idea may be gradually carried up to its highest completeness in the mind of another, we shall have discovered the true means of awakening Affection. I say a particular and peculiar manner of presentation, for at this point especially, it must be evident, that it can be neither a Philosophical nor a Poeti- cal manner. For although Philosophy exhibits Ideas in them- selves, and Poetry, an Idea in a sensuous dress, yet neither strives to excite an Affection from which a sudden revolution, either in the inward state of a man, or in the outward condition of human society, may proceed ; and even if anything similar to this results from the Philosophical or Poetical manner of presenting Ideas, yet the design to attain it, forms no part of this manner of presentation, and exerts no influence upon it, when it is pure and perfect in its character and execution. But the Rhetorical manner of presenting Ideas has the ex- citement of Affection, for its peculiar aim and end ; and I affirm that this is the only point of view from which we can proceed, if we would consecutively and systematically derive its rules and laws. After having treated, in the First Book, of the Plan and Division, we shall therefore now endeavor to penetrate more deeply into the secret of Rhetorical Compo- sition. The success of our attempt to refer the Theory of Elo- quence to ethical principles, would be very doubtful, if we should now find ourselves compelled to leave the path which we have hitherto trodden, and to deduce the laws of the Rhetorical presentation of thought, which have for their aim 104 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR the awakening of Affection, from some other domain than that of Ethics ; perhaps from a newly-invented Theory of the Beautiful and Sublime, which we had connected as a little addendum with the main system, or perhaps from the Theory of the Emotions, and some shrewd empirical rules for exerting an influence upon the human mind. But we find ourselves in no such desperate position, but take up our investigation again, precisely at the point where we dropped it in order to explain some subjects which presented themselves, by the aid of the principles which had been established, and proceed in the deduction of the laws, according to which a free being may exert influence upon other free beings. The first was : the orator must subordinate his particular Idea to the univer- sal and necessary Ideas of hearers ; and upon this was based all that we have thus far developed. It is now incumbent upon us to lay down the remaining laws which are to be ob- served in this case, and to show how they, and they only, are the best, sole means of attaining the end which the orator must of necessity prescribe to himself, viz. the production of Affection. He, therefore, who, as a free being, would work upon other free beings, and has already brought his particular Idea into harmony with their innate and necessary Ideas, must, in the first place, closely adapt his method of treating the subject to existing circumstances and relations. He must, in the second place, with all this reference to the position in which he finds himself, with all the resistance or avoidance of the obstacles which he meets in his path, at the same time be shut up and continue, in one constant, unceasing, progressive process. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 105 But since, in the third place, through this advancing move- ment, the entire relation of the orator is every moment chang- ing, and assuming another form and shape, every element of his activity must likewise be distinguished by a particular form and shape ; and as his method, as a whole, was adapted to the relations which he found already existing, so each of the steps in it must be in harmony with these changes brought about by himself. These three laws — the first of which we denominate the Law of Adaptation, the second the Law of Constant Pro- gress, the third the Law of Vivacity — we shall now examine, and endeavor to apply to Eloquence, as the means of excit- ing Aifection P 106 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE '> OR r CHAPTER V. THE LAW OF ADAPTATION. It is not merely a maxim of good sense, it is an ethical law, that our influence upon others should be adapted to the cir- cumstances under which it is attempted to be exercised. These circumstances are no other than our relations to otir fellow- men, which again are determined by their particular Individu- ality, and by all that is connected with this. But every man demands that his Individuality be respected, and although he acknowledges that it can and must undergo modifications, he nevertheless demands that these consist not in the suppression, but in the cultivation and elevation of what is already existing within him. Since this is a demand which every man makes, and since it is a moral law, that we so harmonize our claims with those of others, that they can co-exist with each other, this same law imposes upon us the obligation to respect their Individuality — L e., in our method of procedure to adapt our- selves to existing relations and circumstances. For in endea- voring to realize an Idea, we assert and maintain our own In- dividuality ; but in order that this may not be done at the ex- pense, or by the suppression, of the Individuality of others, the preponderance which we are endeavoring to acquire must be made easy and compensated for, by the closest possible insin- uation of our own Individuality into that of our hearers. Hence arose the first duty to fuse our Ideas with theirs ; hence OUTLINES OP A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 107 arises, now, the second duty of recognizing their Individuality while asserting our own, and of employing the greatest care- fulness while penetrating into anything that can possibly be regarded as belonging to it. But since, according to what we have before affirmed, the highest virtue is also the highest good sense, the employment of this moral adaptation, while we are endeavoring to exert an influence upon others, will be the surest means, and the necessary condition, of securing a successful result. It is this by which the practical man, in the higher and better sense of the word, is distinguished ; and if his method is uniformly characterised by this quality, and for this reason is never fruitless, we should, while ascribing good sense to him, at the same time not overlook the moral ground and source of this quality. There are men who at first sight inspire confidence, because they assert a distinctive and superior Individuality with dignity, and set it forth with modesty, while at the same time they concede ii§ full rights to the Individuality of every other man. Hardly have they com- menced the management of a difficult case, when all obstacles and opposition vanish, because every hearer, on seeing them proceed, is soon convinced that their influence upon him can result only in his own benefit. These are the men who con- trol and give direction to social life, and to such examples must we look if we would obtain a true and lively notion of the distinctive peculiarity of the orator. On the contrary, there are persons who are ever ready and desirous to exert a good influence upon others, but who, because they always bring for- ward their propositions at the wrong time, and are not able to adapt them to the individual peculiarities of those with whom 10S ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, they have to do, invariably fail in their plans and enterprises J good men, perhaps, and yet, without doubt, men who need a higher moral cultivation. They are the genuinely unrhetori- cal natures, exactly adapted to place clearly and plainly before the eye, what the orator should not be. Now the Law of Adaptation is as valid in relation to a rhe- torical, as it is in relation to a moral procedure, and imparts to it, if it is formed after it, certain qualities which are of an ethical origin, and which, at the same time, may be regarded as the best means of exciting Affection. In the first place, an oration adapted to existing relations, will be so suited to the hearer's power of comprehension, as that it will neither strain it to over-exertion, nor leave it un- employed. For the power of comprehension depends upon the learning and intellectual cultivation of the hearer, along with which it forms a part, and indeed a very essential part, of his Individuality, which is to be respected by the orator, and which he would offend against in an inexcusable manner, if he should fatigue it by too great obscurity, or too great plainness, in his discourse. And since, in order to avoid both these faults, a very accurate acquaintance with the Public whom he addresses is necessary, and one which he cannot ob- tain without a diligent study of it, he is obligated to engage in this study ; otherwise, he would incur the very same blame which he does, who undertakes a particular business, and ne- glects to acquire the knowledge necessary to its prosecution. It is indeed true, that, even among the same class of hearers, the degree of cultivation in each one is different ; yet, it is easy to strike a mean, and from this to form the image, if I OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 109 may so say, of a universal or model hearer ; and this image, if the orator keep it constantly before him, and address all he has to say to it, will keep him from the two extremes above* mentioned. If an orator is not able to form a correct judgment respect- ing the Public which he is to address, or to occupy their at- tention in a manner adapted to their power of attention, this cannot be regarded as a natural and unavoidable defect, and so be merely matter of regret, but must be considered as a moral defect; for his inadequateness ought not to have es- caped his notice, and he should have given up a profession to which he had not become equal, especially since, in the majo- rity of cases, he might have made up for what was wanting in natural talent, by persevering diligence. Nay, even if the orator possesses the greatest natural talents, it will be impos- sible for him to form a correct judgment respecting the intel- lectual state of cultivated hearers, and to adapt his conceptions to theirs, unless he possesses scientific and learned culture ; this, therefore, he should acquire ; ignorance in him is to be regarded as weakness of moral character, and as such, is to in cur moral condemnation. Here, again, we see how, in the case of the orator, the activity of all his powers is, or should be, under the guidance of a moral principle. In the acquisition of learned and scientific culture, he is to set no limits to himself; let him go as far as he may and can ; let him keep even step with his age, or let him press on before it ; only let him never forget that Learning and Science, for him as an orator, are only means, and not ends, and that he may not put the exhibition of what he has made his own 10 110 elogujence a virtue; or, in these departments, in the place of the moral Ideas which he is to set before the popular mind. This would be a vanity intrinsically contrary to morality ; it would cause him to lose sight entirely of the hearer's power of comprehension, and oftentimes to present things that would weary the attention of his audience to no purpose, or only awaken obscure images, instead of distinct conceptions ; and this is the second, and as it appears from investigation, also culpable error, which the Law of Adaptation forbids, in respect to the hearer's power of comprehension. In this adaptation of the oration to the hearer's power of comprehension, which, as we have seen, is of an ethical origin, we find the first means of exciting Affection. In order that the hearer may be induced to take part in a series of concep- tions, it is absolutely necessary that the activity which is re- quired of him be not fatiguing in its nature ; in case it were fatiguing, it would soon become irksome to him, and he would surrender himself to an inactivity that would render all further efforts of the orator fruitless. And even if the hearer should be willing to exert himself, to attentively follow a discourse which taxed his powers to the utmost by its obscurity, yet the too great stretch of the power of comprehension would exert a deadening influence upon Feeling and Imagination, and would render it impossible to excite them. But the power of attention is weakened by the too great plainness, as well as the too great obscurity, of that which is presented to it, and the gentler stirrings of Affection will ever disdain to wake at the bidding of an orator who cannot even satisfy the under- standing. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. Ill Here, I fear, I shall be met with the objection, that he who has good sense enough to see the correctness of the remarks just made, will need nothing more than this good sense itself, in order to direct himself acordingly, and to impart to his ora- tion the right relation to the hearer's powers of comprehen- sion, so that the moral qualities and character of the orator need not come into account at all. This may have actually been the case in Athens, and in Eome, with many a dema- gogue ; yet, such an example would prove nothing here ; for he who in Athens, or Rome, should have set forth something utterly unintelligible, would have been immediately driven off from the bema by the scorn and laughter of his impatient hearers. Under these circumstances, therefore, where the ne- cessity of following the rules above-mentioned was so clear and pressing, the moral character and qualities requisite in other circumstances, might, perhaps, have been dispensed with in the orator ; but from the fact, that a bad man may be com- pelled, by circumstances of a highly pressing nature, to a cer- tain method of procedure, it cannot be inferred that this method of procedure is not of an ethical nature, and that, other things being equal, the bad man can succeed in it as well as the good. For only contemplate, for a moment, the sacred orator of our own times, whose relation to his hearers is far more unhampered than that of the ancient orator, since they cannot react upon him in a manner so totally destruc* tive of success, as iu the case above-mentioned, and how diffi- cult, nay, how impossible, it often seems, even for men of the shrewdest good sense, men whom no one cr.ii deny to be ca- pable of forming a correct estimate of the capacity of their 112 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, audience, to keep themselves in their discourse upon the right level, and neither too high nor too low. Carried away by complacency in something which they have learned or origin- ated, they at one time require impossibilities of the hearer's power of comprehension ; at another, from mere habit, stick- ing to common-places, they set forth that which is perfectly well known to their audience, in a prolix and wearisome man- ner. Does not the former testify of too great vanity and self-complacency, which are certainly faults of a moral nature ; and does not the latter, as does all supine yielding to mere habit, pre-suppose a lack of strength and elasticity in the character ? Thus it is apparent that even this excellence in an oration — viz. that it is adapted to the hearer's power of comprehen- sion, although it is only a very subordinate excellence, camiot be reached without qualities in the orator that are morally good. If I have succeeded in demonstrating the truth of this assertion, I believe I have thereby done those young men no little service, who are devoting themselves to Eloquence. Science and Learning prepare them beforehand for an office in which Science and Learning can no longer be the principal ob- ject of their endeavors, but must be subordinated to the higher aim, to the attainment of which they are subservient. That this higher aim is actually a higher, it will be very difficult for them to understand, especially since the instruction at the common and higher schools, as these have hitherto been con- stituted, exhibits Learning and Science to them as the high- est of all things, to which nothing, Religion and Morality not excepted, should be preferred. In vain, therefore, are they OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 113 now urged to banish everything purely Scientific, both in Matter and Form, from their discourses ; they despise this rule, which appears to them only as timid concession, and which, it cannot be denied, is commonly represented to them as such, by their teachers ; in default of the Professor's chair, they would employ the Pulpit instead of it, and would make the bold attempt to raise the people to the heights where they themselves are soaring. If they finally come back from their error, yet the loss of heart and inspiration often causes them to sink down into superficiality and common-place. If, on the contrary, this accommodation of discourse to the hearer's power of comprehension is not a mere shrewd and skilful concession, but a perfectly moral procedure, if the opposite to it is contrary to duty, and if it is exhibited from this point of view, a young and noble mind will readily follow a rule, the observance of which it believes does not degrade, but, on the contrary, elevates and ennobles. Yet the Law of Adaptation requires not only that the ora- tion be adapted to the capacity of the hearer, but also that the orator have reference to his whole Individuality, to his posi- tion, his relations, to the occurrences which enter deeply into, and determine his fortune and fate. And this kind of adapt- ation is far more difficult to attain to, than the first. In or- der to this, it is necessary that the orator know, and have before his eye the innumerable elements which enter into the civil, moral, and religious condition of man ; namely, the circle of his ideas and experiences, the thoughts that rre common or foreign to him, the images with which his imagina- tion is commonly employed, the more or less perfect Ideal of 10* 114 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, happiness, of civil, moral, religious perfection, which floats before him, his virtues and vices, his wishes and desires, to- gether with all the more intimate modifications imparted to his Individuality by standing in society, by wealth, by political events, by the condition of the Church and State to which he belongs. This adaptation of the oration to the hearer's power of com- prehension, the best teachers of Rhetoric seem to have recog- nized as a means of exciting the Affections (in their sense in- deed, according to which they were merely Passions) ; at least, I know no other reason why Aristotle in his Rhetoric, imme- diately after presenting the theory of the Passions, follows with a description of the manners of men, according to their age, rank, and wealth,^ although he does not explain what use the orator is to make of this latter knowledge. Cicero also, would have the orator be a shrewd and subtle man, who has thoroughly scrutinized the character, and way of thought of his hearers, according to their age and standing in society ;f and he only errs in expecting of shrewdness and subtlety what may be best accomplished by morality. A crafty man may indeed succeed in detecting this or that weak side of a character, in order to attach to it the threads by which he would lead it ; but in order to so enter into, and feel, the views, the sentiments, and the position of a man, as to be able to ad- * Rhet. Lib. II. c. xii.— xvii. t Acuto homine nobis opus est, et natura usuque callido, qui sagaciter pervestiget. quid sui cives, iique homines quibus aliquid dicendo persua- dere velit, cogitent, sentiant, opinentur, expectent. Teneat oportet venas cuj usque generis, eetatis, ordinis, et eorum apud quos aliquid aget aut erit acturus, mentes sensusque degustet. — De Oral. I. 51. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 115 dress his whole Individuality in a manner to benefit and ele- vate, something more than craftiness is needed ; shrewd good sense is indeed needed, but such as is under the guidance of moral feeling, and that disinterested benevolence which readily surrenders itself up to sympathy with men, and to the contemplation of the objects in which they are interested. Furthermore, the knowledge of the hearer's capacity thus obtained, should not be used to favor his errors and to flatter his passions, but it should be employed to excite the Affec- tions in a negative way at first — z. e., to avoid all that might displease, and so injure the hearer as such, or that might render things, in themselves indifferent to him, matters of offence. Without this care beforehand, the excitement of Af- fection is not to be thought of. In vain does the orator speak with fire and emphasis ; in vain is the hearer inclined to suffer himself to be warmed and animated by the Idea which the orator imparts to him, if the orator detains or wearies him in the way to the goal in view, by a thousand minor matters irk- some in their nature. And this is no undue or sickly sensi- bility on the part of the hearer, for the claim itself, w T hich I as an orator make upon him, to entirely surrender himself in one respect to me, imposes the duty upon me to spare him as much as possible in all other respects. Hence, the orator also, if he is endowed w r ith true moral wisdom, must know how to go around all the difficulties which he cannot at the moment overcome ; this is at once Duty and Good Sense. Thus, the Apostle Paul, in order the better to reach his great aim, spared the prejudices of his cotemporaries, and became all things to all men, if by any means he might save some. 116 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE; OR, The orators of antiquity, Demosthenes perhaps alone ex- cepted, because they did not apprehend the true ground of this Adaptation in the oration, sometimes practised a species of artifice and trickery as unworthy of a high-minded man, as it was useless towards the attainment of their aim. When Cicero pretended that he could not call to mind the name of Polycletus, and it was mentioned to him aloud by one of the by-standers,^ he, without doubt, intended by this seeming ig- norance of the history of Grecian Art, to fall in with the notion of his fellow-citizens, that to employ one's self with such ob- jects as those of Art was unworthy of a Statesman. For my part, I can see in this, only an excess of Rhetorical Adapta- tion, and, consequently, something contrary to Morality. Moreover, I do not understand of what use this little piece of trickery could be to a man who knew how to set such mighty springs in motion. But it is the fate of all one-sided endea- vors, to soon degenerate into the production of mere form without substance. This was very soon the case with an- cient Eloquence, because the Ancients misapprehended the moral nature of Eloquence, and regarded it only as an instru- ment for the attainment of ambitious designs.! * Verrina, IV. 3.— Wolf ad Leptineam, p. 300. t An artifice similar to this of Cicero's, only still more shrewd and cunning, is attributed to Demosthenes, in order to explain the following passage in the oration for Ctesiphon : " For I, (thus he addresses iEschi- nes,) and all these with me, call you a hireling, first of Philip and now of Alexander! If you doubt, ask these present; but I will rather do it for you. Does it seem to you, Athenians, that iEschines is a hireling or a guest of Alexander ? Do you hear what they sayT — Von Raumer's Translation, p. 12*2. Here, say the Scholiasts, Demosthenes purposely pronounced the OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 117 If such an extreme Adaptation on the part of the orator is to be condemned, the opposite fault — namely, striking vio- lently against existing and unalterable relations — is likewise to be regarded as contrary to morality, and contrary to good sense. A shock of this kind annihilates immediately the effect of the most powerful oration, and we need only to. ex- amine the sort of displeasure which is excited by it, in order to see that the orator who has committed the fault in question, is chargeable, not with a defect in good sense, or in pro- ductive genius, but, what is far worse, in moral feeling. If word ni(T$a)Tds, with an incorrect accent, and represented the excla- mation of the hearers, who repeated the word in order to correct the pronunciation, as an answer to his question, and as a declaration on their part that they regarded iEschines as an hireling. This expla- nation is given upon the authority of the Scholiasts, and, so far as I know, is accepted by many, because the reader is particularly delighted with discovering such artifices in orators ; but that it is the correct one, I doubt. Certainly such a misplacing of the accent would have offended the ears of the Athenians extremely, and might have occasioned an ex- clamatory correction on their part ; but could this same excitable public have thus coolly entered into the deception, and pretended to pronounce a judgment respecting iEschines, when they only corrected Demosthe- nes'? It seems to me, that Demosthenes, by this artifice, in reality so im- pertinent to the occasion, would not have won over the minds of his hear- ers, but would have only exasperated them. But besides this, while ex- amining the orations of Demosthenes, we should at least consider what is due to his character, the dignity of which, even though but half recog- nized, must protect him from the suspicion of having meddled with such miserable conceits ; we should consider that in this most tragic hour of his life, his strongly exercised soul could only hurl bolt-like Ideas and not play with accents. Moreover, what is more natural than to suppose, as an explanation of this passage, thai he could from the first reckon upon a strong party among the audience, and might anticipate that they would answer the question according to his wishes 1 This, much more befitting explanation is also found in the Scholiasts, who ascribe this answer to a friend of the orator, the comic poet Menander. 118 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, an audience should be so obtuse as not to be offended by mis- takes of this kind — and this is oftener the case than one would think — this indeed renders the labor of the orator easier on the one side, but it renders it more difficult on the other ; for, as the audience does not perceive the want of Adaptation, neither will it perceive the presence of Adapta- tion in an oration. The orator, therefore, should congratulate himself only in an audience that is cultivated enough to be displeased with the slightest unbefitting expression ; if he does not find his audience to be of such a character, he must seek to elevate it to this height, while he shows it a respect which it will certainly learn more and more, to estimate and understand. But with respect to what he may venture upon, and what he may not venture upon, let the orator decide, not according to the conjectures of worldly shrewdness and sense, but accord- ing to moral principles ; the hardest and strongest statements, provided only they are adapted and suitable — provided only the orator is called upon, by virtue of his office and his call- ing, to make them — will never do injury ; they will never weaken, but will always strengthen the effect of his oration, and the Affection w T hich he would produce. How cultivated was the feeling for the Befitting and the Adapted, in the Athenians in the time of Demosthenes, and yet this orator never feared to charge home upon them, with the greatest force and impressiveness, their degeneracy, their failures and weaknesses ; and I am not aware that he ever injured the ef- fect of his orations by the freedom which was so unmistake- ably connected with his love for his country and the existing OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 119 constitution. Still less should the sacred orator fear to de- pict moral and religious corruption, according to its true re- ality, and to terrify the impenitent sinner by the retributions of the future life. He who omits to do this from fear of es- tranging his audience from himself, does not consider that the hearer altogether involuntarily judges of the orator ac- cording to moral rules, and allows him to venture upon all that he may rightfully venture upon ; that the most vehe* inent charges do not exasperate him, provided only he sees that the orator, by virtue of the relation in which he stands to himself, is justified therein ; nay, that there is a propen- sity in the moral and religious nature of man, which is close- ly akin to the propensity for the Terrible and Sublimt, by virtue of which he is better pleased with a merited humilia- tion, that may lead to better sentiments, than with that su- perficial emotion which is generated by flattering and specious discourse* Thus the renowned orators who spoke before Louis XIV. and his Court — an auditory who surely would never have pardoned the slightest impropriety in them — often employed and applied all the terrors of religion, and all the censorial power of their office, and always with the great* est effect* While, on the one hand, Adaptation in the oration pre* vents every offence that might suppress Affection in the hearer, on the other it contributes directly to the awakening of Affection. If, namely, the orator moves in a circle of such thoughts, images, and allusions, as recall into memory the experiences of the hearer himself, and the scenes of which he was himself a witness, the oration must influence with double 120 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE; OR, power. For in this way the Idea is not merely made clear and distinct to his mind, but since the orator associates it with all that the hearer has himself thought and felt, the whole inner being of the hearer is taken possession of, and that inward fermentation, which we denominate Affection, is awakened. There may be many forms of expression suit- able to the thought, and intelligible to the hearer ; but there is perhaps still another in particular, by which a region of his mind enveloped in darkness may be suddenly filled with light, and which at least strikes some of the manifold threads of which the web of his feelings consist ; this latter form the orator should know how to find, and he will be enabled to find* it by means of that study of his hearers which is grounded in an interest for their well-being. If he should prefer another mode of presentation, to this form of clothing his thought, this would be an egotistic procedure that would punish itself by the inefficiency of the oration. But the oc- casional oration shows how strong the impression is, which can be produced by the wise use of feelings already ex- isting in the hearers. If the preacher speaks on the occasion of the opening of a campaign, or of a festival in commemo- ration of a victory or a peace, he may, in this instance, pre- suppose the existence in the hearers of certain prevailing views and opinions, certain hopes and fears, certain feelings of joy and thankfulness, with greater certainty than in the case of ordinary discourses, when the relations that exist are not so determinate and precise ; and if he understands, with only moderate wisdom, how to converge all these diffe- rent rays into the focus of his leading Idea, he will be able OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 121 to raise his Idea to a very high grade of Affection. This is the reason why the effect of sermons on Festival occasions is always greater than that of ordinary discourses on the Sabbath. In the former case, the hearer, however unfavorable his mental state may be for the purposes of the orator, nevertheless, al- ways brings with him some sentiments of a religious charac- ter, upon which the orator can very easily fasten. It also belongs to this Adaptation in the oration, that the orator never rise into expressions, phrases, and images that are above the language of cultivated society, even before an audito- ry that would be able to follow a higher style of thought, and to understand more exquisite modes of speech. I mention this for the sake of those who think they impart a peculiar dignity and force to their discourse, by the use of poetic ornament, by employing words which they bring forth from the dust of past centuries, and by constructions which are foreign to pure prose. But this is always only a cold show without power : if power, as I affirm, can mean nothing else than the efficiency of the ora- tion in exciting Affection. In the throng of active life, amidst heart-rending misfortunes, during the silent hours of contem- plation, does the hearer make known his thoughts and feelings to himself and to others, in a highly flowery style, and in strange unusual phraseology ? Certainly not. The style of expression which spontaneously associates itself with the silent emotions of our heart, when they come forth into conscious- ness, is always as noble as it is simple ; if therefore the orator would penetrate into our inner life, and renew again the tra- ces of forgotten thoughts and feelings, if he would actually ad- dress us, he must employ the very same well-known and cus- 11 122 ELOQUENCE A VlRTtJE J Olt, tomary language in wliich we are wont to commune with our- selves. Every strange expression, nay, every unusual phrase, tears us away from ourselves, instead of leading us back into ourselves ; and the stream of inward harmonies, which per- haps was on the point of flowing forth, suddenly breaks upon some such unexpected obstacle, and is dissipated. Moreover, with the disturbance of this flow is connected displeasure to- wards a man who decks himself out in a showy costume of sounding phrases, which, after all, are not so very difficult to collect together, instead of employing my common, every-day language along with me, to his own true advantage, as well as mine. Those very rare instances when the speaker selects an unusual expression for an unusual thought, are of course ex- cepted here ; but to allow one's self in even the slightest de- parture from ordinary language^ unless there is some particu- lar reason to justify it, seems to me to be unadapted to the ora- tion, and contrary to its aim, and is therefore, according to the theory of Eloquence here laid down, morally blame-worthy. It will of course be understood in this connection, that I do not intend to disapprove of the use of Bible language ; on the contrary, I would recommend to all sacred orators, the frequent employment of the expressions and images of the sacred Scrip- tures, as a highly adapted and effectual means of exciting Af- fection, provided only they be not brought in merely to fill up empty space, but are fused into the discourse, retaining their whole dignity and force. They are highly adapted ; for the lan- guage of the Bible can never become antiquated, because it affords so many highly significant expressions for the manifold conditions of human life and states of the human heart, many OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 123 of which also appear as proverbial phrases in the language of common intercourse ; and however much, religious education, and the reading of the Bible, may have been neglected, the or- ator may yet, in the case of the generality of hearers, reckon with certainty upon a thought being understood sooner in a Biblical than in a Philosophical dress. But the great power of Bible language, in awakening Affection, consists principally in this — that, in it, the expression for the Understanding, and the expression for the Feelings, are not different, as in merely human representations, but are always one and the same. The figures, so frequent in the Bible, while they have all the precision of an abstract terminology, at the same time trans- fer the Idea into the web of human relationships, and clothe it with all that can exert influence upon the mind ; they are a ray which unites in one, both light and heat, and passes over from the mind into the heart, thus kindling the whole man. If now, as is often the case, a sentence from the Bible, on our first meeting with it, or upon after-occasions, has awakened a whole series of pious emotions, the orator, by citing it as he passes on, can evoke anew the Affection which has already become con- nected with it,, and can apply it to the purposes of his oration. On account of this great advantage, I would advise the employ- ment of the language of the Bible, even though the orator can- not presuppose that the hearer is acquainted with it, or that it has ever contributed to awaken his inward life ; for by this frequent employment of it, this closer acquaintance, and this influence upon the mind, will be brought about by degrees. But that which prevents the orator from entering into the conceptions of his hearers, speaking to them in their own Ian* 124 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, guage, and exciting Affection by the Adaptation of his dis- course to their Individuality, is, in the last analysis of it, noth- ing but a moral defect. In the main, it is that self-complacent vanity which only desires the pleasure of expressing itself apt- ly and agreeably, and which shrinks from the difficult and of- tentimes violent effort which is requisite in order to go out from self, and into another Individuality. From this weak- ness arise, in sacred Eloquence, the loosely constructed, flow- ery orations, which, indeed, since they are adapted to excite the fancy of the hearer, often meet with enthusiastic ap- plause, (inasmuch as men generally, blinded by their own vanity, seldom set such an estimate upon the vanity of others, and chastise it, as it deserves,) yet whose idle play of thoughts and images can never produce a noble Affection urging on to great resolves. Secondly, there is also a certain aversion to the process in question, which may be found even in noble and tender minds, and which prevents them from en- tering into the relations of their hearers, seizing their hearts with a strong grasp, and thus giving to their discourse that Adaptation which awakens Affection. If an orator absorbs himself entirely in the Idea, and developes it with great care- fulness, but touches only superficially and generally upon the relations in which it is to be realized, in order not to strike against any obstacle, or to give offence to any one, we may presuppose with certainty the existence of the very aversion above-mentioned. Thirdly, too great yielding on the part of the orator, in sacrificing his Idea and his Individuality, and in employing himself solely with the relations and inclinations of his hearers, in order to say something agreeable and pleas- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 129 ing to them, deserves the very same, if not greater, moral con- demnation, as the faults already mentioned, and exerts the same debilitating influence upon the discourse ; an orator who is thus moved, often lets his hearers melt away hi powerless emotion, but he will never kindle in them a true Affi on, since the clear ray of his Idea, by which alone this if I a ac- complished, never breaks through the veil which surrounds it. Thus we have specified three errors : absorption in self, ab- sorption in the Idea of the oration, absorption in the relations of the hearers. If a Rhetorical presentation of thought has a decided preponderance to one of these three sides, it is without Adaptation, and powerless. In order, therefore, to speak with perfect Adaptation, the orator must so bring together, unite, and reconcile these three different claims, which his own Indi- viduality, the Idea of his oration, and the Relations of his hear- ers, make upon him, as that each one of them be satisfied with- out any disparagement to the others ; and in order to do this, nothing more is necessary, than is required in order to any truly moral action — namely, a constantly clear consciousness of our own Individuality, of the Idea according to which, and of the Relations in which, we act. But in order to the solution of this problem, extremely great strength of character in Rhetori- cal as well as in Moral respects, is necessary ; and how very much both are one and the same in essence, is seen in the fact, that orations, which are excellent both as Rhetorical and Moral processes, are not distinguished by any outward brilliancy and splendor ; for when the three different elements above-mention- ed are fused together, their colors flow into each other, while, on the contrary, imperfect orations, for the very reason that 11* 130 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, some one of these elements appears separated from the others, provided they are elaborated with any tolerable degree of abil- ity, readily acquire a brilliancy which astonishes the ignorant hearer, but which truly enlivens neither him nor any one else. In this respect Demosthenes deserves the very highest praise, since no orator has ever united with such a dignified presentation of his own Individuality, and such a transparent developement of his Idea, such an all-comprehending reference to existing Relations ; and from the constant fusion of these three constituent elements, originates his forcible simplicity, which would have been totally destroyed, if, in his orations, the Lyrical and the Philosophical had ever been separated from the Real. On the other hand, Cicero is far less deserv- ing of being set up as a model of Adaptation in the oration ; not that he ever rises above his hearer's power of comprehen- sion, or brings forward anything unbefitting and offensive, but at one time his own Individuality, at another, his Idea, at another, the existing Circumstances, are too prominent ; and that one of these three elements which is predominant at any time, throws the other two into the shade. But on ac- count of this very fault, his coloring is more brilliant than that of Demosthenes, and he can, in general, be understood with less laborious study into the relations of the age in which he appeared. Without wishing in the least to compare Massillon with Demosthenes, or Bossuet with Cicero, they nevertheless have this similarity — that Massillon, like the Grecian orator, with- out giving up himself and his Idea, realizes to himself, in the most accurate manner, the life of his hearers ; on the contrary, OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 131 Bossuet, and indeed, as I conjecture, on account of a less pure character, almost entirely neglects this latter reference. For this reason, Massillon inspires us, and we forget to admire him — the highest praise that can be given to the orator ; on the contrary, Bossuet excites, even by his most sublime reli- gious elevation, nothing but cold admiration, or, at most, an inflammation of the Fancy that is morally useless. If, more- over, the French themselves almost always place Bossuet be- fore Massillon, this only proves, like many other judgments of their critics, how little they know how to recognize and esti- mate that which is truly excellent in their own literature. APPENDIX. TAS TE. What Taste properly is, is as much a matter of dispute, as is the place which it should hold in a Theory of Ait, and the influence which should be conceded to it in the production and criticism of works of Art. Indeed, the attempt has been made in modern times to bring it into utter condemnation^ and to strip it of all influence, as a perverted principle which we have derived from the French ; yet since the Public, how- ever much it may have been enjoined upon it not to exercise Taste in its judgments, does not, nevertheless, cease to regard its requisitions as valid ; since, likewise, Taste sometimes un- consciously influences the judgments of those who despise it, 132 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OK, it would seem that it only needs to be seen in the right light, and to be placed in the right position, in order to be univer- sally recognized. It can, indeed, find no place in such theo- ries as recognize no other rules for Art but those which the Imagination imposes upon itself; for Taste will never have any connection with the Imagination, so long as the Imagi- nation works separate from the other faculties of the soul. But in this very separation lies the fault ; for how is it possi- ble that Art, which, from its nature, is to seize upon the whole man, should excite into action the Imagination alone, and not the other powers also ? And even if this should be the case, still the ethical power, although it will not indeed predominate in Art as it does in Rhetoric, will certainly not be without influence upon the impulse of the Imagination predominant in it. In the ability, then, of working according to ethical Ideas, I would seek the source of Taste, and affirm that Taste is nothing but the selection of the Befitting and Adapted, guided by ethical Ideas. Its proper home, therefore, is within the sphere of Eloquence ; or rather, its sphere should be extended over the whole practical life of the orator, since regard for the individual peculiarities of his fellow-men, and for the rela- tions in which he finds himself to them, should accompany him at all times. But if Taste has become a moral habit in him, I do not understand how he can suddenly drop it, when he turns back from the circle of his outward activity into himself, in order to unfold the Ideas of his Imagination, and how he can here speak with himself in a language, and make use of a manner of representation which he would never allow OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 133 himself in, in his relations to his fellow-men. Taste in the above-given sense, should therefore extend itself over all Poetry ; the Ideas of the Imagination must be made to pass through this medium, and if this is done, they will gain in liveliness, and the discourse in power and perfection. For in order to make his work a living whole — in order to give it In- dividuality — the artist must impart to it characteristics of the most precise stamp; and some of them will always be failures, unless, besides the other relations in which the work origin- ated, the moral relations also, are to be recognized in it by the regard paid to them. But Eloquence, in respect to Taste, must always differ from Poetry in that, in the case of Elo- quence, the selection of the Befitting and Adapted is accom- panied with the design of exciting Affection, while Taste in the Poet, on the contrary, is a quality that works without any design in view, except the mere production of Beauty. More- over, the term Taste, so offensive to many, would not be so unsuitable to denote such a separating, selecting principle, as has been spoken of; while, at the same time, it would occur to us, that as the sensuous Taste manifests itself differently in different persons, so also the moral Taste does not pass the same judgments in Eloquence and Poetry, in different ages and relations ; for although the rule remains ever the same, it is modified by circumstances in the most manifold way. 134 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OK T CHAPTER VI. THE LAW OF CONSTANT PROGRESS. After having previously become acquainted with the main parts into which the oration divides, we have now also seen what should be the nature of the subordinate represen- tations by which the Ideas are developed. But the ques- tion now arises, as well in respect to those main parts, as to these subordinate representations : By what Law are their order and succession determined ? We set forth here the Law of constant Progress, and have, in the first place, to show that this is an ethical Principle. Not only should the inward moral developement of man, considered as a striving after a perfection never to be abso- lutely reached, be a constant progress, but also when in active life he attempts the actualization of an ethical Idea, he should seek to approach continually, and without intermission, the prescribed goal. If the difficulties that stand in the way, de- termine him to entirely give up his plan, or if, occupying him- self with secondary things, he suffers himself to be turned aside from the path upon which he has entered, so that he returns back into it late, and with spent energies, we justly charge him with being wanting in that heart, that constancy, that force of character which is an essential constituent of Virtue. He cannot, it is true, approach his goal always in a straight line, so to speak, and with even pace ; he will some* OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 135 times advance slower, because he must remove the obstruc- tions which oppose him, out of his way, or because he must slowly prepare the way for a work which cannot succeed at once. But even while making these elaborate preparations, the eye should never lose sight of the goal, and the striving to reach it, must be plainly apparent, even in the greatest di- gressions* But this progress itself receives its perfection from the steady constancy prevailing in it — ?. e., from the easy connection and fusion of the parts of the process, so that each particular part, as it was occasioned and prepared for, by what preceded, so in its turn serves as the occasion and pre- paration for what follows. If this essential requisite be want- ing, and the movement of the discourse is only by leaps and impulses, individual brilliant fragments may, indeed, be the result, but no continuous ethical life. From Ethics, therefore, we derive the Law of constant Pro- gress, (for it is contained necessarily and essentially in Ethics,) and not from the art of representation employed in Philosophy or Poetry, in which it is to be met with only under many li- mitations, nay, is often forced out by the opposite principle. For the activity of the Poet, like that of the Thinker, returns back into itself, because of the effort to impart roundness and finish to its creations, and is accompanied with a rest and sa- tisfaction which is grounded in the" consciousness of the pos- sibility of perfectly representing its Idea. The ethical striv- ing, on the contrary, in the consciousness that it can never reach the Ideal of its Perfection, nay, can never exhibit even a single Idea perfectly realized in actual existence, is never to give itself up to rest and self-satisfastion, but with abiding zeal, 136 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, though with reflection, is to hasten on immediately from each step in the process that has been taken, to a new one. And if the law of constant Progress is found in certain species of Poetry — as for example, the Drama — it must not be* suppos- ed that Rhetoric borrowed it from them ; on the contrary, it imparted it to them, since the Drama is the representation of the ethical activity of men, and must therefore retain some- thing of the ethical element in it. As, therefore, the individual actions in a complete moral process join on uponone another, so also in the oration should the ethical Ideas and the adapted representations which serve to develope them, be methodically arranged. *So unceasing and vehement is the progress of the genuine orator, that he detests every thought, every word that does not bring him nearer the goal, as a weakness, a fault, nay, as a sin, and casts it from him. If it is necessary to instruct the hearer in things of secondary importance, that might have influence upon his decision ; to moderate his excited feelings ; to obviate an ob- jection ; he checks for a moment the rapidity of his course, yet only in order to be able to advance with so much the greater speed ; nay, it may sometimes seem as though he were de- viating entirely from his path, yet, even in his deviation, the movement towards the goal is constantly apparent, and it is soon seen that he turned aside into the by-path, only in order to reach the goal the sooner. And in this movement, sometimes vehement, sometimes gentle, thought without effort joins on upon thought, so that, from the first to the last, there is an un- broken chain, in which not the least break, either for the Un- derstanding or for the Feelings, is discoverable. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 137 Furthermore, it is plain, that by the application of this ethical principle to the Rhetorical presentation of thought, its chief aim, the production of Affection, is reached. If men find in themselves no enthusiasm for a really great and beauti- ful Idea, the reason must be, either that they do not contem- plate it in all its relations to Happiness, Virtue, and Duty, or that they allow themselves to be too greatly dampened by the individual difficulties in the way of its realization. But if all the individual elements and relations of the Idea are made to pass before their minds, one after another, in rapid progression, so that they can take in at a glance, all that is great, sublime, and rich in blessing, flowing from it, it is im- possible that they should not warm towards it ; every new re- presentation on the part of the orator, is a new spur which urges them on to the realization of the Idea. At the same time, the mind depressed and bowed down by the presenta- tion of difficulties and hindrances, is, as it were, freed from a burden, by the removal of its doubts, so that it no longer anxiously holds itself in reserve, but can freely and readily yield itself up to the influence which is exerted upon it. But in order that this warmth with which the mind begins to glow, may not grow cold, but may increase and constantly diffuse itself, it is necessary that this progress of the orator be also constant. If the thoughts are not closely linked together, so that the understanding perceives a defect in their connection ; if it is difficult for the mind to change from one feeling already awakened, to another, or to pass from a feeling to thoughts not specially connected with it, there arises Reflec- 12 138 ELOaUENCE A VIRTUE \ OR, tion in the hearer's mind, not upon the Idea, but upon the ora- tor ; and the effect of this Reflection is so chilling, that all the warmth which had already been produced perhaps, at once vanishes, and the orator must begin his work over again from the beginning. In the case of a constant Progress, on the contrary, the effect of what follows is strengthened and favor- ed by what precedes, and the effect of what precedes by the effect of what folio ws. # Thus have we shown, as we flatter ourselves, that through this Law of constant Progress, which is ethical in its ori- gin, the chief aim of the Ehetorical presentation of thought, the excitement of Affection, is also reached. But in order to obtain a more thorough insight into the scope and appli- cation of the Law, we subjoin in addition the following par- ticulars. In the first place, so far as respects this necessary progress in the oration, it is to be noticed that, though it admits of narration, it entirely excludes description. In narration, the different constituent parts of a subject follow one upon another, and the progress of the oration is not checked by it ; but in description, on the contrary, these constituent parts stand beside each other, and form a quiet picture, whereby the swift, strong movement of the oration is stopped. Hence the orator, if called upon, as is very often the case, to des- cribe the character of a person, or a particular posture of things in actual life, should never in his narration exhibit the * Cicero seems to mean the same thing, when he says : Deinde inventa, non solum ordine, sed etiam momento quodam atque judicio dispensare atque componere. — De Orat., I. 31. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 139 different qualities of a person, or the different characteristics of things, beside each other, but he should find a Historical thread, by means of which his representation may run off like a gradually developing History. It is exceedingly difficult to do this, since, in order to do it, the orator is often obliged to do violence to the representation as it exists in his own mind, and to take objects which he has apprehended and con- templated as a quiet whole, out of this form, and put them into another. Yet this is absolutely necessary ; unless it be done, the orator falls away from the Rhetorical into the Po- etical representation, and allows himself and his hearers a rest that is destructive of all Affection. The descriptions in the orations of the Ancients, are wrought entirely according to this principle ; they are always narrative, never descriptive ; in modern Rhetoric, the contrary is almost always the case, and hence the heavy dragging movement found in it. The Law of Progress also determines the extent of the de- velopement of each individual thought that appears in the Rhetorical series. For the orator must not allow one thought to so expand and become prominent at the expense of another, as to produce a pause in the movement of the oration. The recondite nature of many thoughts, which require develope- ments, explanations, arguments, may often lead to this fault. Hence the genuine orator will rather make up his discourse out of thoughts that need only to be enounced, not explained and proved. Strictly speaking, it is a fault to express the same thought in different language — the first time obscurely, the second time by explanation and circumlocution ; for the Law of Progress, strictly observed, requires that the de- 140 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ) OR, velopement of the thought progress with every new sentence ; the orator, therefore, must know how to find immediately, the plainest, most forcible expression, and to be satisfied with it once for all. With respect to the arguments often necessary in Elo- quence, it might seem as though they must stop the swift current of the oration, and impart to it that slow movement — returning into itself — which is peculiar to Philosophy. Yet this w r ill not be the case, provided these arguments are brought forward according to the general principles laid down in the First Book. Would the orator show the Possibility of a thing, he does it by proposing a Plan, by citing an Ex- ample, showing that in similar circumstances the like has al- ready been done ; would he prove the Actuality of a fact, he cites Testimony, and establishes its validity. In this way every thing is made out by the exhibition of the Real, of the plainly Apparent, and there is no need of a slow, tedious chain of abstract propositions. This is not necessary even when the Truth of a thing is to be demonstrated ; in this case, the orator refers to a universally recognized Authority, the weight of which immediately decides the question ; or he makes use of public opinion, which has already, on another occasion, decided according to truth, and shows his hearer, by means of a brief and readily-apprehended enthymeme, that he cannot possibly judge differently, or decide differently, in the present case, from what he did in the former, without fall- ing into self-contradiction. In this way Demosthenes con- structs his formidable enthymematic trains of Eeasoning, which, so far from hindering the progress of the orator, are OUTLINES OP A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 141 rather to be compared to the lightning, in force and rapidity. It often happens that a thought, in a position from which the logical arrangement would not displace it, exerts a retard- ing influence, and interrupts the continuity of the Rhetorical series, because it seems neither to have been sufficiently pre- pared for by what precedes, nor to sufficiently prepare for what follows. To avoid this case, and so to present every single thought as that it shall not only not retard, but accelerate the sweep of the oration, is one of the most difficult problems in Eloquence ; yet it may be solved, as it seems to us, by the aid of the principles which we have laid down. In order to this, we must recognise a gradation in the relative rank of the Rhetorical Ideas. Though Duty, Virtue, and Happiness, are all equal in importance, yet the three forms under which they present themselves are not. The first of these forms is the Religious, then follows the Ethical, and lastly the Political. Under these, again, stand Truth, Possibility, and Actuality, in the order in which they are here mentioned. Now in every separate developement of a subordinate Idea, if all that pertains to it is not fused with a higher Idea, and interwoven at all points with the developement of it, the steady flow of the oration is retarded and checked. Suppose that a sacred orator is discoursing with reference to the Ideas of Truth and Actuality — e. g., that he wishes to present the events of his time from a religious point of view — beginning with the de- velopement of Truth, he may, provided he has reached a pro- per place for it, cast a passing glance at Actuality ; for des- cription based upon this latter subordinate Idea, if he should 12* 142 ELOaUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, begin with it, or should give it a developement independent of that of Truth, would be a dead stop, and not progress, and could not well be connected either with what followed or with what preceded. An orator before the Court, or before the people, commits the same error, if, when he might make the higher Idea of Duty or of Virtue predominant, he neglects it, and allows himself in a developement entirely unconnected with it, of the Idea of Civil or Positive Law, which he should have em- ployed only as a corollary and confirmation of the former. With all the modesty that becomes us Moderns in criticising the great models of Antiquity, I venture to charge iEschines with committing this latter error in his oration against Ctesi- phon. Since his attack upon Demosthenes in strictness was based upon the Idea of Virtue, since he wished to represent his life and character as unworthy and detestable, it was a mistake to dwell so long, as he does, in the very beginning, upon the positive statutes that might take from his opponent the crown which had been decreed to him. We feel, in the perusal, how weak this whole first part of his oration is, and how little it prepares for the succeeding part, in which he ex- amines the life of Demosthenes ; nay, between these two parts there is a chasm over which he could not possibly carry his hearers without their minds becoming entirely cold and emo- tionless. That Demosthenes perceived this mistake, it seems to me is evident, from the circumstance that he protests in the very beginning of his oration, against the demand of his opponent, that he shall in the defence follow the same plan which he did in the attack ; far from doing this, he rather sets OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 143 forth the Idea of Virtue as the Idea upon which he shall found his oration, and not until after he has refuted a great portion of the objections brought against him, by a history of his past life, does he occupy himself with the examination of the positive laws which seem to be adverse to the proposition of Ctesiphon. Hence, from the beginning of this oration to the end, there is no pause to be perceived, but the mind is kept continually on the stretch, and borne along unceasingly from one important point to another. To impart this constant flow to an oration, is perhaps the most difficult among the many difficult things in Eloquence. A Poem, like the Poet himself, is born ; in some fine moment of inspiration it stands out before him, an articulated whole, and, so far as the place, at least, is concerned, is completed without further effort. But as Virtue is born with no man, but is acquired only through a long series of efforts, so like- wise the oration, considered as a moral product, is never com- plete in its first origin, but becomes so only by means of labor and pains perse veringly applied to it. Nay, inasmuch as the activity even of the most virtuous man can never be wholly perfect — i, e., can never be wholly conformed to the Law, and, at the same time, to existing relations — the question may arise, whether the oration, which, according to my assertion at least, is a moral act and process, can be perfect — a question which I should answer in the negative. The Adaptation which has been spoken of in a former chapter, can itself be reached only approximately ; for in order to be perfect, an absolutely Divine knowledge of all characters and relations would be requisite. The second law also, laid down by us — that of constant Pro- 144 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, gress — in its perfection can belong only to the action of God in the government of the world, but never to human action, which is ever imperfect. But be this as it may, so much is certain, and with respect to it every man will agree with me, and the more readily the better orator he is, that in the plan of the oration as it is first presented to the mind, the thoughts are never found already arranged in this con- stant progressive flow, but must be afterwards wrought into it. As they first present themselves, they are hard, brittle, and separate particles ; the mind must seize them, and by grinding them incessantly upon each other, crush them, until the friction kindles the mass, and it runs like molten ore. The higher Ideas, thrown, as it were, into this solution, take up the thoughts which belong to them, and which, now that they are fluid, obey the mystic power which attracts like to like, so that they form themselves into a firm chain. Here the truth of our assertion becomes very apparent again, that it is the Character which makes the orator. Could the most brilliant Imagination, and the most profound and penetrating Reason, succeed in so elaborating the thoughts, if they were not guided and supported by the power of the mor- al Will ? Both Imagination and Reason, taken by themselves alone, lead the orator away from the sharply-drawn line along which he should move, and seduce him into a useless pause, and an idle undue unfolding of his thoughts. They can find no in- terest at all, in the elaboration of the unpretending, highly sim- ple conceptions borrowed from common life ; at the same time, they grow weary, and, finally, try to exchange an irksome business for one more agreeable, unless they are actuated and OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC HHETORIC. 1 1 > urged on by another power. And this power is not the mere empty rage for shining before an assembly ; for vanity is not capable of such a tension of mind ; nay, vanity does not even feel itself to be called upon to make such an effort, since it is satisfied with a loosely constructed oration garnished with some showy passages. For the hearer is capable of criticising such an oration and of admiring it, but let him be ever so culti- vated, he can never do full justice to an excellence lying so deep as the steady unceasing sweep of thought. He only feels its effects upon him, like the breathing of the living Spirit, with- out knowing the cause ; and for the very reason that so much that is Beautiful and Excellent arises in his own mind, he forgets that the orator has spoken excellently. That Demosthenean determination, that iron diligence, which is requisite in order to the formation of the rhetorical, constantly progressive train of thought, can spring only out of the effort to fill the minds of others with great Ideas, in which the orator has lost himself; the effort to satisfy his own conscience, and to employ only that which can rightfully contribute towards his success: and what is such an effort but the moral power of the Character in its finest developement and highest dignity ? 146 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OH, CHAPTER VII. THE LAW OF VIVACITY. In the beginning of this treatise, we attempted to seize the active process of the orator in its origin, as it unfolds it- self under the guidance of certain definite moral Ideas. In this second part of the work, we have sought to become ac- quainted with the nature of the representations with which the leading Idea of the orator becomes encompassed, as well as with the rules in accordance with which these representations are linked together. We have now to conceive of the active process of the orator, as it comes forth into Language from his inward being, and here we find that his progress in the de- velopement of his Idea, and the effect produced by it upon the hearers, cause his own relation to them, though remaining the same in substance, to change every moment in respect to in- dividual circumstances ; and we demand that this active pro- cess of his, without wavering in its essential character and pur- pose, do, nevertheless, through a constant variation in the form, keep company with all these different variations in his relations. This is the third and last Law of the Rhetorical pre- sentation of thought. We denominate it the Law of Vivacity. Like the former Laws that have been mentioned, this Law also is of ethical origin, and wholly foreign to the Philosophi- cal, as well as the Poetical, presentation of thought. In both of these latter the mind isolates itself, and since it is not its de- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC, 147 sign to exert an influence upon the circumstances which sur- round it, so neither does it allow circumstances to exert an influence upon itself. Hence the unvarying uniformity of the state and condition in which it remains from the begin- ning to the end of its work, allows the mind, in these latter cases, to give to its products a fixed, unchangeable form. Moral activity, on the contrary, would entirely preclude such an iso- lation ; it is itself a constant reception of outward influences, and an equally constant reaction upon them ; and since all that is outward is never still, but fluctuates restlessly hither and thither, man, when in action, must change his position in respect to the outward every moment. This is not bend- ing the Will to the force of circumstances, but is in reality the only means of obtaining dominion over them ; their con- stantly varying pressure would utterly overwhelm, if the manner of meeting them did not vary with equal rapidity. True Virtue on the side of Law, is indeed unalterably the same, but on the side of Life, is constantly changing and new. It would betray a want of elasticity in the character, if one should continue the same way of action in entirely different circumstances. This change in the position and movements of the orator, peculiar to moral activity of all sorts, can be perceived in the case of the activity of the orator, only in the thoughts and the words, and in their constantly varying turns, since the orator makes use of thoughts and words only, in order to the realiza- tion of his Idea. These turns are the so-called rhetorical Figures: an expression which must not be taken to denote mere ornaments coldly and artificially contrived to set off the 148 ELOQUENCE A VlfcTUE J OR, discourse, (to which the expression might indeed lead,) but Turns and lively Movements in thought and language, prompted by the Imagination under the guidance of rhetorical Affection in conflict with the opposing sentiments of the hearers ; for which reason, perhaps, these latter expressions are preferable, because they are liable to no such misunderstand- ing. Similar turns arise easily and naturally in the social in- tercourse of cultivated and lively minds. For since social life of the higher order involves the mental cultivation of minds through the interchange of views, each man alternately playing the part of the orator and the hearer, it is evi- dent that, although from the language of such social life, nothing indeed is to be learned in relation to the rhetori- cal series of representations, because it is, of necessity, frag- mentary in its matter, yet much is to be learned from it in relation to the turns of thoughts and words, which become more lively and forcible on account of the closer action and reaction within this sphere. The so-called Figures which are employed by orators, and which are specifically enumerated by Rhetoricians, are in reality only such turns of thought and expression as arise in the active intercourse of men, elevated and polished in order to adopt them to a higher connection. Hence, if the orator would employ Figures rightly, he should not borrow them from manuals of Rhetoric, or even from the most perfect works in Eloquence, but should go back to the language of common intercourse, and appropriate to his own purposes all those living movements and turns in thought and expression, the influence of which he has felt upon himself, and has also imparted to others. Or rather, the orator must OUTLINES OP A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 149 realize the hearer to himself with definite features, with all his opposing views and inclinations, and represent the whole oratorical process to himself, not monologically, but dialogi- cally ; then he will know instinctively, the proper time* to waken attention, to instruct, to exhort, to show the connection or the opposition of several thoughts, to meet an objection, to hurl it back again, to place a truth in clear light by an unexpected surprising turn, to pass from one truth to another, to restrain his feelings, to give them full play, &c. Having such a lively sense of his position and relations, and of the changes which he is producing in them by the progress which he is constantly making, his thoughts, and consequently, their expression, will take on a different form at every step. But if this alternation of forms in the rhetorical presenta- tion of thought, is of ethical origin, as we have endeavored to show, it is also the most powerful and effectual means of all, in exciting Affection.! For Affection in the hearer is kin- dled by Affection in the orator ; and how can the orator show more plainly, that he is wholly animated by an Idea, and by the striving to impart it to others, than by exhausting all the most lively forms of presentation ? Adaptation, in the dis- course, taken by itself alone, would not produce such an impression ; even the firmest and most labored chain of thought, unless each link in it were distinguished by a pecu- liar structure, would, in the end, only weary by a fixed uni- formity. But by means of the peculiar, and often surprising * Cicero. Orator. 39 et 40. t Jam vero ad affectus nil magisducit. — Quint. IX. 1. 13 150 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, turn, in which each new representation is announced, it is made to pierce more deeply into the mind, which, incessantly stimulated on so many sides, is compelled, in the end, to yield itself up without resistance, to the exercise of Affection. This influence upon the Affections is the distinguishing mark by which we can recognise Rhetorical figures, and can separate them from Poetical. The latter are created by the Imagination for the Imagination ; they are a painting, a pic- turing, a representing. The Rhetorical figures are produced by the Mind — using this term to denote the whole inner being of man so far as it is under the guidance of the Will — for the Mind ; they should seize, enchain, move, carry away. Poetical figures are brilliant and adorned, and Poetic Art delights in their splendor ; Rhetorical figures are a naked power, which avoids all pomp, because its influence is liable to be hindered thereby, or to be directed to the Imagination in- stead of the Affections. If the orator would acquire a quick feeling and an unerring sense for Rhetorical figures, let him read Demosthenes ; for in respect to him, the Ancients boast that he never brought forward a thought without expressing it in some peculiar figure.^ In reading Demosthenes, we shall also perceive most clearly, how great is the differ- ence between Rhetorical and Poetical figures ; for no style can be freer from all that we denominate Poetry of expres- sion, than that of Demosthenes. In saying this, however, we would by no means assert, that none of those figures which are commonly termed Poetical, are to be permitted in an ora- * Cicero Orator, c. 39, — Et vero nullus fere ab eo locus sine quadam conformatione sententiae dicitur. OUTLINES OP A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 151 tion. Everything depends upon the application, upon rela- tive position and influence, and it is very possible indeed, that in a different use and connection the same figure would at one time depict to the Imagination, at another awaken Affection. There being this difference between Poetical and Rhetori- cal figures, the specific enumeration of the former is as pro- per, as that of the latter is improper. Since the Imagination renders itself independent of the external world, and allows it no influence upon its creations, its forms are by no means in- numerable in their manifoldness ; for their source is in the Im- agination alone, which, notwithstanding all its opulence, is, like every human faculty, limited by certain definable laws. Hence, in the enumeration of the different species of Poetry, as well as in the specification of Poetical figures, completeness is at- tainable. But since the moral activity of man, on the con- trary, is constantly conditioned by his relations to the exter- nal world, all the changes of which can never be computed, it is impossible to enumerate with satisfactory completeness, the forms under which this activity appears. For this reason, we may not in Eloquence, as in Poetry, assume certain species distinguished by Form and Matter ; and hence it was an absurd undertaking to attempt to bring under certain fixed rubrics, the turns which the thoughts of the orator receive, under the influence of the constantly varying cir cumstat ces amidst which his activity is put forth. This mistake would never have been made, if the ethical character of Eloquence had been recognised, and if Eloquence had been properly distinguished from Poetry. That the undertaking was a failure is perfectly evident. There are fine and noble turns of thought in De- 152 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, mosthenes, which no Rhetorician has yet put on his list ; and many have also been invented by orators of the Church, that were entirely unknown to the Ancients. Owing to this confounding of Poetical and Rhetorical figures, there arose among the Ancients an entirely false view of the use and influence of the latter. Cicero and Quintilian agree in this, that they may, in part at least, be employed as adornment merely, of the oration, and to please the hearer.^ But this should never be the purpose for which they are employed, if, as we affirm, they are not productions of the Imagination for the Imagination, but of the Mind for the Mind. Quintilian gives another excellent rule, but one that by no means har- monizes with his other statement just cited, when he says, that all that does not promote the design of the orator, hinders it ;f and certainly, nothing so little promotes, and consequent- ly so greatly hinders, the awakening of a strong Affection that seizes upon the whole mind, and breaks forth into acts, as that light play of the Imagination which leaps from figure to figure. Hence, we assert that no figure should be allowed in an oration, unless each and every word in it, according to the expression of QuintiHan,J awaken an Affection of some sort. Any other use of figures on the part of the orator would betray a departure from his purpose, — L e. 9 a moral weakness, — .and instead of contributing to his design, would * Ex collocatione verborum quae sumuntur quasi lumina, magnum afterunt omatum orationi. — Oicero. Orator, c. 39. — Major pars harum figurarum posita est in delectatione. — Quintilian, IX. 3. t Obstat enim quidquid non adjuvat. — Quintilian, VIII. 6, X Gtuot verba, totidem affectus. — Quintilian, IX. 3. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 1§3 only stand in its way, — i. e., would leave the mind cold, in- stead of warming it. Furthermore, figures, which consist in peculiar turns of thought, are likewise subject to those Laws of Adaptation and constant Progress, which we have laid down for the guidance of Rhetorical discourse generally. If the orator wastes the most impressive and powerful of these figures upon trivial occasions, or employs them imprudently at a time when the mind is not prepared for so violent an impres- sion, this unsuitable application of them will hinder and des- troy their influence. And since, in order to prevent Affec- tion from becoming cold, the thoughts themselves must run on in a continual series, it is also necessary, in order to the same end, that the turn which one thought has taken, easily and naturally lose itself in that which the following thought will assume. In this connection, it is also to be remarked, that the most perfect concatenation of figures loses its effect, if it is repeated successively, after short intervals ; for the mind once impressed, is immediately rid of the impression, by the repetition of that which produced it, and is led away to an idle contemplation of the mere Form, irrespective of the Matter ; the constant recurrence of which would, in this case, produce only a poetico-musical enjoyment. And as we have seen that every offence against the Rhe- torical Laws is to be regarded as a moral defect, so also the wrong use of figures is not to be ascribed to a want of Ge- nius, but only to a weakness of Character. It is vanity, if the orator is profuse in figures for the sake of show and orna- ment ; it is obtuseness of moral feeling, if the orator em* 13* 154 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, ploys them unsuitably ; it is sluggishness, incapacity of en- thusiasm in respect to lofty Ideas, if the orator does not un- derstand how to give to a thought those forcible turns by which alone he can produce the designed impression. Hence, not by means of the mere knowledge of this or of other rules, but only by means of those moral excellences which are op- posed to the faults above-mentioned, will the orator be en- abled to employ figures rightly and with effect. In order to this, a mind is needed which can warm towards moral Ideas ; which, along with all its inspiration and enthusiasm, can keep up a calm, accurate survey of circumstances, and which is far more interested in the true advantage of the hearer — in his improvement and elevation — than in his applause. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 155 CHAPTER VIIL PR08E. In the beginning of this Second Book, we promised to sketch the main features of a Theory of Prose, and to derive them from the ethical principle which we have sought to establish as the foundation of Rhetoric, We now attempt to fulfil this promise. We shall first set forth the distinguishing marks of Prose, while at the same time, for the sake of greater distinctness, we shall compare them with the peculiar characteristics of Poetic discourse. The first difference between Poetry and Prose lies in the Period. Not that the Period is peculiar to Prose alone, and might be dispensed with in finished Poetry. But in Poetry it appears only as a necessary form in the connection of thoughts upon which no special emphasis is laid. In Prose, on the contrary, while it retains this first original characteris- tic, it acquires a still higher significance, and seems to serve particular purposes. Hence we require in Prose, that each Period be marked by something peculiar to itself, and be distinguished from what precedes and follows it, by its form, while in Poetry, we do not regard it as a fault, and hardly notice it, if several sentences exceedingly simple, and entirely similar in their structure, follow one another. The second difference lies in the words used. In Poetry, 156 ELOaUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, every word has worth, not only by virtue of its sense, but also by virtue of its sound and its mere existence ; the most im- portant and the most unimportant words, in respect to sense, as integral parts of the same whole, have equal rank, like cit- izens of a free State. In Prose, on the contrary, the worth of words differs according to their sense ; in every sentence there is one or more words which, by their peculiar position, are elevated and placed in the light, so that the others are subordinate to them, and seem to be designed only to elevate and minister to them. The third difference lies in the relation between long and short syllables, which, in Poetry, is termed Metre, in Prose is termed Number. The difference between the two may perhaps, be best exhibited under the following general cha- racteristics : Metre, though adapted to the Idea, yet appears as something independent in itself, and seeks to attract atten- tion to itself, aside from the thoughts and feelings expressed through it. Hence it not merely determines, with the great- est exactness, the number and succession of long and short syllables ; it also separates them into individual'metrical mem- bers, the frequent repetition of which, impresses their pe- culiar form so much the more, upon the ear and the mind. If the difference between long and short syllables is not duly marked in a sentence, Poetry makes up for what its form would lose thereby in peculiarity and independence of character, by counting and limiting the number of the syl- lables which compose the individual line, and by the regular recurrence of the same sound at the end of the verse. Num- ber, on the contrary, far from separating itself from the OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 157 thought, remains constantly subordinate to it, and it would be regarded as one of the greatest faults of a Prose Period, if one of its parts, by a succession of tones too striking and too agreeable to the ear, should attract attention from the Matter to the Form. Number, therefore, arranges the suc- cession and number of long and short syllables, only so far as is necessary in order that the impression of the discourse upon the sensuous organs may be adapted to the impression which is to be produced upon the mind, so that the mind may not feel less, because the ear has either experienced no agree- able sensation at all, or has been offended. And that Num- ber may not usurp an independence that does not belong to it, it is necessary, and is also universally required, that it be adjusted most accurately to the Matter, as well as the Form ; that it vary with every new thought, nay, every new Period, and thus flow forth in constant manifoldness. If, as I believe, the peculiar characteristics of Prose have been sufficiently exhibited in what has been said, the question now arises: From what principles can we deduce such a form of discourse, and show that it must be constituted so, and not otherwise ? This problem seems never to have been pro- posed even, while yet a similar one respecting the forms of Poetry, has employed many Theorizers, and has been suc- cessfully solved by them. Why, then, is there Prose at all ? What right has it to exist by the side of Poetry ? Should men generally, speak only in verse, and is it owing merely to convenience or inability, that they do not ? We feel that this cannot possibly be, for there are modes of presenting thought in which Poetical forms cannot be employed at all. 158 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR And this does not arise from their intrinsic difficulty, for finished Prose has its peculiar excellences, and, conseque ntly, its difficulties also, which are not easier to master than those of Versification. If, now, Prose is to maintain itself as a pe- culiar form of presenting thought, the rightfulness of its claims must be demonstrable from rational grounds. Or shall we, after having deduced the necessity of the forms of Poetry, represent Prose as a thorough and complete opposite to them, and consider the matter as settled in this way, because there can be nothing which has not its opposite ? But, not to mention that this principle is not justifiable in itself, it could not, even if it were correct, find its application here, because although Prose and Verse indeed differ from each other, they by no means constitute a proper antithesis, the members of which run parallel to each other, and have purely opposite and mutually correspondent marks. The right of Prose to assert its place beside Poetry, and the necessity of the characteristic marks perceived in it, can be satisfactorily shown, only in case it is construed from ethi- cal principles. In deriving the rules to which the moral acti- vity of man, so far as it makes use of discourse for its pur- poses, is subjected, we had arrived at the Law of Vivacity ; while we further develope it, we shall see Prose with all that is peculiar and distinctive in it, originating from it. For, in the first place, since according to the Law of Viva- city, each thought should appear with a peculiar turn and movement, it must naturally impart a peculiar form and structure to the Period also, in which it is presented. On OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 159 this ethical ground* therefore, the carefulness with which the Period is formed in Prose, is explained and justified, while, on the contrary, a similar carefulness in Poetry, would not only be unnecessary, but a fault also. For the change in the form of the Period is expressive of a change in the mental state — a change which is required in the orator, but not al- lowable in the Poet, since he purposes to exhibit only one and the same tone of mind. With the same right that fig- ures in the Thought are assumed in Rhetoric, we believe we may assume figures in the Period, which are to be distin- guished still further, from figures in the Language. More- over, much that is cited by Rhetoricians under this latter name, is a peculiarity in the structure of the Period, rather than in the position of the words — e. g., the Climax, the Antithesis, the Isocolon, the Prosapodosis, and the Coinotes, arising from the connection of the Epibole and Epiphora. But not only does the Law of Vivacity exert its influence upon the structure of the Period, it also exerts it secondly, upon the position of the words. For since the greatest care must be taken that the thoughts do not flow into each other, so as to form one uniform mass, it is evident that those parti- cular words which express each particular thought most plainly, should be made prominent, and be distinguished from the others. From this ethical view of Prose, not only is the peculiar Emphasis laid upon the most important words — as the Substantive, Adjective, Verb — explained, but also the origin of the more exquisite figures of Speech — as Paranomasia, Para- diastole, Antanaclasis, Epanode, Diaphora, Homceoptoton, &c. 160 ELOdUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, The use of these figures in Poetry, is condemned of right, because in Poetry the essential thing is not the distinguish- ing of one thing above another, but the connecting of one thing with another. And if Poetry has appropriated one or another of these figures — as, e. g. 9 the Homceoptoton, from which Rhyme seems to have arisen — it has yet entirely altered it ; for in Prose, a proposition is individualized by the Homceoptoton ; in Poetry, the metrical lines are linked and united together by Rhyme. Finally, in the third place, the Law of Vivacity permits neither Metre, nor Rhyme, nor the numeration of syllables ; for through these, the outward form of presentation acquires a repose, and an evenness of proportion — it expresses a compla- cency — which, indeed, belongs necessarily to the finished un- folding of Poetical Ideas, but which must ever be foreign to the active process of the orator, which is full of Affection in itself, and seeks to awaken Affection in the hearer. Never- theless, since that which is peculiar in the Rhetorical thought seeks to express itself, not only in the structure of the Period, and the position of the words, but also in the relation of the long and short syllables ; since, in order to the more distinct separation of the thoughts, there must be the slower pace of some, ana 1 the more rapid flight of others, and this difference must be made perceptible to the mind through the ear, the Law of Vivacity requires a mingling of syllables, in respect to their quantity, suited to the existing thought, but going no further than to vary with each Period, and never occupying the mind at the expense of the thought* For if this were the case, the orator would betray a complacency which is pro- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 161 per in the Poet, but which is forbidden to him by the Law of Vivacity ; and, moreover, he would fail to reach the end at which he aims — the production of Affection in the hearer — if the hearer should come to be as much delighted by the musical enjoyment of the melody, as impressed by the force of the thought. 14 162 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE. CHAPTER IX. CONCLUSION. We have thus far endeavored to unfold and perfect our theory of the ethical nature of Eloquence, in three different ways ; by showing, first, that all of its essential Laws are of moral origin ; secondly, that a morally good Character, alone, imparts the inclination and the ability to follow these Laws ; thirdly, that the orator is sure of success, only in proportion as he strictly obeys these moral Laws, and puts away all refer- ences of a less pure nature. And as in running out these laws, we have arrived at the construction of Prose as a necessary form of presenting thought, we believe we may here lay down our pen, inasmuch as what has been said will be sufficient to enable him who has followed us thus far, to form a judgment respecting the cor- rectness of our hypothesis ; and it will not be difficult for him who falls in with it, to apply the principles we have laid down, to the subject of Declamation, and other secondary sub- jects connected with Eloquence, of which we have not treated. THE END. 3^77-5 LIBRARY CONGRESS I ■ 021 100 538 5^ ■Ml ^^H H