is founded in arbitrary principles and local prejudices. For, though
his expression had been general, he knew very well that his thesis
admitted some limitation; having directly affirmed of _the various modes
of eloquence_, not that they were altogether and in all respects, but
MOSTLY, _fantastical_ (p. 67), which, though you are pleased to charge
it upon him as an _inconsistency_[152], the reader sees is only a
necessary qualification of his general thesis, such as might be expected
in so exact a writer as the learned Bishop. He now then attends to this
limitation, and considers what effect it would have on his main theory.
‘It will be said, _Are there not some more substantial principles of
eloquence, common to all_ the various species that have obtained in the
world?—Without doubt, there are.—Why then should not these have been
employed, to do credit to the Apostolic inspiration? For good reasons:
respecting both the speaker and the hearers. For, what _is_ eloquence
but a persuasive turn given to the elocution to supply that inward, that
conscious persuasion of the speaker, so necessary to gain a fair hearing?
But the first preachers of the Gospel did not need a succedaneum to that
inward conscious persuasion. And what is the _end_ of eloquence, even
when it extends no further than to those more general principles, but to
stifle reason and inflame the passions? But the propagation of Christian
truths indispensably requires the aid of reason, and requires no other
human aid[153].’
Here, again, you are quite scandalized at the Bishop’s paradoxical
assertions concerning the _nature_ and _end_ of eloquence; and you differ
as widely from him now he argues on the supposition of there being _some
more substantial principles of eloquence_, as you did before, when he
contended that _most_ of those we call principles were arbitrary and
capricious things. You even go so far as to insult him with a string
of questions, addressed _ad hominem_: for, having quoted some passages
from his book, truly eloquent and rhetorical, you think you have him at
advantage, and can now confute him out of his own mouth.
“Can any thing,” you ask, “be more brilliant, more enlivened, more truly
rhetorical, than these passages? What then are we to think of the writer
and his intentions? Is he really sincere in his reasoning? or are these
eloquent forms of speech so many marks of falshood? Were they assumed as
_a succedaneum to conscious persuasion_? And is the end and design of
them to _stifle reason and inflame the passions_[154]?”
To blunt the edge of these sharp and pressing interrogatories, give
me leave to observe that the main question agitated by the Bishop is,
whether divine inspiration can be reasonably expected to extend so
far as to infuse a perfect model of eloquence, and to over-rule the
inspired Apostles in such sort, as that all they write or speak should be
according to the rules of the most consummate rhetoric. He resolves this
question in the _negative_: _first_, by shewing that there is no such
thing as what would be deemed a perfect model of eloquence subsisting in
nature; a great part of what is called eloquence in all nations being
arbitrary and chimerical; and, _secondly_, by shewing that even those
principles, which may be justly thought more substantial, were, for
certain reasons, not deserving the solicitous and over-ruling care of a
divine inspirer. His reasons are these: _First_, that eloquence, when
most genuine, _is but a persuasive turn given to the elocution to supply
that inward, that conscious persuasion of the speaker, so necessary to
gain a fair hearing, and which the first preachers of the Gospel had
already_, by the influence and impression of the holy Spirit upon their
minds: And, _next, that the end of eloquence, even when it extends no
further than to those more general principles, is but to stifle reason
and inflame the passions_; an _end_ of a suspicious sort, and which
the propagation of Christian truths, the proper business of the sacred
writers or speakers, did not require.
You see these _reasons_, in whatever defective, are both of them founded
in _one common_ principle, which the Bishop every where goes upon, and
the best philosophy warrants, That, when the Deity interposes in human
affairs, he interposes no further than is _necessary_ to the end in
view, and leaves every thing else to the intervention and operation of
second causes. The Apostles wanted NO succedaneum to an inward conscious
persuasion, which the observance of the general principles of eloquence
supplies; they were not, therefore, supernaturally instructed in them.
They wanted NO assistance from a power that tends _to stifle reason and
inflame the passions_: it was not, therefore, miraculously imparted to
them. Every thing here is rational, and closely argued. What was not
necessary was not done. Not a word about the inconvenience and inutility,
in all cases, of recurring to the rules and practice of a chaste
eloquence: not a word to shew that, where eloquence is employed, there is
nothing but fraud and _falshood_, no inward persuasion, no consciousness
of truth: not a word to insinuate that either you or the Bishop should
be restrained from being as eloquent on occasion as you might have it
in your power to be, or might think fit: nay, not a word against the
Apostles themselves having recourse to the aids of human eloquence, if
they had access to them, and found them expedient; only these aids were
not REQUIRED, that is, were not to be claimed or expected from divine
inspiration.
Thus stands the Bishop’s reasoning, perfectly clear and just. The only
room for debate is, whether his ideas of the _nature_ and _end_ of
eloquence be just, too. _Eloquence_, he says, _is but a persuasive turn
given to the elocution, to supply that inward, that conscious persuasion
of the speaker, so necessary to gain a fair hearing_. The general
affirmation you do not, indeed cannot, reject or controvert; for, the
great master of eloquence himself confirms it in express words—_Tum
optimè dicit orator, cum_ VIDETUR _vera dicere_. QUINCTIL. l. iv. c. 2.
And, again, _Semper ita dicat_, TANQUAM _de causâ optimè sentiat_. l.
v. c. 13; that is, an inward conscious persuasion is to be supplied by
the speaker’s art. The Bishop’s idea then of the _nature_ of eloquence
is, as far as I can see, the very same idea which QUINCTILIAN had of it.
Both agree, that eloquence is _such a turn of the elocution as supplies
that inward conscious persuasion so necessary to the speaker’s success_.
The Bishop adds, that this _supply_ the inspired writers did not want.
But you will say, perhaps, that merely human writers may have this
_inward conscious persuasion_, as well as the inspired. What then? if
human writers can do without this succedaneum, which human eloquence
supplies to inward persuasion, who obliges them to have recourse to
it? Yes, but they cannot do _so well_ without it. Who then forbids
them to have recourse to it? For, neither are the inspired writers
barred of this privilege: only, as being simply UNNECESSARY, it was not
præternaturally supplied. Your perplexity on this subject arises from
not distinguishing between what is _absolutely necessary_, and what is
_sometimes expedient_: Divine inspiration provides only for the _first_;
the _latter_ consideration belongs to human prudence.
But it would be, further, a mistake to say, _that merely human writers
have their inward conscious persuasion as well as the divine_. They may
have it, indeed, from the conclusions of their own reason, but have they
it in the same degree of strength and vivacity, have they the same _full
assurance of faith_, as those who have truth immediately impressed upon
them by the hand of God? I suppose, not.
But the Bishop’s idea of the END of eloquence revolts you as much as
his idea of its _nature_. _What_, says he, _is the_ END _of eloquence,
even when it extends no further than to those more general principles,
but to stifle reason and inflame the passions_? And what other end, I
pray you, can it have? You will say, To adorn, recommend, and enforce
truth. It may be so, sometimes: this, we will say, is its more legitimate
end. But even this end is not accomplished but by _stifling reason
and inflaming the passions_: that is, eloquence prevents reason from
adverting _simply_ to the truth of things, and to the force of evidence;
and it does this by agitating and disturbing the natural and calm
state of the mind with rhetorical _diminutions or amplifications_. VIS
_oratoris_ OMNIS, says QUINCTILIAN, _in_ AUGENDO MINUENDOQUE _consistit_.
[l. viii. c. 3. sub fin.] Now what is this but _stifling reason_? But
it goes further: it _inflames the passions_, the ultimate end it has in
view from _stifling reason_, or putting it of its guard. And for this,
again, we have the authority of QUINCTILIAN, _affectibus perturbandus
et ab intentione auferendus orator. Non enim solum oratoris est docere,
sed plus eloquentia_ CIRCA MOVENDUM _valet_. l. iv. c. 5. Or, would
you see a passage from the great master of rhetoric, where his _idea_
of this double end of eloquence is given, at once; it follows in these
words—_Ubi_ ANIMIS _judicum_ VIS _afferenda est, et_ AB IPSA VERI
CONTEMPLATIONE _abducenda mens_, IBI PROPRIUM ORATORIS OPUS EST. l.
vi. c. 2. That is, where the _passions are to be inflamed, and reason
stifled, there is the proper use and employment of the rhetorical art_.
So exactly has the Bishop traced the footsteps of the great master, when
he gave us his idea of the END of eloquence!
Well, but this _end_, you say, is IMMORAL. So much the worse for
your system; for such is the undoubted end of eloquence, even by the
confession of its greatest patrons and advocates themselves. But what?
Is this end immoral in all cases? And have you never then heared, _that
the passions_, as wicked things as they are, _may be set on the side of
truth_? In short, Eloquence, like Ridicule, which is, indeed, no mean
part of it, may be either well or ill employed; and though it cannot be
truly said that the end of either is simply _immoral_, yet it cannot be
denied that what these _modes of address_ propose to themselves in ALL
cases is, _to stifle reason and inflame the passions_.
The Bishop’s idea, then, of the end of eloquence, I presume, is fairly
and fully justified. But your complaint now is, that the Bishop does not
himself abide by this idea. For you find a contradiction between what his
Lordship says here—_that the_ END _of eloquence, even when it extends
no further than to those more general principles, is but to style
reason and inflame the passions_, and what he says elsewhere—_that the_
PRINCIPAL _end of eloquence_, AS IT IS EMPLOYED IN HUMAN AFFAIRS, _is to
mislead reason and to cajole the fancy and affections_[155]. But these
propositions are perfectly consistent; nor was the _latter_ introduced
so much as for the purpose of _qualifying and palliating_ any thing
that might be deemed offensive in the _former_. For though eloquence,
chastely employed, goes no further than to _stifle reason and inflame the
passions_ (and the chastest eloquence, if it deserves the name, goes thus
far), yet _the principal end of eloquence, as it is employed in human
affairs_, is to _mislead_ reason, which is something more than _stifling_
it; and to _cajole_, which is much worse than to _inflame_, the passions.
Reason may be STIFLED, and the passions INFLAMED, when the speaker’s
purpose is to inculcate _right and truth_: Reason is only in danger of
being MISLED, and the fancy and affections of being CAJOLED, when wrong
and error are enforced by him. So very inaccurate was your conception of
the Bishop’s expression! which I should not have explained so minutely,
but to shew you that, when you undertook to expose such a writer, as
the Bishop, you should have studied his expression with more care, and
should have understood the force of words at another rate, than you seem
to have done in this instance.
Still you will ask, if the _end_ be so legitimate, why should not the
inspired writers be trusted with this powerful engine of human eloquence?
The Bishop gives several reasons: It is a _suspicious instrument_, p.
57. It was an _improper_ instrument for heaven-directed men, whose
strength was not to be derived from _the wisdom of men_, but from _the
power of God_, p. 59. But the direct and immediate answer is contained,
as I observed, in these words—_The propagation of Christian truths
indispensably requires the aid of reason, and requires no other aid_.
1. Christianity, which is _a reasonable service_, was of necessity to
be propagated by force of reason; in the Bishop’s better expression, IT
INDISPENSABLY REQUIRED THE AID OF REASON; but _Reason_, he tells us in
the next words, _can never be fairly and vigorously exerted but in that
favourable interval which precedes the appeal to the passions_. 2. The
Propagation of Christianity, which indispensably required the aid of
reason, REQUIRED NO OTHER HUMAN AID: that is, no other human means were
simply REQUISITE or NECESSARY. God, therefore, was pleased to leave
his inspired servants to the prudential use and exercise of their own
natural or acquired talents; but would not supernaturally endow them with
this _unnecessary_ power of eloquent words. The inspired writers, even
the most learned and, by nature, the most eloquent of them, made a very
sparing use of such talents, _proudly sacrificing them_, as the Bishop
nobly and eloquently says, _to the glory of the everlasting Gospel_.
But as the _end_ was not, so neither was the _use_ of eloquence, simply
immoral or evil in itself. They were considerations of _propriety_,
_prudence_, and _piety_, which restrained the Apostles generally, but not
always, in the use of eloquence; which was less _decent_ in their case,
and which they could very well do without. When the same considerations
prompt other men, under other circumstances, to affect the way of
eloquence, it may safely, and even commendably, for any thing the Bishop
has said on this subject as it concerns divine inspiration, be employed.
Admitting then the Bishop’s ideas both of the _nature_ and _end_ of
eloquence, the _want_ of this character in the sacred writings is only
vindicated, not _the thing itself_ interdicted or disgraced.
The conclusion from the whole of what the Bishop has advanced on this
argument, follows in these words:
‘What, therefore, do our ideas of fit and right tell us is required in
the _style_ of an universal law? Certainly no more than this—To employ
those aids which are common to _all_ language as such; and to reject
what is peculiar to _each_, as they are casually circumstanced. And
what are these aids but CLEARNESS and PRECISION? By these, the mind and
sentiments of the Composer are intelligibly conveyed to the reader. These
qualities are essential to language, as it is distinguished from jargon:
they are eternally the same, and independent on custom or fashion. To
give a language _clearness_ was the office of Philosophy; to give it
_precision_ was the office of Grammar. Definition performs the first
service by a resolution of the ideas which make up the terms: Syntaxis
performs the second by a combination of the several parts of speech into
a systematic congruity: these are the very things in language which are
least positive, as being conducted on the principles of metaphysics and
logic. Whereas, all besides, from the very power of the elements, and
signification of the terms, to the tropes and figures of composition,
are arbitrary; and, what is more, as these are a deviation from those
principles of metaphysics and logic, they are frequently vicious. This,
the great master quoted above [QUINCTILIAN] freely confesseth, where
speaking of that ornamented speech, which he calls σχήματα λέξεως,
he makes the following confession and apology—esset enim omne schema
VITIUM, si non peteretur, sed accideret. Verum auctoritate, vetustate,
consuetudine, plerumque defenditur, sæpe etiam RATIONE QUADAM. Ideoque
cum sit a simplici rectoque loquendi genere deflexa, _virtus_ est, si
habet PROBABILE ALIQUID quod sequatur[156].’
There is no part of your book in which you exult more than in the
confutation of this obnoxious paragraph. It is to be hoped, you do it on
good grounds—but let us see what those grounds are.
The Bishop, in the paragraph you criticize in your vᵗʰ Chapter, had said
_that tropes and figures of composition_, under certain circumstances,
there expressed, are frequently _vicious_. You make a difficulty of
understanding this term, and doubt whether his Lordship means _vice_ in
a _critical_, or _moral_ sense. I take upon me to answer roundly for the
Bishop, that he meant _vice_ in the _critical_ sense: for he pronounces
such tropes and figures _vicious_, ONLY _as they are a deviation from
the principles of_ METAPHYSICS AND LOGIC; and therefore I presume he
could not mean _vice_ in the other sense, which is _a deviation from the
principles of_ ETHICS. All you say on this subject, then, might have been
well spared.
This incidental question, or doubt of your’s, being cleared up, let us
now attend to the _more substantial grounds_ you go upon, in your censure
of the learned Bishop.
He had been speaking of _clearness_ and _precision, as the things in
language, which are least positive. Whereas, all besides, from the very
power of the elements and signification of the terms, to the tropes and
figures of composition, are arbitrary; and, what is more, as these are a
deviation from the principles of metaphysics and logic, are frequently
vicious._
In _the first place_, you say, _it were to be wished that his Lordship
had pleased to express himself with a little more precision_—_Want of
precision_ is not, I think, a fault with which the Bishop’s writings
are commonly charged; and I wish it may not appear in this instance,
as it did lately in another, that your misapprehension of his argument
arises from the very _precision_ of his expression. But in what does
this supposed _want of precision_ consist? Why, in not qualifying this
sentence, passed on _the tropes and figures of Composition_, which, from
the general terms, in which it is delivered, falls indiscriminately upon
ALL writers and speakers; for that “ALL men, who have ever written and
spoken, have _frequently_ used this mode of elocution, which is said to
be _frequently_ vicious[157].” Well, but from the word, _frequently_,
which you make yourself so pleasant with, it appears that the Bishop
_had_ qualified _this bold and dangerous position_.—Yes, but this makes
the position _still more bold_. Indeed! The Bishop is then singularly
unhappy, to have his position, _first_, declared bold for want of being
qualified, and, _then_, bolder still, for being so. But your reason
follows.
“What makes this position still more hardy is, that, however the
conclusion seems confined and restrained by the addition of that
qualifying word [frequently], yet the premises are general and unlimited.
It is asserted without any restriction, that figurative composition is
a deviation from the principles of metaphysics and logic. If then it be
vicious _as_ it is, i. e. _because_ [_quatenus_] it is such a deviation,
it must be not only _frequently_ but _always_ vicious; a very severe
censure denounced against almost every speaker, and every writer, both
sacred and prophane, that ever appeared in the world[158].”
Here your criticism grows very logical; and, notwithstanding the
confidence I owned myself to have in the _precision_ of the Bishop’s
style, I begin to be in pain how I shall disengage him from so exact and
philosophical an objector. Yet, as the occasion calls upon me, I shall
try what may be done. _As these_ [tropes and figures of composition]
_are a deviation from the principles of metaphysics and logic, they are
frequently_ VICIOUS. Since the _Attribute_ of this proposition is so
peculiarly offensive to you, your first care, methinks, should have been
to gain precise and exact ideas of the _subject_; without which it is not
possible to judge, whether what is affirmed of it be exceptionable, or no.
By _tropes and figures of composition_, you seem to understand
_metaphors_, _allegories_, _similitudes_, and whatever else is vulgarly
known under the name of _figures of speech_. For in p. 27, you speak
of _Allegories, Metaphors and_ OTHER _tropes and figures, which, you
say, are no more than comparisons and similitudes expressed in another
form_: And your concern, throughout this whole chapter, is for the
vindication of _such tropes and figures_ from the supposed charge of
their being _a deviation from the principles of metaphysics and logic_.
But now, on the other hand, I dare be confident that the Bishop meant
these terms, not in this _specific_, but in their _generic_ sense, as
expressing any kind of change, deflexion, or deviation from the plain and
common forms of language. I say, I am _confident_ of this, 1. because
the precise sense of the words _is_ such as I represent it to be; and
I have observed, though, it seems, you have not, that the Bishop is of
all others the most _precise_ in his expression. 2. Because QUINCTILIAN
authorizes this use of those terms, who tells us that—_per tropos verti
formas non verborum modo, sed et sensuum, et compositionis_, l. viii.
c. 6. And as to _figuram_, he defines it to be (as the word itself, he
says, imports) _conformatio quædam orationis, remota à communi et primum
se offerente ratione_, l. ix. c. 1. _words_, large enough to take in
every possible change and alteration of common language. So that _all
manners and forms_ of language, different from the common ones, may,
according to QUINCTILIAN, be fitly denominated _tropes and figures of
composition_. 3. I conclude this to be the Bishop’s meaning, because the
_specific sense_ of these words was not sufficient to his purpose, which
was to speak of ALL kinds of tropical and figured speech. Now though
_allegories, metaphors and other tropes and figures, which are no more
than comparisons and similitudes, expressed in another form_, belong
indeed to the _genus_ of figured language, they are by no means the whole
of it, as so great a master of rhetoric, as yourself, very well knows.
4. I conclude this, from the _peculiar mode_ of his expression: if the
Bishop had said simply _tropes and figures of speech_, I might perhaps
(if nothing else had hindered) have taken him to mean, as you seem to
have done, only _metaphors, allegories, and other tropes and figures,
expressing, in another form, comparisons and similitudes_, which, in
vulgar use, come under the name of _tropes and figures of speech_: But
when he departs from that common form of expression, and puts it, _tropes
and figures of_ COMPOSITION, I infer that so exact a writer, as the
Bishop, had his reasons for this change, and that he intended by it to
express _more_ than _tropes and figures of speech_ usually convey, indeed
ALL that can any way relate to the tropical and figurative use of words
in _literary composition_.
It is now seen what the SUBJECT of this bold proposition is: namely,
_tropical or figured language, in general_. This figured language,
as it is a deviation from the principles of metaphysics and logic,
is frequently _vicious_; i. e. is an acknowledged vice or fault in
composition, as such. We now then see the force of the PREDICATE.
Well; but if this figured language “be vicious _as_ it is, _i. e._
_because_, _quatenus_, it is such a deviation, it must not only be
_frequently_, but _always_ vicious.” The premises are general and
unlimited: so must, likewise, be the conclusion. What sense, then, is
there in the word, _frequently_? or what room, for that qualification?