Chapter IX: Appendix (5)

What follows, now, from this appeal to _experience_, against your appeal to the _established rules of criticism_? Plainly this: That all the rhetors of antiquity put together are no authority against what the Bishop of _Gloucester_ asserts concerning the nature of eloquence; since THEY only tell us (and we will take their word for it) what will _please or affect_ under _certain_ circumstances, while the BISHOP only questions whether the same rules, under ALL circumstances, will enable a writer or speaker to _please and affect_. Strange! that you should not see the inconsequence of your own reasoning. The Bishop says, The rules of eloquence are for the most part, local and arbitrary: No, you say, The rules are not local and arbitrary, FOR they were held reasonable ones at _Athens_ and _Rome_. Your very answer shews that they were local and arbitrary. You see, then, why I make so slight on this occasion of all your multiplied citations from the ancient writers, which, how respectable soever, are no decisive authority, indeed no authority at all, in the present case.

Hitherto, the Bishop had been considering eloquence ONLY SO FAR as it 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?

See, what it is to be a great proficient in logic, before one has well learnt one’s Grammar! As, i. e. _because_, _quatenus_, say you. How exactly and critically the English language may be studied in _Dublin_, I pretend not to say: But we in _England_ understand the particle as, not only in the sense of _because_, _quatenus_, but also, and, I think, more frequently, in the sense of _in proportion as_, _according as_, or, if you will needs have a Latin term to explain an English term, _prout, perinde ac_. So that the proposition stands thus: _These tropes and figures_, ACCORDING AS _they are a deviation from the principles of metaphysics and logic, are frequently vicious_. The premises, you now see, are qualified, as well as the conclusion. Figured language, WHEN it deviates from the principles of metaphysics and logic, is—what? _always_ vicious? But the Bishop did not say, that figured language is _always_ a deviation from those principles. He only says, _when_ it so deviates, it is vicious. It is implied in the expression that figured language at least _sometimes_ deviates from those principles, and the Bishop, as appears, is of opinion that it _frequently_ deviates: He therefore says, consistently with his premises, and with his usual accuracy, It is _frequently_ vicious.

In short, the Bishop’s argument, about which you make so much noise, if drawn out in mood and figure, would, I suppose, stand thus—“Tropical and figured language, WHEN it deviates from the principles of metaphysics and logic, is vicious—Tropical and figured language FREQUENTLY deviates from those principles—Therefore tropical and figured language is FREQUENTLY vicious.” And where is the defect of sense or logic, I want to know, in this argumentation? But you impatiently ask, Are _metaphors, allegories, and comparisons_ then included in this _figured language_, which is pronounced _vicious_? To this question I can only reply, That I know not whether _metaphors, allegories, and comparisons_, are, in the Bishop’s opinion, _deviations_ from the principles of metaphysics and logic; for I cannot find that he says any thing, in _particular_, of this kind of tropes and figures. But if you, or any one for you, will shew clearly, that _metaphors, allegories, and comparisons_ are such _deviations_, the Bishop, for any thing I know, might affirm, and might be justified in affirming, that they were in themselves _vicious_. But be not too much alarmed for your favourites, if he should: They would certainly keep their ground, though convicted of such _vice_; at least unless the Rhetoricians of our time should be so dull as not to be able to find out what QUINCTILIAN calls _probabile aliquid_, some probable pretext to justify or excuse them.

But, instead of troubling ourselves to guess what the Bishop _might_ say on a subject on which he has said nothing, it is to better purpose to attend to what he _has_ said, on the subject in question. The Bishop _has_ said, _That tropical and figured language is frequently vicious_. You ask when? He replies, _When it deviates from the principles of metaphysics and logic_. But in what particular instances does this appear? He tells you this too. He gives you instances enough, to justify his affirmation, that tropical and figured language is _frequently_ vicious; for he exemplifies his affirmation in ONE WHOLE class of such figured speech, as deviates from the principles of metaphysics and logic, and is therefore vicious, namely, _in the class of verbal figures_. ‘This, [_i. e._ the truth of the affirmation, That figured language, according as it is found to be a deviation from the principles of metaphysics and logic, is frequently vicious] the great master, 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 à simplici rectoque loquendi genere deflexa, _virtus est_, si habet PROBABILE ALIQUID quod sequatur[159].’

The difficulty, I trust, now begins to clear up. Figured language, is frequently vicious. Of this we have an instance given in one entire species of figured or ornamented speech, namely σχήματα λέξεως, or _verbal figures_. Can any thing be clearer and plainer? Yet, because you had taken it into your head that by _tropes and figures of composition_ the Bishop understood, nay could only understand, _metaphors, allegories, and comparisons_, you dreamt of nothing, here, but the same fine things. And though QUINCTILIAN lay before the Bishop, when he quoted these words, though the Bishop’s own express words shew the contrary, for he speaks not of tropes and figures in general, much less of such tropes and figures as you speak of, but solely of _that ornamented speech_, called σχήματα λέξεως, you will needs have him quote QUINCTILIAN in this place as speaking of _Rhetorical figures_. But let us attend to QUINCTILIAN’S words. _Esset omne schema vitium, si non peterentur, sed acciderent._ What! Shall we think the Bishop could mean to affirm of _rhetorical figures_, that they would _always be vicious_, if they _were not sought for, but occurred of themselves_? For that, I think, is the translation of—_si non peterentur, sed acciderent_. Surely one way, and that the chief, in which _rhetorical figures, metaphors, allegories, and comparisons_, become vicious, is, when they ARE _sought for, sollicitously hunted after, and affectedly brought in_. The very contrary happens with regard to these verbal figures: they are vicious, when they _are_ NOT _sought for and purposely affected_. I conclude then, that his Lordship, who surely does not want common sense, and, I think, understands Latin, did not, and could not intend to exemplify his observation in the case of _rhetorical figures_.

Still you are something puzzled and perplexed by the Bishop’s observation. Admitting him to mean, as his author does, _verbal figures_, how can these be considered _as a deviation from the principles of metaphysics and logic_? How? Why, has not the Bishop told us, or, if he had not, is it not certain in itself, that _to give a language clearness is the office of philosophy; and that Definition, a part of Logic, performs that service by a resolution of the ideas, which make up the terms_? But these verbal figures are often a deviation from, nay a willful defiance of, _all logical definition_. Witness the very instance you and QUINCTILIAN give us, in VIRGIL’S _timidi damæ_. Logic defines _Damæ_ to be the _females_ of that species of animals called _Deer_. The figurative VIRGIL confounds this distinction by using this term for the _males_, as well as females. But, universally, _Grammar_ itself, whose peculiar office is to _give precision to language_, is a part of logic: the Bishop says, _its rules are conducted on the principles of Logic_. But _verbal figures_, even when they do not offend against the strictness of definition, are universally violations, in some degree or other, of _Grammar_, i. e. of _Logic_. Yet these violations of _Logical Grammar_, QUINCTILIAN tells us, may be allowed, _si habent probabile aliquid quod sequantur_; that is, for some fantastical reason or other, by which the masters of Rhetoric are pleased to recommend them to us.

And now, Sir, let me ask, what becomes of your fine comment on QUINCTILIAN’S chapter concerning _verbal figures_, and, particularly, of your nice distinction between these, and _rhetorical figures_, which the Bishop, no doubt, wanted to be informed of? The issue of your exploits in Logic and Criticism is now seen to be this, That you have grossly misrepresented the Bishop; and needlessly, at least, explained QUINCTILIAN. _First_, you make the Bishop talk of _rhetorical figures_ ONLY, in the _specific_ sense of these terms, when his Lordship was all the while speaking of _figured language, in general_. _Next_, you make him deliver a bold position concerning rhetorical figures, as being _frequently_ vicious, because _always_ deviations from the principles of metaphysics and logic; when all he maintains, is, That figured language is FREQUENTLY vicious, according as it deviates from those principles; and, in particular, that _that_ part of figured speech, called grammatical or verbal figures, is ALWAYS vicious.

To conclude, if you had shewn any compunction, or even common respect in exposing what you took to be the Bishop’s absurdities on this subject, I should have made a conscience of laying you open on this head of _Rhetorical and Grammatical figures_. As it is, your unmerciful triumph over the poor Bishop makes it allowable for me to lay your dealing with him before the reader in all its nakedness; and, after what has been said, I cannot do it better than by letting him see how the Bishop’s argumentation is represented by you, as drawn out in your own words, and that in full mood and figure.

“I should by no means,” say you, “willingly misrepresent the argument of my Lord Bishop; but upon repeated examination of the passage here quoted, I must state it thus:

“Quinctilian declares, that what are called grammatical figures are really no more than faulty violations of grammatical rules, unless when purposely introduced upon some reasonable or plausible grounds.”

Therefore,

“He confesses that tropes and figures of composition, as they are a deviation from the principles of metaphysics and logic, are frequently vicious.”

You add, “If this be a fair representation, it were to be wished that the learned author _had so far condescended to men of confined abilities_, as to explain the connexion between these two propositions[160].”

As the _learned author_, I guess, may be better employed than in this unnecessary task, which you _wish_ to impose upon him, I have taken upon me to discharge that office, with less able hands; and, yet, have _explained the connexion between these two propositions_ in such sort, that, if I mistake not, we shall never hear more from you, of any inconsistency between them.

I have NOW, Sir, gone through the several particulars of your Dissertation, and have shewn, I think, clearly and invincibly, that all your objections to the Bishop’s paradoxical sentiments on the subject of Eloquence are mistaken and wholly groundless.

The TWO propositions his Lordship took upon him to confute, 1. _That an inspired language must needs be a language of perfect eloquence_; and, 2. _That eloquence is something congenial and essential to human speech, and inherent in the constitution of things_: These two propositions, I say, are so thoroughly confuted by the Bishop, that not one word of all you say in any degree affects his reasoning, or supports those two propositions against the force of it. I am even candid enough to believe that, on further thoughts, you will not yourself be displeased with this ill success of your attack on the learned Prelate’s _principles_; which are manifestly calculated for the service of religion and the honour of inspired scripture. For, though you attempt to shew us in your two last chapters, how the honour of inspired scripture may be saved on _other principles_, yet allow me to say that, for certain reasons, I much question the validity of those principles; at least, that the persons, most concerned in this controversy, will by no means subscribe to them. If there be an Archetype of eloquence in nature, ‘one should be apt enough, as the Bishop says, to conclude, that when the Author of nature condescended to inspire one of these plastic performances of human art, he would make it by the exactest pattern of the Archetype[161].’ Or, whatever you and I and the Bishop might conclude, assure yourself that the objectors to inspired scripture will infallibly draw that conclusion. And, when they do so, and fortify themselves, besides, with the authority of so great a master of eloquence, as yourself, it will be in vain, I doubt, to oppose to them your ingenious harangues and encomiums on the eloquent composition of the sacred scriptures. Nay, it would give you, no doubt, some pain to find that, though they should accept your authority for the truth of their favourite principle of there being _an Archetype in nature of perfect eloquence_, they would yet reject your _harangues and encomiums_ with that disdain which is so natural to them. The honour of sacred scripture will then hang on a question of _Taste_: and unluckily the objectors are of such authority in that respect, that there is no appeal from their decisions of it.

The contemplation of these _inconveniencies_, together with the _love of truth_, determined me to hazard this address to you. I will not deny, besides, that the mere _justice_ due to a great character, whom I found somewhat freely, not to say injuriously treated by you, was also, _one_ motive with me. If I add still _another_, it is such as I need not disown, and which you, of all men, will be the last to object to, I mean a motive of _Charity_ towards yourself.

I am much a stranger to your person, and, what it may perhaps be scarce decent for me to profess to you, even to your writings. All I know of YOURSELF, is, what your book tells me, that you are distinguished by an honourable place and office in the University of _Dublin_: and what I have heared of your WRITINGS, makes me think favourably of a private scholar, who, they say, employs himself in such works of learning and taste, as are proper to instill a reverence into young minds for the best models of ancient eloquence. While you are thus creditably stationed, and thus usefully employed, I could not but feel some concern for the hurt you were likely to do yourself by engaging in so warm and so unnecessary an opposition to a _writer_, as you characterize him, _of distinguished eminence_[162]. Time was, when even with us on this side the water, the novelty of this writer’s positions, and the envy, which ever attends superior merit, disposed some warm persons to open, and prosecute with many hard words, the unpopular cry against him, of his being a bold and PARADOXICAL writer. But reflexion and experience have quieted this alarm. Men of sense and judgment now consider his Paradoxes as very harmless, nay as very sober and certain truths; and even vye with each other in their zeal of building upon them, as the surest basis, on which a just and rational vindication of our common religion can be raised. This is the present state of things with us, and especially, they say, in the Universities of this kingdom.

It was, therefore, not without some surprize, and, as I said, with much real concern, that I found a gentleman of learning and education revive, at such a juncture, that stale and worn-out topic, and disgrace himself by propagating this clamour, of I know not what _paradoxical boldness_, now long out of date, in the much-approved writings of this great Prelate. Nor was the dishonour to yourself, the only circumstance to be lamented. You were striving, with all your might, to infuse prejudices into the minds of many ingenious and virtuous young men; whom you would surely be sorry to mislead; and who would owe you little thanks for prepossessing them with unfavourable sentiments of such a man and writer, as the Bishop of _Gloucester_, they will find, is generally esteemed to be.

These, then, were the considerations, which induced me to employ an hour or two of leisure in giving your book a free examination. I have done it in as few words as possible, and in a _manner_ which no reasonable and candid man, I persuade myself, will disapprove. I know what apologies may be requisite to the learned Bishop for a stranger’s engaging in this officious task. But to you, Sir, I make none: It is enough if any benefits to yourself or others may be derived from it.

I am, with respect, &c.

FINIS.

Printed by J. Nichols and Son, Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Prov. xvi. 7.

[2] Isaiah, xxvi. 9.

[3] Rev. ii. 4, 5.

[4] Eph. i. 7.

[5] John i. 1.

[6] Col. i. 17.

[7] Rev. i. 17. xxii. 13.

[8] Heb. i. 8.

[9] Micah v. 2.

[10] Rev. i. 8.

[11] John xvii. 5.

[12] Ps. iii. 2.

[13] Eph. iii. 9, 10, 11.

[14] Eph. iii. 18, 19.

[15] Acts x. 18.

[16] Eph. iii. 21.

[17] 1. Pet. i. 12.

[18] Eph. i. 10.

[19] Rev. xiv. 6.

[20] Gal. i. 6.

[21] Rom. x. 18.

[22] Col. xi. 10.

[23] Matth. xxviii. 19.

[24] 2 Cor. i. 12.

[25] 2 Cor. xii. 9.

[26] 1 Cor. vii. 21-24.

[27] John xv. 16.

[28] 1 Tim. iv. 16.

[29] Phil. i. 10, 11.

[30] Archbishop’s Injunctions, S. xi.

[31] Canon LXXV.

[32] Phil. i. 9-11.

[33] Rom. xii. 16.

[34] Erasmi in Evang. Joannis Paraphrasis, cap. i.

[35] 1 Cor. ii. 14.

[36] 1 Cor. ii. 14.

[37] 2 Tim. iv. 2.

[38] Lord Bacon, A. L. B. i. p. 417.

[39] _Fiduciam_ orator præ se ferat, semperque ità dicat tanquàm de causâ optimè sentiat. Quint. l. v. c. 13, p. 422.

[40] Matth. vii. 29.

[41] Matth. xv. 6.

[42] “In omnibus quæ dicit tanta auctoritas inest, ut dissentire pudeat; nec advocati studium, sed testis aut judicis afferat fidem.” Said of Cicero by Quintilian. The Roman orator acquired this praise by consummate art and genius. The plainest Christian homilist, who does his duty in _speaking as the oracles of God_, attains it with ease, and deserves it much better. Such is the pre-eminence of what the Apostle calls _the foolishness of preaching_!

[43] Tanta in oratione auctoritas, ut _probationis_ locum obtineat. Quintil. p. 422.

[44] Bishop Stillingfleet, Sermon IV.

[45] _Afficiamur_, antequam afficere conemur. Quint. p. 461. _moveamur_ ipsi. Ib.

[46] If I mention the names of the Bishops BEVERIDGE and BLACKALL, it is not in exclusion of many others, but because I suspect they are less known to the younger clergy than they deserve to be.

[47] Matth. xxviii. 20.

[48] “Parentes et Pædagogi pueros olim cum primum per ætatem sapere, et intelligere cœpissent, primis Christianæ religionis rudimentis diligenter instituebant, ut pietatem unà penè cum lacte nutricis imbiberent, et à primis statim cunis, virtutis incunabilis ad vitam illam beatam alerentur. Quem etiam ad usum breves libri, quos _Catechismos_ nostri appellant, conscribebantur.”

Noelli Catechismus de Baptismo.

[49] 2 Cor. xiii. 14.

[50] W. Weston, B. D. Fellow of St. John’s College, Cambridge; and vicar of Campden, Gloucestershire. Camb. 1746.

[51] Pref. p. ii.

[52] Pref. p. ii.

[53] Ded. p. iv.—“The best compliment I can make your Lordship on the occasion is the true one, _that I have a good opinion of the present performance myself_,” &c.

[54] Pref. p. iii.

[55] Pref. p. iii.

[56] Pref. p. ii.

[57] The following passages brought to confirm this _fact_ are so well known, that, if there was not something uncommonly strong, and subversive of the writer’s objection in the very turn of expression, I should scarce think myself at liberty to transcribe them.—Visa est mihi res digna consultatione, maximè propter perielitantium _numerum_. Multi enim _omnis ætatis, omnis ordinis_, utriusque sexûs etiam vocantur in periculum et vocabuntur. Neque enim civitates tantum, sed vicos etiam atque _agros_ superstitionis istius contagio pervagata——_propè jam desolata templa,——sacra solemnia diu intermissa_.—Plin.

[58] Hesterni sumus, et _vestra omnia implevimus, urbes, insulas, castella, municipia, conciliabula, castra ipsa, tribus, decurias, palatium, senatum, forum_; sola vobis relinquimus templa. Tertull. Apol. c. 37. And before speaking of the heathens, _Obessam vociferantur civitatem, in agris, in castellis, in insulis_ Christianos, _omnem sexum, ætatem, conditionem & dignitatem_ transgredi ad hoc nomen quasi detrimento mærent. c. i. See also Arnobius, contr. Gentes, insisting on the same fact.—Vel hæc saltem fidem vobis faciunt argumenta credendi, quod jam per _omnes terras_ in _tam brevi tempore et parvo immensi nominis hujus sacramenta diffusa sunt_? &c. L. ii. sub fin.

[59] Pref. p. iii.

[60] Chap. iii. p. 38.

[61] Speaking of I know not what _sour and dogmatical_ divines, “I am not sure (says he) that I shall escape _their anathema_; since it is their custom generally to be displeased with every thing that does not fall in with their _fixed and settled sentiments_; and every defence of religion that is _out of their way_ wants another to support it.” Pref. p. viii. And again: “With some, I suppose, the _novelty_ of this matter will be for ever a bar to its reception.” P. 370.

[62] The reader sees I complaisantly allow the writer’s representation of the cases both of _Pilate and Gallio_; though much might, with good reason, be objected to each of them. For, 1. If I should lay any stress on the _acts of Pilate_, which, he owns, if admitted, would overturn the whole use of his evidence, I should but follow in this the best authorities, and those too supported by such reasonings as the Inquirer would find it difficult to confute. And, 2. As to Gallio’s case, however inattentive he might be to the fame of Paul’s miracles, the passage alledged is certainly insufficient to prove it. Acts, chap. xviii. 17. For, indeed, the Inquirer did not so much as apprehend the purpose of the sacred writer in that whole narration; which manifestly was not to signify to us Gallio’s inattention to the Apostle’s miracles, but his candour, and prudent conduct in refusing to interfere in religious matters, and in chusing rather to overlook an act of violence done in his presence (which, though strictly speaking illegal, he might probably think not altogether undeserved of the malicious intolerating Jew), than gratify the complainant’s passion in punishing either Paul or his heathen advocates. For this is the sense of those words, _He cared for none of these things_; which the writer ought to have seen is so far from proving Gallio’s disregard of miracles, that, had he been Paul’s convert, the very same thing had been observed of him.

[63] Aristeas.—The writers referred to in the margin are _Strabo_, _Maximus Tyrius_, _Pliny_, and _Herodotus_. Of these, the three first mention Aristeas _occasionally_ only; and yet Strabo calls him ανηρ γοης ει τις αλλος; and _Max. Tyrius_ and _Pliny_, though they explode miracles, yet plainly enough declare the common creed to run in his favour. Max. Tyrius in particular, after having given us his opinion of his miracles, together with his reasons for pretending to them, adds, _And Aristeas gained more credit by this pretension to wonders and supernatural communications, than Xenagoras, Xenophanes, or any other philosopher could have acquired by relating the plain truth_. Και ην πιθανωτερος ταυτα λεγων ὁ Αριστεας η ὁ Ξεναγορας η Ξενοφανης, η τις αλλος των εξηγησαμενων τα οντα ὡς εχει. Lastly, the account Herodotus gives us is so much to the credit of his miracles, that one cannot imagine how the writer should think it to his purpose to refer to him. For he _was_, indeed, delivering the popular history of Aristeas; and therefore did, as might be expected, represent him, not only as a worker of miracles, but as much reverenced and _esteemed_ for them. This he attests upon his own knowledge of several cities, all concurring in the firm belief of his miracles; and one of them in particular transported by so religious a veneration of him, as to erect a statue to his memory; which they also caused to be set up in the most public part of their city, and even close to one they had at the same time decreed to Apollo. And for the historian himself, though in truth the story be even foolish enough, yet so far is he from speaking of it with disregard, that I am not certain if he did not believe it, at least that part which relates to the Metapontini; which, after the mention of some other things from hearsay only, he introduces in the following assured manner: “Thus far the report of these cities: But what I am now going to relate, I _certainly know_ to have happened to the Metapontini in Italy, &c.” Ταυτα μεν αἱ πολεις αὑται λεγουσι, τα δε οιδα Μεταποντινοισι εν Ιταλιη συγκυρησαντα, &c. L iv. 15; and then mentions the affair which gave occasion to the statue; which, he tells us, he saw himself, placed, as I have said, and inscribed to the memory of Aristeas.

[64] The other impostors mentioned as not much esteemed for their miracles are _Pythagoras_, _Jamblichus_, and _Adrian_; though it is certain the writers of their lives lay great stress upon them. _Jamblichus_ and _Porphyry_, after enlarging on several of Pythagoras’s miracles, which drew the applause and admiration of his followers, appeal to current fame for the credit of these, and of other still _diviner miracles_, which, say they, _are related of him with an uniform_ and constant belief, μυρια δ’ ἑτερα θαυμαστοτερα και θειοτερα περι τ’ ανδρος ὁμαλως και συμφονως ειρηται. (_Porph._ S. 28 and to the same purpose, and nearly in the same words, _Jambl._ S. 135). Jamblichus even goes so far, in speaking of the Pythagorean fondness for miracles, as to assure us, that they were conceived to prove the _divinity_ of their authors, and by that means to give a sanction to their _opinions and doctrines_. την πιστιν των παρ’ αυτοις ὑποληψεων ἡγουνται ειναι ταυτην, &c. S. 140. _They conceive it, says he, to add a_ CREDIT _and authority to their doctrines, that the author of them was a_ GOD; _and therefore to the question, Who was Pythagoras? their answer was, The hyperborean Apollo; and in proof of this they alledge the miracle of his golden thigh. And yet_, says the Inquirer, _Pythagoras was not much more esteemed for his thigh of gold than one of flesh_. What pity is it, the wit of this antithesis should be no better supported!

As for _Eunapius_, though he plainly disbelieved the silly tale of the two boys of Gadara, yet, in relating it circumstantially as he does, he clearly enough expresses his own opinion of miracles, and acknowledges thereby the credit they would bring his master, were they better attested, or but fairly received.

The miracles of the emperors are well known. And as their manifest intent was, of the one of them, to add a credit, or, as Suetonius more strongly expresses it, an _authority, and certain awfulness, befitting majesty_, to the person of _Trajan_, and of the _other_, to inspire the hopes of recovery into _Adrian_, so the relation of them by their historians, as useful and subservient to those ends, is a thorough confutation of what the author pretends about the little regard paid to them. And here it may be proper to observe, once for all, that the frequent narrations of prodigies and miracles, of which all Pagan story and antiquity is full, is infinitely a stronger argument for the high credit of miracles amongst the heathens in general, than any pretended _coolness, tranquillity, and indifference_, which the writer’s warmth, in the prosecution of his favourite novelty, leads him to imagine in the narrations themselves, is, or can be, for the contrary opinion. Since _this_ could only shew the incredulity of the relaters; whilst the _relating_ them at all demonstrates the general good reception they met with from the people.

[65] This miracle was that of the fiery eruptions which hindered the building of the temple at Jerusalem by _Julian_; and which, falling into the hands of _Marcellinus_, might be expected to be spoken of as a natural event. But this is all: for, as to that _wonderful coolness and tranquillity_, which the writer pretends to have discovered in the narration, it is so far from appearing to me, that, on the contrary, I see not how the historian could have expressed himself with more emotion, without directly owning the miracle. His words are these: Quum itaque rei fortiter instaret Alypius, juvaretque provinciæ rector, _metuendi globi flammarum prope fundamenta crebris assultibus erumpentes, fecere locum, exustis aliquoties operantibus, inaccessum: hoc modo elemento destinatius repellente cessavit Inceptum_.

[66] Pp. 40, 54, 57.

[67] Epicurus, Democritus, &c. p. 58.