ments of conviction in the argumentative part of his task, and whose acuteness and energy can be incalculably aided by philosophical and critical study, and by experimental practice, to this foundation and groundwork of success must be added, for the acquisition of excellence in impassioned eloquence, natural powers to which external aids can minister but weakly. A very few observations, therefore, may suffice on this head.

The philosophy of those regions of the human mind on which eloquence here seeks to work, must be learned, not from rhetoric, but from consciousness, observation, and the systematic study of the mental philosophy. It is most usual to consider the class of mental phenomena which are here brought into play as embracing only the active principles of human nature; but the student will unquestionably gain many incidental hints which would otherwise have escaped his notice, and will probably find his general view over this province of the art made at once clearer and wider, if he investigates with reference to it the whole of that class of phenomena which Thomas Brown ranks together in his analysis of the emotions, in their three genera of the immediate, retrospective, and prospective, and their subdivision (still more valuable for the present purpose) into those which do, and those which do not, involve the feelings that form the criterion of the objects of the moral faculty.

All advices which rhetoric can give on the subject are immediate corollaries from one part of the proposition laid down as our definition; namely, that the emotion sought to be produced excludes the action of the discursive faculties. The moment an argument, or a hint towards one, is suggested by the impassioned portions of a discourse, the emo

tion begins to be chilled, and the effect is lost. The emotion is generated through the excitement of the imagination; and this fact, with the exclusion of argument, is nearly all that art can here teach.

"The first and most important point to be observed in every address to any passion, sentiment, feeling, &c. is, that it should not be introduced as such, and plainly avowed." This rule follows both from the principles just laid down, and from another consideration: if the feeling sought to be excited is wrong, the avowal of the intention is manifestly destructive : if it is right and honourable, the self-love of those whom we address is offended by having it hinted that they are deficient in it.

Another rule, following from the instrumentality of the imagination, teaches us that conciseness, which in argument is a virtue if it does not degenerate into obscurity, is in the impassioned parts of a discourse always a positive fault. The imagination is operated on, not by general views, but by special circumstances, by pictures held up to it and brought close that they may be distinctly seen. On this, as on other questions connected with the impassioned parts of a discourse, Cicero, himself one of the greatest proficients in this branch, peculiarly attached to its study, and inclined to undervalue other sections of the art, has thrown out, in his attractively desultory fashion, hints that are extremely instructive.

A third rule, nearly akin to the last, which may indeed be considered as a portion of it, prescribes an examination and knowledge of all those circumstances which are chiefly instrumental in affecting the feelings; and Campbell has ably illustrated this precept, classing the

most obvious of such circumstances under the seven heads of "probability, plausibility" (which he considers as different from probability in kind, not in degree)," importance, proximity of time, connection of place, relation of the actors or sufferers to the hearers or speaker, and interest of the hearers or speaker in the consequences."

But, fourthly, such an examination will discover to us many circumstances which tend to check the flow of feeling, and against which consequently we must guard. Among these, a prominent place is occupied by tediousness, a fault into which the second rule just propounded may entice those who want a complete apprehension of its principle. "Nothing," says an ancient critic, " dries up more quickly than a tear ;" and what is thus true of the softer feelings, is equally so of the more vehement: none of them can be adequately supported by eloquence for more than a certain period, the length of which an impassioned orator must learn from his own consciousness and observation, being always, however, in danger of extending its limits too far, rather than of unduly restricting them. Appeals to the sense of the ludicrous by means of wit or humour may, if well supported, be responded to for a much longer time than the serious emotions, even although they should be conducted with little variety and intermission; but no class of feelings is more completely inconsistent with the exercise of the reasoning faculties; and a discourse which rests its strength solely or mainly on the use of ridicule, thereby shows that, whatever the author's motives may be for the choice, he is at any rate disinclined to attempt reaching his end by any thing like pure conviction. Some of the instruments of the ludicrous, too, are apt to fail in their purpose with many

people, from being misunderstood; and against irony in particular, the sharpest of all the weapons of wit, dulness of heart or fancy cases very many in armour of proof. This truth has been remarkably experienced by Swift, who is perhaps the greatest master of irony in any language, but whose polemical dissertations, often clothed in an ironical dress from beginning to end, are thus, in many cases, as little appreciable by a large majority of his readers as if they had been written in an unknown language. As instances of this fault, we may cite two of his most severe satires; the one his " Argument against abolishing Christianity," aimed both at the irreligion and the false religion of the times; and the other, still more celebrated, the "Modest proposal for preventing the children of poor people in Ireland from being a burden to their parents or country, and for making them beneficial to the public," being the bitterest of all sarcastic invectives against the misgovernment of that unhappy island, whose miseries Swift professes to see no possible means of alleviating, except by devoting the superabundant population to the shambles.

The only other questions connected with the inquiry, which we shall allude to, are those that address themselves to the case in which those whom we would persuade are already under the influence of some emotion, which we must endeavour to allay, or to divert from its original object. The main principle applicable to this head is, that a passion may generally be destroyed most easily, not by the excitement of another which may be considered as its opposite, but by that of passions which do not lie so far distant from it. Anger towards a person, for example, may be removed, not only by exciting good-will towards him, but by holding him up as

a proper object of fear. "Compassion, likewise, may be counteracted either by disapprobation, by jealousy, by fear, or by disgust; and horror and envy either by good-will or by contempt." Aristotle, in his minute analysis of the passions most usually appealed to in oratory, which is well worthy of being deeply studied, has several very valuable observations on this head; as Whately and Campbell have on the whole subject of impassioned eloquence: and Cicero and Quinctilian are much more useful here than they are in relation to the philosophy of arguments.

CHAPTER II.

THE PRINCIPLES OF RHETORICAL ARRANGEMENT.

Our general plan of the Systematic portion of Rhetoric now presents to us its Second Division, which treats of what the ancients called Disposition, or the Arrangement of the several Parts of a Discourse. This department of the inquiry, a favourite one with the classical rhetoricians, especially those of the later ages, has, in modern systems of the art, seldom received a place as a distinct branch, and has, indeed, been generally overlooked altogether; but the consideration of it suggests illustrations of the laws of eloquence, which claim for it some attention at least, although we shall not be tempted to dwell long upon it.

In reference to the animation of a discourse, and to every