<-/. V 1 B 4 A ' « V : $'% > , ""-<- •'• : - ■ * ^U r ^ xV V s ,0° ■.. ,.-- -,■-', ^ v^ .--fc +J. ^ ' v* N x° °«* t "'. ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE; OB, OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF DR. FRANCIS THEREMIN, M BY WILLIAM G. T. SHEDD. AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. REVISED EDITION. BOSTON: DRAPER AND HALLIDAY. 90S. 68 AND 60 COBNHILL. 1867. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, BY W. F. DRAPER, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts. «3Wt Bertram Smith ELECTROTYPED AND PRIX TED JY W. F. DRAPER, ANDOVER, MASS. ADVERTISEMENT 'TO THE SECOND EDITION. The edition of this work published in 1850 has become exhausted, and the existing demand for it is such as to warrant its republication. The translator undertook the work primarily to supply a need which he felt for a text-book adapted to the more advanced class of students, and he has been encouraged to learn that other teachers have found the same adaptedness in it. The opportunity, afforded by a reprint, has been embraced, to attempt to explain and illustrate the leading position of the treatise, in an Introductory Essay, as well as to throw some more light upon the general subject of Rhetoric and Eloquence. The series of Questions, which has also been appended to this edition, will serve, it is hoped, to generalize the contents for the student, and thereby to assist him in getting possession of them. The work is again committed to the public, with the confident belief that its influence, wherever felt, will be truthful and salutary. CONTENTS * PAGE PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION, ........ 9 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY BY THE TRANSLATOR, .... 17 BOOK I. ON INVENTION. CHAPTER I. DESIGN AND USE OF THE PROPOSED INVESTIGATION, ... 61 CHAPTER II. ELOQUENCE IS NOT AN INTERMEDIATE BETWEEN POETRY AND PHILOSOPHY, 57 CHAPTER III. ELOQUENCE IS NEITHER POETRY NOR PHILOSOPHY, ... 60 1* VI ■ CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV. PAGE ELOQUENCE IS A VIRTUE, . . . . . . . . . .61 CHAPTER V. IDEAS, 72 CHAPTER VI. THE POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS FORM OF PRACTICAL IDEAS, . 76 CHAPTER VII. THE DIFFERENT SPECIES OF ELOQUENCE, . ... . .81 CHAPTER VIII. VIRTUE IS ALSO GOOD SENSE, 86 CHAPTER IX. THE SUBORDINATE IDEAS, OR CATEGORIES, . . . . . 91 CHAPTER X. THE CATEGORY, TRUTH, ... .93 CHAPTER XI. , THE RHETORICAL DEMONSTRATION OF TRUTH, 95 CONTENTS. VII CHAPTER XII. PAGE THE CATEGORIES, POSSIBILITY AND ACTUALITY, . . . . 105 CHAPTER XIII. THE PLAN AND DIVISION OF AN ORATION, . . . . . .109 CHAPTER XI Y. FIRST FEATURES TOWARDS A SKETCH OF THE ORATOR, . . 121 BOOK II. ON ELOCUTION. CHAPTER I. AFFECTION AND PASSION, . .127 CHAPTER II. THE DUTY OF THE ORATOR TO SPEAK WITH AFFECTION, AND TO AWAKEN AFFECTION, . 135 CHAPTER III. THE DIFFERENT KINDS OF AFFECTION, 141 APPENDIX- WIT, V . . •" , " '"'- Ü7 VIII CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV. PAGE THE MEANS OF EXCITING AFFECTION; OK, THE RHETORI- CAL PRESENTATION OF THOUGHT, . . . . . . .151 CHAPTER V. THE LAW OF ADAPTATION, 156 APPENDIX — TASTE, 176 CHAPTER VI. THE LAW OF CONSTANT PROGRESS, . .179 CHAPTER VII. THE LAW OF VIVACITY, 191 CHAPTER VIII. PROSE, . 200 CHAPTER IX. CONCLUSION, ............. 206 SUPPLEMENT, . . . . . . . 207 QUESTIONS, . . 215 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 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 foreign 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 disci- pline in this department of culture. For no production, espe- cially 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 individuality and nation- ality 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 in a foreign literature. Non-intercourse is as impolitic 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 coordinate branches of discipline, to which the mind of the student is subjected in the course of liberal education, seems to call for the infusion of an element which may be found in this treatise of Theremin. Rhetoric, in its best estate, is but the science of Form, or to use Milton's phrase, an " organic," t. e. 9 instrumental, Art. It does not propose to furnish the material X PREFACE. of knowledge, but only to put the material, when furnished, into as fine and perfect forms as possible. Owing partly to this in- trinsic nature of Rhetoric as an art, and partly perhaps to the excessively popular character which science and scientific state- ments have assumed in the present age, Rhetoric has become ex- tremely superficial in its character and influence, so that the term " rhetorical " has become the synonyme of shallow and showy. Dissevered from Logic, or the necessary laws of thought, it has become dissevered from the seat of life, and has degenerated into a mere collection of rules respecting the struc- ture of sentences and the garnish of expression.* Any treatise, therefore, of which the tendency is to restore the connection between thought and its expression, cannot but be beneficial in its influence upon both the theory and practice of Eloquence. Even if it were constructed upon a false fun- damental 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 influence upon the art itself and the student. It would, at least, direct attention to the fact, that an art like Rhetoric should be based upon some science, and that its rules and maxims, in order to be efficient and influential, 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 * Lord Bacon remarks that it was an error in the educational course of his time, "that scholars in universities come too soon and too unripe to logic and rhetoric, arts fitter for graduates than children and novices : for these two, rightly taken, are the gravest of sciences, being the art of arts ; the one for judgment, the other for ornament : and they be the rules and directions how to set forth and dispose matter, and therefore for minds empty and unfraught with matter, and which have not gathered that which Cicero calleth ' sylva ' and ' supellex,' stuff and variety, to begin with those arts (as if one should learn to weigh, or to measure, or to paint the wind,) doth work but this effect, that the wisdom of those arts, which is great and universal, is almost made contemptible, and is degenerated into childish sophistry and ridiculous affectation." — Advancement of Learning, Book f. PREFACE. XI 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 sub- stance, 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 minutiae ; but it begins with the Ideas which are conceived to underlie the whole subject, and to constitute the ground and soil from which the whole after-development and detail will naturally spring. It begins at the ; beginning, goes through the middle, and so arrives 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, it proceeds to the Form, which is to take shape and character, and all" its qualities, from that primi- tive material for whose sake alone it has any existence at all. " Well 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." * The whole tendency of such a theory of Rhetoric is to pro- duce, in practice, masculine and thoughtful discourse. The student, if we may use the term, is headed 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 highest 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 grandeur of treatment, which is absolutely beyond the reach of him who is anxious respecting the impres- sion he may make ; who, in short, is tormented by too much * Chaucer, Knightes Tale. XII PREFACE. consciousness of self, at a time when he should be absorbingly conscious of the theme. According to the theory here presented, the Oration, — mean- ing by this, every rounded and complete discourse, — is the evo- lution of an Idea, which is the germ and principle of the whole composition. Hence it is simple in its structure, and homogen- eous in its character ; 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 habituated to com- pose 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 the benefit which is to be derived from this habit and ability, for the practical pur- poses of Rhetoric, what a benefit is derived from it in respect to the private contemplations and enjoyment of the scholar ! Sup- posing he does not need this ability, because he is never called upon to speak or write to his fellow-men, (a supposition 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 essen- tial truth, and may, in its own reflections, follow the method and order of Reason ? Jn what a serene and constant illumination does that mind dwell, which is able in its meditaiions to find the fontal truth as it were by instinct, and to unfold 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. orna- ment. 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 * " Ob eamque causam eloqui copiose, modo prudenter, melius est, quam vel acutissime sine eloquentia cogitare : quod cogitatio in se ipsa vertitur, eloquentia complectitur eos, quibus cum communitate juncti sumus." — Cicero, De Officiis, Lib* I. cap. 44. PREFACE. XIII office-work of thinking to convert these Ideas into clear concep- tions ; to put these vast unlimited truths into definite and intelli- gible discourse ; in fine, in the strict meaning of the term, to develop 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 in- telligible discourser, 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 Eloquence is moral in essence ; that it has a moral origin, 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 dis- tinctly announced by the elder Cato, and mentioned with appro- bation 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 " Socrates dicere solebat, omnes, in eo, quod scirent, satis esse eloquentes." By this he could only mean, that the moral feeling and interest generated by clear knoiuledge of truth, is the ground of that methodical, earnest, and animating mental action which we denominate Eloquence, — ,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 * De Oratore, L, 14. XIV PREFACE. Buffon, " Le style — c'est 1 'homme," which meets with an equally decisive response within us, together with the views of Elo- quence 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 everywhere. Most certainly the tendency and influence of such a theory of Eloquence must be good and elevating. Setting 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 certainly a great point gained, if an art, so often supposed to be at furthest remove from earnestness, and seriousness, 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 re- flections, is really contributing to the moral culture and develop- ment 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 consubstantial 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 treatises upon Rhetoric is the absence of correct views of the principles of Art. Oratory is claimed, (though not by Theremin,) to be one of the Fine Arts ; and how, then, can a clue to its mystery and power be obtained without a philosophic knowledge of those laws and principles by which embodiment, whether in Nature or Art, is regulated and impelled ? We say embodiment whether in Nature or Art, because the method of each is essentially the same. In both, a creative Idea is the starting point and the guiding principle, and the movement PREFACE. XV 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 experi- ence, 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 Nature. Indeed, we demand that a work of Art have Nature in it, i. e., be original, fresh, living, glowing, breathing ; a demand that would be unreasonable if there were no likeness at bottom between Art and Nature. As Nature, ac- cording to Sir Thomas Brown, is the Art of God, so Art is man's Nature, and sustains the same relation to the Finite mind that creation does to the Infinite. By this is not meant, of course, that it sustains the same rela- tion materially, but only formally. The work of Art is the crea- tion of the finite imagination, in the sense that it is the em- bodiment and result of an Idea, a productive thought, which sprang from the innermost 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 — L 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 absolute and highest sense of creating something out of nothing, 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 patural and spon- taneous application, the world over. 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, con- structive, plastic. But how is such a Rhetoric possible, if the theory that is formed is not pnly not conformed to, but positively contradicts, the laws and principles pf what, after the remarks XVI PREFACE above made upon Nature and Art, may be denominated Univer- sal 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 ap- pealing with power to the imagination as well as the intellect. This treatise of Theremin, while it strictly distinguishes Elo- quence, 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 rig- orously, and have shown too much fear lest the high ethical character of Eloquence should be suffered to lose itself in the lower sphere of mere Art, he has by this very thing imparted to Eloquence a still higher character and a still more energetic power. For by thus insisting that, while the means employed by Eloquence may be aesthetic, and the form in which it appears artistic, the great end constantly aimed at must be moral, and only moral, the author has furnished a Rhetoric that is not only formative and plastic, but organißc, and has thus superin- duced life upon the lifeless. Art in this case passes over into the production of living realities ; the old fable of Pygmalion becomes actuality ; 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 purpose of fur- nishing a text-book, to be used in a free reproductive manner in giving instruction in the department 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. 24, 18^9, INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, BY THE TRANSLATOR. The proper product of Rhetoric is Eloquence, and the purpose of a rhetorical education is to produce an eloquent thinker, and an eloquent writer or speaker. So far as it comes short of this, therefore, Rhetoric comes short of its true end. Hence it becomes important to inquire, first of all, into the essential nature of Eloquence itself; and, particularly, to define it in such a manner as to detect all false products, and preclude all specious methods and models. For nothing exerts a more injurious influence upon the taste, the studies, and the mental habits of an educated man than a false idea of Eloquence. All educated men desire to be eloquent, and at times make greater or less effort to be so. An eloquent man is, universally, an ob- ject of admiration and of imitation. The idea of Eloquence is consequently one that exerts a highly formative and modifying influence upon both individual and national culture. When an educated man has been seized by this idea, when he has be- come possessed with the desire and the aim to influence public opinion by free and fluent speech, how wonderfully are all his thoughts, and feelings, and acquirements, pressed into the service of it. If he has the true idea, he almost invariably becomes elo- quent ; if he has the false idea, he invariably becomes over-orna- mented, and glittering, and degenerates into inflation, and bom- bast, — so energetic and influential is the idea itself, whether truly or falsely apprehended. It enters the mind with an inter- est and influence peculiar to itself, and works there with all the potency of a plastic principle. The thought of becoming a phi- r 18 'INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. losopher, or a poet, or an artist, or a man of science, when once formed, indeed exerts a controlling influence upon the whole in- tellectual life ; but the thought of becoming an eloquent man, a man who " wields at will the fierce democracie and shakes the arsenal," exerts an overmastering influence, so that the mind either becomes the most passionate of the passionate, or else the feeblest of the feeble, according to the truth or falsity of its idea of Eloquence, and its ideal of an Orator. I. In proceeding to discuss the true nature and essential prop- erties of Eloquence, it is deserving of notice, that nearly as many definitions have been given of Eloquence, as of Poetry, and so far as a perfectly exhaustive definition is concerned, with about the same success. Perhaps no one definition that shall include all the essential qualities of what are strictly vital products of the human mind can be given. We must be content to reach the inward nature of Poetry, of Art, and of Eloquence, by approxi- mations ; by several definitions, each of which contemplates some particular aspect of the subject, and specifies some peculiar characteristic omitted by the others. The more mechanical and common products of the human understanding may often be clearly comprehended in a single conception, and fully defined in one statement ; but its rarer, richer, and more living productions, such as Poetry and Eloquence, being more mysterious in their origin, are more difficult of comprehension, and consequently of definition. We may lay it down as a general rule, that in pro- portion as a product takes its origin in the more spontaneous, im- pulsive, and original agencies of the mind ; in proportion as it is less the work of mere experience, and trial, like a product of use- ful art, or of mere memory and classification, like a manual of science ; in proportion as its nature is living, and its origin is fresh, will it be more difficult to bring it within the limits of a concise and full definition. Like the definition of Life itself, the definition of Poetry, and Art, and Eloquence, must be an approx- imation only. Socrates, according to Cicero,* was wont to say that all men * De Oratore, I. 14. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 19 speak eloquently when they have a thorough knowledge of their subject, and Cicero coincided with him in the affirmation. The duty and office of Rhetoric, and hence of Eloquence, according to Bacon,* is to apply reason to imagination for the better moving of the will. Style, says Buffon, — by which he means the style of Eloquence, — is the man himself; a definition corresponding with the remark of Pascal, that a simple and natural style, the eloquence of nature, enchants us with reason ; for while we are looking out for an author we find a man. Eloquence, says D'Alembert,! is the ability to cause a sentiment, with which the mind is deeply penetrated, to pass with rapidity into the souls of others, and imprint itself there with force and energy. Elo- quence, says Campbell,! adopting the definition of Quintilian, is that art or talent by which the discourse is adapted to its end, and the end of discourse is to move the will If we examine these definitions we shall find that they all pre- suppose a common nature and properties in Eloquence, and are, all of them, approximate definitions of it. Neither of them is sufficient of itself to exhaust the subject, — perhaps all of them together are insufficient, — but they all look one way, and give the mind of the inquirer one general direction. They all teach or imply, that truth is the substance, and principle, of all true Eloquence, — truth clearly perceived, deeply felt, and distinctly expressed. Men are eloquent in proportion as they thoroughly know their subject, say Socrates and Cicero. Eloquence is truth all aglow and practically effective in a human soul, it is reason in the forms of the imagination in order to influence the will, says Bacon. It is the cooperation of the understanding with the im- agination and the passions, in order to carry the will, say Quin- tilian and Campbell. Eloquence is truth felt and transferred to others, it is the transfer of the orator's consciousness into the auditor's consciousness, says D'Alembert. All these definitions teach that plain verity is the substance of * Advancement of Learning, Book II. t Keflections sur Telocution oratoire. Oeuvres, IV. 275. • t Philosophy of Rhetoric, Book I. Chap. I. 20 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Eloquence, and that through the transformation which it under- goes by passing through an earnest and eloquent mind, its final effect is to carry the whole man, head, heart and will, along with it. This carriage of men's minds, this mental movement in speaker and hearers, this streaming flow of thought and feeling to an outward end, seems to be inseparably connected, in all these definitions, with Eloquence as different from other forms of dis- course. While in the essay, the historical narrative, or the phi- losophical disquisition, the thought more or less moves in a circle, returning back upon itself, and thus forming a wider expanse, in the oration, the thought is ever rushing onward in a deep nar- row channel, like a river to the main. We are speaking, of course, of an ideal or perfect oration ; and bearing this in mind, we may say that in proportion as the mind of the orator is impro- gressive in its action, it ceases to be eloquent in its action and in- fluence. A mind that is continually eddying ; that is inclined to dwell long, either upon a particular thought, or upon the expres- sion of it, either upon a bright idea, or a beautiful figure ; must break up this habit, and overcome this disposition, before it can create that strong rushing current, that overwhelming, overbearing torrent in a discourse, which under the name of Scivottjs the Greeks regarded as the height of Eloquence. By this term, which was applied particularly to the eloquence of Demosthenes, the Greeks intended to denote that overpowering vehemence, in the exercise of the mental powers, which results from a clear con- sciousness of the truth and the right, united with a glowing fiery interest for it. This vehemence of soul, this onward sweeping rush in a channel which the mind has worn into a subject, and which it is continually wearing deeper, is preclusive of all retro- grade movements, and of all stationary attitudes. Even if the subject calls in a great amount of argumentative or explanatory matter, this current draws it all into its own volume, so that it accelerates rather than impedes its mighty flow. " In his oration for the crown," remarks one,* " Demosthenes must have had as * Marsh's Remains ; Tract on Eloquence. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 21 cumbrous a satchel, as any bearer of the green bag in our courts of law. He brings forward a great mass of testimonies, written and oral laws of Athens, decrees of foreign towns and of the Amphictyonic council, and records of history, all exhibited and discussed with the utmost force and clearness. But through the whole process, there is an under-current and moving power of passion and eloquence that carries us forward to a final and una- voidable result. It is as though we were embarked upon a mighty river. All is animation and energy around, and we gaze with a momentary reverie upon the deep and transparent waters beneath. But even while we admire, the current grows deeper and deeper, and we are unconsciously hurried onward with in- creasing and irresistible power." An eloquent mind, then, is a mind under motion. It is a mind moving forward, under the influence of clear knowledge and deep feeling, with constantly accelerated motion, and constantly increasing momentum, to a final end, which is always a practical one. Eloquence itself, then, is thought with an impulse in it, thought with a drift and rush in it. Eloquence is, as we instinct- ively denominate it, a ßood. * Without dwelling longer upon these definitions, and others that have been given of Eloquence, we proceed now to a considera- tion of that particular one, upon which Theremin founds his rhetorical system. Eloquence, says Theremin, is a Virtue. This definition differs from the others that have been quoted, * " Hazlitt, " says De Quincy, " was not eloquent, because he was discon- tinuous. No man can be eloquent whose thoughts are abrupt, insulated, and (to borrow an impressive word from Coleridge) non-sequacious. Eloquence resides not in separate or fractional ideas, but in the relation of manifold idti:s, and in the mode of their evolution from each other. It is not indeed enough that the ideas should be many, and their relations coherent j the main condition lies in the key of the evolution, in the law of the succession. The elements are nothing without the atmosphere that moulds and the dy- namic forces that combine. Now, Hazlitt 's brilliancy is seen chiefly in separate splinterings of phrase or image which throw upon the eye a vitreous scintillation for a moment, but spread no deep suffusions of color, and distri- bute no masses of mighty shadow. A flash, a solitary flash, and all is gone." 22 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. more in appearance than in reality. It does not, as its author remarks, differ essentially from the definition given by the elder Cato, and handed down to us with approbation by Quintilian ; and it coincides with the general doctrine taught by the more pro- found writers upon Eloquence, in all ages, — all of whom have recognized the moral element as the essential one in this species of intellectual productions. Stated, however, in this brief and striking form, Eloquence seems to become identical with Morality, and the author in one place actually speaks of Rhetoric as a part of Morals. * By this, however, it is conceived he did not mean to imply that Eloquence is merely and simply a moral vir- tue, and is therefore sufficiently defined when it is put into the list of virtues, along with temperance, or honesty, or veracity. Perhaps the real meaning of the author would be more precisely expressed, by saying that Eloquence is an intellectual Virtue. It has a common origin with the moral virtues, in the resolute action of the moral force or character of the man, and, so far as the point of ultimate origin is concerned, may therefore be de- nominated virtuous, or of the nature of virtue. The theory of Theremin is, that all true Eloquence springs ultimately from in- tegrity and strength of character; that the principle and the power by which the several faculties of the mind concerned in the production of Eloquence are actuated and guided is a volun- tary principle and power, and hence that the product, in its ulti- mate and essential nature, must be moral. Let us explain in de- tail, that the theory may be understood. In the production of an eloquent oration, the understanding, the imagination, and the feelings, are employed. By the first mentioned faculty, truth simple and abstract is presented to the understanding of the hearer. By the second, this same truth is taken out of this ab- stract and intellectual form, and put into an imaginative form for the imagination of the hearer. And by the feelings, it is again transmuted in order to awaken and stir emotion in the hearts of others. Now, it is plain that the excellence of the oration de- * Book I., Chap, xiv. ... . INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 23 pends upon the presence in it, of some power or principle that shall swallow up into the unity of its own life all these processes of the understanding, imagination, and feelings, and thereby be- come that vehement and terrible energy, which we have seen, according to the Greek definition, is the reality and vitality of Eloquence. The unity of the oration, moreover, depends upon the proportionate and harmonious exercise of these several facul- ties. Any excess in the functions of the understanding, e. g., will be to the injury of those of the imagination and the feelings. The oration, in this case, must either lose its unity, or else give up its oratorical character and pretensions, and be converted into a philosophic essay. And the same may be said [mutatis mu- tandis) , in case of an excessive action of either of the remaining two faculties concerned in the production of Eloquence. Now, that power by which each of these faculties is to be guided and governed, so that there shall be a just proportion and true harmony in their co- working, is the will of the orator. He is to repress an undue tendency to ratiocination, by moral deter- mination. He is to repress an undue poetic tendency, by moral determination. He is to repress an undue pathetic tendency, by moral determination. And let it not be thought that only a slight and feeble exercise of the self-controlling power is needed in the origination of this so-styled Virtue of Eloquence ; that but little moral energy and stern force of character is required in order to the highest eloquence. How often does it happen that the Ora- tion degenerates (for in this reference it is degeneration) into the abstract Essay, or the over-ornamented Prose-Poem, solely be- cause there was not enough of moral strength, not enough of will, in the orator, to compel all his acquisitions, and all his ten- dencies, into subservience of that practical end, the actuation of his hearers, which is the ultimate end of Eloquence. Often, as much self-control is needed to mortify a strong logical propensity, in order that it may not damage or destroy a rhetorical pro- cess, as is needed in order to mortify a lust of the flesh. And still more often, as much force of character is needed to restrain a lux- uriant imagination, in order that it may not clog and stop the on- 24 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. ward movement of the oration by excessive illustration and orna- ment, as is needed in order to restrain an animal passion. In short, that vanity, that self-feeling, which would draw off the ora- tor from the practical end of his discourse to the undue display of his logic, if his mind is predominantly philosophic, or to an undue employment of the poetic element, if his nature is pre- dominantly imaginative, requires for its conquest and extirpation, precisely the same kind of moral force, force of will, that is needed in the suppression of vice, or in the formation of any of the strictly so-called virtues. Now, it is in this reference that Eloquence is styled a Virtue. So far as the principle from which it proceeds, and the impulse by which it is impelled, are concerned, Eloquence is Ethical, rather than Philosophic, or Aesthetic. It is the position of Theremin, that Eloquence is more strictly of the nature of Virtue, than of the nature of Science, or of the nature of Fine Art Its essential quality and properties, he contends, are more properly ethical than scientific or artistic. Neither a scientific nor an artis- tic talent can become the living fountain of Eloquence. Only a moral force can. Although both a philosophic and an artistic pro- cess properly and necessarily enter into that complex mental ac- tion of which Eloquence is the product, yet neither of them is the fundamental process. We must look for this in the moral process which springs out of the character of the orator ; which involves his earnestness, his sincerity, his honesty of conviction, his con- sciousness of the truth, and his love for it. These moral elements must first exist, or there can be no Eloquence. In the same sense, then, that the orator, according to Cato and Quintilian, is a good man, is Eloquence a Virtue. Not that every good man is eloquent, or that every virtue is ipso facto Eloquence (though we often say of the Virtues, as they shine out in human character, that they are eloquent) ; but no man is eloquent who is destitute of moral force of character, and no discourse is eloquent that is not pervaded with a moral earnestness that is higher than any mere scientific talent or aesthetic feeling. The truth which there is in Theremin's definition may be INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 25 seen, again, by considering the difference between an Oration and a product of Fine Art. According to the theory of Theremin Eloquence is not strictly a Fine Art. It is no more one of the Fine Arts because it contains an aesthetic element, than it is one of the Sciences because it contains a philosophic element. It is taken* out of the department of mere and pure Art, by the practical and outward end which it has in view. For if there is any- thing settled in the theory of Art, it is, that an aesthetic product has no practical end out of itself. Art, as such, has no utility, nor morality. Its productions exist for themselves, and not for any object other than themselves. We must not go beyond them, and look for a practical or beneficial influence exerted by them upon the minds of men, in order to decide whether they are excellent in their kind or not. Hence Art cannot become Religion, or even Morality. If a painting or a sculpture is beautiful, we cannot deny it artistic excellence. Whether it is useful, or whether it is moral, are questions for Philosophy and Religion, but not for Art. The Artist, unlike the Philanthropist, or the Orator, works for his own gratification solely. His work has no end but the embodiment of a beautiful idea. As an Artist merely, he is indifferent to the practical effects that may result. The work of Art is addressed solely to the aesthetic sense. If it were addressed to the cognitive powers, solely, it would be a scientific work. If it were addressed to the' moral or religious nature, solely, it would be a religious work. It is true, indeed, that a production of Fine Art may make a moral impression, and as matter of fact the highest works in this department invariably do. It is true that the Apollo may elevate the soul of the beholder, and the Madonna may soften and humanize it, but neither of them, as works of Art, owed their origin to any such practical and moral aim. Fine Art is its own end. It is self-sufficing, self-included, and irreferent. If it has ever contributed to the intellectual or moral improvement of man, this was a happy accident, and not a predetermined and foreseen result. But that Morality, which thus stands in no inward and neces- 3 26 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. sary connection with Art, constitutes the very essential principle of Eloquence. The Oration, unlike a painting or a statue, aims to exert a moral influence upon a moral agent. It seeks to work a change, more or less deep and extensive, in the state of man's active powers, employing his cognitive and imaginative faculties as mere means and media. The Orator cannot, like the Artist, isolate himself from all outward circumstances, and find the goal of his efforts in the serene and complacent embodi- ment of his idea in a form of Beauty, without troubling himself in the least about the influence he may exert. The Orator is a man of moral influence, and of moral impression, upon moral agents, or he is nothing. If, then, the term Virtue denotes, generally, a product of the will, and not of the intellect merely, or the imagination merely, — is not Eloquence a Virtue ? If that agency of the soul be virtuous, or of the nature of Virtue, which has an outward aim, — the aim, \dz., to exert a legitimate influ- ence upon the character and actions of men, — is not Eloquence a Virtue ? Is not this earnest, moral, and practical product of the human mind much more properly denominated a Virtue than an Art? To place the definition given by Theremin in another aspect, we may say that Eloquence is an intellectual Virtue. It is the action of the understanding and imagination, when these are under the sway of the moral will. When the understanding merely follows its own structure and laws ; when its action is unmodified by any reference to an auditor, or to an outward impression upon other minds ; the product is Logic, and this action of the understanding is scientific. When the imagination merely follows its own nature and law, the product is Poetry, or some other work of Fine Art, and this action of the mind is aesthetic. In both of these instances the mental faculty is left to its own guidance and impulse. The will exercises no modify- ing influence in either case, and consequently there is no moral element, nothing virtuous or of the nature of Virtue, in these species of intellectual activity. It is true that the subject matter of both Philosophy and Art may be moral, but the mental INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 27 process itself cannot be so characterized. It is a purely spon- taneous process, not deriving its quality in the least from the voluntary power, from the character of the individual, or even being in the least modified by it. The process in the one ease is purely logical or scientific, and in the other purely artistic. But Eloquence has a different origin from either Science or Art. It results, not from the isolated action of a particular faculty, like the understanding, or the imagination, but from the interpen- etration and cooperation of all the mental powers, under the sway and actuation of the voluntary force. The degree in which each faculty shall work, as we have already remarked, is fixed by the determination of the orator, and the acme of Eloquence is seen in the rush, in one resistless volume, of all the cognitive, imagin- ative, and pathetic powers in the unity of the moral will. The combined action of these powers, in this instance, unlike their isolated action in the production of the philosophic Essay, or the Poem, is moral, and therefore of the nature of virtue. The will interpenetrates the logical and imaginative processes in the mind of the orator, and thus renders them ethical. Eloquence in this aspect, is seen to be the virtuous action of the human intellect, as distinguished from that virtuous action of the isolated human will, to which the term " virtue " is more strictly and commonly applied. There is voluntary action in both cases, and hence the epithet " virtuous " belongs to both ; but in the case of a virtue, commonly so called, the action is confined to the will itself, while in the case of Eloquence it is action of the will in and by the powers of understanding, imagination, and feeling. The virtue of patience, e. g., is the product of the isolated action of the will, lust as logic is the product of the isolated action of the understanding. Patience is the product of the will operating upon itself, subdu- ing its own restiveness, and therefore is simply a particular habit jf the will. But the virtue of Eloquence is the product of the will as it operates upon, and in, other mental faculties, for the purpose of exerting an influence upon the will of others. Elo- quence is reason and imagination and feeling wrought into a 28 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. living synthesis by the vitality of a will, — by the force of a strong, deep, and earnest character. There is less difficulty, therefore, in understanding this defini- tion of Theremin, and in adopting it, if we do not take the term " virtue " in its more limited and common signification, but in its widest sense, as denoting a product into which the moral strength of the individual, his force of character, enters as the fundamental quality. And such we suppose to be the essential nature of Eloquence. If we are required to locate it, we think there are fewer objections to placing it within the province of practical Ethics, than in that of abstract Science, or in that of aesthetic Art. As Theremin affirms, that theory will be most successful, will explain most phenomena and exert the most beneficial influence upon the student, which assumes that the practical and moral element in Eloquence is the fundamental and denominating one, and that the philosophic and aesthetic elements are subsidiary to this. We know that the Ancients, from whom it is not generally safe to differ upon subjects like the one which we are considering, regarded Eloquence as one of the Fine Arts, and assigned it a place in the list along with Poetry, and Painting, and Sculpture ; and the Modern world has generally acquiesced in their classification. And yet the rhetorical treatises of Aristotle, of Longinus, of Cicero, and of Quintilian, contain much that is irreconcilable with this theory. Unconsciously, the doctrine that Eloquence is at bottom neither speculatively philosophic, nor imaginatively aesthetic, but prac- tically moral, creeps into these treatises, and exerts a modifying influence throughout. And it is the merit of Theremin, as it seems to us, that he has systematized this ethical view of Elo- quence, — that he has organized these materials scattered here and there through all the best treatises on the subject, and wrought them into the unity of a consistent theory. Instead of defining Eloquence to be a Fine Art, and then, under the instinct and impulse of good sense and sound feeling, beating off and away from the definition, until it is perfectly apparent that there has been a mistake in the outset, and that Eloquence has received INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 29 a wrong location, this author affirms distinctly that it is not a Fine Art, but that it is (for want of a better term) a Virtue. Starting with this position as the basis of his theory, he is not troubled, as were the ancient Rhetoricians, by a conflict between his theory and its detailed unfolding and application. He is not compelled to those statements respecting the necessity of charac- ter, of integrity and sincerity and earnestness, in the orator, the necessity of subjecting everything in the oration to a practi- cal outward end, and of subordinating Philosophy and Art them- selves to the moral purposes of Eloquence, which are irreconcil- able with the definition that makes Eloquence a Fine Art. On the contrary, these statements which suggest themselves so unconsciously, and spontaneously, as actually to override the false theory that has been assumed by the Rhetorician, are merely corroborations of the ethical theory of Eloquence. As they grow out of it, so they return back into it ; like vigorous shoots, which by inarching are made to contribute to the vigor and strength of the parent stock. The truthfulness of the ethical theory of Eloquence is still far- ther evinced, and illustrated, by a consideration of its influence upon the Orator. Here its excellence and value appear in plain view. Here is the place of its triumph. For even if an oppo- nent should be able to make a stand, while discussing the nature of the theory itself, and to raise objections that are forcible, and difficult to remove, yet when its practical application, and practi- cal influence, comes into consideration, the defender of the theory may speak with boldness and confidence. He really has the en- tire history of the department in his favor. All those forcible and impressive statements, in Ancient and Modern treatises upon Rhetoric, which lay emphasis upon the moral elements in Elo- quence, and in the Orator himself, — statements which fall glow- ing from the mind of the theorist, when, having for a moment left his speculative theory behind him, he speaks more from the common feeling, and the common sentiment, of mankind at large upon this subject, — all such statements, we say, come thronging in upon the mind, when it is considering the practical influence of 3* 30 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. the theory in question. The advocate of the ethical theory feels that all these statements legitimately belong to Mm, and to him alone ; that they are but the practical and informal enuncia- tion of his own speculative and formal theory. When he hears Quintilian define the Orator to be fi an upright man who under- stands speaking," he thinks he hears a concrete annunciation of the abstract position that " Eloquence is a Virtue," and believes that, in the establishment of his theory, he has only applied an affirma- tion to Oratory itself, which long ago was applied to the Orator. Supported thus, as he is, by the spontaneous and unbiassed opin- ions of theorizers themselves, he is the more confident in his belief that the actual application of the ethical theory of Elo- quence will only serve to verify it, and its practical influence to recommend it, in the very highest degree. is The influence of the ethical theory of Eloquence is most excellent, in the first place, upon the studies of the Orator. It is the natural tendency of that theory of Eloquence which defines it to be a Fine Art strictly, to isolate Oratory from the real sciences, and the solid acquirements of the orator. The eye is too intently fixed upon Form, and the secondary properties of dis- course, because it is assumed that the ultimate end of Eloquence, like that of any other Fine Art, is Beauty. The studies of the Orator, consequently, will take their main direction from this theory, and he will bestow undue attention upon those depart- ments of human knowledge, and those species of literature, which have more affinity with the idea of the Beautiful, than with the ideas of the True and the Good. These higher ideas will be made to take a secondary place in his mind, and his cul- ture will be characterized more and more by superficiality, and lack of vigorous strength. He will become more and more in- terested in works of Art, and the lighter forms of Literature, and less and less interested in Science, Philosophy, and Theology. But the natural tendency of that theory of Eloquence which regards it as essentially moral rather than aesthetic, which sets up for it an outward and practical end, and does not for an instant allow it an artistic indifference in respect to an outward and prac- INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 31 tical impression, which connects Eloquence far more with the ideas of the True and the Good than with the idea of the Beauti- ful, — the natural tendency, and strong direct influence, of such a theory of Eloquence is to promote the graver and higher studies in the Orator. The more profound and central powers of the mind will be continually exercised, and thus the foundation for a powerful and impressive mental activity will be laid. Such an Orator, like Pericles of old, will study and meditate upon the dark problems of philosophy and religion, and while, like the patron of Phidias and the decorator of Athens, he will not by any means be indifferent to Beauty and to Art in their proper place, he will yet derive that commanding and overwhelming eloquence, that Olympian power attributed to the great Grecian, from these loftier themes, these more profound departments of human inquiry and effort. * 2. Again, the influence of that theory of Eloquence which re- gards it as ethical, rather than either scientific or aesthetic, is most excellent, in respect to the models of the Orator. The general influence of the ethical theory of Eloquence upon the taste is to render it strict and pure. The Orator whose mind has been moulded by it, naturally selects models from the very highest range of Oratory, and thereby feels the very choicest in- fluence of the department. His models, consequently, are few in number, but they are such as can never be outgrown and left behind in his onward progress. A single model like Demosthenes contains, for the mind that is prepared for it by a strict and high theory of Eloquence, more educational power than myriads of inferior models. Such a model is a standard and permanent one. ^ Soc. Kivdvvevet, do apicrre, clkotoos 6 H€piKX?]S ttoVtcoj/ reXecoraros els tt\v pt)TopLK7]u yeveabai. Phaed. Ti 5?j ; Soc. riacrcu ocrai fieydXai t&v t^x^oou, irpo(T^€OVT(xt aSoXecrx'ias koI fxercoopoXoylas ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, moral attributes alone do not suffice for the manage- ment of these Categories, but that philosophic culture, and a great compass of solid knowledge, is requisite. If it is asked by what right, then, we bring these Catego- ries 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 rela- tion to the Categories, Truth, Possibility, and Actuality, are removed; and this work, since it is under the guid- ance 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 obliged to attain them, since they are the neces- sary means, in order to the execution of a moral under- taking. The orator, even if he acquires philosophic culture and historical knowledge, to the full extent per- mitted and required by the highest" ethi co-rhetorical prin- ciples, does not thereby become a philosopher or a histo- rian, but must ever be regarded as one whose sphere is action, and who seeks to exert an influence externally. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 93 CHAPTER X. THE CATEGORY, TRUTH. If we should make Truth, i. e., the exhibition of the es- sential nature of a thing, the ultimate end in Eloquence, Eloquence would thereby become entirely identical with Philosophy. 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 affinity with Philosophy is ex- plained. 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 im- pulse from which it originates and the moral design for which it is done, are plainly to be seen. Then this impulse itself and this design will set the bounds within which the Rhetorical presentation of Truth must be kept, and by which it is distinguished from the Philo- sophical, which aims at the mere development of Ideas without reference to anything farther. 94 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, The exhibition of Truth is an object of prime impor- tance in sacred Eloquence, and is one of the characteris- tics 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 development of a subject, and the mere informing of the mind. The problem of the sacred orator, on the contrary, is to conduct man to eter- nal 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. Reflections 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 entirely different from the Philosophical ; for, in Philoso- phy, 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 per- spective, for it, but it . presents a perfect form to the be- holder wherever he stands. In Eloquence, on the con- trary, Truth appears only in a picturesque 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, it also bids him to forget and sacrifice all the sensible, pro- found, and excellent thought he may have upon a topic, if it is not indispensably necessary to the attainment of his end. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIG RHETORIC. 95 CHAPTER XL THE RHETORICAL DEMONSTRATION OF TRUTH. Two points, therefore, have been fixed with respect to Philosophizing in Eloquence : first, that some exhibition of political, ethical, and religious Truth is necessary in Eloquence ; second, that this exhibition cannot be made with the completeness of Philosophy. From this it fol- lows, further, that the strict demonstration of a proposi- tion, — L e., 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 dif- ficult question : How is Truth to be established in Elo- quence, if it is not allowable to demonstrate it Philoso- phically ? In answer, it is to be noted in the first place, that there are many truths which do not need such a demon- stration, and to which the orator can gain the assent of all hearers by a plain explication, by a happy illustra- tion, by a fitting application to a circumstance in plain view. If this is not possible, then doubt respecting any par- ticular truth, since it cannot be removed by means of a demonstration, must be removed by means of Authority ; that is, the Authority of the hearer himself or the Au- * " To demand demonstrations from an orator, would be very much like allowing a mathematician to employ persuasion." Aristotle's Ethics, Book I. c. 3.— Tr. 96 thority of another. And this latter, again, is either human or divine. 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 phi- losophical 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 possi- ble must enter into them. Herein, I believe, partly con- sists the popularizing power so highly praised, and always required, in the orator. I am not afraid that the orator, in thus constantly referring to the innate convic- tions of his hearers, will find that which is false and degrading. It would indeed be degrading to proceed from an Ideal which the orator himself regards as ab- surd, 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 characteristic of the human understanding that the truth can never utterly die out of it, but that a portion 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, morever, 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 development 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 OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 97 last, because, by joining on upon his own inward con- viction, I can with less difficulty gain him over to a salu- tary 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 reprehensible self-seeking. And the evidence that it is contrary to morality, is found in the very fact, that it defeats his undertaking. 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 there- fore, of oratorical discourse, is Popularity^ using the term in its highest sense ; and the orator is to join on upon the truth as it exists among the mass of the people, and to esteem the general 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 among the Ideas of the hearer which the orator can employ as the basis of his argumentation, then, since a scientific investiga- tion is entirely forbidden him, he must betake himself to human or divine Authority. And, indeed, nothing is more frequent than the employment 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 obtain 98 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, 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 acknowledged 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 Eloquence 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 happiness, and as motives to sancti- fication. 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 scan- tily 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 impor- tance, and which lie entirely beyond the ordinary field of view. They need, therefore, 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 destitute of a positive Revelation, not even a purely moral Elo- quence could be developed along with political Elo- quence, notwithstanding the high degree of excellence which characterizes their ethical systems, and that a re- ligio-moral Eloquence did not appear until Christianity appeared. This species of Eloquence rises and sets OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 99 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 lose in power and dignity. Let one imagine to himself a pulpit orator endowed with the finest talents, but who places his own individual reason not beneath, but above Revelation, and who, consequently, in deter- mining the relations which God sustains to man, and which men should sustain to each other, can appeal to no higher divine Authority. 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 religious and ethical systems. Now, passing over the objection to such an undertaking, that it is ordinarily not suited to the aver- age 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 improve- ment of the heart and life of the hearer, and not scien- tific culture, was the design 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 practical Ideas of the hearer. He will, perhaps, attempt to do this in the con- clusion ; 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 firm and unshaken confidence in the religious and practical views which he derives from a human system, 100 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, 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 sceptical respecting a Revelatiotij a certain embarrassment, scarcely perceived by them- selves, which will betray itself in their presentation of truth, now by a cold, indifferent tone, now by unnatural effort and distorted zeal ; and thus the truths presented 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 sus- tains to his hearer, there is something contrary to up- rightness in such a way of thinking ; and this not merely because he is acting contrary to the designs of the State and the Church, who have appointed him to proclaim, not his own individual and human opinions, but divine truth, — although this seems to me to be a very well-founded scruple, — but principally because his office invests him with a dignity and respect which must appear as unwarrantable assumption 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 Authority, in order to do this. But it is difficult to understand how a man, with no basis but his own strength alone and not regarding himself as the ambas- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 101 sador of a higher being, 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 retributions of a future world, and now, to hold them back. He can acquire the right to do this only through a wisdom and virtue 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 appearing in public. Moreover, he sees among his hearers persons who are his equals in moral and scientific culture, or, it may be, his superiors. Feel- ing as if, 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 pathetic, 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 persons 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 de- prived of power and usefulness by his scepticism. Let one, on the contrary, imagine to himself a sacred orator of less talent, but who, to a sincere will to do good, joins an unshaken belief in the truths of the Christian religion ; and let him see what a higher eleva- tion and sweep his discourses will receive from this single circumstance. While he derives the sublimest truths from the Holy Scriptures, where they are given to * Un clerc mondain on irreligieux, s'il monte en chaire, est declamateur. — La Bruydre. 9* 102 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, him in the clearest, most popular form, he is, at the same time, through the divine Authority of the Bible, raised above all prolix developments and arguments, and with- out 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 be- lieves, 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 instruc- tion, 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 Virtue and Happiness through the knowledge of the truth, is to be attained only through his belief in Revelation ; and since without this, the relation which he sustains to his hearers has not even a moral validity, it is plain that belief in Revelation in his case must not only be regarded as a religious character- istic, but as a moral excellence also, and should be strictly required in him. It is in this connection the more mournful to notice, that so many, from a ground- less fear of giving displeasure 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, usefulness, and conse- quently in the end of the approbation of the public also. To him who is animated by the lofty desire of rival- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC 103 ling the political Eloquence of the Greeks, and of speak- ing from the pulpit with Demosthenean power, I would say " Science, Learning, Style, Delivery, these all ren- der easier the practice of Eloquence, but do not make the orator. Demosthenes became an orator through the greatness and solidity of his character, and these quali- ties are indispensable to you, too, in order to the attain- ment 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 dam- nation to your brethren, who are not worse than your- self? This difficulty you will feel; you will not ven- ture to speak to them with power; you will be com- pelled to content yourself with exciting 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 organ of a higher Being, and you are all power and all courage. Faith plants you firm and sure ; your teach- ing is no longer that of the Pharisees, unmeaning sound, and useless hair-splitting ; you teach with power, like Jesus himself, for he spake the words of His Father, and you speak His. Appropriate each and every one of His words, as well as those which His Spirit gave to Hi's Apostles; but take them in the very sense in which they take them. You do not believe it now, but your own experience will soon teach you, that in the doc- trines of our religion lies hidden all the power of sacred Eloquence." 104 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, 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 Eloquence, as by the ordinary way of adversity and suffering ? OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 105 CHAPTER XII. m THE CATEGORIES, POSSIBILITY AND ACTUALITY. As the higher Rhetorical Ideas lead the orator to the Category Truth, u e., to the exhibition of the nature of a thing, they also frequently demand the proof of the possibility and actual existence of a thing. And hence, in addition to Truth, Possibility and Actuality come into view as subordinate Rhetorical Ideas, or Categories. The Idea of Possibility is employed in a special man- ner 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 cour- age of the hearer often falls on reflecting how difficult the undertaking is, and his indolence 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 proposition. 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 action. 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 practicability of his proposition, and the Possibility of success. We see what an amount of solid knowl- edge is requisite in the orator, how he must have 106 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, thoroughly examined all the relations of the State, and have calculated all its resources, in order to acquit him- self well in respect to this point. It does not belong to my plan to mention all the cases which the Idea of Pos- sibility includes ; and I content myself with remarking, in accordance with my main design, that this Idea, how- ever 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 Possi- bility 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 con- dition 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 relig- ious 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 descend suddenly to the minutest detail of human life, without thereby OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 107 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 respecting 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 cul- tivated 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 narrative-statement tends. Hence no objection against the ethical principle laid down by us as the foundation of Eloquence, can b.e brought from the fact that the historical element pre- dominates in this species of oration ; for the oration, be- fore 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 Actu- ality 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 demonstration, but by means of facts; as, e. g\, the love of God, by the sacrifice of His Son, immortality, by the resurrection of Christ. If these facta 108 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, are doubted, they must be shown to be actual by means of a historical examination of witnesses. Such investi- gations 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 pas- sages, whether in political or sacred oratory, in which the quality of a person, or a thing, is described, in order to apply to it one of the higher Ideas. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 109 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 Elo- quence, and found the materiel on which it labors. By contemplating, therefore, these Ideas in their first move- ment, we also become acquainted with the Form, in its most general features, which the Rhetorical matSriel as- sumes. This is the doctrine of the Plan and Division of an oration, respecting which, ordinarily, 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 ; and since, conse- quently, 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, tuhat is to be divided. Let us, therefore, imagine to ourselves a man who pos- sesses the ability to bring out ethical Ideas into his con- sciousness, in great power and vitality, and who is ani- mated with the desire to represent these Ideas in actual life, or rather to mould the Actual into conformity with 10 110 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, these Ideas. Such an one can employ, for this purpose, no other means than the Ideas themselves, and their ex- pression in language ; and he knows that his undertaking will succeed only in case he is not subservient to the passions of his hearer, but rather subjects himself 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 na- ture, 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 particular 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 presupposes, desires to fulfil the Law of God, to raise himself to Like- ness with Him, and to become capable of Eternal Bless- edness. That these Ideas are leading Ideas in each and every hearer, the orator presupposes ; but even if he is mistaken, 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 presupposi- tion 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 adapted to his purpose, either to refer the particular Idea of his oration to one only of the above-mentioned Ideas, be it one of the higher or subordi- nate, or else to connect it with several of them. The OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. Ill orations constructed in the former way, I would denomi- ., nate simple ; those in the latter, complex. In the simple oration, Happiness, or Virtue, or Duty, is the predominat- ing Idea ; or else Truth, or Possibility, or Actuality, shaped and moulded by one of these former. In the com- plex 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 natu- ral beginning, by specifying his general design, and des- ignating the Ideas or Categories, whether one or more, to' which he intends to refer. This, and nothing more than this, is the Exordium. Its distinguishing character- istics 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 honorable weapons, and the advantage is always on the side of the vanquished. Since, among the Ancients, the subject upon which the orator 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 cir- cumstances, or to remove certain prejudices respecting himself personally, which might hinder his success. This advantage, arising from the hearer's being acquainted with the subject, and from a set occasion, 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 112 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, only a slight explanation, in order to spring forth from it into plain view. Moreover, the text is often interwoven with the circumstances and relations to which it was ap- plied 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 specifics not only the Idea, but also the environment in which it is to unfold itself, this important advantage enables the sacred orator to abridge his exordium, es- pecially 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 Truth or the Actuality of a thing, e. g\, — the orator, with the design of interest- ing, addressing himself to man's mere desire for knowl- edge, without regard 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 employed in the development of the Idea itself. In the second place, the preliminary statements by which the orator 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 knowledge is, or OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 113 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 circum- locution. At the end of the Introduction, the orator may an- nounce the two or three parts which contain the develop- ment proper ; for why should he not carefully employ this, as well as every other opportunity, to aid the hearer's at- tention, and io facilitate his comprehension of the whole ? If the hearer is compelled to stretch his power of atten- tion 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 pur- poses, 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 to announce it formally. Secondly, — and this appears to me to be the chief rea- son, — such a formal statement of the Plan would have been evidence of study and previous preparation, the ap- pearance of which they avoided as carefully as they sought to maintain that of extemporizing. For they had to deal with a suspicious audience who would have at- tributed 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 10* 114 OR, an honest intention to continually appear in his oration, since he will thereby excite in the hearer only the expec- tation of a mass of information all the more fundamental for this. If, however, the sacred orator would, for any reason, omit the formal mention 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 nec- essary 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 princi- pal positions, by which the leading design of the orator is connected with one of the higher, or one of the subor- dinate Ideas, as the case may be. In the sermon of Reinhardt, e. g\, entitled, " The worthy celebration of the Sacrament is a source of the noblest enjoyment," the leading design of the orator is referred solely to the Idea of Happiness, and is connected with it by the following positions : The worthy celebration of the Holy Sacra- ment affords us a view of our Redeemer in the most af- fecting 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 Virtue is the predominant Idea, the oration may be divided accord- ing to the different motives existing for the practice of a particular Virtue, or according to the different character- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 115 istic 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 accord- ing to one of the subordinate Ideas, — Truth, Possibility, Actuality, — provided only its connection with the higher Ideas is, from the very beginning, clearly and definitely established. To illustrate : the false notions which Chris- tians form of Divine Providence, or of the efficacy of Prayer, stand in the way of their religious and moral de- velopment; from this point of view, instruction respect- ing Providence and the efficacy of Prayer, acccording to the Idea or Category of Truth, may be the only object of the oration. Yet, such instruction should not degen- erate into a complete treatise on these subjects, but the orator should bring forward, in his refutation or indoc- trination, that only which is specially important in prac- tical respects. In a political oration, the whole may be referred to the Idea of Possibility, in order to show that the proposition in question, 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 commiting a fault, derived from the impossibility of avoiding it ; or for neglecting a virtue from the impossibil- ity 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 off 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 116 OR, an oration, 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, with a minuteness of detail which leaves nothing to be desired. In the sacred ora- tion, also, Actuality may be the sole predominant Idea ; first, when the orator wishes to prove a disputed fact be- longing 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 in- stance, he will maintain such a particular fact, not against skepticism in general, but against the doubts of his con- temporaries 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 the second instance, the orator brings into notice those qualities and charac- teristics of a person or a thing which are most congruous with the practical Idea, which guides the whole oration. Thus, Actuality is the single predominant Idea in the sermon of Reinhardt 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 circum- stances, noble in its aim, benificent in its consequences. A peculiarity not so much in the manner of the division itself, 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 OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. lit 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 unfold, 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 divided the errors and their contrary truths into equal and correlative masses, and hence it makes no difference which of the two he an- nounces 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 development of the truth can be wound upon them, he will not combat them with success. The want of connection, and the breaks, so frequently to be noticed in Massillon's sermons, are perhaps to be attrib- uted 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 rarely, should make use of this manner. It is always 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 development of his own thoughts. But the complex oration, in which several Ideas are placed beside each other in equal importance, is of more frequent occurrence than the simple oration, of the divis- ion 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 int^ 118 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, 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 com- pletely, the orator must lead him continually to one and the same goal from several points; the orator's Idea, if I may be allowed the expression, must continue to wind around the Idea of the hearer until it has become com- pletely 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 ora- tion, becomes a subdivision in 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 uniform mode of division, when the orator speaks, first, of the na- ture, and, secondly, of the effects. But unless the Cate- gories Truth and Actuality are handled by a very skil- ful master, discourse based upon them often becomes somewhat cold and tedious, and the hearer remains indif- ferent 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 himself of this cold- ness 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 OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 119 contents 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 insert the representation of Truth and Ac- tuality only when the need of it becomes plainly apparent in the course of the development 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 predominant throughout his oration, and must interweave what he has to say respect- ing Happiness, Virtue, and Duty, in the individual devel- opments 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 induce- ments which lead to it. The course and movement of Ideas in a great orator animates to a similar pregnant and powerful movement in the auditor, in the same way that the example of the hero animates to virtue. Demosthenes, e. g\, in the first oration against Philip, begins with the Category of Pos- sibility; he shows how a more fortunate issue may be expected in the case of further expeditions ; and as he pro- ceeds, the doubts of his hearers vanish, their breasts swell, 120 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, and fill with heart and hope. But the orator does not stop with considerations of a general nature; he goes into detail, and lays before the people a circumstantial plan of all that is to be done. In this way he satisfies the under- standings of his hearers, elevates their minds, and renders them open to the higher Ideas of State-weal, and 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 Category of Possibility, it is first shown that the speaker could not by any possibility have foreseen the issue of the battle at Chseronea, and then the Idea of Virtue follows w T ith a startling rapidity, — the orator affirming that, even if he had foreseen all, he should nevertheless have given no dif- ferent counsel. The well-known division of Cicero's ora- tion 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 Chersonesus, the Idea of Public Advantage is not con- nected, but entangled, with that of Civil Law, in a highly singular manner. For, while according to the former he shows that the army which Diopeithes commanded in that country, should not be disbanded, he, at the same time, according to the latter, exculpates their general with respect to the acts of violence with which he was charged, — a procedure to which he was probably com- pelled "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 entangled, the one commonly would be prej- udicial to the other. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 121 CHAPTER XIV. FIRST FEATURES TOWARDS A SKETCH OF THE ORATOR. It has been remarked, respecting the science of Mor- als, that there are three points from which it may be contemplated, and that a complete philosophic presenta- tion of it is rendered possible only by connecting these different views. Morals, in the first place, may be re- garded as the enumeration of all those commandments derived from the one highest law, by which the will ought to be directed, and of the duties imposed by them. Secondly, the question may arise with respect to that character in the agent, which inclines or enables him to fulfil all these duties ; and developed in this direction, the science of Morals becomes a presentation of ideal virtue, or of ideal virtues. In the third place, again, the product may be contemplated, which perfect virtue pro- duces by the fulfilment of all its duties, and this becomes the chief object in view, under the names of prosperity, happiness, the highest good. But, instead of connect- ing in one, these three different views, writers upon Mor- als commonly make but one of them prominent in their theories, which, consequently, must be one-sided and unsatisfactory. For does not the sum-total of all the different and scattered virtues presuppose an active agent, in whom they can concentrate and come into actual practice ; and when this agent is seen acting, what is more natural than the inquiry after the product of his activity ? 11 122 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 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 Rhetorical Ideas mentioned by us, to justify our having assumed these latter as fundamental Ideas ; and in the second place, still more, for the reason that these fundamental Ideas furnish rules for the treatment of Rhetoric as a system. If Rhetoric, as we affirm, is only a more gen- eral 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 that 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 individual 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 developed Morals from the Idea of Virtue, as a point of departure, — it seems to us, have chiefly in view the representation of the model orator, whom Quintilian describes even from the time of his first instruction in school. But their representations are somewhat ambigu- ous, since, although in this way of treating the subject, we are, indeed, made sufficiently acquainted 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. 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 OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 123 error of forgetting the character and qualities of the orator. The representation of these is the more impor- tant, 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 impossible to follow all these rules, unless there be moral strength of charac- ter, 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 imagination, 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 some- what lacking in body and firmness, unless they are set up by character. But, inasmuch, as the Will is the object which Eloquence 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 sanctifi- cation, if the moral and religious condition, of men 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 124 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, elevating them to a higher 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 and abounding fulness ; and such Ideas are, beyond question, motive-powers moral and Christian in their nature. Nay, they presup- pose 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 Highest and Worthiest, for its own sake, it is still more beautiful by far, to desire at the same time, in connection with this, that which is Highest and Worthi- est for all mankind. This desire 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 principle. Hence it is certainly no envious complaint, when a sacred oration is charged with being wanting in such moral Ideas as alone can beget a disposition of soul that is constantly 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 cer- tainly 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 by him, and which, since the creative power in man is designated generally by the term genius, we would style moral genius. In vain, therefore, is the command : ^ Refer your Ideas to the highest human Ideas," ad- dressed to him who, absorbed in his own emotions, OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 125 fancies and notions, does not feel the heroic 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 necessary things, — in Ideas, — and instead of these, he will play with figures, dissolve in soft emotion, or bring forward information, 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 clins: with disinterested love to his father-land, and is not impelled by this love to study closely the internal relations of his country, and to mark attentively the changes in its foreign relations, how is he, in important and difficult emergencies, to acquire correct views and to form salutary plans, with- out delay ? He will be dumb, as was the case with the Athenian orators, on hearing that Philip had taken Elataea. "For," as Demosthenes said, "that day and that occasion demanded a man who had traced events from the beginning, and had formed a correct conclusion for what reason and for what end Philip had done that." And how had-Demosthenes, the only one who spoke on this day, obtained this keener insight, except through his love of country, in which respect he was in advance of all his fellow-citizens ? It may indeed be said, that in the absence of love of country, self-interest, hatred and friendship, preconceived opinions, political systems, will not leave the orator destitute of ideas and plans. Per- haps not ; but here the great difficulty presents itself, that these very 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 11* 126 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 connection is not a natural, but a forced one, talent of the first order will often fail in the endeavor to carry through the deception,* and the web of its argu- ment 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 Cato in the Roman Senate, respecting the punish- ment of the fellow-conspirators of Catiline. 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 advantage, 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 the younger Cato, that definition of the orator is justified, which, according to Q,uintilian,f originated with the elder Cato, and which is indisputa- bly the best that has come down to us from antiquity, viz. : The orator is an upright man ivho understands speaking. * A wrong design is betrayed by the contradictions in the course and connection of thought. ^ireiBdv tis, o7jxai, Kanovpytav iirl fi^j irpoa-riKovTa irpdyßara robs \6yovs fjLeracpeprjy Bvcrx^p^s a.v6,yKf\ Qaivetrfrai* — Demosth. ad' versus Leptinem, p. 100, ed. Wolf, t Instit. XII. 1. BOOK IL ON ELOCUTION CHAPTER I. AFFECTION AND PASSION. Before we proceed further, let us cast a glance over the path which we have opened. It was our design to seek for a fundamental principle, that should bring unity and connection into the frag- mentary and disconnected theory of Eloquence. In order to this, we made one of the characteristics of Elo- quence, the striving to produce an influence outwardly, its essential characteristic, and in this way found that it stands upon an ethical basis and ground, and is an active process ; that, as it proceeds only from Ideas, it can address itself only to Ideas. The development of this single thought has already led us to important results, and has combined into a systematic unity many assertions which in the common theories of Eloquence are laid down without proof; and we have also been enabled by it to correct many errors in the prevailing views on this subject. We have seen that there is but one Eloquence, and that civil Eloquence is connected with sacred by the unity of its constituent principle, 128 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, although each is differently modified by the particular relation in which it moves ; that the Ancients, in con- formity with a feeling in the highest degree correct, have assumed three species of Eloquence, corresponding to the three highest Ideas ; by laying down Truth as a subordi- nate Rhetorical Idea, we have found again one of the characteristics of Eloquence, its inclination to Philoso- phy, but, at the same time, as we flatter ourselves, have thrown some light upon the difficult question respecting the dividing line between Philosophy and Eloquence; we have given rules respecting the plan and division of an oration which proceed according to Ideas, and, there- fore, are preferable to the common method of division, which proceeds merely according to fragmentary concep- tions ; and, finally, in order to justify our ethical view, we have in different places made it apparent that the orator is capacitated for the performance of his proper business only by means of a truly moral state of heart. And thus, as we believe, has our ethical principle maintained itself, so far as that part of Rhetoric is con- cerned which embraces the doctrine of Invention and Arrangement ; for all the rules which can properly -be given respecting these subjects flow directly from the fundamental law laid down by us, which, in its develop- ment, has shown not only how each and everything in this part of Eloquence should be, but also why it should be so, and not otherwise. To maintain this principle with respect to that part of Rhetoric which is now to follow,— with respect to Elocution, so called, — seems a work of greater difficulty. For since the excitement of the Affections, or at least of the Passions, is that with which we have to do here, how, it may be asked, is this to take its origin from an ethical principle, nay, even to OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 129 be justified before it ? Furthermore, we are here, and rightly too, to expect the outlines at least, of a theory of Prose; and it would seem that an ethical principle could in no way lead to it. It does, indeed, seem so; but it is seeming merely ; for, in fact, this part of Rhetoric con- stitutes the very triumph of the ethical view, since prob- lems are solved fry it which can be solved by no other view. But we must, in the first place, express our regret at the errors by which this part of the subject has been dis- figured, and for which the Ancients, properly, are respon- sible, who, since they are now universally lauded, must here, at least, take home a merited blame. This blame falls, first, upon the Rhetoricians, who again can throw the accusation back upon the orators themselves, or rather, upon the circumstances amidst which they spoke. Ancient Eloquence owed its power and definiteness principally to the rapidity with which the effect followed immediately after the oration was ended ; but in this very circumstance lay also a source of degeneration. For, since the orator contended for honor, property, and life, and since the possession or loss of these depended upon the effect of the oration, he would, in this his strait, find every means good, of whatever sort, provided it only led to the end in view ; and he who could get hold of no noble means, must often content himself with bad ones, satisfied, if he only attained his end, and not considering that he would have attained it with much more cer- tainty had he employed worthier means. Hence the orators allowed themselves in artifices of many sorts, in order to deceive the judges and the people, to dazzle them and excite their passions. This practice, which of necessity, must often succeed, passed over into the 130 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, theory of Eloquence, which, in this instance, as generally, was not able to rise above the existing practice. The artifices for stimulating the minds of the hearers were collected together and arranged in a connected series; and rhetoricians, who held the excitement of the passions to be necessary in their art, taught for this end, not the training of the mind, to use Plato's phrase,* but the actual deceiving of the mind. Aristotle does this in the section of his Rhetoric where he treats of the Passions ; and Cicero speaks of the means which he employs* for exciting them with a frankness at which we cannot but be surprised.! But it is, perhaps, equally surprising that these writers, and those who have harmonized with them in sentiment, should have been implicitly believed, and that these arti- fices should have been held necessary and indispensable in secular Eloquence at least. The example of Demos- thenes alone, it seems to me, could not but have led to the thought that they might be dispensed with, and that other means might be employed in their stead, which are not only much nobler but also much more reliable. If this orator had written a Rhetoric, it would certainly have been different from Cicero's rhetorical writings, and have been not unworthy of his instructor Plato, who, in the Gorgias, lays down such a strict view 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, * Ifvxaryeoyia. — Phcedrus, p. 331 ed. Heindorf. t Qua (miseratione) nos ita dolenter usi sumus, ut puerum infantem in manibus, perorantes tenuerimus ; ut alia in causa, excitato reo nobili, sublato etiam filio parvo, plangore et lamentatione complerimus forum. Orator c. 38. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 131 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 investi- gation, and to establish a distinction between two things, which, though very different from each other, are yet commonly confounded with each other, — namely, be- tween 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, excites, 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 can- not, in strictness, be justified, since it supposes the inac- tivity of the Reason, a power which, indeed, cannot always prevent the reception of impressions from without, but which should, nevertheless, limit, elevate, and, if they are injurious, suppress them. Moreover, this inward condition is, in its nature, unquiet, perplexed, and pain- ful 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 mind which owes its origin to an Idea; I call it Affec- tion, (Affekt,) and not Passion, since the mind in this case affects itself through its own reflex activity, instead of passively receiving an impression from without, as in the other case. Yet this term Affection, which renders me iiable to misapprehension, and is not, by any means, 132 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR adequate, I employ only because I know of no better one. What, however, I mean by it, will be clear from what follows. A mind in which an Idea has become living consciousness, cannot possibly retain that coldness which accompanies mere abstract representations or conceptions; for since the Idea contains within itself the notion of an activity of some sort, and the impulse to it, it must necessarily appropriate to itself all the powers of the soul, and set them in motion in one definite direc- tion; and from this united working of all the faculties, from the exertion accompanying 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 denominated poetic or artistic inspiration, and is universally recognized and esteemed as fine 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 negative refraining from evil can have coldness of soul as its attendant ; 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 in- dicates the inactivity of the higher spiritual powers, while, on the contrary, Affection as distinguished from Passion, supposes the highest activity of the Reason, which is the parent of Ideas. Furthermore, the warmth pf 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. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 133 For this reason, and also because Affection does not, like Passion, divide the mind into two contending parties, but unites all the powers of the soul, and all the emo- tions of the heart, in finest harmony with the" Reason, it is the happiest state by far to which man can raise him- self. 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 denomi- nated 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 gener- ates it can never be exhausted by a single exhibition, but only by a continued series of exhibitions, and, therefore, has a long-continued existence, nay, if it is a moral Idea, an eternal existence, for the contemplating mind, it im- parts this attribute and duration to the mental affection which accompanies it. Instead, however, of duly distinguishing between two mental manifestations so diverse as those above de- scribed, it is too common to denominate everything as Passionate, that is attended with any degree of fire and life ; and it often happens that that which is beautiful and excellent in the highest degree, is degraded by the debasing conception which is connected 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 inde- pendent power, a Passion for this art or science ; his love is an Affection which is generated by Ideas; and he, 12 134 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OK alone, has a Passion for an art who merely desires to contemplate its creations for the sake of the pleasure they produce, 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, or Lust, 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 higher, it is Affec- tion, so soon as the Idea of a perpetual connection comes to lie at the bottom of it ; an Idea which is neither dis- turbed by separating circumstances, nor grows cold from the earthly possession of the object. Speaking gener- ally, the action of man should never be Passionate, but always Affectionate ; it should never betray the fire which an external object has kindled, but should be constantly animated by that mild and clear warmth which accom- panies 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. 135 CHAPTER II. THE DUTY OF THE ORATOR TO SPEAK WITH AFFECTION AND TO AWAKEN AFFECTION. Having, in the foregoing, shown that true Affection as distinguished 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 assembly 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 some- thing, 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 vanity, like a mere fine speaker ; and any one of these assumptions, 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 Affection and Passion, will, it is hoped, protect us from the charge of demanding in the orator, feverish heat, sickly emotion, or strained anima- tion ; we demand warmth with thoughtfulness, feeling with reason, emphasis without distortion, light and fire without vapor, — fine qualities, which even the common 136 ELOQUENCE A OR, hearer knows how to estimate, and readily 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 greatest 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 Affec- tion can be communicated 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 energy that renders Reason inactive; on the contrary, mere blind feeling is held in subordina- tion, since the orator compels it to cooperate 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 generated by a stronger activity of the Reason, in which there can be no excess, and the calm thought must at every moment 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 imagine. The orator, therefore, if he is able to excite Affection, need prescribe OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 137 no limits to himself while making the attempt; owing to human weakness, instead of going too far, he will ordinarily 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 is for 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 sub- ject 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 development it has received in the process, is always of itself, independently, able to reproduce Affection. Invariably excluding everything Passionate, and as- suming that Affection can be imparted to the hearer, we can now, without any opposition whatever, we hope, lay down the assertion, 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 Happi- ness, 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, knowing, willing, and doing, were one and the same act. In this case, he would only need to know that he ought to will, in order to will, and would only need to will, in order to do. But 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 12* 138 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE* OR, to what does this cold knowing and this feeble willing lead, and how can the orator be satisfied with producing it? For the very reason, that something is to be accom- plished which is not yet accomplished; for the very reason that he finds the State and the Church in a cor- rupt, 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 con- tradiction with himself; and if he does not attain it, he has spoken in vain. But in order to attain it, it is neces- sary, that the Idea of the hearer be raised to such a grade of vitality as that it can immediately 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 accordance with Ideas, this is only because Affection is wanting in them, the very link itself, which, in the chain of human activity, 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 before his fellow-citizens, but also when he speaks before a Chris- tian assembly. For if it is not brought about immedi- ately, when will it be? At another time? But why defer that which is in itself good ? Or would the orator merely enlighten and cultivate the Reason under the con- viction 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 OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 139 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 sur- rendering itself, which perhaps will never again fall with- in 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 before 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 confess that I can declare decidedly neither for the one nor for the other, and that it seems to me the ques- tion ought not to be asked, since it is based upon a false view of Eloquence. So far as conviction is concerned, this is by no means sufficient to constitute the substance of Eloquence, if by it is understood the proof that the particular Idea of the orator is contained in the general Idea of the hearer. But this is hardly the meaning given to the word ; it is generally taken to denote a demonstration, by means of which the whole philosophic 140 connection of thought in the orator is impressed on the hearer, in order that he may be excited to one particular act. Conviction of this sort seems to me to be an impossibility, and I believe that the best dialec- tician 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 directly, 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 action. But this part of the subject, as I believe, has been sufficiently explained in the First Book. I can as little approve of persuasion, if by it is understood the distortion or dark- ening 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, how- ever, conviction may be taken to denote the production of the Idea in consciousness, and persuasion its eleva- tion and transformation into Affection, — which, how- ever, 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 convic- tion nor persuasion alone; but that his conviction should be persuasive, and his persuasion convincing. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 141 CHAPTER III. THE DIFFERENT KINDS OF AFFECTION. Before we proceed to treat of the means of exciting the Affections, 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 different from each other. In the second place, the character and qualities, as well of the subject or agent 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 inno- cent mind, may be applied to a guilty or an innocent man ; and in relations so dissimilar, the Affection aris- ing from the enlivenment of this Idea must asume different hues. Finally, in the third place, several Affec- tions, in themselves different, may flow together, and by their union, form a third. The knowledge of these dif- ferent kinds of Affections seems to us to be necessary, since, without it, it will be impossible to determine 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, so called, from which perhaps the fragments of so many unsuccessful under- 142 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, takings in the department of Rhetoric 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 observation 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 different inward states of men. In this, or in a similar way, it may perhaps not be im- possible to distinguish and to designate satisfactorily all the different movements in the mind which so interpen- etrate and run through each other, and which no so- called empirical Psychology has as yet systematized. Yet, what we shall be able to do here can be regarded as only a slight contribution towards such an undertak- ing. With 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 conduct, must be remarked as a peculiar Af- fection. It is denominated 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 imposes it upon himself. If, however, man does not strive after the realization of an Idea, but after the possession of an outward good, his Zeal, which at first was an Affection, degenerates into Passion. If the Idea of Duty has been OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 143 suppressed 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 positive 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 becomes 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 becomes Love, Friendship, Esteem, Benevolence, Emu- lation, 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 realized, but often, also, a passionate desire for that which stimulates 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 144 ♦ ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR 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 Benevolence, when it is accompanied with the impulse to manifest itself in procuring some earthly advantage for the object of its regard. Emulation is inseparable from Love and Friendship, and in general, arises in a mind that is pervaded by the Idea of Virtue, on seeing its Ideal of excellence more perfectly realized in another being than itself. Admiration is the loving recognition of another's excellence, when it is unattain- able by us, or, at least, when it seems so far removed from our own Ideal, that we cannot strive after it with- out 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 ad- mires either the invisible Godhead, or the Godhead as revealed in Christ, for the very reason that its perfec- tion is without limits or restrictions, and consequently, may be taken as an Ideal by every man. The Idea of Virtue produces the Affection of Contempt and Disesteem towards those who seem to be destitute of the Idea of Virtue; 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 im- perfect 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 ihat he has received it from God, without any merit OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 145 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 associated with the Idea of Happiness : — Longing after the highest Good, Hope to obtain it, Gratitude to- wards 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 bor- der so closely upon the Passions. He who stands upon the position of the mere moralist, and seeks his happi- ness 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 applied to political relations, and the indi- vidual animated by it is striving after the welfare of the State. So long as Enthusiasm only, is felt in relation to those who promote the welfare of the State, and Dis- pleasure only, in relation to those who disturb it, these are beautiful Affections, and worthy of esteem ; but, in- stead of Enthusiasm, there very easily arises blind Ado~ ration, and instead of Displeasure, raging Hatred; and these political Passions, which presuppose a great ob- scuration 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 patriotic disposition. In like man- ner, Enmity against him who has done us some injury, 13 146 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, is never an Affection, but always a Passion. The same is true of Envy, in which the Begrudging another of his Happiness is connected with Hatred towards 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 condi- tion. It is a true Affection only when, as has been said before, it springs from the pure Idea of Happiness dwel- ling 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 innocent man stricken with disease, or a man who, considering his high quali- ties, 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, con- demns the excitement of the Passions, but who after- wards, unable to carry out his theory independently, adapts himself to the necessities of the casej treats of the subject-matter of this chapter with evident interest, and with the precision in the specification of particulars peculiar to him. He assumes eleven Passions : — An- ger, Placability, Love, Hatred, Fear, Shame, Benevolence, Moral Indignation, Pity, Envy, Emulation. It is easy to see how, in this enumeration, things the most diverse are brought together, — e. g., the mean vice of Envy, with * Nemesis. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 147 the noble striving of Emulation, and, consequently, how necessary it is to distinguish between Affection and Pas- sion. 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 muti- late 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 contra- dictions and contrasts which are contained in it. The play of such a mind is much more sure and safe when it is directed against a Passion, which continually pre- sents a great number of weak points, and which is al- ways 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 awak- ened by his opponent, that is working against him. This is the only one, among the many shallow reasons men- tioned by Cicero, for the employment of Wit in Elo- 148- ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, quence, 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 rea- soning 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 reflec- tion than to action. But the orator should never let it come to this ; for while in this way he destroys the Affec- tion 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, begin his whole work over again. The inter- mingling 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 redoubled force upon his opponent. In this way, without any cold and indif- ferent state intervening, Affection follows upon Affec- tion, and that awakened last is strengthened by the con- trast with the preceding. It will not be more- difficult, it * Quod fran git adversarium, quod impedit, quod elevat, quod deterret, quod refutat. — De Orator e, II. 58. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 149 will rather be more easy, for him who speaks with the consciousness of the goodness of his cause, and can ap- ply the whole power of the moral Ideas to his own pur- poses, to suddenly reverse a false feeling in the mind of the hearer, which is unfavorable to himself, than first to kill all feeling in him, and then reanimate him for his own purposes. In order to clearly perceive how foreign Wit is from Eloquence, let one consider the nature of sacred Elo- quence, and ask himself, What would be the effect of a witty sally, against an opposer of religion, for example, • in the midst of a serious discourse ? Would it not, of necessity, so destroy the whole impression of the dis- course 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. Upholding, 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 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 en- 13* 150 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, tertaining, perhaps, to the modern reader, in those pas- sages in which he covers his opponent with wit and ridicule, but let one only observe how Demosthenes re- futes 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 ? * * Wit, in a deep and vehement nature, assumes the form of sarcasm, and moral scorn. When there is a perfectly clear perception of the thorough falsity of an opinion perversely defended by an opponent, it is accompanied in the earnest and truth-loving mind with an ethical indignation, which is too intense and strong for any merely light play like that of ridicule, and gives itself vent in that bolt-like denunciation of sarcasm which at once smites and withers. Wit is never found in the Scriptures ; but irony and sarcasm sometimes appear in their most incisive and awful force, as in the advice of Elijah to the priests of Baal (1 Kings xviii. 27 sq.), and in the description of idol-manufacturing by Isaiah (Isaiah xl. 19, 20; xli. 6, 7). — Tr. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 151 CHAPTER IV. THE MEANS OF EXCITING AFFECTION J OR THE RHETORI- CAL PRESENTATION OF THOUGHT. The way for the investigation of the important in- quiry, 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 exist- ence. We do not treat of the excitement of the Pas- sions, because it is a subject which can find a place only in a Rhetoric constructed according to entirely false, or, at least, imperfect principles. Aristotle, upon this sub- ject, 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 Passion 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 human 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 en- kindle ; 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; nay, that the former, in comparison with 152 OR, 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 rhe- torical end, as we have already shown ; so that good sense, which goes hand-in-hand with duty, limits the. ac- tivity of the orator to the educing 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 him- self enlivened and pervaded by it. For the aim, in this case, is not to render 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 connected 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 produced in the mind of the hearer by means which lie without the Idea, but only by means of the Idea itself, and its presentation. 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 Affection in each. If, therefore, we can discover a particular and peculiar manner of presenta- tion, by which an ethical Idea may be gradually carried OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 153 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 evi- dent that it can be neither a Philosophical nor a Poetical manner. For although Philosophy exhibits Ideas in themselves, and Poetry, an Idea in a sensuous dress, yet neither strives to excite an Affection from which a sud- den 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 excitement of Affection for its peculair aim and end ; and I affirm that this is the only point of view from which we can proceed, if we would consecutively and systemat- ically 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 Composition. 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 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 Emo- 154 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE I OR tions, 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 investi- gation again, precisely at the same point where w r e dropped it in order to explain some subjects which pre- sented 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 universal and neces- sary Ideas of his 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 and 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 treat- ing 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 resist- ance 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. But since, in the third place, through this advancing movement, the entire relation of the orator is every moment changing, 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, OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 155 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 Progress, the third the law of Vivacity, — we shall now examine, and endeavor to apply to Eloquence, as the means of exciting Affection. 156 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE I OR, 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 circumstances under which it is attempted to be exercised. These circumstances are no other than our relations to our fellow-men, which again are determined by their particular individuality, and by all that is con- nected with this. But every man demands that his indi- viduality be respected, and although he acknowledges that it can and must undergo modifications, he never- theless demands that these consist not in the suppres- sion, 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 coexist with each other, this same law imposes upon us the obligation to respect their individuality,^ e., in our method of procedure to adapt ourselves to exist- ing relations and circumstances. For in endeavoring to realize an Idea, we assert and maintain our own individ- uality ; but in order that this may not be done at the expense, 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 insinuation of our own individuality into that of our hearers. Hence arose the first duty to fuse our Ideas with theirs ; hence arises, now, the second duty OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 157 of recognizing their individuality while asserting our own, and of employing the greatest carefulness 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 high- est 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 con- dition, 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 uni- formly characterized 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 its full rights to the individuality of every other man. Hardly have they commenced 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 control and give direc- tion to social life, and to such examples must we look if we would obtain a true and lively notion of the dis- tinctive 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 forward their propositions at the wrong time, and are not able to adapt them to the individual peculiarities of those with whom they have to do, inva- riably fail in their plans and enterprises ; good men, per- 14 158 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, haps, and yet, without doubt, men who need a higher moral cultivation. They are the genuinely unrhetorical natures, exactly adapted to place clearly and plainly be- fore the eye, what the orator should not be. Now the law of Adaptation is as valid in relation to a rhetorical, 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 rela- tions, will be so suited to the hearer's power of compre- hension, as that it will neither strain it to over-exertion, nor leave it unemployed. For the power of comprehen- sion depends upon the learning and intellectual culti- vation 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 obtain 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 under- takes a particular business, and neglects 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 may so say, of a universal or model hearer ; and this image, if the orator keep it constantly before him, and OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 159 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 respecting the Public which he is to address, or to occupy their attention 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 inade- quateness ought not to have escaped his notice, and he should have given up a profession to which he had not become equal, especially since, in the majority 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 intellectual state of cultivated hearers, and to adapt his conceptions to theirs, unless he possesses scientific and learned culture ; this, therefore, he should acquire ; ig- norance in him is to be regarded as weakness of moral character, and as such, is to incur 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 learn- ing 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 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 160 entirely of the hearer's power of comprehension, and oftentimes to present things that would weary the atten- tion of his audience to no purpose, or only awaken ob- scure images, instead of distinct conceptions ; and this is the second, and, as it appears from investigation, very 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 Affec- tion. In order that the hearer may be induced to take part in a series of conceptions, it is absolutely necessary that the activity which is required 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 understanding. 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 accordingly, and to impart to his oration the right relation to the hearer's powers of comprehension, so that the moral qual- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 161 ities and character of the orator need not come into account at all. This may have actually been the case in Athens, and in Rome, with many a demagogue ; 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, there- fore, where the necessity 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 compelled, by cir- cumstances of a highly pressing nature, to a certain 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 re- lation to his hearers is far more unhampered than that of the ancient orator, since they cannot react upon him in a manner so totally destructive of success, as in the case above mentioned, and how difficult, nay, how impos- sible, it often seems, even for men of the shrewdest good sense, men whom no one can deny to be capable of forming a correct estimate of the capacity of their audience, to keep themselves in their discourse upon the right level, and neither too high nor too low. Car- ried away by complacency in something which they have learned or originated, they at one time require im- possibilities of the hearer's power of comprehension; at another, from mere habit, sticking to common-places, they set forth that which is perfectly well known to their 14* 162 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, audience, m a prolix and wearisome manner. Does not the former testify of too great vanity and self-compla- cency, which are certainly faults of a moral nature ; and does not the latter, as does all supine yielding to mere habit, presuppose 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 comprehension — although it is only a very subor- dinate excellence, cannot 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 prin- cipal object 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 constituted, exhibits learning and science to them as the highest of all things, to which nothing, religion and morality not excepted, should be preferred. In vain, therefore, are they 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 Pro- fessor'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 OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 163 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 con- trary, this accommodation of discourse to the hearer's power of comprehension is not a mere shrewd and skil- ful 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 oration be adapted to the capacity of the hearer, but also that the orator have reference to his whole individ- uality, to his position, his relations, to the occurrences which enter deeply into, and determine, his fortune and fate. And this kind of adaptation is far more difficult to attain than the first. In order to this, it is necessary that the orator know, and have before his eye, the innu- merable elements which enter into the civil, moral, and religious condition of man ; namely, the circle of his ideas and experiences, the thoughts that are com- mon or foreign to him, the images with which his imagi- nation is commonly employed, the more or less perfect Ideal of happiness, of civil, moral, religious perfection, which floats before him, his virtues and vices, his wishes and desires, together with all the more intimate modifica- tions 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 comprehension, the best teachers of Rhetoric seem to have recognized as a means of exciting the Affections I 164 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, (in their sense indeed, according to which they were merely Passions) ; at least, I know no other reason why Aristotle in his Rhetoric, immediately 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 mode of thought of his hearers, according to their age and standing in society,! an d he only errs in ex- pecting 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 address his whole individuality in a manner to benefit and elevate, 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 sym- pathy 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 * Rhet. Lib. IT. c. xii. — xvii. t Acuto homine nobis opus est, et natura usuque callido, qui sagaciter pervestiget, quid sui cives, iique homines quibus aliquid dicendo persuadere velit, cogitent, sentiant, opinentur, expectent. Teneat oportet venas cu- jusque generis, aetatis, ordinis, et eorum apud quos aliquid aget aut erit ac- turus, mentes sensusque degustet. — De Orat. I. 51 OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 165 excite the Affections in a negative way at first, — L e., to avoid all that might displease, and so injure the hearer as such, or that might render things in themselves indif- ferent to him matters of offence. Without this care beforehand, the excitement of Affection 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 irksome in their nature. And this is no undue or sickly sensibility on the part of the hearer, for the claim itself, which I as an orator make upon him, to en- tirely 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 en- dowed with true moral wisdom, must know how to go around all the difficulties which he cannot at the mo- ment 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 contemporaries, and became all things to all men, if by any means he might save some. The orators of antiquity, Demosthenes perhaps alone excepted, 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 men- tioned to him aloud by one of the bystanders,* he, with- * Verrina, IV. 3. — Wolf ad Leptineam, p. 300. 166 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, out doubt, intended by this seeming ignorance 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 Rhetor- ical Adaptation, 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 endeavors, to soon degenerate into the production of mere form without substance. This was very soon the case with ancient Eloquence, because the Ancients misapprehended the moral* nature of Eloquence, and regarded it only as an instrument for the attainment of ambitious designs.* * An artifice similar to this of Cicero's, only still more shrewd and cun- ning, is attributed to Demosthenes, in order to explain the following passage in the oration for Ctesiphon : " For I fthus he addresses -/Eschines), 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 JEschines is a hireling or a guest of Alexander ? Do you hear what they say? " — Von Returner's Translation, p. 122. — Here, say the Scholiasts, Demosthenes purposely pronounced the word ^KT^(ar6s, with an incorrect accent, and represented the exclamation 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 ^Es- el lines as an hireling. This explanation 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 tfie 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 exclamatory correction on their part ; but could this same ex- citable public have thus coolly entered into the deception, and pretended to pronounce a judgment respecting JEschines, when they only corrected De- mosthenes % It seems to me, that Demosthenes, by this artifice, in reality so impertinent to the occasion, would not have won over the minds of his hear- ers, but would have only exasperated them. But besides this, while exam- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 167 If such an extreme Adaptation on the part of the orator is to be condemned, the opposite fault, namely, striking violently against existing and unalterable rela- tions, is likewise to be regarded as contrary to morality, and contrary to good sense. A shock of this kind anni- hilates immediately the effect of the most powerful ora-( tion, and we need only to examine 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 productive genius, but, what is far worse, in moral feeling. If an audience should be so obtuse as not to be offended by mistakes 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 Adap- tation, neither will it perceive the presence of Adaptation 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. inihg the orations of Demosthenes, we should at least consider what is due to his character, the dignity of which, even though but half recognized, must protect him from the suspicion of having meddled with such miserable con- ceits ; 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, that he could from the first reckon upon a strong party among the audience, and might anticipate that they would answer the question accord- ing to his wishes ? 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. 168 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 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 according 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 calling to make them, will never do injury ; they will never weaken, but will always strengthen the effect of his oration, and the Affection which he would produce. How cultivated was the feel- ing for the Becoming 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 effect of his orations by the freedom which was so unmistakably connected with his love for his country and the existing constitution. Still less should the sacred orator fear to depict moral and religious corrup- tion, according to its true reality, and to terrify the im- penitent sinner by the retributions of the future life. He who omits to do this from fear of estranging his audience from himself, does not consider that the hearer altogether involuntarily judges of the orator according to moral rules, and allows him to venture upon all that he may rightfully venture upon ; that the most vehement 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 closely akin to the propensity for the Terrible and Sub- lime, by virtue of which he is better pleased with a merited humiliation, that may lead to better senti- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 169 ments, than with that superficial emotion which is gen- erated by flattering and specious discourse. Thus the renowned orators who spoke before Louis XIV. and his court, — an auditory who surely would never have par- doned the slightest impropriety in them, — often em- ployed and applied all the terrors of religion, and all the censorial power of their office, and always with the greatest 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 awaken- ing of Affection. If, namely, the orator moves in a cir- cle 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 power. For in this w T ay 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 fer- mentation, which we denominate Affection, is awakened. There may be many forms of expression suitable to the thought, and intelligible to the hearer ; but there is per- haps 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 presenta- tion, to this form of clothing his thought, this would be an egotistic procedure that would punish itself bv the 15 170 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, inefficiency of the oration. But the occasional oration shows how strong the impression is, which can be pro- duced by the wise use of feelings already existing in its 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, presuppose the existence in the hearers of certain pre- vailing views and opinions, certain hopes and fears, cer- tain feelings of joy and thankfulness, with greater cer- tainty 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 different rays into the focus of his leading Idea, he will be able to raise his Idea to a very high grade of Affection in the mind of the auditor. This is the reason why the effect of sermons on festival occasions is always greater than that of ordinary dis- courses on the Sabbath. In the former case, the hearer, however unfavorable his mental state may be for the purposes of the orator, nevertheless, always brings with him some sentiments of a religious character, 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 auditory 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 cen- turies, and by constructions which are foreign to pure prose. But this is always only a cold show without OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 171 power, — if power, as I affirm, can mean nothing else than the efficiency of the oration in exciting Affection. In the throng of active life, amidst heart-rending mis- fortunes, during the silent hours of contemplation, 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 w T ith the silent emotions of our heart, when they come forth into consciousness, is always as noble as it is sim- ple; if, therefore, the orator would penetrate into our inner life, and renew again the traces of forgotten thoughts and feelings, if he would actually address us, he must employ the very same well-known and cus- tomary language in which we are wont to commune with ourselves. Every strange expression, nay, every unusual phrase, tears us away from ourselves, instead of leading us back into ourselves ; and the stream of in- ward harmonies, which perhaps was on the point of flowing forth, suddenly breaks upon such unexpected obstacles, and is dissipated. Moreover, with the dis- turbance of this flow is connected displeasure towards a man who decks himself out in a showy costume of sounding phrases, which, after all, are not so very diffi- cult to collect together, instead of employing my com- mon, 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 excepted here; but to allow one's self in even the slightest departure from ordinary language, unless there is some particular reason to justify it, seems to me to be unadapted to the oration, and contrary to its aim, and is therefore, according to 172 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 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 lan- guage ; on the contrary, I would recommend to all sacred orators the frequent employment of the expres- sions and images of the sacred Scriptures, as a highly adapted and effectual means of exciting Affection, pro- vided 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 language 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 of which 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 orator may yet, in the case of the generality of hearers, reckon with cer- tainty upon a thought being understood sooner in a Biblical than in a Philosophical dress. But the great power of Bible language, in awakening Affection, con- sists 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 ab- stract terminology, at the same time transfer 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 OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 173 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 employment of the language of the Bible, even though the orator cannot presuppose that the hearer is acquainted with it, or that it has ever con- tributed to awaken his inward life ; for by this frequent employment of it, this closer acquaintance, and this in- 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 language, and exciting Affection by the Adaptation of his discourse to the individuality, is, in the last an- alysis of it, nothing but a moral defect. In the main, it is that self-complacent vanity which only desires the pleasure of expressing itself strikingly and agreeably, and which shrinks from the difficult and oftentimes violent effort which is requisite in order to go out from self, and into another individuality. From this weakness 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 w r ith enthusi- astic applause (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 pro- duce a noble Affection urging on to great resolves. Sec- ondly, there is also a certain aversion to the process in question, which may be found even in noble and tender 15* 174 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, minds, and which prevents them from entering 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 ab- sorbs himself entirely in the Idea, and develops it with great carefulness, 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 employ- ing himself solely with the relations and inclinations of his hearers, in order to say something agreeable and pleasing to them, deserves the very same, if not greater, moral condemnation, with the faults already mentioned, and exerts the same debilitating influence upon the dis- course. An orator who is thus moved, often lets his hearers melt away in powerless emotion ; but he will never kindle in them a true Affection, since the clear ray of his Idea, by which alone this is to be accomplished, 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 lacks Adaptation, and is so far 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 individuality, the Idea of his oration, and the relations of his hearers, make upon him, as that each one of them be satisfied without any disparagement to the others : and in order OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 175 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 rhetorical 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 brilli- ancy and splendor ; for when the three different elements above mentioned are fused together, their colors flow into each other, while, on the contrary, imperfect orations, for the very reason that some one of these elements appears separated from the others, provided they are elaborated with any tolerable degree of ability, 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 dig- nified presentation of his own individuality, and such a transparent development of his Idea, such an all-com- prehending reference to existing relations ; and from the constant fusion of these three constituents originates his forcible simplicity, which would have been totally de- stroyed, if, in his orations, the lyrical and the phil- osophical elements had ever been separated from the real and practical. On the other hand, Cicero, is far less deserving of being set up as a model of Adaptation in the oration ; not that he ever rises above his hearer's power of comprehension, or brings forward anything unbefitting and offensive, but at one time his own indi- viduality, at another, his Idea, at another, the existing circumstances, are too prominent ; and that one of these 176 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, three elements which is predominant at any time, throws the other two into the shade. But on account of this very fault, his coloring is more brilliant than that of Demosthenes, and he can, in general, be understood w T ith 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 never- theless have this similarity : that Massillon, like the Gre- cian orator, without giving up himself and his Idea, realizes to himself, in the most accurate manner, the life of his hearers ; on the contrary, 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 religious elevation, nothing but cold admiration, or, at most, an inflammation of the fancy that is morally useless. If, moreover, the French themselves almost always place Bossuet before Massillon, this only proves, like many other judgments of their critics, how little they know how to recognize and estimate that which is truly excel- lent in their own literature. APPENDIX. TASTE. What Taste properly is, is as much a matter of dis- pute, as is the place which it should hold in a theory of Art, and the influence which should be conceded to it in the production and criticism of works of Art. Indeed, * See Note I., page 207. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 177 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, however much it may have been enjoined upon it not to exercise Taste in its judgments, does not, nevertheless, cease to regard its re- quisitions as valid, and since, moreover, Taste sometimes unconsciously influences the judgments of those who despise it, 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 universally recognized. It can, indeed, find no place in such theories as recognize no other rules for Art but those which the imagination imposes upon itself; for Taste will never have any connection with the imagi- nation, so long as the imagination works separate from the other faculties of the soul. But in this very separa- tion lies the fault ; for how is it possible 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 pre- dominate in Art as it does in Rhetoric, will certainly not be without influence upon the impulse of the imagina- tion 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 Becoming and Adapted (to irpeirov), 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 relations in which he finds himself to them, should accompany him 178 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J ORj at all times. But if Taste has become a moral habit in him, I do not see 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 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 themselves gain in liveli- ness, and their embodiment in power and perfection. For in order to make his work a living whole, in order to give it individuality, 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 originated, 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 Becoming and Adapted is accompanied 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 pro- duction of Beauty. Moreover, the term Taste, so offen- sive 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 mani- fold way. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 179 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 representations by which the Ideas are developed. But the question 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 development of man, considered as a striving after perfection never to be absolutely 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 diffi- culties that stand iri the way, determine him to entirely give up his plan, or if, occupying himself 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 sometimes advance slower, because he must re- move the obstructions which oppose him, out of his way, 180 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, 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 digressions. But this progress itself receives its perfection from the steady constancy prevailing in it, — i. e., from the easy connec- tion 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 preparation for what follows. If this essential requisite be wanting, and the movement of the discourse is only by leaps and impulses, individual brilliant frag- ments may, indeed, be the result, but no continuous ethical life. From Ethics, therefore, we derive the law of constant Progress (for it is contained necessarily and essentially in Ethics), and not from the mode of representation employed in Philosophy or Poetry, in which it is to be met with only under many limitations, nay, is often forced out by the opposite principle. For the activity of the poet, like that of the philosopher, returns back into itself, because of the effort to impart roundness and finish to its creations, and is accompanied w T ith a rest and satisfaction which is grounded in the consciousness of the possibility of perfectly representing its Idea. The ethical striving, on the contrary, in the consciousness that it can never reach its Ideal of perfection, nay, can never exhibit even a single Idea perfectly realized in actual existence, is never to give itself up to rest and self-satisfaction, but with abiding zeal, though with re- flection, is to hasten on immediately from each step in the process that lias been taken to a new one. And if OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 181 the law of constant Progress is found in certain species of Poetry, as for example, the Drama, it must not be supposed 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 something of the ethical element in it. As, therefore, the individual actions in a complete moral process join on upon one another, so also in the oration should the ethical Ideas and the adapted repre- sentations which serve to develop 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 sec- ondary importance, that might have influence upon his decision, to moderate his excited feelings, to obviate an objection, 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 if he were deviating entirely from his path, yet, even in his deviation, the movement towards the goal is con- stantly apparent, and it is soon seen that he turned aside into the by-bath, 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 unbroken chain, in which not the least break, either for the understanding or for the feelings, is discoverable. 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 nien find in themselves no enthusiasm for . 16 182 ELOQUExNCE A VIRTUE J OR, a really great and beautiful Idea, the reason must be, either that they do not contemplate it in all its relations to Happiness, Virtue, and Duty, or that they allow them- selves 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 impossible that they should not warm towards it; every new representation 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 presentation 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 con- nected with it, there arises reflection in the hearer's mind, not upon the Idea, but upon the orator; 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 4 case of a constant Progress, on the contrary, the effect of what follows is strengthened and OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 183 favored by what precedes, and the effect of what pre- cedes by the effect of what follows.* Thus have we shown, as we flatter ourselves, that through this law of constant Progress, which is ethical in its origin, the chief aim of the Rhetorical presentation of thought, the excitement of Affection, is also reached. But in order to obtain a more thorough insight into the scope and application of the law, we subjoin in addition the following particulars. In the first place, so far as respects this necessary pro- gress 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 describe the character of a person, or a particular posture of things in actual life, should never in his narration exhibit the different quali- ties 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 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 contemplated as a quiet whole, out of this form, and put them into another. Yet this is absolutely necessary; * 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. 184 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, unless it be done, the orator falls away from the Rhe- torical into the Poetical representation, and allows him- self and his hearers a rest that is destructive of all Affection. The descriptions in the orations of the An- cients 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 development 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 move- ment of the oration. The recondite nature of many thoughts, which require unfolding, explanations, argu- ments, 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 development 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 if they must stop the swift current of the oration, and impart to it that slow move- ment, returning into itself, which is peculiar to Philos- ophy. Yet this will not be the case, provided these arguments are brought forward according to the general OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 185 principles laid down in the First Book* Would the orator show the possibility of a thing, he does it by pro- posing a plan, by citing an example, showing that in similar circumstances the like has already been done; would he prove the actuality of a fact, he cites testimony, and establishes its validity. In this way everything 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 author- ity, the weight of which immediately decides the ques- tion ; 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 falling into self- contradiction. In this way Demosthenes constructs his formidable enthymematic trains of reasoning, which, so far from hindering the progress of the orator, are rather to be compared to the lightning, in force and rapidity.f It often happens that a thought, in a position from which the logical arrangement would not displace it, exerts a retarding influence, and interrupts the con- tinuity of the Rhetorical series, because it seems neither to have been sufficiently prepared 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 Elo- * Chapter XL t Note II., p. 213. 16* 186 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, quence ; 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 recognize a gradation in the relative rank of the Rhetorical Ideas. Though Duty, Vir- tue, and Happiness, are 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 the categories Truth, Possibility, and Actuality,* in the order in which they are here men- tioned. Now, in every separate development of a sub- ordinate Idea, if all that pertains to it is not fused with a higher Idea, and interwoven at all points with the development of it, the steady flow of the oration is retarded and checked. Suppose that a sacred orator is discoursing with reference to the categories Truth and Actuality, — e. g., that he wishes to present the events of his time from a religious point of view. Beginning with the development of Truth, he may, provided he has reached a proper place for it, cast a passing glance at Actuality; for description based upon this latter sub- ordinate Idea, if he should begin with it, or should give it a development independent of that of Truth, would be a dead stop, and not progress, and could not well be con- nected either with what followed or with what preceded. An orator before the court, or before the people, com- mits 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 development, entirely uncon- nected with it, of the Idea of Civil or Positive Law, which he ought to have employed only as a corollary and confirmation of the former. "With all the modesty * Book L, Chapters X., XII. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 187 that becomes us Moderns in criticizing the great modeh of Antiquity, I venture to charge ^Eschines with com- mitting this latter error in his oration against Ctesiphon, Inasmuch as his attack upon Demosthenes was in strictness based upon the Idea of Virtue, and inasmuch as he wished to represent his life and character as un- worthy and detestable, it w r as 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 emotionless. 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 forth the Idea of Vir- tue 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 pro- position 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 188 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, 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 plan 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 likewise the oration, considered as a moral product, is never complete 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 approxi- mately ; 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 Progress, 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 constant pro- gressive 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 OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 189 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 that 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 pro- found and penetrating Reason, succeed in so elaborating the thoughts, if they were not guided and supported by the power of the moral 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 interest at all in the elaboration of the unpretending, highly simple 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 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 an effort, since it is satisfied with a loosely- constructed oration garnished with some showy pas- sages. For the hearer is capable of criticizing 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, without 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 190 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE , OR, spoken excellently. That Dernosthenean 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 endeavor to fill the minds of others with those great Ideas in which the orator has lost himself; the endeavor to satisfy his own conscience, and to employ only that which can rightfully contribute towards his success. And what is such an endeavor but the moral power of Character in its finest development and highest dignity ? OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORJC. 191 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 itself under the guidance of certain definite moral Ideas. In this second part of the work, we have sought to become acquainted with the nature of the representations with which the leading Idea of the orator becomes encompassed, as well as w T ith the rules in ac- cordance with which these representations are linked together. We have now to conceive of the active pro- cess of the orator, as it comes forth into language from his inward being, and here we find that his progress in the development 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 individual circumstances ; and we demand that this active process of his, without wavering in its essential character and purpose, 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 presentation of thought. We denominate it the law of Vivacity* Like the former laws that have been mentioned, this law also * The term in the original is Lebendigkeit, and is intended to denote a vital flexibility in thought and diction. The word Vivacity is an inadequate one. — Tr. 192 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, is of Ethical origin, and wholly foreign to the Philo- sophical, as well as the Poetical, presentation of thought. In both of these latter the mind isolates itself, and since it is not its design to exert an influence upon the circum- stances which surround it, so neither does it allow cir- cumstances to exert an influence upon itself. Hence the unvarying uniformity of the state and condition in which it remains from the beginning to the end of its work, allows the mind, in these latter cases, to give to its pro- ducts a fixed, unchangeable form. Moral activity, on the contrary, would entirely preclude such an isolation ; 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 bending the Will to the force of circum- stances, but is in reality the only means of obtaining dominion over them ; their constantly varying pressure w r ould 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 agent, peculiar to moral activity of all sorts, can be per- ceived 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 realization of his Idea. These turns are the so-called rhetorical figures : an ex- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 193 pression which must not be taken to denote mere orna- ments coldly and artificially contrived to set off the dis- course (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 senti- ments of the hearers ; for which reason, perhaps, these latter expressions are preferable, because they are liable to no such misunderstanding. Similar turns arise easily and naturally in the social intercourse of cultivated and lively minds. For since social life of the higher order involves the mutual cultivation of minds through the interchange of views, each man alternately playing the part of the orator and the hearer, it is evident that although from the language of such social life nothing indeed is to be learned in relation to the rhetorical series of representations, because it is, of necessity, fragmen- tary in its matter, yet much is to be learned from it in relation to the turns of thoughts and words, which be- come 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 adapt them to a higher connection. Hence, if the orator would employ figures rightly, he should not bor- row 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 17 194: ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, rather, the orator must realize the hearer to himself with definite features, with all his opposing views and inclina- tions, and represent the whole oratorical process to him- self, not monologically, but dialogically ; then he will know instinctively the proper time* to waken attention, to instruct, to exhort, to show the connection or the oppo- sition of several thoughts, to meet an objection, to hurl it back again, to place a truth in clear light by an unex- pected surprising turn, to pass from one truth to another, to restrain his feelings, to give them full play, etc. Having such a lively sense of his position and relations, and of the changes which he is producing in them by the prog- ress 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 pres- entation 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.f For Affec- tion in the hearer is kindled 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 im- part it to others, than by exhausting all the most lively forms of presentation ? Adaptation, in the discourse, taken by itself alone, would not produce such an im- pression ; even the firmest and most labored chain of thought, unless each link in it were distinguished by a peculiar structure, would, in the end, only weary by a fixed uniformity. But by means of the peculiar, and often surprising turn, in which each new representation is announced, it is made to pierce more deeply into the * Cicero, Orator, 39 et 40. t Jam vero ad affectus nil magis ducit. — Quint. IX. 1. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 195 mind, which, incessantly stimulated on so many sides, is compelled, in the end, to yield itself up without resist- ance to the exercise of Affection. This influence upon the Affections is the distinguishing mark by which we can recognize Rhetorical figures, and can separate them from Poetical. The latter are created by the Imagination for the Imagination ; they are a painting, a picturing, 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 instead 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.f In reading Demosthenes, we shall also perceive most clearly, how great is the difference between Rhetorical and Poetical figures ; for no style can be freer from all * Aristotle (Rhetoric III. 4) remarks that the simile is more suitable in poetry, and that the metaphor is the only ornament in which the orator may indulge. — The reason of this highly truthful and important remark lies in the fact, that the simile is too detailed for the rapid and practical movement of oratory. Eloquence requires that nil illustrative matter be swift and glanc- ing ; simply flashing light, without impeding the progress. The metaphor is the condensed simile, and the simile is the expanded metaphor. Hence the former is the orator's figure, and the latter the poet's. — Tr\ t Cicero Orator, c. 39. — Et vero nullus fere ab eo locus sine quadam con- formatione sentential dicitur. 196 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, that we denominate poetry of expression, than that of Demosthenes. In saying this, however, we would by no means assert, that none of those figures which are com- monly termed Poetical, are to be permitted in an ora- tion. Everything depends upon the application, upon relative position and influence; and it is very possible indeed, that in a different use and connection the figure would at one time depict to the Imagination, at another awaken Affection. There being this difference between Poetical and Rhe- torical figures, the specific enumeration of the former is as proper, 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 innumerable in their manifold- ness ; for their source is in the Imagination 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, complete- ness is attainable. But since the moral activity of man, on the contrary, is constantly conditioned by his relations to the external world, all the changes of which can never be computed, it is impossible to enu- merate 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 circumstances amidst which his activity is put forth. This mistake would never have been made if the ethical OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 197 character of Eloquence had been recognized, 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 Demos- thenes, 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 harmonizes 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 pro- motes, and consequently so greatly hinders, the awaken- ing 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 Quintilian, J awaken an Affection of some sort. Any other use of figures on the part of * Ex collocatione verborum quae sumuntur quasi lumina, magnum affe- runt ornatum orationi. — Cicero, Orator, c. 39. — Major pars barum figura- rum posita est in delectatione. — Quintilian, IX. 3. t Obstat enim quidquid non adjuvat. — ■ Quintilian, VIII. 6. X Quot verba, totidem affectus. — Quint. IX. 3. 17* 198 the orator would betray a departure frorti his purpose, i. e. } a moral weakness, and instead of contributing to his design, would only stand in its way, i. e., would leave the mind cold, instead of warming it. Furthermore, figures, which consist in peculiar turns of thought, are likewise subject to those laws of Adap- tation 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 impression,. this unsuitable application of them will hinder and destroy their influence. And since, in order to prevent Affection from becoming chilled, 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 Rhetorical 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 genius, but only to a weakness of character. It is vanity, if the orator is profuse in figures for the sake of show and ornament ; it is obtuseuiess of moral feeling, OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 199 if the orator employs them unsuitably; it is sluggishness, incapacity of enthusiasm in respect to lofty Ideas, if the orator does not understand 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 opposed to the faults above mentioned, will the orator be enabled 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. 200 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ] OR, CHAPTER VIII. PROSE. 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 characteristic, it acquires a still higher sig- nificance, 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, every word has worth, not only by virtue of its sense, but also by virtue of its sound and its mere ex- OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 201 istence ; the most important and the most unimportant words, in respect to sense, as integral parts of the same whole, have equal rank, like citizens of a free State. In Prose, on the contrary, the worth of words differs accord- ing to their sense ; in every sentence there are one or more words which, by their peculiar position, are ele- vated and placed in the light, so that the others are sub- ordinate 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 characteristics. Metre, though adapted to the Idea, yet appears as something independent in itself, and seeks to attract attention to itself, aside from the thoughts and feelings expressed through it. Hence it not merely determines, with the greatest exactness, the number and succession of long and short syllables ; it also separates them into individual metrical members, the frequent repetition of which, impresses their peculiar 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 syllables which compose the individual line, and by the regular recurrence of the same sound at the end of the verse. Number, on the contrary, far from separating itself from the 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 succes- sion of tones too striking and too agreeable to the ear, 202 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, should attract attention from the Matter to the Form. Number, therefore, arranges the succession and number of long and short syllables, only so far as is necessary in order that the impression of the discourse upon the sen- suous 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 agreeable sensation at all, or has been offended.* And that number 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 Mat- ter, 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 de- duce such a form of discourse, and show that it must be constituted so, and not otherwise ? This problem seems never to have been proposed even, while yet a similar one respecting the forms of Poetry has employed many theorizers, and has been successfully 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 con- venience 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. And this does not arise from their intrinsic difficulty, for finished Prose has its peculiar excellences, and, con- sequently, its difficulties also, which are not easier to master than those of versification. If, now, Prose is to * See Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works, p. 455. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 203 maintain itself as a peculiar 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 men- tion that this principle is not justifiable in itself, it could not, even if it were correct, find its application here, be- cause although Prose and Verse indeed differ from each other, they by no means constitute a proper antithesis, the members of which run parallelto 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 con- strued from ethical principles. In deriving the rules to which the moral activity of man, so far as it makes use of discourse for its purposes, is subjected, we had arrived at the law of Vivacity; while we further develop 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 Vi- vacity, 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 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 pf a change in the mental state, — a change which is required in the prator, but not allowable in the poet, since 204 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE J OR, he purposes to exhibit only one and the same tone of mind. With the same right that figures hi the thought are assumed in Rhetoric, we believe we may assume figures in the period, which are to be distinguished still further from figures in the language. Moreover, 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 an- tithesis, 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 influ- ence 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 euch other, so as to form one uniform mass, it is evident that those particular 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 em- phasis laid upon the most important words, — such as the substantive, adjective, verb, — explained, but also the origin of the more exquisite figures of speech, — such as paranomasia, paradiastole, antanaclasis, epa- node, diaphora, homceoptoton, etc. The use of these figures in Poetry, is condemned of right, because in Poetry the essential thing is not the distinguishing 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\, the homceop- toton, from which rhyme seems to have arisen, — it has yet entirely altered it; for in Prose, a proposition is indi- vidualized by the homceoptoton ; in Poetry, the metrical lines are linked and united together by rhyme. OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 205 Finally, in the third place, the law of Vivacity per- mits neither metre, nor rhyme, nor the numeration of syllables ; for through these, the outward form of pre- sentation acquires a repose and an evenness of pro- portion, it expresses a complacency, which, indeed, be- longs necessarily to the finished unfolding of poetical ideas, but which must ever be foreign to the active pro- cess of the orator, which is full of Affection in itself, and seeks to awaken Affection in the hearer. Nevertheless, 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, and the more rapid flight of others, and this difference must be made per- ceptible to the mind through the ear, the law of Viva- city 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 occu- pying the mind at the expense of the thought. For if this were the case, the orator would betray a compla- cency which is proper 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. 18 206 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 references 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 pre- senting 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 thus far, to form a judg- ment respecting the correctness 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 subjects connected with Eloquence, of which we have not treated. SUPPLEMENT. Note I. Pase 176. The frequent allusions by Theremin to Demosthenes will receive additional illustration from the following sketch of " The Rhetorical Character of Demosthenes," which we translate from another work of his, published under the title of Demosthenes und Massillon. A con- densed summary of this work, which the author intended should be the concrete statement of his systematic theory, as seen realized in the two masters of Grecian and French Eloquence, may be found in the Bibliotheca Sacra, Vol. VI. pp, 1 — 26. — Tr. " From the foregoing representation, it follows that even if his char- acter cannot be cleared of all stain, yet the praise of energy, decision, perseverance, and self-denial for his country, is due in the highest degree to Demosthenes ; that he succeeded in impressing the stamp of these virtues upon his Eloquence, anö! that to them it owes its high and wonderful excellence. He himself seems to have regarded the moral state of the orator as his most important qualification. This is evident from a remark, made under very grave circumstances, and one that puts the necessary qualification upon that famous dictum of his respect- ing " delivery," which we have already cited. " It is not the words of the orator that are most worthy of admiration," — he says in the Ora- tion for the Crown, — " nor the tones of his voice, but it is the fact that he has the same aims with the people, and the same objects of hatred and love with his father-land." We shall now endeavor to group the principal features of the Elo- quence of Demosthenes in a brief sketch. In no one of these can the moral origin be mistaken ; and as we proceed with the delineation, it will seem as if we were describing the inmost and essential nature of Eloquence, and not the peculiarity of an orator. The first characteristic in the Eloquence of Demosthenes, — which might also be the first in the ideal of Eloquence, — is that his own 208 SUPPLEMENT. personality and all regard to the applause of the auditor, are wholly sacrificed to the matter in hand, to the aim and object of the discourse. No orator of ancient or modern times has practised this austere self- denial in an equal degree. But this is confessedly a moral quality, and in most men finds an insuperable hindrance in self-love and vanity. Ordinarily the orator, while he moves forward to the goal, will not neglect to pluck many a flower on the way, and by port and gesture exhibit himself most advantageously to his hearers. If Cicero is in- ferior to Demosthenes, it is principally owing to a vanity that protrudes his personality with a prominence disproportioned to the subject matter. Not so Demosthenes. He would not shine, but reach his aim ; he would not win, but carry away the hearer ; he does not seek the hearer's applause, but his assent. All merely outward embellishments, with which even christian orators overload and deck their discourse, often in an offensive degree, are ever contemned in the most decided man- ner by this heathen orator. In this his greatness mainly lies. But it is precisely this greatness which is the cause that we do not fully appre- ciate him, and that he does not come up to our expectations. We demand of the orator, that he exhibit his subject to us by means of ornaments that do not belong to it ; we demand of him paint, false curls, and a drapery rich in folds. Where we see nothing but muscles, sinews, and naked limbs, we complain of dryness. That the Athe- nians not merely endured Demosthenes but declared him to be the first of orators, shows that, even in the time of their decline, they were superior to the cultivated nations of the present day in the right esti- mation of things. Perhaps no one has so correctly apprehended, and so well des- cribed, the characteristic of the eloquence of Demosthenes just men- tioned, as Fenelon, who, in his " Dialogues of the Dead," makes De- mosthenes speak to Cicero as follows : " You turned the attention of the hearers to your own person ; I turned it solely to the subject upon which I spoke. You were admired by them ; they forgot me while they thought only of the resolution to which I would determine them. You furnished them an intellectual entertainment ; I smote, I hurled down, I dashed in pieces like a thunderbolt. When they had heard you they exclaimed : ' How finely he has spoken ! ' When they had heard me they cried : ' Up ! war against Philip ! ' You they praised ; when I had spoken they were so carried away that they did not think of praising me. You adorned your orations ; in mine they discovered SUPPLEMENT. 209 no ornament ; they found in them only definite, forcible, distinct argu- ments, and then applications of them like lightning, which they could not resist." If Demosthenes confines himself closely to his subject, he has never- theless completely investigated it ; he has contemplated it upon all sides, and in all relations ; he has searched it through in all directions, and has penetrated into all its recesses. All the grounds and reasons that make for his purpose, and which are discoverable, he has discovered, and explored carefully ; of all that can be used and applied for his advantage, not the least thing has escaped him. The treasures which he has gained by this labor, which he has dug up and brought to the light, out of the subject itself, put him in a condition to despise all that is foreign to the thing in hand. We caimot but be astonished at the richness of the materials which stand at his command. When we have read half through one of his longer orations, — that against Leptines, that against Midias, the one for the Crown, — we think that now, certainly, the subject is completely exhausted. But we are mis- taken ; the most forcible reasons, the most stunning thunder-claps have not yet come, and we are still to be astounded by them. He has such a superabundance of arguments that he sometimes wastes a very effective one in order to fill up a pause caused by the clerk, when he cannot immediately lay his hand upon a law-paper which must be read before proceeding further. Still greater and more glorious trea- sures than Demosthenes found in the subjects handled by him, are to be found in those which belong to the sphere of Sacred Eloquence ; but just as great singleness of eifort, in searching, and toiling, is needed in order to bring them out of the depths where they lie* But such richness of thought must be elaborated. And here, it is not enough to distribute the thoughts under certain heads, and to avoid all infringements of logical rules. On the contrary, every thought must have that place to which it is carried by what precedes, and where it carries what follows ; where it does not stop but propagates the previous movement ; where it is not only immediately understood by the hearer, but also strengthens his convictions, and heightens his emotions. The thoughts of the orator must be waves, of which one urges on another. But this is possible, only when, according to psy- chological laws, their series corresponds to the series of thoughts and feelings they are to evoke in the hearer. This disposition and arrange- ment of thought demands as great effort, and labor, as was necessary in order to its production. In this excellence also, which indeed 18* 210 SUPPLEMENT. lies very deep, and can be known only by a fundamental study of his works, Demosthenes surpasses all other orators. His thoughts form a concluded series, no member of .which could change its place without injury to the whole ; and as they follow one another consecu- tively, so the thoughts and feelings which are to be excited by them in the hearer, follow one another, and develop themselves, in the most natural manner. The hearer is in the very beginning seized upon by a wholesome and salutary power, to which the best faculties of his being yield themselves without resistance ; and since he is led along on a path where there is neither hindrance nor interruption, he follows on, step by step, to the end, not only because he must follow, but also because he follows willingly and gladly. This firmly linked chain of thought, is, in Demosthenes, made red- hot with the most live fire of emotion. That the Ancients knew how to estimate this excellence in his eloquence, is clear from the above- cited passage of Dionysius, who confesses that he was transported into a Corybantic inspiration, by him. In modern times, we are inclined to deny him this excellence. We seem to take him for a cold and arid man, who, according to the favorite phrase, addresses himself only to the understanding, and not to the heart, and with whom the whole problem is, upon grounds of reason, to convince of the justice of his cause, and the utility of his propositions. Were this so, he had lacked the most essential characteristic of the orator, and we should not have had cause to wonder at his torrent-like power ; for we are not carried away by mere conviction but by impassioned conviction. Now it is indeed true, that he always satisfies the requisitions of the under- standing, — nay, that he usually puts his thoughts into the enthyme- matic form. But is it a fact that thought is incompatible with feeling ? Rather, is not the connection of ideas a thread by which the fire of emotion runs down so much the easier ? Is not feeling the nobler, and therefore the mightier also, in noble natures, the more it is borne up by thought ? Is it not a modern judgment, that feeling necessarily presupposes confusion of thought ? One may not indeed seek the softer and tenderer feelings in Demosthenes, — the struggle against Philip afforded him little opportunity for their unfolding. But if one seeks the strong, masculine feelings, — love for native country, enthu- siasm for the glory of noble deeds, hatred against all that is wrong, indignation against selfishness and perfidy, — the words of Demos- thenes, more than any other human words, are pervaded by the fire of those affections; and it still glows on in them, notwithstanding the lapse of so many centuries, enough to fire every noble heart. SUPPLEMENT. 211 To this perfection of Matter, in Demosthenes, perfection of Form is correspondent. The highest praise, in this respect, is ascribed to him by the critics of antiquity, especially by Dionysius. His style, says this critic, is not the rough and hard style of Thucydides, nor the soft and polished style of Isocrates, but he struck a happy mean between both. In this he is to be compared with Sophocles, who stands in a similar relation to Aeschylus on the one hand, and Euripides on the other. In fact, confinement to one of either of these two extremes would have been a onesidedness highly prejudicial to an orator who was to call up, and delineate the most diverse emotions. This freedom which Demosthenes aims at, and reaches, is nevertheless not licen- tiousness. On the contrary, his prose is, in its kind, as perfect and finished as metrical composition. For example, the greatest attention is bestowed by Demosthenes upon the sequence of long and short syl- lables ; not in order to produce a regularly recurring metre, but in order to express the most diverse emotions of the mind by a suitable and ever varying rythm. It may be remarked in general, that by the study of Demosthenes and the ancient critics, w T e are introduced to marvels of prose style at which we cannot but be astonished. The ex- hibition of them would be impossible without the aid of the Greek originals, and would exceed our design in this sketch. As, in Demos- thenes, the prose rythm never passes over into a poetical metre, so also his language, as to its elements, never loses itself in the sphere of poetry, but remains, as the language of rhetorical discourse ever should, that of common life and cultivated society ; and the uncommon charm of this rhetorical prose lies precisely in the fact, that these sim- ple elements of speech are treated with the same care which, usually, only the poet is wont to devote to diction. Demosthenes himself was well aware of this study which he bestowed upon his style, and he required it of the orator. It is not enough, said he, that the orator in order to prepare for delivery in public, write down his thoughts ; he must as'it were, have sculptured them in brass.* The comparison of prose composition with sculpture appears to have been a favorite one with the ancient critics generally, as Dionysius also remarks of Demosthenes, Plato, and Isocrates, " their productions were not so much works of writing, as of carving and embossing." f The modern * Dicet scripta quam res patietur plurima, et, ut Demosthenes ait, si con- tinget, et sculpta. — Quintilian, XII. 9, 16. t*AAA«s T€ Kcd ruv t6tc avSp&Troou ob ypairroTs, aWa yAvirTo?s Kat ropevroTs *o{k6tols iK(pep6vTuv \6yovs. Dionysius, De compositione verborum XXV. 212 SUPPLEMENT. world takes a totally different view of this subject. It is of opinion that he who is entirely filled with his idea cannot possibly expend so great care upon the Form ; and, in the instance of the orator parti- cularly, any art shown in style is a sign that he is less anxious for the profit of his hearers, than for their applause. But, on the contrary, one might ask whether such care expended upon the Form is not necessary for the very sake of the Matter, — necessary in order to present it to the view of the hearer in untroubled purity and clear- ness ? We seem to assume, that in such sedulousness, Form and Mat- ter must necessarily separate from each other, and the Form become a thing for and by itself, which we seek to adorn, without regard to the Matter. But that this is by no means necessary, the example of Demosthenes proves, against whom, most certainly, this objection can- not be brought. On the contrary, the fault, which the Moderns too frequently commit, of giving the Form an ornament independent of the Matter, is not to be imputed to art, but to the want of art ; for in the estimation of true art, the most perfect Form is nothing but the clearest and boldest translucence of the Material itself." Lord Brougham also notices this attention to diction by the great or- ators of antiquity, in his " Dissertation upon the Eloquence of the An- cients. 9 * " We perceive," he remarks, " the exquisite care taken by the ancient orators to strike and to please their audience, in the attention paid by them to the rythm or numbers of their periods. In the an- cient institutes of Rhetoric, that subject forms a separate and impor- tant head, which, or even the mention of which, would scarcely be borne among us. It must at the same time be observed, that although we are so suspicious of whatever would give an appearance of theat- rical display to the business of debate, our greatest orators, neverthe- less, have excelled by a careful attention to rythm, and some of the finest passages of modern eloquence owe their unparalleled success undeniably to the adoption of those Iambic measures which thrilled and delighted the Roman Forum, and the Dactylus and Paeonicus, which were the luxury of the Attic Ecclesia. Witness the former in Mr. Erskines celebrated passage respecting the Indian chief, and the latter in Mr. Grattan's peroration to his speech on Irish independence." SUPPLEMENT. 213 Note IL Page 185. " It is a common thing," says Lord Brougham, " with those who, because Cicero is % more ornate, suffers the artifice of his composition to appear more plainly, and indulges more in amplification, imagine that he is less argumentative than the Greek orators, to represent the latter, and especially Demosthenes, as distinguished by great closeness of reasoning. If by this is only meant that he never wanders from the subject, that each remark tells upon the matter in hand, that all his illustrations are brought to bear upon the point, and that he is never found making any step, in any direction, which does not advance his main object, and lead towards the conclusion to which he is striv- ing to bring his hearers, the observation is perfectly just ; for this is a distinguishing feature in the character of his eloquence. It is not, indeed, his grand excellence, because everything depends upon the manner in which he pursues this course, the course itself being one quite as open to the humblest mediocrity as to the highest genius. But if it is meant to be said that those Attic orators, and especially their great chief, made speeches in which long chains of elaborate rea- soning are to be found, nothing can be less like the truth. A variety of topics are handled in succession, all calculated to strike the audience. Passions which predominated in their minds are appealed to, feelings easily excited among them are aroused by skilful allusions, glaring inconsistencies are shown in the advice given by others, sometimes by exhibiting the repugnance of those councils among themselves, some- times contrasting them with other counsels proceeding from the same quarters. The pernicious tendency of certain measures is displayed by referring, sometimes to the general principles of human action, and the course which human affairs usually take ; more frequently, by a reference to the history of past, and generally of very recent events. Much invective is mixed with these topics, and both the enemy without, and the evil counsellor within the walls, are unsparingly dealt with. The orator was addressing hearers who were for the most part as in- timately acquainted as himself with all the facts of the case, and these lay within a sufficiently narrow compass, being the actual state of public affairs, and the victories or the defeats which had, within the memory of all, attended their arms, or the transactions which had taken place among them in very recent times. No detailed statements 214 SUPPLEMENT. were therefore wanted for their information. He was really speaking to them respecting their own affairs, or rather respecting what they had just been doing or witnessing themselves. Hence a very short allusion alone was generally required to raise the idea which he de- sired to present before his audience. Sometimes a word was enough for his purpose : the naming oi a man or a town : the calling to their recollection what had been done by the one. or had happened to the other. The effect produced by such a rapid interchange of ideas and impressions, must have struck every one who has been preser.' public meetings. He will have remarked that some such apt allusion has a power, produces an electrical effect, not to be reached by any chain of reasoning, however close, and that even the most highly wrought passages, and the most exquisite composition, fall far short of it in rousing or controlling the minds of a large assembly. Chains of reasoning, examples of fine argumentation, are calculated to pro- duce their effect upon a far nicer, a more confined, and a more select audience. But such apposite allusions, such appropriate topics, such happy hits, (to use a homely but expressive phrase), have a sure, an irresistible, a magical effect upon a popular assembly. — Dissertation on the Eloquence of the And: Us. QUESTIONS Mention the primary characteristics of Eloquence. Which one is to be selected as furnishing its fundamental and constituent principle ? Practical effect of selecting either of its other affinities as its fundamental principle 1 Distinctive difference between a product within the provinces of philosophy and poetry, and one within that of practical life ? Proof from the examples of Sophocles and Demosthenes, that the productive agency of the orator lies in the sphere of active life % Inference from this with regard to the essen- tial nature of Eloquence ? What is meant by saying that Eloquence is a Virtue ? Relation of knowledge, culture, and special training, to Eloquence ? Illustrate by refer- ence to the art of painting. Explain the relation of the orator to the hearer, and the consequent nature of the influence he is to exert upon him. State the highest and most general law of Eloquence. Mention the general Ideas to be assumed by the orator as necessarily existing in every hearer. Parti- cular modifications which they undergo in the spheres of Church and State ? Mention the three species of orations assumed by the Ancient Rheto- ricians. Coincidence of this division with the theory of the Author ? Con- nection between the Ethical theory of Eloquence, and the success of the Orator ? Reasons why an appeal to the Passions is not so likely to succeed, as an address to the Moral Ideas ? Mention the subordinate Ideas or Cate- gories. Explain the manner in which they enter into the structure of an oration. The particular species of oration in which each is prominent % Effect of making either one of them predominant in an oration ? Distinction between the Rhetorical and the Philosophical presentation of truth ? Does the oration admit of a strictly philosophical demonstration of truth 1 How is truth to be established in Rhetorical discourse ? Define the term popularity, in relation to the orator. Connection of morality, or strength of character, in the orator, with the existence of this quality in the oration ? Relation of the above-mentioned Ideas and Categories to the Plan and Division of an oration 1 Advantage of this method of constructing the doctrine of the Plan % Define the simple oration ; the complex. Define the Exordium. Its distinguishing characteristics ? What tends to lengthen the Exordium 1 Is practice to be uniform with regard to the preännounce- ment of the parts of the development in an oration ? Did the Ancients observe this practice 1 Why ? Principle upon which the division of the simple oration should proceed ? Illustrate by a sermon of Reinhardt, What peculiarity in the manner of announcing the division, in the French 216 QUESTIONS. preachers? Effect liable to result from this? How many parts has the 4 complex oration ? Relation of the Will and Character to Eloquence ? Illustrate by the examples of Demosthenes, and the younger Cato. Defini- tion of the Orator by the elder Cato, according to Quintilian ? Define Elocution or Style, in distinction from Invention. Eaults in the treatment of this part of Rhetoric, by the Ancients ? Peculiarity in the cir- cumstances of the Ancient Orator, contributing to this ? Example of De- mosthenes, in regard to the employment of artifices in Elocution ? Distinc- tion between Affection and Passion ? To what must the orator confine himself, in case he does not awaken and address the Affections of his hearers ? Consequences of this ? Connection between Affection and Action in the hearer ? By what Idea are the affections of Zeal, Shame, Penitence, and Anger generated 1 How may they degenerate into Passions ? Defect in Aristotle's treatment of this part of the subject ? Define Wit in relation to Affection and Enthusiasm. What consequently is its general relation to Elo- quence ? The most valid reason for employing it, mentioned by Cicero ? Confirmation of this view of Wit, derived from a comparison of Demos- thenes with Cicero ? Why may not the Philosophical, or the Poetical, presentation of thought, be employed by the orator, in order to produce Affection in the hearer ? Mention the three Laws which impel and regulate the Rhetorical presenta- tion of thought. Define the law of Adaptation. Essential nature of this law, and its connection with Affection in the hearer ? What does this law prescribe with respect to the hearer's power of comprehension ? With re- spect to language ? With respect to phrases and images ? Importance of knowledge and culture in this respect ? Mention the chief causes which pre- vent the orator from adapting his oration to the individuality of the hearer. How far may the orator venture, in dealing with the faults of his auditors ? Illustrate by Demosthenes, and the French preachers of the age of Louis XIV. Are brilliancy and high coloring characteristic of the highest style of Eloquence ? What examples in Ancient and Modern Oratory prove this ? Define the law of Constant Progress. Its essential nature ? Effect of a stop in the progress of an oration ? The surest means of securing constant pro- gress ? Maxim in relation to the employment of Narration and Description ? Ground of the maxim ? What does the law of Constant Progress prescribe respecting the development of individual thoughts in an oration ? Manage- ment of arguments according to this law ? Relation of strength of Charac- ter, in the orator, to progress in the oration ? Define the law of Vivacity. Its essential nature ? The true source whence figures should be derived ? Distinctive difference between Poetical and Rhetorical tropes ? To what law is the employment of figures to be subjected ? Example of Demos- thenes? Distinctive difference between Prose and Poetry-? Between Number and Metre? Explain the origin and construction of Prose on ethical principles. *> '*. ■^ & %■ V ^o. o ■° * c ^ %^