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SC<S^\'+H1^
THE
WORKS
OF
JOHN WITHERSPOON, D. D.
SOMETIME MINISTER OF THE GOS-PEL AT PAISLEY, AND LATE PRESIDENT OF PRINCETON COLLEGE, IN NEW JERSEY.
CONTAINING,
ESSAYS, SERMONS, ^c
IMPORTANT SUBJECTS ;
INTENDED TO ILLUSTRATE AND ESTABLISH THE DOCTRIN'E
OF SALVATION BY GRACE, AND TO POINT OUT
ITS INFLUENCE ON HOLINESS OF LIFE.
TOGETHER WITH BIS
LECTURES ON MORAL PHILOSOPHY, ELOQUENCE, AND DIVINITY 5
HIS SPEECHES IN THE AMERICAN CONGRESS 3
AND MANY OTHER VALUABLE PIECES NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED IN THIS COUNTRY.
VOL. VIL
EDINBURGH '.
PRINTED FOR. OGLE AND AIKMAN J J. PILLANS AND SONS ) J. RITCHIE J AND J. TDRNBULL.
1805.
<^-^.,^^
/
ESSAYS
ON
INTERESTING SUBJECTS.
J. Pillans and Sons^ Printers*
C O Tsf T E N T S
OF
VOLUME VII.
LECTURES ON MORAL PHILOSOPHY.
Fag,
9 16
*3
31
38
44
51 60
66
15
86
Relation of Parents andChildren, <;i Relation of Mafter and Servant, 93 Le£lure XII. Of Civil Society, - - 94
Of the Different Forms of Govern- ment, - - 97 Le6lure XIII. Of the Law of Nature and Nations, 107 Of making Peace, - 115 LeftureXIV. Of Jnrifprudence, - - 118 Of the Sanction of the Moral Laws, 125 Le6lure XV. - - - 129 Contrafls^ ^^ m ih.
Leaure I. |
- |
n. |
- |
III. |
- |
IV. |
- |
V. |
- |
VI. |
- |
VII. |
- |
VIII. |
. |
IX. |
» •• |
X. |
- |
OF POLITICS. |
|
Leclure XI. |
. |
vl CONTENTS
Tag. Of the Marks and Signs of Con- trads, - - 134
Le6lure XVI. Of Oaths and Vows, - 139
Of the Ufe of Symbols in Contra6ls, 14 z Of the Value of Property, th*
Rights of Neceflity, and Common
Rights, - - 145
Recapitulation, - - 149
LECTURES ON ELOQUENCE.
Leaure I. - - ' "^^^
II. ... . 165
III. . . - - 174
IV. - - - 185
V. - - - - 194
VI. - - - 205
VII. - - - - 213
Of Figurative speech, - 219
Of Figures, - - 221
VIII. - - - 223
IX- - - - 227
X. - - - - ^39
XI. . - - 245
XII. . . - - 257
XIII. - - .265
XIV. - - , - - 273
XV. - - - ^^4
XVI.
501
LECTURES
ON
MOR^JL FFIILOSOFMY.
LECTURE I.
MORAL Philofophy is that branch of fcience which treats of the principles and laws of duty, or morals. It is called Philosophy, becaufe it is an inquiry into the nature and grounds of moral" obligation by reafon, as diIlin(El from revelation.
Hence arifes a queflion, Is it lawful, and is it fafe or ufeful, to feparate moral philofophy from reli- gion ? It will be faid, it is either the fame, or dif- ferent from, revealed truth ; if the fame, unneceffary —if different, falfe and dangerous.
An author of New England fays, * Moral philo- fophy is jufl reducing infidelity to a fyllem.' But however fpecious the obje£lions, they wiU be found at bottom not folid. If the fcripture is true, the difcoveries of reafon cannot be contrary to it 5 and
Vol. VIL B
10 LECTURES ON Lecl. t.
therefore it has nothing to fear from that quarter. And as we are certain it can do no evil, fo there is a probability that it may do much good. There may be an illuftration and confirmation of the in- fpired writings from reafon and obfervation, which .will greatly add to their beauty and force.
The noble and eminent improvements in natural philofophy, which have been made fince the end of tlie lad century, have been far from hurting the interefl of religion ; on the contrary, they have greatly promoted it. Why fhould it not be the fame with moral philofophy, which is indeed no- thing elfe but th6 knowledge of human nature ? It is true, that iniidels do commonly proceed upon pretended principles of reafon. But as it is im- poflible to binder them from reafoning on this fub- je6l, the bell way is to meet them upon their own ground, and to fhew from reafon itfelf the fallacy of their principles. I do not know any thing that ferves more for the fupport of religion, than to fee, from the different and oppofite fyftems of philo- fophers, that there is nothing certain in their fchcmes, but what is coincident with the word of Cod.
Some there are, and perhaps more in the prefent than any former age, who deny the law of nature, and fay, that all fuch fentiments as have been ufually afcribed to the law of nature, are from re- velation and tradition.
We muft diftinguilh here between the light of nature and the law of nature : by the firft is to be underilood what we can or do dil'cover by our own powers, without revelation or tradition : by the fe-
Le£l. I. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. II
cond, that which, when difcovered, can be made appear to be agreeable to reafon and nature.
There have been fome very fhrewd and able , writers of late, viz. Dr Wilfon of Newcaftle, and Mr Riccalton of Scotland, who have written a- gainft the light of nature, fhewing that the firll principles of knowledge are taken from informa- tion : — That nothing can be fuppofed more rude and ignorarrt, than man without inftru^liori : — That when men have been brought up fo, thej have fcarcely been fuperior to brutes. It is very difficult to be precife upon this fubjedi, and to diftinguiih. the difcoveries of reafon from the exercife of it. Yet I think, admitting all, or the greatefl part, of what fuch contend for, we may, notwithftanding, confider how far any thing is confonant to rea- fon, or may be proven by reafon ; though perhaps reafon, if left to itfelf, would never have difco- vered it.
Dr Clark was one of the greateft champions for the law of nature ; but it is only iince his time that the fhrewd oppofers of it have appeared. Tlie Hutchinfonians (fo called from Hutchinfon of Eng- land) infifl, that not only all moral, but alfo all na-. tural knowledge, comes frorn revelation, the true fyftem of the v/orld, true chronology, all human arts, &:c. In this, as is ufual with mofl other claiTes of men, they carry their noftrums to extra- vagance. I am of opinion, that the fcripture is perfectly agreeable to found philofophy ; yet cer- tainly it was never intended to teach us every thing. The political laxv of the Jews contains many noble principles of equity, and excellent examples to fu-
12 LECTURES ON Lc(^. I.
ture lawgivers ; yet it was fo local and peculiar, that certainly it was never intended to be immu- table and univerfal.
It would be more juft and ufeful to fay, that all fimple and original difcoveries have been the pro- dudlion of Providence, and not the invention of man. On the whole, it feems reafonable to make moral philofophy, in the fenfe above explained, a fubjeft of ftudy. And, indeed, let men think what they will of it, they ought to acquaint them- felves with it. They muft know what it is, ifl they mean even to fhew that it is falfe.
The Droision of the Subject,
Moral philofophy is divided into two great* branches, ethics and politics ; to this fome add ju- rifprudence, though this may be confidered as a part of politics.
Ethics relate to perfonal duties ; politics to the conllitution, government, and rights of focieties ; and jurifprudence, to the adminiftration of juftice in conftituted Hates.
It feems a point agreed upon, that the principles of duty and obligation muft be drawn from the na- ture of man. That is to fay, if we can difcover how his Maker formed him, or for what he in- tended him, that certainly is what he ought to be.
The knowledge of human nature, however, is either perplexed and difficult of itfelf, or hath been made fo by the manner in which writers in all ages have treated it. Perhaps this circumftance itfelf is a ftrong prefumption of the truth of the fcripture-
ted. I. MORAL PHItOSOPfir* 23
do£lrine of the depravity and corruption of our na- ture. Suppciing tills depravity, it muil be one great caufe ofdifficultj and confufion in giving an account of human nature as the work of God.
This I Take to be indeed the cafe with the greateft part of our moral and theological know- ledge.
Thofe who deny this depravity, will be apt to plead for every thing, cr for many things, as dic- tates of nature, which are in reality propenfities of nature in its prefent ftate, but at the fame time the fruit and evidence of its departure from its original purity. It is by the remaining power 'of natural confcience that we mult endeavour to detect and on- pofe their errors.
I. We may confider man very generally in his fpecies as diltindt from and fuperior to the other creatures, and what it is, in which the difference truly confifts. 2. As an individual, what are the parts which conftitute his nature.
I. Philofophers have generally attempted to af- fign the precife diflinction between men and the other animals ; but when endeavouring to bring it TO one peculiar incommunicable chara6teriitic, they have generally contradicted one another, and fome- ::mes difputed with violence, and rendered the thing more uncertain.
The difficulty of fixing upon a precife criterion, only ferves to fhew, that in man v/e have an ex- ample of what we fee alfo every where elfe, viz. a beautiful and infenfible gradation from one thino- to another, fo that the higheft of the inferior is, as i- were, conneded and blended with the loweft of B .^
14 LECTURES ON Left. I,
the fiiperior clafs. Birds and beafts are conne<Eled bj foine fpecies, fo that yoa will find it hard to fay -whether they belong to the one or the other. So indeed it is in the whole vegetable as well as ani- mal kingdom, (i.) Some fay men are diftin- guillied from brutes by reafon^ and certainly this, either in kind or degree, is the moft honourable of our diftinftions. (2.) Others fay, that many brutes give flrong figns of rcafon, as dogs, horfes, and ele- phants ; but that man is diftinguilhed by memory and forefight : but I apprehend that thefe are upon the fame footing with reafon^ if there are fome glimmerings of reafon in the brute creation, there are alfo manifefl: proofs of memory^ and fome of forelight. (3.) Some have thought it proper to diilinguilh man from the inferior creatures by the ufe of fpeech, no other creatures having an articu- late language^ Here, again, we are obliged to ac- knowledge, that our diftin£lion is chiefly the excel- lence and fulnefs of articulate difcourfe ; for brutes have certainly the art of making one another un- derfland many things by found. (4.) Some have faid, that man is not completely diftinguifhed by any of thefe,. but by a fenfe of religion. And I think it mufl be admitted, that of piety, or a fenfe ©f the Supreme Being,, there is not any trace to be feen in the inferior creatures. The ftories handed about by weak-nxinded perfons,. or retailed by cre- dulous authors, of refpe£l in them to churches, or facred perfons, are to be difdained as wholly fa- bulous and vifionary. (5.) There have been fome who have faid, that man is diftinguilhed from the brutes by a fenfe of ridicule*.
Left. I. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 1^
The whole creation (fays a certain author) is grave, except man, no one aughs but himfelf. There is fomething whimfical In fixing upon this as the criterion, and it docs not feem to place us in si •very refpeclable light. Perhaps it is not improper to fmile upon the occalion, and to fay, that if this fentiment is embraced, we (hall be obliged to con- fefs kindred with the apes, who arc certainly them- felves polTelTed of a rifible faculty, as well as qua- lified to excite laughter in us. On the whole, there feems no necefTity of fixing upon fome one crite- rion, to the exclufion of others.
There is a great and apparent diftlnftion between man and the inferior animals, not only in the beau- ty of his form, which the poet takes notice of, Os hcmini sublime dedity &:c. but alfo in reafon, memory, refledlion, and the knowledge of God and a future ft ate.
A general diftlnftion, which deferves particularly to be taken notice of in moral difquifitions, is, that man is evidently made to be guided, and prote£led from dangers, and fupplied with what is ufeful more by reafon, and brutes more bymftlnft.
It is not very eafy, and perhaps not neceflary,, to explain inftinft. It is fomething previous to reafon and thought. When we fay the birds build their nefls by inftinft, and man builds his habitation by refie£tion, experience, or inftru£tion, we under- ftand things well enough ; but if we attempt to give a logical definitica of either the one or the other, it will immediately be aiTaulted by a thoufand argu- ments.
l6 LECTURES ON Lefl:. 2.
Though man is evidently governed by fome- thing elfe than inftlna:, he alfo has feveral inftinc- tive propenfities, fome of them independent of, and fome of them intermixed with his moral difpofitions. Of the firft kind are hunger, thirft, and fome others^ of the lad is the storge, or parental . tendcmefs towards offspring.
On inftind we fhall only fay farther, that it leads more immediately to the appointment of the Creator, and whether^ in man or in other crea- tures, operates more early and more uniformly thanreafon.
LECTURE II.
^^^ /CONSIDERING man as an individual, V->4 we difcover the moil obvious and re- markable circumftances of his nature, that he is a compound of body and fpirit. I take this for granted here, becaufe we are only explaining the nature of man. When we come to hi^ fentiments and principles of a£lion, it will be more proper to take notice of the fpirituality and immortality of the foul, and how they.are proved.
The body and fpirit have a great reciprocal in- fluence one upon another j the body on the temper and difpoiition of the foul, and the foul on the ftate and habit of the body. The body is properly the miniller of tjie foul, the means of conveying per- ception to it, but nothing without it.
It is needlefs to enlarge on the ftruflure of the body ; this is fullicicntly known to all, except we
Le£l. 2. MORAL PHILOSOPHr. If
defcend to anatomical exadnefs, and then, like all the other parts of nature, it fhews the infinite wif- dom of the Creator. With regard to morals, the influence of the body in a certain view maj be very great in enflaving men to appetite, and yet there does not feem any fuch conneclion with morals as to require a particular defcription. I think there is little reafon to doubt that there are great and eflen- tial diflferences between man and man, as to the fpirit and its proper powers ; but it feems plain^ that fuch are the laws of union between the body and fpirit, that many faculties are weakened, and fome rendered altogether incapable of exercife, merely by an alteration of the ftate of the body. Memory is frequently loft and judgement weakened by old age and difeafe. Sometimes, by a confu- iion of the brain in a fall, the judgement is whol- ly difordered. The inllindtive appetites of hunger and thirft, feem to refide direftly in the body, and the foul to have little more than a paflive percep- tion. Some pallions, particularly fear and rage, feem alfo to have their feat in the body, immediate- ly producing a certain modification of the blood and fpiriis. This indeed is perhaps the cafe in fome degree with all pafTions whenever they are indulged ; they give a modification to the blood and fpirits, which make them eafily rekindled ; but there are none which do fo inilantaneoufly arife from the body, and prevent deliberation, will, and choice, as thefe now named. To coniider the evil paflions to which we are liable, we may fay, thofe that de- pend moll upon the body, are fear, anger, volup-
l8 LECTURES ON Led. 2.
tuoufnefs ; and thofe that depend leall upon it, arc ambition, envy, covetoufnefs.
The faculties of the mind are commonly divided into thefe three kinds, the underftanding, the will, and the affeftions ; though perhaps it is proper to obferve, that thefe are not three qualities wholly diftind, as if they were three different beings, but different ways of exerting the fame fimple prin- ciple. It is the foul or mind that underflands, wills, or is affecled with pieafure and pain. The underftanding feems to have truth for its objeft, the difcovering things as they really are in themfelves, and in their relations one to another. It has been difputed, whether good may be in any decree the objeft of the underftanding. On the one hand, it feems as if truth, and that only, belonged to the un- derftanding; becaufe we can eafily fuppofe perfons of equal intelledtual powers and oppofite moral charac-^ ters. Nay, we can fuppofe malignity joined to a high degree of underftanding, and virtue, or true goodnefs, to a much lower. On the other hand, the choice made by the will feems to have the judgment, or deliberation of the underftanding, as its very foundation. How can this be, it will be faid, if the underftanding has nothing to do with good or evil ? A confiderable oppofttion of fentiments a- mong phiiofophers has arifen from this quefticn. Dr Clark, and fome others, make underftanding or reafon the immedilate principle of virtue. Shaftf- bury, Hutchinfon, and others, make affeftion the principle of it. Perhaps neither the one nor th^ other is wholly right. Probably both are ,41c- celTary.
Lect. 2. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. I^
The conneclion between truth and goodnefs, be- tween the under (landing and the heart, is a fubjeft of great moment, but alfo of great difficulty. I think we may fay with certainty, that infinite per- fection, intellectual and mortil, are united and infe- parable in the Supreme Being. There is not, how- ever, in inferior natures, an exa£t proportion be- tween the one and the other ; yet I apprehend, that truth naturally and neceffarily promotes goodnefs, and falfehood the contrary ; but as the influence is reciprocal, malignity of difpofition, even with the greatefl natural powers, blinds the underilanding, ^d prevents the perception of truth itfelf.
Of the will it is ufual to enumerate four a£ls ; defire, averfion, joy, and forrow. The two lafl, Hutchinfon fays, are fuperfluous, in which he feen^s to be right. All the a£ls of the will may be re- duced to the two great heads of defire and averfion, or, in other words, chufing and refufing.
• The afFe(Elions are called alfo palTions, becaufe often excited by external objects. In as far as they differ from a calm deliberate decifion of the judgement, or determination of the will, they may be called flrong propenfities implanted in our na- ture, which of themfelves contribute not a little to bias the judgement, or incline the will.
The afiedtions cannot be better underftood than by obferving the difference between a calm, deli- berate, general inclination, whether of the felfifh or benevolent kind, and particular violent inclinations* Every man deliberately wifhes his own happinefs ; but this differs confiderably from a pafTionate at- tachmcr^t to particular gratifications, as a love of
20 LECTURES oil Led. 2.
riches, honours, pleafures. A good man will have a deliberate fixed defire of the welfare of mankind ; but this diflfers from the love of children, relations, friends, country.
The paflions are viry numerous, and may be greatly diverliiied, becaufe every thing, however modified, that is the objed of defire or averfion, may grow by accident or indulgence, to fuch a fize, as to be called, and defei*ve to be called, a pafiion. Accordingly we exprefs ourfelves thus in the Eng- lifh language : A pafiion for horfes, dogs, play, &c.
However, all the pafiions may be ranged under the two great heads of love and hatred. To the firfl belong efieem, admiration, good-will, and every fpecies of approbation, delight, and defire ; to the other, all kinds of averfion, and ways of exprefling it, envy, malice y rage, revenge, to whatever objeds they may be directed.
Hope and fear, joy and forrow, though frequent- ly ranked among the pafiions, feem rather to be ftates Or modifications of the mind, attending the exercife of every pafiion, according as its object is probable or improbable, pofle fifed or lofl:.
Jealoufy feems to be a pafiiion of a middle nature, which it is not eafy to fay whether it fiiould be ranked under the head of love or hatred. It is often faid of jealoufy between the fexes, that it fprings from love ; yet, it feems plainly impofiible that it can have place without forming an ill opinion of its obje£l, at leafi: in fome degree. The fame thing jnay be faid of jealoufy and fufpicion in frlendfiiip.
The paflions may [be ranged in two clafles in a dif- ferent way, viz. as they are felfifli or benevolent,
Le£l. 2. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 21
public or private. There will be great occafion to confider this diftin£l:ion afterwards, in explaining the nature of virtue, and the motives that lead to it. What is obferved now, is only to illuflrate our na- ture as it really is. There is a great and real dif- tinftion between paffions, felfifti and benevolent. The firfl point diredly, and immediately at our own intereft in the gratification; the others point imme- diately at the happinefs of others. Of the firfl kind, is the love of fame, power, property, pleafure. And of the fecond, is family and domeftic aff*e6lion, friendfhip, and patriotifm. It is to no purpofe to fay, thaft ultimately it is to pleafe ourfelves, or be- caufe we feel a fatisfa6lion in feeking the good of others ; for it is certain, that the direft obje6l in view, in many cafes, is to promote the happinefs of others ; and for this many have been willing to fa- crifice every thing, even life itfelf.
After this brief furvey of human nature, in one light, or in one point of view, which may be called its capacity, it w^ill be neceffary to return back, and take a furvey of the way in which we become ac- quainted with the objedls about which we are to be converfant, or upon which the above faculties are to be exercifed.
On this it is proper to obfer^^e in general, that there are but two ways in which we come to the knowledge of things, viz. ift, Senfation, 2d, Re- ilecbion.
The firfl of thefe mufl be divided again into two parts, external and internal.
External arifes from the immediate impreflion of obje£ls from without. The external fenfes, in num-
VoL. VII. C
12 LECTURES ON" Le£i:.
#
ber, are five ; feeing, hearing, feeling, tailing, and fmelling.
In thefe are obferrable the impreflion itfelf, or the fenfation we feel, and the fuppofition infepa- rable from it, that it is produced by an external ob- jeft. That our fenfes are to be trufled in the in- formation they give us, feems to me a firft principle, becaufe they are the foundation of all our after rea- fonings. The few exceptions of accidental irre- gularity in the fenfes, can found no jufl objedion to this, as there are fo many plain and obvious ways of difcovering and correfting it.
The reality of the material fyftem, I think, may be eafily eilabliflied, except upon fuch principles as are fubverlive of all certainty, and lead to univerfal fcepticifm ; and perfons who would maintain fuch principles, do not deferve to be reafoned with, be- caufe they do not pretend to communicate know- ledge, but to take all knowledge from us.
The Immaterialifts fay, that we are confcious of nothing but the imprefTion or feeling of our own mind ; but they do not obferve, that the impref- fion itfelf implies and fuppofes fomething external that communicates it, and cannot be feparatcd from that fuppofition. Sometimes fuch rcaf oners tell us, that we cannot Ihew the fubftance feparate from its fcnfible qualities ; no more can any man Ihew me a fenfible quality feparate from a particular fubje£l. If any man will ihew me whitenefs, without fhew- ing me any thing that is white, or roundnefs with- out any thing that is round, I will fhew him the fubftance without either colour or Ihape.
I
Le6l. 2. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 2^
immateriaiifm takes away the diftinflion between •ri'-h and falfehood. I have an idea of a houfe or a tree in a certain place, and I call this true, that is, 1 am of opinion, there is reallj a houfe or a tree in that place. Again, I fprm an idea of a houfe or a tree, as what may be in that place ; I aik what is the difference, if after all, you tell nie, there is neither tree, houfe, nor place, any where exifting. An advocate for that fyftera fays, that truth coniiils in the livelinefs of the idea, than which nothing can be more manifeflly falfe. 1 can form as diftin£l an idea of any thing that is not, as any thing that is, when it is abfent from my fight. 1 have a much more lively idea of Jupiter and Juno, and many of their a£lions, froqii Homer and Virgil, though I do not believe that any of them ever exifted, than I have of many things that I know happened within thefe fev/ months.
The truth is, tho immaterial fyftem is a wild and ridiculous attempt to'cmfettlethe principles of com- mon fenfe by metaphyfical reafoning, which can hardly produce any thing but contempt in the gene- rality of perfons who hear it, and which, I verily believe, never produced conviclion even on the per- fons who pretend to efpoufe it.
LECTURE III,
INTERNAL fenfation is whatMrPIutchinfon calls
the finer powers of perception. It takes its rife
firgm the external objects, but, by abilraftion, con-
24 LECTURES OX Le£t. 3.
fiders Something farther than merely the fenfible qualities
1. Thus, with refped to many objefts, there is a fenfe of beauty in the appearance, ftrufture, or compofition, which is altogether diftinft from mere colour, fhape, and extenfion. How, then, is this beauty perceived ? It enters by the eye, but it is perceived and relilhed by what may be well enough called an internal fenfe, quality, or capacity ©f the mind.
2. There is a fenfe of pleafure in imitation, whence the arts of painting, fculpture, poetry, are often called the imitative arts. It is eafy to fee, that the imitation itfelf gives the pleafure, for we receive much pleafure from a lively defcription of what would be painful to behold.
3. A fenfe of harmony,
4. A fenfe of order or proportion.
Perhaps, after all, the wIioIq of thefe fenfes may be confidered as belonging to one clafs, and to be the particulars which cither fingly, or by the union of feveral of them, or of the whole, produce what is called the pleafures of the imagination. If fo, we may extend thefe fenfes to every thing that en- ters into the principles of beauty and gracefulnefs. Order, proportion, fimplicity, intricacy, uniformity, variety — efpecially as thefe principles have any thing in common that is equally applicable to all the fine arts, painting, ftatuary, architecture, mufic, poetry, oratory.
The various theories upon the principles of beau- ty, or what it is that properly conftitutes it, are of much importance on the fubjefl of tafte and cri-
Le(^. 5. TJORAL PHILOSOFRrr. ^5
ticifm, but of very little in point of morals. Whe- ther it be a fimple perception that cannot be ana- lyfed, or a Te ne fcai quoi, as the French call it, that cannot be difcovered, it is the' fame thing to our prefent purpofe, iince it cannot be denied, that there is a perception of beauty, and that this is very dif- ferent from the mere colour or dimenfions of the objeft. This beauty extends to the form and ihape of vifible, or to the grace and motion of living ob- jefts ; indeed, to all works of art, and productions of genius.
Thefe are called the reflex fenfes fometimcs, and it is of moment to obferve, both that -they really be- long to our nature, and that they are very different from the grolTcr perceptions of external fenfe.
It muft alfo be obferved, that feveral diflinguiftied 'svriters have added, as an internal fenfe, that of mo- rality, a fenfe and perception of moral excellence, and our oblicration to conform ourf elves to it in our
tondu6l.
Though there is no occafion to join Mr Hutch- infon, or any other, in their oppofiiion to fuch as make reafon the principle of virtuous conduft^ yet I think it muft be admitted, that a fenfe of moral good and evil, is as really a principle of our na- lure, as either the grofs external or reflex fenfes, and as truly diilin6l from both, as they are from each other^
This moral fenfe is precifely the fame thing \vixh. what, in fcripture and common language, we call confcience. It is the law which our Maker has written upon our hearts, and both intimates and en- forces duty, previous to all reafoning. The op- C cr
26 LECTURES ON Le£l. 3.
pofers of innate ideas, and of the law of nature, are unwilling to admit the reality of a moral fenfe, yet their objeftions are wliolly frivolous. The neceflity of education and information to the produdion and exercife of the reflex fenfes or j^owers of the imagination, is every whit as great , as to the application of the moral fenfe. Tf, thcrefoie, any one ihould fay, as is often done by Mr Locke, If there are any innate principles, what are they ? enumerate them to me ; if they are effential to man, they muft be in every man ; let me take any artlefs clown, and examine him, and fee if he can tell me what they are. I would fay, if the principles of tafte are natural, they muft be univerfal. Let me try the clown, then, and fee Vs'hether he will agree •with us, either in difcovering the beauty of a poem or pi6lure, or being able to aftign the reafons of his approbation.
There are two fenfes which are not eafily redu- cible to any of the two kinds of internal fenfes, and yet certainly belong to our nature. They are allied to one another — A fenfe of ridicule, and a fenfe of honour and Ihame. A fenfe of the ridi- culous is fomething peculiar ; for though it be ad- mitted, that every thing that is ridiculous is at the fame time unreafonable and abfurd ; yet it is as cer- tain the terms are not convertible, for any thing that is abfurd is not ridiculous. There are an hun- dred falfehoods in mathematics and other fciences, that do not tempt any body to laugh.
Shaftefbury has, through his whole writings, en- deavoured to eftablifli this principle, that ridicule is tlie tell of truth ; but the falfehood of that opinion
Lecl. 3. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 27
appears from the above remark, for there is fome- thing really dlllinft from reafoning in ridicule. It feems to be putting imagination in the place of rea- fjn See Brown's Ellays on the Characleriftics.
A fenfe of honour and Ihame feems, in a certain view, to fubjeft us to the opinions of others, «s ihej depend upon the fentiments of our fellow- creatures. Yet, perhaps we may confider this fen- timent as intended to be an ailiftant or guard to virtue, by making us apprehend reproach from others for what is in itfelf worthy of blame. This fenfe is very ftrong and powerful in its effects, whe- ther it be guided by true or falfe principles.
After this furvey of human nature, let us confider how we derive either the nature or obligation of duty from it.
One way is to confider what indications we have from our nature, of the way that leads to the trueft happinefs. This mufl be done by a careful atten- tion to the feveral clalTes of perceptions and affec- tions, to fee which of them are moll excellent, de- lightful, or delirable.
They will then foon appear to be of three great clalTes, as mentioned above, eafily diHinguifhable from one another, and gradually riling above one another.
1. The gratification of the external fenfes. This affords fome pleafure. We are led to defirfe whai is pleafing, afnd to avoid what is difgullful to them.
2 . The finer powers of perception give a delight ■which is evidently more excellent, and which we mufl necefTarily pronounce more noble. Poetry,
a3 LECTURES ON" LeSi, ^,
painting, mufic, &:c. the exertion of genius, and Qxerc^fe of the mental powers in general, give a pleafure, though not fo tumultuous, much more re- fined, and which does not fo foon fatiate.
3. Superior to both thefe, is a fenfe of moral ex- cellence, and a pleafure arifmg from doing what is dictated bj the moral fcnfe.
It muft doubtlefs be admitted, that this reprefen- tation is agreeable to truth, and that to thofe who would calmly and fairly weigh the delight of moral a6lions, it muft appear fuperior to any other grati- fication, being moll ?ioble, pure, and durable. There- fore we might conclude, that it is to be preferred before all other fources of pleafure, that they are to give way to it v/hen oppofite, and to be no other- wife embraced than in fubferviency to it.
But though we cannot fay there is any thing falfe in this theory, there are certainly very eflen- tial defe£ls. As for example, it wholly confounds, or leaves entirely undillinguilhed, a£ling virtuoufly from feeking happinefs : fo that promoting our own happinefs will in that cafe be the elTence or defini- tion of virtue, and a view to our own intereft will be the fole and complete obligation to virtue. Now there is good ground to believe, not only that reafon teaches us, but that the moral fenfe did:ates to us, fomething more on both heads, viz. that there are difinterefted affeftions that point direftly at the good of others, and that thefe are fo far from meriting to be excluded from the notion of virtue altogether, that they rather feem to claim a preference to the felfilh afFe6lions. I know the friends of the fcheme- of felf-iutcreft have a way of colouring or folving^
1.C&:, 3. MORAL PHILOSOPHT. 2^
this. Thej fay, men only approve and delight in benevolent aiFeftions, as pleafing and delightful to themfelves. But this is not fatisfjing, for it feems to weaken the force of public affeftion very much, to refer it all to felf-intereft, and when nature feems to -be carrying you out of yourfelf, by ftrong in- flinftive ppopenfities £>r implanted affections, to turn the current and direction of thefe into, the ftream of felf-intereft, in which experience tells us we are mofl apt to run to a vicious excefs.
Befides it is affirmed, and I think with good rea- fon, that the moral fenfe carries a good deal more in it than merely an approbation of a certain clafs of actions as beautiful, praife-worthy, or delightful, and therefore finding our interell in them as the moft noble gratification. The moral fenfe implies alfo a fenfe of obligation, thatfuch and fuch things are right, and others wrong ; that we are bound in duty to do the one, and that our conduft is hatefiil, blame able, and deferving of puniihment, if we do the contrary ; and there is alfo in the moral fenfe or confcience, an apprehenfion or belief that reward and punifiiment will follow, according as we fball ad in the one way, or in the other.
It is fo far from being true, that there is no more in virtuous aftion than a fuperior degree of beauty, or a more noble pleafure, that indeed the beauty and fweetnefs of virtuous action arifes from this very circumllance — that it is a compliance with duty or fuppofed obligation. Take away this, and the beauty vanillies, as well as the pleafure. Why is it more pleafant to do a jull or charitable ftftion, than to fatisfy my palate with delightful
30 LECTURES ON" Left. 3.
meat, or to walk in a beautiful garden, or read aa cxquifite poem ? only becaufe I feel myfelf under an obligation to do it, as a thing ufeful and im- portant in itfelf. It is not duty becaufe pleafing, but pleaiing becaufe duty. The fame thing may be fiiid of beauty and approbation. I do not ap- prove of the conduft of a plain, honeft, induflrious^ pious man, becaufe it is more beautiful than tha. of an idle profligate, but I fay it is more beautiful and amiable, becaufe he keeps v/ithin the bounds of his duty. I fee a higher fpecies of beauty in moral adion : but it arifes from a fenie of obliga- tion. It may be faid, that my intereft and duty are the fame, becaufe they are infeparable, and the one arifes from the other ; but there is a real difr tindlion and priority of order. A thing is not my duty, becaufe it is my intereft, but it is a wife ap- pointment of nature, that I ihall forfeit my intereft, if I negledt my duty.
Several other remarks might be made to confirm this. When any perfon has by experience found, that in feeking pleafure he embraces a lefs plealing enjoyment, in place of one more delightful, he may be fenlible of miftake or misfortune, ' but he has nothing at all of the feeling of blame or felf- *;ondemnatlon ; but %vhen he hath done an immoral action, he has an inward remorfe, and ft-els that lie lias broken a law, and that he ought to have don© i>tlierwifip.
Left. 4. KORAL PHILOSOPHY. 3I
LECTURE IV.
THIS , therefore, lays us under the neceffity of fearching a little further for the principle of moral action. In order to do this with the greater accuracy, and give you a view of the chief contro- verfies on this fubjecl, obfer%-e, that there are really three queftions upon it, which mull be inquired into, and diflinguifhed. I am fenlible, they are fo intimately connected, that they are fometimes ne- ceffarilj intermixed ; but at others, not diftinguilh- ing leads into error. The queftions relate to,
1 . The nature of \^ue.
2. The foundation of \4rtue.
3. The obligation of virme.
When we inquire into the nature of virtue, we do enough when we point out what it is, or ihew how we may come to the knowledge of every par- ticular duty, and be able to diftinguilh it from the opposite vice. When we fpeak of the foundation of virtue, we aik or anfwer the queftion. Why is it fo ? Why is this courfe of a£tion preferable to the contrary ? What is its excellence ? When we fpeak of the obligation of \-irtue, we aik, By what law we are bound, or from what principles we ought to be obedient to the precepts which it con- tains or prefcribes ?
After fpe^iking fomething to each of thefe — to the controverfies that have been raifed upon tliem— . and the propriety or iic*^i:t4^ce of entering far
^- . A^
3 a LECTURES ON Le(^. 4.
into thefe controverlies, or a particular decifion of them, I fhall proceed to a detail of the moral laws, or the feveral branches of dutj, according to the di\nfion firft laid down.
I . As to the nature of virtue, or what it is ; or, in Other words, what is the rulo by which I muft try every difputed pra6lice — that I may keep clear of the next queftion, you may obferve, that upon all the fyftems they muft have recourfe to one or more of the following, viz. Confcience, reafon, ex- perience. All who found virtue upon affection, particularly Hutchinfon, Shafteft)ury, and their fol- lowers, make the moral fenfe the rule of duty, and very often attempt to exclude the ufe of reafon on this fubjed. Thefe authors feem alfo to make be- nevolence and public affeclion the ftandard of virtue, in diftin6lion from all private and felfifh pallions.
Dr Clark, and moft Englifti writers of the laft age, make reafon the ftandard of virtue, particu- larly as oppofed to inward fentiment or affeftion. They have this to fay particularly in fupport of their opinion, that reafon does in fa£t often controul and alter fentiment ; whereas fentiment cannot alter the clear deciiions of reafon. Suppofe my heart dic- tates to me any thing to be my duty, as, for ex- ample, to have compaffion on a perfon detefted in the commiflion of crimes ; yet if, upon cool re- flection, I perceive that fuftering him to go unpu- niftied will be hurtful to tlie community, I coun- terad the fentiment from the deductions of reafon.
Again : Some take in the aid of experience, and chiefly aft upon it. All particularly who are upon the felfifti fcbeme, find it neceflfary to opake expe-
Led. 4. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. ^^
rience the guide, to {hew them what things are really conducive to happinefs, and what not.
We ihall proceed to confider the opinions upon the nature of virtue, the chief of which are as fol- low.
1. Some fay that virtue coiifiils in a£ting agree- ably to the nature and reafon of things ; and that we are to abftrad from all affection, public and private, in determining any quellion upon it. —
2. Some fay that benevolence or public afFeftioa is virtue, and that a regard to the good of the whole is the ftandard of virtue. What is moll remark- able in this fpheme is, that it makes the fenfe of obligation in particular inilances give w^ay to a fup- pofed greater good. — Hutchifiso7i.
3. One author (Wollafton Rel. of Nat. delineated) makes truth the foundation of virtue ; and he re- duces the good or evil of any adion to the tinitli or falfehood of a proportion. This opinion differs not in fubllance, but in words only, from Dr Clark's.
4. Others place virtuo in felf-love, and make a well regulated felf-love the ftandard and foundation of it. This fcheme is befl defended by Dr Camp- bell, of St Andrew's.
5. Some of late have made fympathy the ftand- ard of virtue, particularly Smith, in his Theory of Moral Sentiments. He fays we have a certain feeling, by which we fympathife, and, as he calls it, go along with what appears to be right. This is but a new phrafeology for the moral fenfe.
Vol. VII. D
34 LECTURES 0?i Lccl. 4.
6. David Hume has a fcheme of morals that is peculiar to himfelf. He makes every thing that is agreccible and useful virtuous, and vice versay by which he entirely annihilates the difference be- tween natural and moral qualities, making health, iirength, cleanlinefs, as really virtues as integrity and truth.
7. We have an opinion publlfhed in this country, that virtue coniifts in the love of being, as fuch.
Several of thefe authors do eafily and naturally incorporate piety with their fj-flem, particularly Clark, Hutchinfon, pampbell, and Edwards.
And there are feme Vv^ho begin by eflabliihing natural religion, and then found virtue upon piety. This amounts to the fame thing in fubflance ; for reafoners upon the nature of virtue only mean to Ihew what the Author of nature has pointed out as duty. And after natural religion is eilabliflied on general proofs, it will remain to point out what are its laws, which, not taking in revelation, muft bring us back to confider our own nature, and the rational dedu£lion from it.
• 2. The opinions on the foundation of virtue may be fummed up in the four following. -
I. The will of God. 2. The reafon and na- ture of things. 3. The public intereil. 4. Private intereft. .
I. The will of God. By this is not meant what was mentioned above, that the intimations of the di- vine will point out what is our duty ; but that the reafon of the difference between virtue and vice is to be fought ho where elfe than in the good plea- fure of God ; that there is no intrinfic excellence
Led. 4. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 35
in any thing but as he commands or forbids it. They pretend that, if it were otherwife, there would be fomething above the Supreme Being, fomeihing in the nature of tilings that would lay him under the law of neceiSty or fate. But notwiih Handing the difficulty of our forming clear conceptions on this lubjeft, it feems very harOi and unreafonable to fay, that the diilerence between virtue and vice is no other than the divine will. This would be taking away the moral character even of God him- felf. It would not have any meaning, then, to fay he is iniinitely holy and infinitely perfect. But probably thofe who have alTerted this, did not mean any more, than that the divine will is fo perfect and excellent, that all virtue is reduced to conformity to it ; and that v/e ought not to judge of good and evil by any other rule. This is as true as that the di^4ne condud: is the llandard of wifdom.
2. Some found it in the reafon and nature of things. This may be faid to he true, but not fuf- ficiently precife and explicit. Thofe who embrace tin's principle fucceed beft in their reafoning, v.hen endeavouring to ihew that there is an effentiai dif- ference between virtue and vice. But when they attempt to ihew wherein this difference doth or can confift, other than public or private happinefs, they fpeak with very little meaning.
3. Public happinefs. This opinion is, that the foundation of virtue, or that which makes the dif- tinftion between it and vice, is its tendency to prc- rAote the general good ; fo that utility at bonom is the principle of virtue, even with the great patrons of diiinterelled afFeclion.
D 2
36 LECTURES ON Lect. 4.
4. Private happinefs. Thofe who choofe to place the foundation of virtue here, would have us to confider no other excellence in it than what imme- diately conduces to our own gratification.
Upon thefe opinions I would obferve, that there is fomething true in every one of them, but that they may be easily puflied to an error by excefs.
The nature and will of God is fo perfed as to be the true ftandard of all excellence, natural and moral : and if we are fure of what he is or com- mands, it would be prefumption and folly to reafon againft it, or put our views of fitnefs in the room of his pleafure ; but to fay, that God, by his will, might have made the fame temper and conducl virtuous and excellent, which we now call vicious, feems to unhinge all our notions of the fuprem« excellence even of God himfelf.
Again, there feems to be in the nature of things an intririic excellence in moral worth, and an in- delible impreffion of it upon the confcience, dif- tin6l from producing or receiving happinefs, and yet we cannot eafily illuftrate its excellence, but by- comparing one kind of happinefs with another.
Again, promoting the public or general good feems to be fo nearly conne£led wiih virtue, that we miuft necelTarily fuppofe that univerfal virtue could be of univerfal utility. Yet there are two excefles to which this has fometimes led. One, the fatalifl and necefTitarian fchemes, to which there are fo many objedlions ; and the other, the making the general good the ultimate praftical rule to every particular pcrfon, fo that he may violate par-
Left. 4. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 37
ticular obligations with a view to a more general benefit.
Once more, it is certain, that viitue is as really connected with private as with public happinels, and jet to make the intereil of the agent the only- foundation of it, feems to narrow the mind, and to be fo deftruclive to the public and generous affec- tions, as to produce the mofl hurtful effects.
If I were to lay down a few propofitions on the foundation of \irtue, as a philofopher, they fhould be the following.
1. From reafon, contemplation, fentiment, and tradition, the being, and infinite perfection and ex- cellence of God, may be deduced ; and therefore what he is, and commands, is virtue and duty. Whatever he has implanted in corrupted nature as a principle, is to be received as his will. Propen- sities refilled and contradid:ed by the inward prin- -cipie of confcience, are to be coniidered as inhe- rent or c outraged vice.
2. True virtue certainly promotes the general good ; and this may be made ufe of as an argu- ment in doubtful cafes, to determine whether a particular principle is right or wrong; but to make the good of the whole our immediate principle of action, is putting ourfelves in God's place, and ac- tually fuperfeding the necefTity and ufe of the par- ticular principle of duty which he hath imprefied upon the confcience. As to the whole, I believe the univerfe is faultlefs and perfed, but I am un- willing to fay it is the best poflible fyllem, becaufc I am not able to imderftand fuch an argument, and becaufe it feems to me abfurd that infinite perfect
I>3
38 LECTURES ON" LeSi. 4.
tion fliould exhaufl or limit itfelf by a created pro- duclion.
3. There is in the nature of things a difference between virtue and vice ; and however much virtue and happinefs are connected bj the divine law, and in the event of things, we are made fo as to feel towards them, and conceive of them, as dif- tincl. We have the fimple perceptions of duty and intereft.
4. Private and public intereft may be promoted by the fame means, but they are diftinft \aews ; they fliould be made to affift, and not deftroy each other.
The refult of the whole is, that we ought to take the rule of duty from confcience, enlightened by reafon, experience, and every way by which we can be fuppofed to learn the will of our Maker, and his intention in creating us fuch as we are. And we ought to believe, that it is as deeply founded as the nature of God himfelf, being a, tranfcript of his moral excellence, and that it is produdive of the greateft good.
LECTURE V.
><. XT remains only that we fpeak of the obligation of virtue, or what is the law that binds us to the perform.ance, and from what motives or prin- ciples we ought to follow its di<?:ates.
The fentiments upon this fubje£l differ, as men have different views of the nature and foundation
Left. 5. MORAL PHILOSOPHT. 39
of virtue, yet they may be reduced within nar- rower bounds.
The obligation of virtue may be eafily reduced to two general kinds, duty and interefl. The firft, if real, implies that we are under fome law, or fubjeft to fome fuperior, to whom we are account- able. The other only implies that nature points it out to us as our own greateft happinefs, and that there is no other reafon why we ought to obey.
Now, I think it is very plain, that there is more in the obligation of virtue, than merely our greateft happinefs. The moral fentiment itfelf implies that it is duty, independent of happinefs. This pro- duces remorfe and difapprobation, as having done what is blame able and of ill defert. We have two ideas very diitiiift, when we fee a man miflaking his own interefl, and not obtaining fo much happi- nefs as he might, and when we fee him breaking through every moral obligation. In the flrft cafe, w^e confider him as only accountable to himfelf ; in the fecond, we conlider him as accountable to fome fuperior, and to the public. Tiiis fenfe of duty is the primary notion of law and of rights, taken in their moft extenfive signification, as including eve- ry thing we think we are entitled to expe£l from others, and the negleft or violation of which we coniider as wrong, unjuft, vicious, and therefore blameable. It is aHb affirmed with great apparent reafon by many, particularly Butler, in his Analogy and his Sermons, that we have a natural feeling of ill defert, and merited pimifhment in vice. The patron;* of the felfifli ideas alone, are thofe who coilh. £ne the obligation of virtue to happinefs.
40 LECTURES OX Led. 5.
But of thofe who are, or would be thought, of tlie oppofite fentiment, there arc fome who differ very confiderably from others. Some who profefs great oppofition to the felfifh fcheme, declare alfo great ayerfion to founding the obligation of virtue in any degree on the will of a fuperior, or looking for any fanftion of punifliment, to corroborate the moral laws. This they efpecially treat with 'contempt, when it is fuppofed to be from the Deity. Shaftf- bury fpeaks with great bitternefs againil taking into view a future ilate of what he calls more ex- tended fclf-interefl. He fays men ihould love vir- tue for its own fake, without regard to reward and puniihment. In this he has been followed by many reafoners, as far as their regard to religion would permit them.
If, however, we attend to the dictates of coni- fcience, we fhall find evidently a fenfe of duty, of felf-approbation, and remorfe, which plainly fliew us to be undfer a law, and that law to have a fanc- tion : what e1fe is the meaning of the fear and ter- ror, and apprehenfions of guilty perfons ? ^porum mentes. si recludaiitur, Sec. fays Cicero.
Nor is this all, but we have all certainly a natural fenfe of dependence. The belief of a Divine Being is certainly either innate and neceflary, or handed dov/n from the firll man, and can now be well fup- ported by the cleareft reafon. And our relation to him not only lays the foundation of many moral fentiments and duties, but completes the idea of morality and law, by fubj eating us to him, and teaching us to conceive of him, not only as our Maker, Preferver, and Benefador, but as our righ-
Left. 5. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 4I
teous Governor and fupreme Judge. As tKe being and perfections of God are irrefragably eftabliihedj the obligation of duty muft ultimately reft here.
It ought not to be forgotten, that the belief or ap- prehenfion of a future ftate of rewards and punilh- ments has been as univerfal as the belief of a Deity, and feems infeparable from it, and therefore muft be confidered as the fanftion of the moral law. Shaftfbury inveighs feverely againft this, as making man virtuous from a mercenary view ; but there are two ways in which we may conlider this mat- ter, and in either light his objections have little- force, (i.) We may connder the primary obliga- tions of virtue, as founded upon a fenfe of its own excellence, joined with a fenfe of duty and depend- ence on the Supreme Being, and rewards and pu* nifhments as a fecondary motive, which is found ia fa6l to be abfolutely necefTary to reftrain or re- claim men from vice and impiety. Or, (2.) We may connder, that, by the light of nature, as well as by revelation, the future reward of virtue is confi- dered as a ftate of perfed virtue, and the happinefs is reprefented as ariling from this circumftance. Here there is nothing at all of a mercenary prin- ciple, but only an expedlation that true goodnefs, which is here in a ftate of imperfection, and liable to much oppofition, ftiall then be improved to the higheft degree, and put beyond all poftibility of change.
We may add to thefe obligations, the manifeft ten- dency of a virtuous conduct to promote even our prefent happinefs : this, in ordinary cafes, it does ; and when joined with the fteady hope of futurity.
4^ LECTUKES ON Left. 5.
does in all cafes produce a happlnefs fuperior to what can be enjoyed in the praclice of vice. Yet, perhaps, the Stoics of old, v/ho denied pain to be any evn'l, and made the wife man fuperior to all the viciflitudcs of fortune, carried things to a romantic and extravagant height. And fo do fome perfons in modern times, who, fetting afide the confideration of a future ftate, teach that virtue is its own re- ward. There are many fituations in which, if you depiive a good man of the hope of future happi- nefs, his ftate feems very undefirable. On the contrary, fometimes the worft of men enjoy prof- perity and fuccefs to a great degree ; nor do they feem to have any fuch remorfe, as to be an ade- quate puniftiment to their crimes. If any fiiould sniift, that a good man has always fome comfort from within, and a bad man a felf-difapprobation and inward difquiet, fuited to their charafters, I would fay, that this arifes from the expeftation of a future ftalfc, and a hope on the one fide, and fear on the other, of that condition there.
Thofe who declaim fo highly of ^^irtue being its ovvTi reward in this life, take away one of the moft confiderable arguments which, from the dawn of philofophy, has always been made ufe of as a proof of a future ftate, viz. the unequal diftribution of good and evil in this life. Bjefides, they do not feem to view the ftate of bad men properly. When they talk of remorfe of cciifcience as a fufficient puniftiment, they forget that this is feldom to a high degree, but in the cafe of fome grofs crimes. Cru- elty and murder, frequent a£ls of grofs injuftice, are fometimes followed with deep horror of con-
Led. 5. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 4 J
fcienc'e ; and n. courfe of intemperance or lull is often attended with fiicli difmal effefts upon the body, fame, and fortmie, that thofe who fai^vive it a few years are a melancholy fpeftacle, and a burden to themfelves and others. But it would be very loofe morality, to fuppofe none to be bad men, but thofe who were under the habitual condemna- tion of confcience. On the contrary, the far greater part are blinded in their underftandings, as well as corrupt in their praftice. They deceive themfelves, and are st peace. Ignorance and in- attention keep the multitude at peace. And falfe principles often produce felf-juftiiication and ill- founded peace, even in atrocious crimes. Even common robbers are fometimes found to juftify themfelves, and fay, I muft live ; I have a right to my fhare of provifior;, as well as that proud fellow that rolls in his chariot.
The refult of the whole is, that the obligation to virtue ought to take in all the following particulars : A fenfe of its own intrinfic excellence — of its hap- py confequences in the prefent life— a fenfe of duty and fubjeftion to the Supreme Being — and a hope of future happinefs, and fear of future mifery, fronj his decifion.
Having conlidered the reafonings on the nature, foundation, and obligation of virtue, I now proceed to a more particular detail of the moral laws, and fliall take them under the three heads formerly men- tioned, Ethics, Politics, and Jurifprudence.
44 LECTURES ON Le^.6,
LECTURE VI.
AS to the firii, we muft begin with what Is ufually called the Hates of man, or the feve- ral lights or relatir>ns in which he may be confi- dered, as laying a foundation for duty. Thefe ilates may be divided into two kinds, i. Natural. 2. Adventitious.
The natural ftate may be enumerated thus : i . His ftate with regard to God, or natural relation to him. 2. To his fellow-creatures. 3. Solitude or fociety.
4. Peace or war. Perhaps we may add to thefe,
5. His outward proviiion, plenty or want.
Thefe are called natural Ilates, becaufe they are neceffary and univerfal. All men, and at all times, are related to God. They were made by him, and live by his providence. We muft alfo necefiarily know our fellow-creatures, and their ftate, to be iimi- lar to ours in this refpe£l:, and many others. A man muft at all times be independent, or conne£led with fociety- — at peace with others, or at war well — pro- vided, or in want.
The other ftates are called adventitious, becaufe they are the efFecl of choice and the fruit of in- duftry, as marriage — family — mafter and fervant — particular voluntary focieties — callings or profef- fions — chara6lers or abilities, natural and acquired — offices in a conftituted fociety— property — and many particular modifications of each of thefe.
In profecuting the fubjed further, and giving an analyfis of the moral duties founded upon thefe
Lecl. 6. MORAL PHILOSOPHT. 45
ftatcs, I fhall firft take notice of our relation to God, with the proofs of his being and perfecrions, and then confider the moral laws under three heads ; our duty to God, to our neighbour, and to our- felves.
I. Our duty to God. To this place I have re- ferved what was to be faid upon the proof of the being of God, the great foundation of all natural religion ; without which the moral lenfe would be weak and infufHcient.
The proofs of the being of God are general!}- di\'ided into two kinds, i. A priori, 2. A posteriori* The firft is, properly fpeaking, metaphyncal rea- foning downward from the firil principles of fcience or truth, and inferring by juft confequence the being and perfeftions of God. Clark's Demonftration^ &c. (if there be any thing that ihould be called a prioriy and if this is a conclufive method of rea- foning), is as complete as any thing ever publiibed ; perhaps he has carried the principle as far as it will go.
This way of arguing begins by eftablifliing our own exiftence from confcioufnefs. That we are not neceflarily exillent, therefore muft have a caufe ; that fomething muft have exifted from all eternity, or nothing ever could have exifted ; that this Being muft exift by an iatemal neceftlty of nature ; that what exifts neceft'arily muft exift alike every where ; muft be perfect ; aft every where ; be independent, omnipotent, omnifcient, infinitely good, j»ft, true: Becaufe, as all thefe are e\ddently perfeftions or excellencies, that which exifts by a neceftity of na- ture muft be poflefled of every perfedion. And
Vol. VII. E
46 LECTURES ON Lecl. 6.
the contrary of thefe virtues, implying weaknefs or iiifufficiency, cannot be found in the InjRnite Being.
The other medium of proof, commonly called a posteriori, begins with contemplating the univerfe in all its parts ; obferving that it contains many irrefiftible proofs that it could not be eternal, could not be without a caufe ; that this caufe mull be in- telligent; and from the aftonilliing greatnefs, the wonderful adjuflment and complication of things, concludes that we can fet no bounds to the perfec-- tion of the Maker, becaufe we can never exhauft the power, intelligence, and benignity that we fee in his works. In this way of arguing we deduce the moral perfeftions of the Deity from the faint refemblances of them that we fee in ourfelves. As we neceflarily conceive juftice, goodnefs, truth, Sec. to be perfe£lions or excellencies, we are warranted by the plaineit reafon to afcribe them to the Divine Being in an infinite degree.
There is, perhaps, at bottom, no difference be- tween thefe ways of reafoning, becaufe they mufl in fome degree reft upon a corhmon principle, viz. That every thing that exifts muft have a caufe. This is equally necelTary to both the chains of rea- foning, arid muft itfelf be taken for an original fentiment of nature, or an impreffion neceflarily made upon us from all that we fee and are con- verfant with. About this and fome other ideas great ftir lias been made by fome infidel writers, particularly David Kume, who feems to have in- duftrioufly endeavoured to Ikake the certaiftty of our belief upon caufe and effedl, upon perfoi>al
Left. 6. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 47
identity, and the idea of power. It is eafy to raife mctaphjiical fubtleties, and confound the un- dcrilandirig on fuch fubjefts. In oppontion to this, fome late writeisi have advanced, with great appa- rent reafon, that there are certain firil principles, or dictates of common fenfe, which are either limple perceptions, or feen^with intuitive eydence. Thefe are the foundation of all reafoning, and without them, to reaCon is a word without a meaning. Thej can no more be proved than you can prove. an axiom in mathematical fcience. Thefe authors, of Scotland have lately produced and lupported this opinion, to refolve at once all the re5;iements and metaphyfical objections of fome infidel writers.
Tliere is a different fort of argument often made ufe of, or brought. in aid of the others, for the be- ing of God, viz. the confent of all nations, and the univerfal prevalence of that belief. I know not whether we mufl fay that this argument reds alfo upon the principle, that nothing can exi6l without a caufe, or upon the plan juil now men- tioned. If it is an univerfal dictate of our nature,, ive mufl take it as true immediately, without fur^ ther examination.
An autlior I formerly mentioned has fet this ar- gument in a peculiar light, (Dr \Vilfon of New- caftle). He fajs that we receive all om* know- ledge, as philofophers admit, by fenfation and re- flexion. Now, from all that we fee, and ail the reflection and abftra£tion upon it we are capaple of,, he afnrms it is impofllble we could ever form the idea of a fpii'it or a future ftate. JThey have^ however, been early and univerfal, and therefore.
4^ LECTURES ON Lect. 6.
muft have been communicated at firft, and handed down by information and inftru6lion from age to age. So that, unlefs upon the fuppofition of the exiftence of God, and his imparting the knowledge of himfelf to men, it is impolTible that any idea of him could ever have entered into the human mind. There is fomething ingenious, and a good deal of probability, in this way of reafoning.
As to the nature- of God, the firft thing to be obferved is, the unity of God. This is fufficiently eftabliflied upon the reafonings both a priori and posteriori. If thefe reafonings are jufl for the be- ing of God, they are flriftly conclulive for the unity of God. There is a necefiity for the exift- ence of one Supreme Being, the fIrft caufe, but no necefiity for mere ; nay, one fupreme indepen- dent Being does not admit any more. And when we view the harmony, order, and unity of deiign, in the created fyftem, we muft be led to the belief of the unity of God.
Perhaps it may be thought an objeflion to thi , (efpecially if we lay any ftrefs on the univerfal fentiments of mankind), that all nations have been fo prone to the belief and worfnip of a pliurality of gods. But this argument is rather fpecious than folid ; as, however prone men were to worfhip local inferior deities, they feem to have confidered them only as intermediate divinities and interceflbrs be- tween them and the Supreme God.
The perfections of God may be divided into two kinds, Natural and Moral.
I. The natural perfeftions of God are fpirituali- ty, immenfity, wifdom, and power.
Led. 6. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 49
We call thefe natural perfections, becaufe they can be eauij diitiiiguiilied, and in idea at lead le- parated, from goodnefs of dilpoiiiion. It is highly probable, indeed, that fupreme excellence, natural, and moral, muil always reflde in the fame fubjecl, and are truly infeparable : yet we diftinguiih thern^ not only becaufe tlie ideas are diflincl, but becaufe *hey are by no means in proportion to one another in inferior natures. Great powers of mind and perfection of body are often joined to malignity of difpofition. It is not fo, however, in God ; for as; Ills natural perfections are founded on reafcn, fo liis moral excellence is evidently founded in the moral fenfe, or conicience, which he hath implanted in us.
Spirituality is what we may call the -jcry nature of God. It mull be admitted that we cannot at )refent form any complete or adequate idea of a rpirit. And iome, as you have heard formerly, ^nlifl that without revelation we could never have acquired the idea of it that we have. Yet there are many who have reafoned in a very ftrong and ieemingly canclufive manner, to ihew that mind or intelligence mull be a fubilance altogether diHincl from matter. That all the known properties of matter are incapable of producing thought, as be- ing wholly of a different kind — that maner as fuch^ and univerfally, is inert and divinble ; thought or intelligence, active and uncompounded. See the bell reafoning on this fubjecl in Baxter's Immate-r liality of the Soul.
ImmenHty in the Divine Being is that by whicb Kc is everv vrhere, and equally prefent.. Meta--
50 LECTURES ON Le^l. 6.
phjficians, however, differ greatly upon this fub- jecl. The Cartefians will not admit that place is at all applicable to fpirits. They fay it is an idea wholly arifing from extenfion, which is one of the peculiar and eficntial qualities of matter. The Newtonians, however, who make fo much ufe of the idea of infinite fpace, confider place as eflential to all fubftance, fpirit as well as matter. The dif- ficulties are great on both fides. It is hard to con- ceive of fpirit at all, feparating from it the qualities «f matter ; and after we have attempted to do fo, it feems to be bringing them back to talk of place. And yet it feems not only hard, but impoflible, to conceive of any real being without fuppofing it in fome place, and particularly upon the immenfity of the Deity. It feems to be putting created fpi- rits too much on a level with the infinite Spirit to deny his immenfity. It is, I think, certain, they are either confined to a place, or fo li- mited in their operations, as is no way fo well exprefled as by faying. We are here, and no where elfe. And in this fenfe both parties muft admit the divine immenfity — that his agency is equal, uni- verfal, and irrefiftible.
Wifdom is another natural attribute of God, im^ plying infinite knowledge — that all things, in all their relations, all things exifting, and all things polTible, are the objects of the divine knowledge, Wifdom is ufually confidered as refpe<^ing fome end to be attained ; and it implies the clear difco- very of the befl and moR effedlual means of at- taining it.
heSi. 6. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 5I
Power is the being able to do all things, without limit or reftraint. The omnipotence of God is al- ways conlidered as an eflential perfection, and feems to arife immediately from creation and pro- vidence. It is common to fay that God can do all things except fuch as imply a contradiction, fuch as to make a thing to be and not to be at the fame time ; but this is unnecefTary and foolifh in the way of an exception, for fuch things are not the objects of power at all. They are mere abfurdities in our conception, and indeed we may fay, of our own creation. All things are poffible with God, nothing can withlland his power.
LECTURE VII.
THE moral perfections of God are, holinefs^ juftice, truth, goodnefs, and mercy. Holinefs is fometimes taken in a general and eomprehenlive fenfe, as being the aggregate, im- plying the prefence of all moral excellence ; yet it is fometimes ufed, and that both in the fcrip- ture-revelation and by heathen writers, as a peculiar attribute. In this Mmited fenfe it is extremely dif- ficult to define or explain. Holinefs is that charac- ter of God to which veneration, or the moft pro- found reverence in us, is the correfpondent affec- tion. It is fometimes alfo expreifed by purity ; and when we go to form an idea of it, perhaps we can fcarce fay any thing better, than that it is his being removed at an infinite dillance from the groffelt of material indulgence.
52 LECTURES ON Lecl. 7^
Juftlce is an invariable determination to render to all their due. Juilice feems to be founded on the (Irong and unalterable perception we have of riglit and wrong, good and evil, and particularly that the one deferves reward, and the other pu- nifhment. The internal fandlion, or the exter- nal and providential fanflion of natural laws,, point out the juftice of God. The chief thing that merits attention upon this fubjcd is, the con- troverfj about what is called the vindictive juftice of God : That is to faj, is there in God, or have we a natural fenfe of the propriety of, a difpoiition to in{li£l puniihment, independently of the confe- quences, viz. the reformation of the offender, or the example of others. This loofe moralills often- declaim againft. Yet it feems plain, that the fenfe in our minds of good and ill defert, makes guilt the proper objed of punifhment limply in itfelf. This may have a relation to general order and the good of the whole, which however is out of our reach.
Tfie truth of God is one of his perfections, greatly infilled upon in fcripture, and an elTential part of natural religion. It is infeparable from in- finite perfection ; for any departure from truth mull be confidered as arifing from weaknefs or ne- celTity. What end could be fer^^ed to a felf-fuffi- cient and all-fufficient Being by falfehood or de-- ception ?
Goodnefs in God is a difpofition to communicate happinefs to others. This is eafily underftood. The creation is a proof of it. Natural and moral.
Ledl. 7. MORAL FHrLOSOPHY. 53
evil is no juft objedlion to it, becaufe of the pre- ponderance of happinefs.
Mercy, as diftinguifhed from goodnefs or benig- nity, is his being of a placable nature ; ready to forgive the guilty, or to remit defer\^ed punifh- ment. It has been difputed, how far mercy or placability is difcoverable by reafon. It is not mercy or forgivenefs, unlefs it would have been juft -at the fame time to have puniihed. There are but two ways by which men from reafon may in- fer the attribute of mercy to belong to the Deity. I. Becaufe we ourielves are fenlible of this dilpo- fition, and fee in it a peculiar beauty. 2. From the forbearance of Providence, that finners are not immediately overtaken with punifliment, but have fpace given them to repent. Yet as all the con- clulions drawn from thefe principles muft be vague and general, the expectations of the guilty founded upon them muft be very uncertain. We mufl conclude, therefore, that however ftable a founda- tion there is for the other attributes of God in na- ture and reafon, the way in which, and the terms on which, he will fhew mercy, can be learned from revelation only.
Having conndered the being and perfections of God, we proceed to our duty to him.
This may be conlidercd in two views, as gene- ral and fpecial. j . By the firil I underftand our duty to obey liim, and fubmit to him in all things. This you fee includes every branch of moral duty to our neighbour and ourielves, as well as to God, and fo the particular parts of it will be confidered afterwards. But in this place, coniidering every
54 LECTURES ON Led. 7.
good aftion as an a-fl of obedience to God, we will a little attend to the divine foYereigntj, and the foundation of it.
In fpeaking of the foundation of virtue, I took in a fenfe of dependance and fubje£lion to God. But as men are not to be deterred from bold in- quiries, a further queflion is raifed by feme. What is properlj the foundation of lihe divine do- minion? I. Some found it dire£lly upon Omni- potence. It is impoffible to reiilt his power. This feems to lay us under a neceffity, rather than to convince us of duty. -We ought, however, to think and fpeak of this fubject with reverence, and cer- tainly Omnipotence feems to oblige us to a£tual, if it Ihould not bring us to willing obedience. It is fomewhat remarkable, that in the book of Job, compofed on purpofe to refolve fome difficulties in providence, where God is brought in as fpeaking himfelf out of the whirlwind, he makes ufe of no other argument than his tremendous majelly and irreliftible powder. Yet to reft the matter wholly upon this, feems much the fame as founding virtue on mere will. Therefore, a. Some found the di- vine dominion on his infinite excellence ; they fay it is the law of reafon that tlie wifefl iliould rule, and therefore that infmite perfection is entitled to univerfal fway. Even this, taken feparate and alone, does not feem wholly to fatisfy the mind. If one perfon is wifer than another, it feems reafon- able that the other Ihould learn of him, and imitate him ; but it fcarcely feems a fufficient reafon that the fu-ft fhould have abfolute authority. But per- haps the weaknefs of the argument, taken in this
LeS:. 7. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 55
\4e\v, may arife from the inconiiderable difference bet^veen raan and man, when compared to -the fu- periority of iiniverfal and unchangeable perfection. 3. Some found it upon creation. They faj that God has an abfolute property in all his creatures ; he maj therefore do what he will with his own. This, no doubt, goes a good w^ay, and carries con- fiderable force with it to the mind, the rather that, as vou will afterguards fee, it is fomething fimilar to this in us that lays the foundation of our moft perfefl rights, \az. that the product of our own induftry is properly at our own difpofal.
As upon the foundation of virtue I thought it necefiary to unite the principles of dilTerent "'.vriters, fo upon this fubje6l I think that all the three par- ticulars mentioned ought to be admitted, as the grounds of the divine dominion. Omnipotence, infinite excellence, and the original production and continual prefer^'ation of all creatures.
2. Oiu" duty to God may be confidered more fpecially, as it points out the duties we ov/e imme- diately to liimfelf.
Thefe may be di^^ded into internal and exter- nal. I. The internal are all included under the three following, love, fear, and tnift.
The love of God, which is the firil and great duty both of natural and revealed religion, may be explained in a larger and more popular, or in a more precife and ftricler way.
In the firft, love may be refolved into ihc four folloAving afts, (i.) Efteem, (2.) Gratitude, (3.) Benevolence, (4.) Defire.
S^ LECTURES ON Led. 7.
Thefe four will be found infeparable from true love ; and it is pretty much in the fame order that the a6ts fucceed one another. Love is founded on efteem, on the real or fuppofed good qualities of the objeft. You can no more love that which you defpife, than that which jou hate. Gratitude is alfo infeparable from it, to have a lively fenfe of favours received, and to efteem them for the fake of the perfon from whom they came. Bene- volence, or rejoicing in the happinefs and wiftiing well to the objeft. And, laftly, a defire of a place in his efteem. Whatever we love we defire to poflefs, as far as it is fuited to our faculties.
The ftricler and more precife method of confi- dering the love of God, is to divide it into two branches, benevolence, and defire. And indeed our afFeftions to God feem to be capable of the fame divifion as our affeftions to om* fellow-crea- tures, benevolent and felfiQi. I think it unde- niable that there is a difinterefted love of God, which terminates direftly upon himfelf, without any immediate ^aew to our own happinefs, as well as a difcovery of our great intereft in his favour.
The fecond great duty to God, is fear ; but here we muft carefully diftinguifti this affeftion from one which bears the name, and is difterent from it, at leaft in a moral view it is altogether oppofite. Dutiful fear is what may be otherwife called vene- ration, and hath for its objeft the infinity of the divine perfe^lion in general, but particularly his majefty and greatnefs. The other is merely a fear of evil or punifliment from him : thefe are called fometimes a filial and fervile fear. The firft in-
Led. 7. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 37
creafes, as men improve in moral excellence, and the other is deftroyed. Perfeft love caileth oiu fear. Perhaps, however oppofite, as thej have the fame name, they may be faid to be the fame na- tural aiFedion, only as it takes place in innocent or holy, and in guilty creatures. The fame majefty of God, which produces veneration in the upright, produces horror and apprehenfion of punifhment in the guilty.
The third great duty is tnift. This is a conti- nual dependence on God for every thing we need, together with an approbation of and abfolute re- fignation to his providence.
2. The external duties to God, I fhall briefly pafs oyer, being only, all proper and natural expreflions of the internal fentiments.
It may be proper, however, to take notice in ge- neral of the worfhip due to God, that whether we coufider the nature of things, or the univerfal prac- tice of mankind, in all ages, worfhip, and that not only private, but public and fecial worfhip, is a duty of natural religion.
Some ^f the enemies of revealed religion, have fpoken with great virulence againfl this, as unrea-< fonable, and even dilhouourable to the Divine Be- ing. The fubftance of what they fay is this, that as it would be no part of the character of an emi- nent and good man, to defire and take pleafure in others praiflng him and recounting his good quali- ties, fo it is abfurd to fuppofe, that the Supreme Being is pleafed with incenfe, facrifices, and praif.s. But it ought to be obfer^red, that he does not require thefe act? and exercifes as any gi-atirication to him-
VoL.VII. F
5^ LECTURKS ON Le£l. 7.
felf, but ns in themfelves jufl and neceflary, and fiiitcd to the relation wc Hand in to him, and ufeful for forming our temper and univerfal praftice. We ought alfo to remember, that we muft not immedi- ately and without difcrimination, reafon from what would be praife and blame-worthy among men, to what would be juft or unjufl in God, becaufe the circumftances are very different. Befides, though for any man to delire the applaufc of his fellow- creatures, or be plcafed with adulation, would be a mean and contemptible character, becaufe indeed there is fuch unfpeakable imperfeftion in the bell of men ; yet when any duty or fentiment is fully and manifeftly due from man to man, there is no- thing improper or difhonourable in requiring or expedling it. Thus a parent requires refpe£l: and fubmiflion from his chi.Mren, a mafter from his fervants ; and though the injury is merely perfonal, he thinks himfelf entitled to punifh every expreffion of contempt or difregard. Again, every man who has bellowed lignal favours upon another, experts to fee evidence of a grateful and fenfible mind, and feverely condemns every fentiment «r adlion that indicates a contrary difpoiition.
On the whole, then, we fee, that if the worlhip of God be what is due from us to him, in confequence of the relation w^e Hand in to him, it is proper and necelTary that he fliould require it. To honour God, is to honour fupreme excellence ; for him not to expeft and demand it, would be to deny himfelf.
One other diiEculty I fnall touch upon a little. It refpefts the duty of prayer ; and the obje6lions lie equally againll it on the footing of natural re-
Lecl. 7. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. ^ 59
ligion and revealed. The objeclions are tv/o* I. Why does God, who perfedlj knows all our v^ants, require and expedl prayer before he will fiipply them ?• To this I would anfwer, that he fupplics great multitudes of our wants without our alldng it ; and as to his requiring the duty of prayer, I fay the fame thing as of worfhip in general ;. it is reafonable and neceffary 10 cxprefs, and to increafe upon our minds, a fcnfe of depend- ence, and thereby lay us under an obligarion of properly improving what we receive. 2. The oiher obligation is with regard to the force or efli- cacy of prayer. Why, it is faid, Ihould we pray, when the whole fyflem of divine providence is fixed and unalterable ? Can we poflibly fuppofe that God will change his purpofes, from a regard to our cries or t€ars ? To this fome anfwer no otherwife than as before, that without having any effect upon the event, it has only an effect upon our minds, in bringing us to a right temper. Dr Leechman of Glafgow, in his difcourfe on prayer, makes no other anfwer to this . difficulty. But I lliink to reft it here, and admit that it has no iij- fiuence in the way of cafualty upon the event, would ift a great meafure break the force and fer- vency of prayer. I would therefore fay further, that prayer has a real efficacy on the event, and juft as much as any other fecond caufc. The ob- jeftion arifes from going beyond our depth, and reafoning from the unchangeable purpofc of God to human anions, which is always unjuft and fal- lacious. However unable we may be to explain it^ notwitliftanding the fixed plan of providence, F z
6o LECTURES ON Le^l. 7.
there is a real influence of fecond caufes, both na- tural and moral, and I apprehend the connection between caufe and efFe£t is fimilar in both cafes. If it is fixed from eternity that there fhall be a plentiful crop upon a certain field, I know that nothing whatfoever can prevent it, if otherwife, the efforts of the whole creation cannot produce it ; yet I know as certainly that, hypothetically, if it is not ploughed and fown, there will be no grain upon it, and that if it be properly manured and drefied, it w411 probably be fruitful. Thus, in moral mat- ters, prayer has as real an influence in procuring the bleffing, as ploughing and fowung lias in pro- curing the crop ; and it is as confiftent with the eftablilhed order of nature and the certainty of events in the one cafe, as in the other : for this rea- fon the Stoical fate of old was called the ignava ratio of the Stoics, as they fometimes made ufe of the above fallacious reafoning.
LECTURE VIII.
WE come now to our duty to mart. This may be reduced to a Ihort fum, by a- fcending to its principle. Love to others, fmcere and a6live, is the fum of our duty.
Benevolence, I formerly obferved, ought not to be confidered as the whole of virtue, but it certain- ly the principle and fum of that branch of duty which regards others. We may diftinguifli between, (i.) particular kind
Ltd:. 8. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 6l
affe£lions, and, (2.) a calm and. deliberate good-will to all. The panic ular kind afTeiiions, as to family, friends, .country, leem to be implanted by nature, to llrengtlien the general principle, for it is only or chiefly by doing good to thofe we are particu- larly related to, that we can promote the general happineis.
Particular kind affeclions fliould be retrained and direded by a calm good-will to all. Where- ever our attachments to private perfons prevent a greater good, they become irregular and ex- ec llive.
Some tliink that a calm and fettled good-will to others, is an improvement of the particular affec- tions, and ai'ifes from the more narrow to the more exterxiive ; from family, friends, country, to all our fellow-creatures. But it feems more reafon- able to fay, that the geneial afle£lion is a didtatc of our confcience>)of a fuperior kind. If it were only an increafe and extenlion of private afFedion, it would grow more weak, as the diftance from ourfelves increafed, whereas in fud the more en- larged affeclions are intended to be more powerful than the confined.
When we are fpeaking of kind aftedlons, it will not be improper 10 obfer^^e that fome unbelievers have obje6bed againfl the gofpel, that it does not recommend private friendiliip and the love of our country. But if fairly conlidered, as the fcriptarc, both by example and precept, recommends all par- ticular a{Fe£lions, fo it is to its honour, that it fets the love of mankind above them every one, and by fo much infilling on the forgivencfs of injuries and ^3 '
6a LECTURES ON Led:. 8.
the love of enemies, it has carried benevolence to the greateft perfcftion. The parable of the Sa- maritan, in anfwer to the quellion. Who is my neighbour ? is one of the greatefl beauties in moral painting any where to be feen.
The love of our country, to be fure, is a noble and enlarged afFedion ; and thofe who have facri- ficed private eafe and family-relations to it, have become illuflrious ; yet the lo^-e of mankind is flill greatly fuperior. Sometimes attachment to country appears in a littlenefs of mind, thinking all other nations inferior, and fooliOily believing that knowledge, virtue, and valour are all confined to themfelves. As the Romans long ago made the Piimcajides to mean deceit,, fo there are not want- ing among us thofe who think that all the French are interefted, treacherous, and cowardly.
On the great kw of Ibve to others, I fliall only fay further, that it ought to have for its objedl their greateft and beft intereft, and therefore implies wiftiing and doing them good in foul and body.
It is neceffary now to defcend to the application of this principle to particular duties, and. to exa- mine what are the rights or claims that one man has upon another.. Rights and obligations are cor- relative terms.. Whatever others have a juft right or title to claim from me,, that is my duty, or what I am obliged to do to them.
Right in general may be reduced, as to its fource, to the fupreme law of moral duty ; for whatever men are in duty obliged to do, that they have a claim to, and other men are confidered as under an obligation to permit tliem. Again, r.r
LeCt. 8. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 6^
our own happinefs is a lawful objed or end, we are fuppofed to have each a right to profecute this ; but as our profecution may interfere, we limit each others rights, and a man is faid to have a right or power to promote his own happinefs only by thofe means which are not in themfelves criminal or in- jurious to others.
Rights may be divided or clafled in feveral diffe- rent ways ; an attention to all of which is of ufe on this fubje6L. Rights may be,
(i.) Natural or acquired. Natural rights are fuch as are effential to man, and univerfal ; — ac- quired are thofe that are the fruits of induftry, the effefts of accident or conqueft. A man has a na- tural right to a£l for his own prefervation, and to defend himfelf from injury, but not a natural right to domineer, to riches, (comparatively fpeaking) or to any particular office in a conftituted ftate.
(2.) Rights are confidered as perfeft and im- perfeft. Thofe are called perfect rights which can be clearly afcertained in their circumflances, and which we may make ufe of force to obtain when they are denied us. Imperfe£i: rights are fuch as we may demand, and others ought to give us, yet we have no title to compel them. Self- prefervation is a perfect right, but to have a grate- ful return for a favour is not a perfect right.
All the duties of juftice are founded on the per- fed rights j thofe of mercy generally on the imper- feft rights.
The violation of an imperfe£b right is often as great an a6l of immorality as that of a perfect light. It is often as immoral, or more fo,. to refufe
64 LECTURES ON Left. 8.
to fupplj the neccflitous, or to do it too fparmgly,- as to commit a fmall injury againft a man's perfon or fortune. Yet the lall is the breach of a perfeft right, and the other of an imperfect.
Human laws reach only, in ordinary cafes, to the perfeft rights. Sometimes imperfe£l rights, by be- ing carried far, become perfect, as humanity and gentlenefs in a parent to a child may be fo grofsly violated as to warrant the interpoHtion of human •authority. '
(3.) Rights are alienable and unalienable. The firfl we may, according to juftice and prudence, furrender or give up by oar own a(El ; the others v/e may not. A man may give away his own goods, lands, money. There are feveral things which he cannot give away, as a right over his own knowledge, thoughts, &:c. Others, which he ought not, as a right to judgp for himfelf in all mat- ters of religion, his right of felf-prefer\^ation, pro- viiion, &c. Some fay that liberty is unalienable, und that thofe who have even given it away m.ay lawfully refume it.
The diflinftion between rights as alienable and unalienable is very different from that of natural and acquired. Many of the rights which are ilriftly natural and univerfal, may be alienated in a ftate of fociety for the good of the whole, as well as of private perfons ; as for example, the right of felf-defence ; this is in a great meafure given up in a flate of civil government into the hands of the public, and the right of doing juftice to our- felves or to others in matter of property, is wholly given up.
Lecl. 8. MORAL PHILOSOPHT. 6$
(4.) Rights may be confidered as they differ with regard to their obje^l. i. Rights we have over our own perions and aftions. This clafs is called liberty. 2. Rights over things or goods which belong to us. This is called property. 3. Rights over the perfons and adions of other men. This is called authority. 4. Rights in the things which are the property of others, which are of fe- veral forts.
When we come to the fecond great diviiion of moral philofophy, politics, the above diftinftions will be more fully explained ; at prefent it is fuf- ficient to point at them in order, to {hew what are the great lines of duty from man to man.
Our duty to others, therefore, may be all com- prehended in thefe two particulars, jullice and mercy.
Juflice confift» in giving or permitting others to enjoy whatever they have a perfect right to, and making fuch an ufe of our own rights as not to en- croach upon the rights of others. There is one writer, David Hume, who has derided the duty of juftice, refohnng it wholly into power and con- veniency ; and has affirmed that property is com- mon, than which nothing can be more contrary to reafon ; for if there is any thing clear as a dictate of reafon, it is, that there are many rights which men feverally pofTefs, w^hich others ought not to \-iolate. The foundation of property in goods, I wiU afterwards fhew you, is plainly laid in the fo- ciai ft ate.
Ar other virtue which this author ridicules is chaftity. This, however, will be found to be iu.
66 LECTURES ON Le(fl. 8.
eluded in juftice, and tcrbe found in the fentiments of all nations, and to have the clearell foundation hath in nature and public utility.
Mercy is the- other great branch of our duty to man, and is the exercife of the benevolent prin- ciple in general, and of the feveral particular kind aifecbions. Its acts, generally fpeaking, belong to the clafs of imperfect • rights, which are ftrongly binding upon the confcience, and abfolutely nccef- fary to the fubiiftence of human fociety ; yet fuch as cannot be enforced with rigour and precifion by human law^s.
Mercy may be generally explained by a readi- nefs to do all the good offices to others that they Hand in need of, and are in our power, unlefs they are oppofed to fome perfect right, or an imperfed^ one of greater moment.
LECTURE IX.
THE third clafs of moral duties is what con- tains our duty to ourf valves.
This branch of duty is as real and as much founded in the moral principle, as any of the for- mer. Confcience as clearly lefliiies the evil of ne- glefting it, and vicious condud in this refped does generally lead us diredly not only to mifery, but to fliame.
We may, I think, divide our duties to ourfelves into two heads, which will be both dlilind and
Led. 8. MORAL PHiLosoPHT. 6y
comprehenfive, i. Self-government. 2. Self-in- tereft.
The firil of thefe is to keep our thoughts, de- fires, and affeftions, in due moderation. If it be alked. What is due moderation ? I anfwer, it may be difcovered three ways, (i.) When the indul- gence interferes with our duty to God, (2.) To ourfelves, and, (3.) To our neighbour.
When our thoughts or defires are fuch as to be contrary to the love, fear, or truft we owe to God, then they are to be reilrained and brought into fub- jeclion — Thus are generated the virtues of htimi- lity, contcntjnenty patience, and fuch as are allied to them.
When our thoughts and inward temper are fuch as to be any way injurious to others, they muft be governed and retrained ; hence arifes the obliga- tion to guard againft all the immoral paffions, which will produce meeknefs and compofure of fpirit.
And when we have got but a little experience, we fball fpeedily find that an exceffive indulgence of any paflion, Icve, hatred, anger, fear, difcom- pofes us exceedingly, and is an evil inftead of a blefling. We fhall therefore perceive the neceffi- ty of continence, felf-denial, fortitude, reftraint, and moderation in every thing how good foever.
2. The other general branch of duty to ourfelves may be called felf-intereil. This, taking in natu- ral religion, includes our relation to tlie Divine Being, and attending particularly to that of procTU- ring liis favour. Therefore it is a prime part of our duty to ourfelves, to guard againfl any thing
68 LECTURES ON Lecl. 5.
that may be hurtful to our moral characler, or reli- gious hopes.
2. We ought to be acSbive and diligent in acqui- ring every thing neceffary for life and comfort. Moll of our duties to ourfelves, refemble the du- ties of juftice and mercy to others. If there are certain offices due them, and if they have rights and claims in confequence of their flate and rela- tions, the fame is the cafe with ourfelves. We are therefore to take all proper methods to preferve and acquire the goods both of mind and body. To acquire knowledge, to preferve health, reputation, pofTefTions.
The whole muft be kept within fome limits ; chiefly we muft guard againft interfering with the rights of others.
It will be proper, before concluding this part of the fubje£l, to take notice of the opinions of the ancients, particularly their enumeration of what are called the cardinal virtues.
Their cardinal virtues were justice^ temperance^ prudence, -axidfoj'titude. Juftice included the whole of our duty to our neighbour. Humanity or bene- volence, you fee, is kept out of view, though a vir- tue of the firft clafs ; but all its exercifes are with them ranked under the heads of juftice ; tempe- rance was by them considered as much more exten- five than beinf{ moderate in the ufe of meats and drink, to which the Englilh word is chiefly con- fined. The Egkrateia of the Greeks, fignified not only abflinence in meats and drink, but continence or purity, and a moderation of all our dcfires of whatever kind, of fame and riches, as well as plea-
Le£l. 9. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 69
fares. Prudence, even in the way they generally explain it, feems fcarcely to be a moral, or fo much as a natural quality. Prudence, they fay, is taking the wifeft courfe to obtain fome good end. The placing this among the cardinal virtues will fliow how matters flood among them. Great parts or talents were in high efteem. They did not very fully diftinguifli between a good man and a great man. Prudence feems rather an embellifliment of an illuftrious charader, than a moral virtue. An- other reafon why prudence feems to have held fuch a place among the ancients was, that their chief foundation for virtue was interell, or what will pro- duce happinefs. The inquiry upon this fubjedl was, what is the summum honum. Now, to this prudence is very neceffary. Agreeably to all this, they commonly called the virtuous man, the wise 7?:an, and he was always an hero.
Fortitude is eafily underftood, and may be con- fidered in two lights, as active and pafiive, which gives the two great virtues of patience and va- lour.
■ One of the moil remarkable qualities in morals among the ancients, v;as the debate upon the Sto- ical polition, That pain is no evil, nor pleafure any good. This arifes from comparing external thmgs w^ith the temper of the mind, when it appears without doubt, that the latter is of much more con- fequence to happinefs than the- former. They ufed to reafon thus : Outward polTeflions, "when be- llowed upon a bad man, make him no better, but worfe, and finally more miferable. How, then, cr.n thefe be goods in themfelves, which become good Vol. VII. G
70 LECTURES o>5r Le6l. 9,
or evil, according to the ftate of him that ufes them. They were therefore called the things in- different. There was fomething ftrained and ex- travagant in fome of their writings, and perhaps oftentatious, yet a great deal of true and juft rea- foning. The moft beautiful piece of antiquity in the moral way, is the Tablature of Cebes.
Let us now recapitulate what we have gone through, and then add fome obfervations, or corrol- laries, on the morality of a£lions. We have conft- dered,
1 . The nature of man.
2. The nature, foundation, and obligation ot virtue.
3. Have given a fort of general analylis of the moral lav/s, as pointing out our duty to God, to our neighbour, and to ourf elves.
We miaft now conlider all morality in general as conformity to a law. We have feen above whence ^ this law is coUecled, -and derives its authority. Men may differ, not only as to the foundation, but as to the import or meaning of the law in fome particulars •, but it is always fuppofed that the law exifts.
The morality of anions may be confidered in two different lights, but thefe very nearly related to each other, (i.) As they are ranked and difpofed of by the law itfelf ; (2.) In the conformity or op- pofition of the a£lions to the law.
Under the firft view, an aftion is either com- manded, forbidden, or permitted.
Commanded duties oblige abfolutely, and, as ca- fuifls ufed to fay, semper non vero ad semper; that is to fay, they are obligatory upon all perfons, at the
Left. 9. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 71
feaToas that are proper for them, but not upon every perfon at every time ; becaufe then there could be but one moral duty. All men are obliged to worfhip God, but this only at certain times ; other duties have aKo their place and feafon.
Prohibitions oblige semtef et ad semper^ all per- fons at ail times. We mufl not lie — this obliges every man at every moment, becaufe no time or circumflances can make it lawful.
On permiffion v>'e may obfer\-e feveral things.
1. There is, asfome fay, a two-fold permiiHon, the cne full and abiolute, which not only gives us a right to certain things with impunity, but implies a pofitive approbation of the legiilator, and the other implies only that the aclion is left at large, being neither comrtanded nor forbidden.
2. PermiiTion in natural law^s always implies the approbation of the legiilator ; and whatever is done in confequence of it, is innocently done, for God and conlcience do not permit, or pafs uncondemned, any bad aftions.
3. It is otherwife in human laws ; if they leave any aftion open, it may be done with impunity, and yet by no means with approbation. I may have a right by human laws to fay things in a co- vered and couched manner, v.hich yet may carry in them the highefl degree of malignity.
4. The truth is, v-hen we confider the morality of aclion in a itricl or proper manner, the whole clafs of permitted actions vaniihes. They become by their intention and application either good or bad.
G2
7^ LECTURES ON Led:. 9.
Confidering a£lions in their conformity to the laws, a diftin£)-ion arifes fimilar to the former, into good or jufl,' bad and indifferent,
A good aftion muft be wholly conformable to the law in its fubftance, and in all its circumftances. It is not enough that it be materially good, the time muft be proper, and the intention laudable.
A bad a(Sl:ion is that which, either in fubftance or in any circumftance, is contrary to the law.
In confequence of this, ftridly and properly fpeaking, all truly good or juft aftions are equally fo, ariling from a perfeft conformity to the la;/, as all ftraight lines are equally ftraight ; but all bad aftions are not equally bad, as lines may be bent in a different degree from the ftraight diredlion.
IndiiTerent actions (if there tre any truly fuch) are thofe that are permitted, and neither command- ed nor forbidden by the law j but when we coniider the fpirit and principles of true morality, we ftiall find no actions v/holly indifferent, becaufe we are under an obligation to promote the happinefs of ourfelves and others, to which every aftion may be applied immediately or remotely ; and fubjedion to the divine will may make a part of our defign, in doing or forbearing any thing whatever.
In eftimating the morality of aftions, feveral cir- cumftances muft be considered, (i.) The good done. (2.) The principle from which it flows, — felf-intereft of the con traded kind, benevolence, or hope of reward. (3.) The hindrances or oppofi- tion that muft be furmounted, as intereft, inclina- tion, diiTiCulty. An obje£lion feems to arife from this, not ealily folved. If an a£l:on is the more
Le£l. 9. MORAL PHILOSOPHT. J§
virtnous, the more oppofition, internal and external^ that is overcome, then the longer a man has had the habit of virtue ; and the more completely it is formed, the lefs merit in his adions. It feems alfo to take away ail moral excellence from the Deity, who cannot be fuppofed to have the leail oppofition to encounter, either from within or without. This objedion cannot be eafily removed, but by faying, that the oppofition is in no other refpeft an evi- dence of the good moral temper, but as it Ihews the ftreno-th of that inclination that overcomes it ; and therefore, when a moral habit is fo ftrong as to overcome and annihilate all oppofition, it is fo much the more excellent.
An action c^ood in itfelf, may be made criminal by an evil intention.
But no action, in itfelf exil, can be made lawful or laudable by a good intention.
A ma:i is obliged to follow the dictates of con- fciencc ; yet a mlftaken confcicnce does not wholly abfolve from guilt, becaufe he ought to have been at more pains to obtain information.
An action is not virtuous in proportion to its op- pofite being vicious. It is no high degree of vir- tue to love our offspring, or pro%-ide for a family ;. but to negleft either is exceedingly vjcious.
One phenomenon in human nature, nearly con* nected with the moral feelings, has been particu- larly confidered by fome writers, viz. That tiiere is fuch a difpofition in the generality of men to crowd to fee objects of diftrefs, as an extraordinary public execution. What is the defire that prompts to it ? Is xhe fight of mifery a pleafant feeling ? Some
G3
74 . LECTURES ojj" Le£l. 9.
xefolve it merely into curiofity, which they con- fider as a natural and original impreffion. But there feems to be foracthing in it different . from novelty. Others fay its arifes from benevolence, and is an exercife of compafFior, and that we have a llrong natural impulfe to the affeftion of pity, and really feel a pleafure in indulging it. But though every well-difpofed mind is high- ly fufceptible of pity, at leafl of all the benevo- lence and help that pity fuggeits when the obje^l: prefeiits itfelf, we can fcarcely fay that the feel- ing is pleafant, or that we have a delire after fuch objeds, in order to the gratification.
They who re af on on the felfifn fcheme, as ufual, refolve all into private intereil ; they fay we de- light to fee objefts of dillrefs, becaufe it gives us a fecret fatisfa6iion in reflecting upon our own dif- ferent lituation. I believe there is fuch a fatisfac- tion in narrow and contrafted minds ; but to thofe tolerably difpofed it has an oppofite effeft ; it makes them rather confider the calamities which they themfelves are fubje6l to, than thofe from which they are free.
Perhaps it would be bed to take more than one principle to account for this elFe£t. Curiofity mufl make a part, and probably humanity and compaf- fion alfo contribute to it. It feems to be thought fome little alleviation to the fufferer's mifery when others pity him. Yet prudent perfons, knowing how unavailing this pity is, often choofe to be ab- fent.
Sympathy is a particular a^edion in aid of be- nevolence. Yet, like all other private aff:6t-oiis^
Left. 9. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 75
•vhen it is not moderated, it prevents its own c5e£l. One deeplj affefted with the view of an objecl of diitrefs, is ofien thereby incapacitated to aflift him.
Another queftion is fometimes fubjoined to the above, Why men have pleafur* in feeing tragedy, which is a llriking reprefentation of a melancholy cataftrophe ? As far as the fubjed differs from co- medy, it may be accounted for on the fame prin- ciples with the defire to fee objecls of diftrefs. But one powerful principle leads both to ccniedy and tragedy, — a pleafure in the imitative arts ; an exa6t portrait of any cbjecr whatever, gives the hlgheft pleafure, even though the object itfelf were originally terrible or difgulting.
We fee plainly, that an indulgence of the plea- fure given by a fine performance, is what crowds the theatre. Unhappily, to give greater pleafure to a corrupt mind, they often invent fuch fcenes, and conduct the matter fo, as to make the ftage the greatell enemy to virtue and good morals.
LECTURE X,
OF POLITICS.
POLITICS contain the principles of focial u- nion, and the rules of duty in a ft ate of fo- ciety. This is but another and more complete \iew of the fame things, drawn out more fully^
76 LECTURES omr Left. re.
and applied to particular cafes. Political law is the authority of any fociety flamped upon moral duty.
The fifft thing to be confidered, in order to fee upon what principles fociety is formed, is the ftate immediately previous to the focial ft ate. This is called the ftate of nature. Violent and unnc- ceflary controverfies have been made on thatfubjecl. Some have denied that any fuch thing ever exifted ^ that fince there v^ere men, they have always been in a focial ftate. And to be fure this is fo far tme, that in no example or fa£l could it ever Taft long.. Yet it is impoflible to consider fociety as a volun- tary union of particular perfons, without filppoftng thofe perfons in a ftate fomewhat different before this union took place. There are rights, therefore, belonging to a ftate of nature, different from thofe of a focial ftate.
And diftinft focieties, or ftates independent, are at this moment in a ftate of nature, or natural li- berty, with regard to each other.
Another famous queftion has been. Is the ftate of nature a ftate of war or peace ? Hobbes, an author of conftderable note, but of very illiberal fentiments in politics, is a ftrenuous advocate for a ftate of nature being a ftate of war. Hutchinfon and Shaftft)ury plead ftrongly, that a ftate of nature is a ftate of fociety. However oppofite and hoftile their opinions feem to be with regard to each other,, it feems no hard matter to reconcile them. That the principles of our nature lead to fociety, that our happinefs and the improvement of our powers are only to be had in fociety, is of the moft un-
Left. 10. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. ^7
doubted certainty ; and that in our nature, as it is the work of God, there is a real good-will and benevolence to others ; but, on the other hand, that our nature as it is now, when free and independent, is prone to injury, and confequently to war, is equally manifell ; and that in a ftate of natural li- berty, there is no other way but force, for preferv- ing fecurity and repelling injury. The inconve- niences of the natural llate are very many.
One clafs of the above-mentioned writers fay, that nature prompts to fociety ; and the other, that necelliiy and interell obliges to it ; both are equally irue.
Suppofing, then, the flate of natural liberty ante- cedent to fociety to be a reality, let us conilder the perfect and imperfedt rights belonging to that ftate, that we may fee more dillindly hov.^, and why they differ in a focial ftate.
The perfect rights in a ftate of natural liberty, are, (i.) A right to life. (2.) A right to employ his faculties and induftry for his ov/n ufe. (3.) A right to the things that are common and neceffary, as air, water, earth. (4.) Aright to perfonal liber- ty. (5.) A power over his own life, not to throw it away unnecelTarily, but for a good re af on. (6.) A right of private judgement in matters of opinion. (7 .) A right to aftbciate, if he fo incline, with any per- fon or perfoRS whom he can perfuadc, (not force) ; under this is contained the right to marriage. (8.) A right to charafter, that is to fay, innocence, (not fame). It is eafy to perceive that all thefe rights belong to a ftate of natural libexty, and that it would be unjuft and unequal for any individual to hinder
78 LECTURES OK Le&i. 10.
or abridge another in any one of them, without confent, or unlefs it be in juit retaliation for injury- received.
The imperfect natural rights are very numerous, but they are nearly the fame in a flate of nature as in a ftate of fociety, as gratitude, compaflion, mu- tual good offices, if they will be no injury to the perfon performing them. Indeed they muft be the fame in a natural and in a focial ftate, becaufe the very definition of an imperfe£l right is fuch as you cannot ufe force to obtain. Now, what you ought not to ufe force to obtain in a ftate of na- tural liberty, human laws in a well conftituted ftate will not give yoti.
Society I would define to be an aflbciation or eompaft of any number of perfons, to deliver up or abridge fome part of their natural rights, in or- der to have the ftrength of the united body, to proteft the remaining, and to beftow others.
Hobbes, and fome other writers of the former age, treat with great contempt this which is gene- rally called the focial compaft. He infifts that monarchy is the law of nature. Few are of liis fentiments now, at leaft in Britain, yet it is proper to trace them to the foundation.
It is to be admitted, that fociety began firft in- fenfibly by families, and almoft necclTarily. Hence parental authority was the firft law, and perhaps it extended for two or three generations in the early -ages. Though the patrons of monarchy ufe this as an argument, it dpes not favour iheir fcheme. This which they call the patriarchal government, tould not extend far ; or fuppofing it could, there
Le£t. 10. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 79
would be but one rightful king in all the earth, the lineal defcendcnt of Adam's eldeft fon, not to men- tion that the very order of lucceflion in hereditary- right has never been uniform, and is but of late fettled in the European nations.
The truth is, though man, for wife reafons, after- v.'ards to be noticed, continues longer in a family- dependence than other animals, yet in time he becomes sui juris ; and when their numbers are in- creafed, when they either continue together, or re- move and form diftind focieties, it is plain that there muft be fuppofed an exprefled or implied contra£l.
Some fay there is no trace or record of any fuch contra£t in the beginning of any fociety. But this is no argument at all ; for things infeparable from, and eflential to any Hate, commonly take place fo infenfibly, that their beginning is not obferved.
When perfons believe themfelves, upon the whole, raiher oppreffed than protected in any fociety, they think they are at liberty, either to rebel a- gainft it, or to fly from it ; which plainly implies, that theii* being fubject to it arofe from a tacit confent.
Befides, in migrations and planting of colonies, in all ages, we fee evident traces of an original contra£t and confent taken to the principles of union.
From this view of fociety as a voluntary com- paft, refults this principle, that men are originally and by nature equal, and confequently free.
Liberty either cannot, or ought not to be given
8© LECTURES ON Le<^. I®.
Up in the fecial Hate. The end of the union fhould be the protection of liberty, as far as it is a bleff- ing. The definition of liberty in a conftituted go- vernment, will be afterwards explained.
Some obferve, that few nations or focieties in the world have had their conflitutions formed on the principles of liberty : perhaps not one twentieth of the ilates that have been ellabliihed lince the be- ginning of the world, have been fettled upon prin- ciples altogether favourable to liberty. This is no juft argument againft natural liberty and the rights of mankind ; for it is certain, that the public good has always been the real aim of the people in ge- neral, in forming and entering into any fociety. It has alfo conflantly been at leaft the profefled aim of legiflators. Therefore the principle feems to have been admitted, only they have failed or been difappointed in practice by miftalie or deceit. Though perhaps not one twentieth part of man- kind have any tolerable Ikill in the fine arts, it does not follow that there are no fuch arts, or that the principles of them are not founded in nature.
Reafon teaches natural liberty, and common utility recommends it. Some nations have feen this more clearly than others, or have more hap- pily found the means of eftabliiliing: it.
Here, perhaps, we fhould conlider a little the queflion, Whether it is lawful to make men or to keep them flaves, without their confent ? This will fall afterwards to be confidered more fully : in the mean time, obferve, that in every flate there jnufl be fome fuperior ^^and others inferior j and it
Ledt. 10. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. St
IS hard to fix the degree of fubje^tion that may fall to the lot of particular perfons. Men maj "become flaves, or their perfons and labour be put wholly in the power of others by confent. They may alfo fometimes, in a conftituted flate, be made llaves by force, as a puniihnient for the commiffion of crimes. But it is certainly unlawful to make inroads upon others, unproved, and take away their liberty, by no better right than fuperior power.
It has fometimes been doubted, whether it is law- ful to take away the liberty of others for life, even on account of crimes committed. There can be no flrong reafon given againft this, except that which is fuppofed to operate in Great Britain a- gainft making malefactors Haves, that it would be unfavourable to rational liberty to fee any rank of men in chains. But, fetting this afide, it feems plain, that if men may forfeit their lives to fo- ciety, they may alio forfeit their liberty, which is a lefs precious bleifing. It feems alfo more agree- able, both to equity and public utility, to puniih fome fort of crimes with hard labour, than death. Imprifonment for life has been admitted and prac- tifed by all nations. Some have pleaded for ma- king flaves of the barbarous nations, that they are a<flually brought into a more eligible ftate, and. have more of the comforts of life, than they would have had in their own country. 1 his ar- gument may alleviate, but does not juflify, tlie praftice. It cannot be callifd a more eligible ftate, if lefs agreeable to ihbmfelves.
Upon the whole, there are not only many unlawful ways oi making flaves, but alfo fome that are laT/ful.
VoL.Vil. H
82 LECTURES ON Led. lO.
And the praftice feems to be countenanced in the law of Mofes, wliere rules are laid down for their treat- ment, and an ellimation of injuries done to them, different from that of free men. I do not think there lies anj neceflitj on thofe who found men in a ft ate of flavery, to make them free, to their own ruin. But it is very doubtful whether any original caufe of fervitude can be defended, but legal pu- nifhment for the commillion of crimes. Humanity in the manner of treating them is manifeftly a dic- tate of reafon and nature, and I think alfo of pri- vate and public utility, as much as of either.
The next ftep in opening the principles of the fecial ftate, is to conlider the foundation, eftablilli- ment, and extent of property. Some begin this by conlidering the property of man in general, in the inferior creatures. Has he any right to ufe the lower irrational animals for labour, or food, or both ?
It is needlefs to refine too much upon this fub- je£t. To ufe them for labour feems evidently law- ful, as they are inferior, with ftrength fitted for it, and ftrength which they could not employ for the improvement and cultivation of the earth without the dire£lion of man. They feem to be to man, fome how as the body to the mind. They help to produce food to themfelves, and fo increafe their number, and receive much more fenfual pleafure, fliaring in all refpefls with their mafters the fruit of their toil.
To ufe them for food is thus argued to be law- ful. If fuffered all to live, they would become too numerous, and could not be fuftained, fo that
Le<5t. 10. MORAL PHILOSOPHT. 85
death to many of them in a much worfe way muft be the certain confequence. Further, nature feems to dictate the ule of them for food in the plaineft manner, for they are food for one another in a re- gular gradation, the infecl to the birds and fifties, many of them to the beafts, and the fmaller to the greater, or the tamer to the more rapacious of every order.
If v/e take tradition or revelation for our guide, the matter is plain, that God made man lord of the works of his hands, and put under him all the other creatures. Only it appears that the grant of animal food was made no earlier than to Noah after the flood.
. Let us next conlider the eftablifliment of private property. Private property is every particular per- fon's having a confefled and exclufive right to a certain portion of the goods which ferve for the fup- port and conveniency of life.
In a very imperfe£l flate of fociety, community of goods may fubfift in a great degree ; and indeed its fubfifting is one of the fureft figns of an impcr- fed flate of fociety. Some attempts have been made in ci-v-ilized ftates to introduce it, but without any confiderable effeft, except in Sparta, the con- ftitution of which was very fingular. In fmall vo- luntary focieties, efpecially of the religious kind, it may be eftabliihed, and will continue fo long as the morals of the fociety are pure. But in civil fociety fully formed, efpecially if the ft ate is at all extenfive, or intended to be fo, private property is effentially neceiTary, and founded upon the reafon of things and public uiility. The reafons of it are, H2
§4 LECTURES ON Le6l. IC.
1. Without private property no laws Would be fufficient to compel univerfal induflrj. There ne- ver was fuch a purity of manners and zeal for the public, in the individuals of a great body, but thaf many would be idle and ilothful, and maintain themfelves upon the labour of others.
2. There is no reafon to exped, in the prefent Hate of human nature, that there would be a juft and equal diftribution to every one according to his necelTity, nor any room for difiindtion according to merit.
3. There would be no place for the exercife of fome of the nobleil affections of the human mind^ as charity, compallion, beneficence, &c.
4. Little or no incitement to the aiftive virtues^ labour, ingenuity, bravery, patience, &c.
Some have laid down fchemes for making pro- perty common, as Sir Thomas Moore, in his Utopia; but in general they are chimerical and impra6li- cable. There is no inftance in fa6l, where any Hate that made a figure in the focial life had their goods wholly in commoa. Sparta had the mofl of it, but it was a very fmall ftate, and limited in its views ; befides, there was fomething fo fingular in the whole conllitution of the Spartan government, that its fiibfifting fo long remains a phenomenon for politicians and reafoners yet to account for.
Suppofing private property to be effential, or at leail ufeful in the focial ftate, the next queftion is. How does this property take its rife, or by what ways is it acquired ?
The original ways of acquiring property may be reduced to thefe two, (i.) Prior occupation, (2.) Our own induilry.
Lt£t. 10. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 85
As to the firft of thefe, it may be analyfed thus : Of the things that lay in common for the ufe of man, I have a right to take what is convenient for me ; and after I have taken it, no body can have a better right, nor confequently any title, to take it from me.
But many queftions diificidt to be refolvcd arife -from the application of this principle. How far ■ does this right extend ? Muft I take only what is fufficient for the prefent moments ? or may I provide for future neceffities and enjoyments ? In vacant lands, muft I take only what I and my prefent fol- lowers can fafliciently occupy ? or may I touch a continent, and call it mine, though I iliall not be able to fill it in many ages ? I anfwer, common utility muft be the rule in all thefc cafe3 ; and any thing more particular muft be referved till wc come to the law of nations.
Some fay, that the water in large bays and rivers ought to be common to all, becaufe it is inexhau- ftible, and one's ufmg it cannot wafte or fpoil it for the ufe of others. But the fecurity of focieties will point out the mealure of prop'erty that muft be in all thofe things.
The extent or object of property contains three particulars.
I. A right to the fuUeft ufe. Whatever is a perfon's property,' he has a right to do with it. as he pleafes, with this fingle exception, if it may be called fo, that he may not ufe it to the injury of others. Full property has no other exception, un- lefs you call this an exception, that if any man would wantonly deftroy the fruits of the earth, or'
85 LECTURES ON Le£l.
10.
his habitation j in that cafe, though they were his own, people would hinder him, as fuppofing him to be mad, and deprive him not only of that li- berty, but of all others.
2. Property implies a right of exclusion. We jnay hinder others from any way intermeddling with what is our property. This feem-s efTential to the idea. Giving a full right to one, implies that otliers have none.
3. It implies a power to alienate : That is to fay, a right of alteration, commutation, donation during life, and difpofal at death. Thus property is faid to be perpetual.
There are certain things called by Civilians Res 7iullius ; fuch as, templep, public edifices, gates and walls of cities, &.c. Temples ufed to be faid to be given to God, and in the laws of civilized ftates attention is paid to this circumflance. But as to the property or ufe, the cafe of them, and of all the other things mentioned, is very clear. They are under the infpeftion of the magiftrate, or fuch per- fons as reprefent the community, and are by them kept i^or comnion ufe.
LECTURE XI.
IN the focial life, in general, we may confider, (i.) Domelllc, (2.) Chil fociety. The firfl of thefe we muft confider as implying and made up of Teveral relations, the chief of
Ltc\:, II. mqRal philosophy. ^7
which are, (i.) The relation of marriage, (2.) That of parents and children, (3.) That of mafters »nd fer^'ants.
In marriage we ought to obferve, that though ail creatures may be faid to be propagated in a way in a great degree fimilar, yet there is fomething pe- culiarly diflinguiihed, dignified, and folemn, in mar- riacre among men. This diilintlion is necelTary, and founded in reafon and nature.
Human creatures at their birth are in a flate weaker and more helplefs than any other animals. They alfo arrive much more flowly at maturity, and need by far mod affillance and cultivation. Therefore a particular union of the parents is ab- folutely neceiTary, and that upon fuch powerful principles as will fecure their common care. Mar- riage is a relation exprefsly founded upon this ne- ceffity, and muft be fo conducted as to afcertain the property of the offspring, and to promife the mofl afliduous, prudent, and extenfive care.
This is the foundation of m.arriage drawn from the public good. Bnt we ought alfo to obferve, that man is manifellly fuperior in dignity to the other animals ; and it was intended that all his en- joyments, and even his indulgence of inftintlive propenfities, fhould be of a more exalted and rational kind than theirs. Therefore the propenfity of the fexes to one another, is not only reined in by mo- delly, but is fo ordered as to require that reafon and friendlhip, and fome of the nobleil affections, fhouid have place. And it is certain that- they have, if not a more viojeat, at leaft a more lafting
88 LECTURES OJJ Le£l. 1 1,
and uniform influence, in the married ftate, than fenfual deli re.
It is further abferved by moral writers, that though beauty and perfonal attraftion may be con- lidered as the firft motives, yet thefe are always fuppofed to be indications of fomething excellent in the temper within. So that even love of beauty, in man, is an attachment to moral excellence. Let a perfon attend with ferioufnefs, and he will find, that the utmoft perfedlion of form in an idiot, or one thoroughly known to be of a very bad tem- per, is really no objeft of defire ; though in thofe who are little known, it is apt to prejudice the ig- norant and unwary to judge favourably of the perfon.
The particulars which reafon and nature point out, relating to the marriage -contract, are as foU low^ :
1. That it be between one man and one woman* Polygamy is condemned by nature ; for it is found, that the males bom are to the females as 13 to 12, or as fome fay as 20 to 19, the overplus being to fupply the greater wafte of the male part of the fpc- cies by war and dangerous occupations, hard la- bour, and travelling by land and fea.
2. The fundamental and elTential part of the contract is fidelity and chaftity. This muft imme- diately appear to be efiential to the purpofe of the union. Some writers fay that this is efpecially binding upon the woman, in order to afcertain the offspring ; but every body muft fee the abfurdity of any diftinftion, becaufe the contraft would nei- ther be e^ual, nor likely to be fteadily obferved, if
Lea. II. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 89
it were not mutual. Befides, as a late author has weirobfer\-ed, if chaftity be a female v-irtue, how can men be unchaile without infringing upon it ?
3. The contrail fhould be for life, otherwife it would be ihort, uncertain, and mutual love and in- duftrj greatly weakened.
4. If fuperiority and authority be given to' the man, it fhovdd be ufed with fo much gentlenefs and love, as to make it a ilate of as great equality as pof- fible. Hutchiiifon and fome other writers fay there fhould be no fuperiority, and that their property, being common, Ihould not be alienated by the one without the other. Others think that perfed equa- lity of power in two perfons is not confiftent with order, and the common intereft, and therefore give authority to the man ; and the laws of moil nations give the man the diipofal of property, w^th the re- fers ation of particular rights to the woman.
Some Heathen writers gave the man power of life and death over the woman 5 a thing evidently barbarous and unjufl.
5. Maniages are fometimes diffolved by di- vorces, which our law permits only on three ac- counts— adultery, wilful and obflinate defertion, and incapacity. The firft two of thefe are fomided on the New Teflament, and the lail on reafon, being not fo properly a diffolution of a marriage, as a de- claration that it was void from the beginning, and never took place.
Some writers of moral phiiofophy add as caufes of divorce, contrariety of temf)er, incurable difeafes, and fuch as would infedl the oflfspring. But none of ihem feem of fuificient moment. The firil would
90 LECTURES ON Led. II.
be an evident temptation to caufelefs and wanton reparations ; and all the three may be guarded a- gainft by previous caution.
Hutchinfon obferves, that in all nations, mar- rying in near degrees of confanguinity or affinity has been avoided and abhorred ; and he adds, that the natural and general abhorrence of it has been greater than reafon feems to dictate. Hence it has been conjectured to have been early tradition or re- velation ; and men have exercifed their invento • m finding out the true reafoai or ground of the pro- hibition.
One reafon affigned is, becaufe if nlarriage were lawful to near relations, their frequent intercourfe would be a ftrong temptation to uncleannefs.
Another, that if pennitted, it would frequently confound or invert the duties of relations, by fet- ting fome above others whom they formerly ufed to obey.
A third reafon, and perhaps the beft, is, that ab- ftaining from blood relations in this voluntary con- traft extends the focial ties, and produces a greater number of family-relations.
Whatever be the moral reafons, it feems to have a ftrong fanClion in nature ; for it is obferved, that marriage between near relations, efpecially if re- peated, greatly weakens the human race.
As to the extent of this prohibition, it has been various in different nations, but the moft prevailing has been to forbid all within three degrees. The degrees are reckoned by the . fteps of defcent be- tween the parties and the common parent. Parent and child is the firft ; child and child, the fecond ;
Left. II. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 9I
child and grand-child, the third ; and two grand- children, or firil coufins, the' fourth, when it be- comes lawful.
Relation of Parents and Children,
The firil thing to be obferved is, that this relation is diftinguiflied by the ftrongeft inflind of parental affe£lion. This feems neceflary, as the education of children is a duty requiring fo much time, care, and expence, which nothing but the mofl: rooted af- feftion would fubmit to.
The rights of the parent may be fummed up in .hefe tw^o : i. Authority, which requires fubjedlion in the children. 2. A right to a grateful return in due time from the children. The firft is a perfect right, as far as it extends, but muft be limited.
Some nations have given parents the power of life and death over their children ; and Hobbes in- fills, that children are the goods and abfolute pro- perty of their parents, and that they may alienate them and fell them, either for a time or for life. But both thefe feem ill founded, becaufe they are contrary to the end of this right, viz. inftruftion and protection. Parental right feems in moft cafes to be limited by the advantage of the chil- dren.
Children are no doubt to judge for themfelves in matters of religion, when they come to years ; though the parents are under the flrongell obliga- tion to inftruft them carefully to the bell of their judgement. Thofe who infill, that, to leave them their judgement free, they ought not to be taught
92 LECTURES ON Left. II.
any principles, ought to coniider that their fcheme is impraflicable and abfurd. If the parents do not inftruft them, they will imbibe prejudices, and con- traft habits, perhaps of the worfl kind, from o- thers.
Children in moft nations are confidered as having a right, exclulive of their parents, to property given them by others.
Many nations have given the parents a right to difpofe of their children in mamage ; but this feems to be carrying parental authority too far, if it be made abfolute, becaufe it puts in the power of the parent ta difpofe of what is moft effential to their happinefs through the whole of their future life. Yet it feems very contrary to reafon and nature, that children in early life fliould difpofe of themfelves in marriage without confulting their pa- rents.
Since we have denied the power of life and death to parents, it will be alked, What is the fane- tion of their authority ? I anfwer. Moderate cor- rection in early life, and, as the very higheft pu- nilhment, expullion from their family, or a for- feiture of the privileges which they defpife.
As to the right to a grateful return, it is an im- perfeft right, but of the ftrongeft kind ; fometimes the civil authority interpofes, , and obliges children to maintain their aged parents.
To the difgrace of human nature, it is often ob- ferved, that parental afFedion is much ftronger than filial duty. We muft indeed acknowledge the wifdom of Providence in making the inftinftive im- pure ftronger in parents towards their children;
Lccl:. II. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 93
than in children towards their parents ; becaufe the firfl is more necelTarj than the other to the public good ; jet when we conlider both as improved into a virtuous difpofition, bj reafon and a fenfe of duty, there feems to be every whit as much bafe- nefs in filial insratitude, as in want of natural af- feclion.
Relation of Master and Servant,
This relation is firft generated by the differ- ence which God hath permitted to take place be- tween man and man. Some are fuperior to others in mental powers and intelledual improvement ; fome by the great increafe of their property, through their own or their predeceiTors induftry ; and lome make it their choice, finding they cannot li>^ otherwife better, to let out their labour to others for hire.
Let us fhortly confider, (i.) How far this fubjec- tion extends. (2.) The duties on each fide.
As to the firft, it feems to be only that the matter has a right to the labours and ingenuity of the fer- vant for a limited time, or at mofl for life. He gan have no right either to take away life, or to make it iniupportable by excellive labour. The fervant therefore retains all other natural rights.
The pradice of ancient nations, of making their prif oners of war flaves, was altogether imjuft and barbarous ; for though we could fuppofe that thofe who were the caufes of an mijuil war deferred to be made Haves ; yet tliis could not be the cafe of all wha fought on their fide ; befides, the doing fo
Vol. VII. I
94 LECTURES ON Jjcdi, II.
in one inftance would authorlfe the doing it in any other ; and thofe who fought in defence of his country, when unjuftly invaded, might be taken as well as others. The pra6lice was alfo impolitic, as flaves never are fo good or faithful fervants, as thofe who become fo for a limited time by con- fent.
LECTURE XII,
OF CIVIL SOCIETY.
CIVIL Society is diftinguifhed from domeftic, in the union of a number of families in one ftate, for their mutual benefit.
We have before affirmed, that fociety always fuppofes an exprefled or implied contract or agree- ment. Let us now fee what this agreement necef- farily implies.
(i.) The confent of every individual to live in, and be a member of that fociety. (2.) A confent to fome particular plan of government. (3.) A mutual agreement between the fubjefts and rulers ; of fubjeftion on the one hand, of proteftion on the other. Thefe are all implied in the union of every fociety, and they complete the whole.
Any objeftions that may be raifed againfl this are eafily folved.. Ex. gr. Though every indivi- dual has not given an adual confent, yet his deter- .mination to live with any fociety implies it. Again, if it be aiked, how children come to be members of
Lecl. 12. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 95
a focietv ? ii is anfwered, they receive the benefits and partake of the rights of the focietj during the whole time of their education ; and as they conae to the ufe of reafon, they both claim the privilege and acquiefce in the duty of citizens. And if they find any thing infupportable in their condition, they may alter it at their pleafure.
Have^ then, all fubjefts a? right, when they fee fit, to remove from the fociety in which they are ? I anfvver, that in all ordinary cafes they ought to have, at leaft in time of peace. Perhaps it may be af- firmed with juftice, that they who have enjoyed the privileges of any fociety in time of peace, if war or danger to the public fiiould arife, they may be hindered from emigrating at that time, and com- pelled to contribute their lliare in what is neceflary TO the common defence.
Whatever is the form of government in any fociety, the members may be divided into two claiTes, the ruUrs and the ruled, the magiitrates and fubjects.
The rights of rulers may be divided into eflential and accidental : the cilential, fuch as in general mull be veiled in rulers of every fociety ; the accidental, fuch as maybe given to the rulers in fome focieties, but not in others.
The eflential rights of rulers, are what require mod to be enumerated ; and thefe again by fome good writers ' are divided into greater and lefTer ef- ientials.
Of the firft kind are, (l.) Legiflation. (2.) Taxation for the public expence. (3.) Jurifdiction, or the adminiltration of juftice. (4.) Reprefen- 1 2
Cf6 LECTURES ON Left. 12.
tation, or appearing and a£ling in name of the whole, in all tranfaftions, with adjacent indepen- dent flates, chiefly for the purpofes of making wap or peace.
The lefs elTential rights of rulers are many, and they are called lefs effential, becaufe they may be more varied than the others ; fuch as, coining of mone}', pofTefling or managing public edifices, con- ferring honours on officers. Sec.
The rights of fubjects in a focial flate cannot be enumerated, but they may be all fummed up in protectio?i ; that is to fay, thofe who have furrendered part of their natural rights, expedl the flrength of the public arm to defend and improve what re- mains.
It has been often faid, that government is carried on by rewards and punifliments ; but it ought to be obfer^ved, that the only reward that a ftate can be fuppoftd to beflow upon good fubjefts in general, is prote6tion and defence. Some few who have diftinguifhed themfelves in the public fervice, may be diftinguifhed by particular rewards ; but to re- ward the v/hole is impoffible, becaufe the reward mull be levied from thofe very perfons to whom it is to be given.
After what has been faid on the foundation of fociety, viz. confent, perhaps it may be neceffary to mention two exceptions.
I. It is faid by fome, with apparent reafon, that a tew perfons, if accidentally armed with powder, may conftrain a large ignorant rabble to fubmit to laws which will be for their good. This I would admit in fome cafes, when there is an evident mad-
Left. 12. MORAL rHiLosoriiY. 97
nefs and diforder in the multitude, and when there is a moral certainty tliat they will afterwards be pleafed with the violence done them. But in ge- neral it is but a bad maxim, that we may force people for their good. All lovers of power will be difpofed to think, that even a violent ufe of it is for the public good.
2. Though people have a£l:ually confented to iiny form of government, if they have been effen- tially deceived in the nature and operation of the laws, if they are found to be pernicious and de- ilruftive of the ends of the union, they may cer- tainly break up the fociety, recal the obligation, and refettle the whole upon a better footing.
Of the different Forms of Government.
As foon as men began to confider and compare forms of government, they divided them into three general and limple kinds, (i.) Monarchy, (2.) Ariftocracy, (3.) Democracy. Thefe are called fmiple, becaufe they are clearly difliing-uifliable from each other in their nature and effeds. The ancients generally divided the forms of govern- ment in this manner, becaufe moft of their go- vernments were of one or other of thefe kinds, with, very little mixture.
Monarchy is when the fupreme power is veiled in a fmgle perfon. Mr Hutchinfon fays. Monar- chy may be either abfolute or limited ; but this is an inaccuracy, for limited monarchy is one of the mixed kinds of government.
But moaarchr may be either temporary or for
13
98 LECTURES ON Le6l. 12.
]if?. The Roman dictators were abfolute for a time, and fo long as they continued, the government was purel monarchical, all other powers being dormant.
Monarchy may alfo be either hereditary or elec- tive.
Ariftocracy is^ that form of government in which the fiipreme power is lodged with a fmall number of nobles. This is capable of the fame variations as monarchy ; and it may be either tem- porary or perpetual,- hereditary or elective, witli this difference, that a temporary or elective ari- llocracy always puts fome power in the hands of the people. The moil complete arifhocracy is when the ruling party have the power of co-opta- tiori within themfelves, and can fill up as they pleafe the vacancies made by deaths or religna- tion.
Democracy is when the fupreme power is left in the multitude. But as in large governments the people in a colle£tive body cannot well meet to- gether, nor could they tranfacl bufinefs with any convenience if they did, they may meet by re- prcfentatives, chofen either by the whole or by par- ticular diftrifts.
From thofe fimple forms are generated many complex form.s ; two of them may be compounded together, either in equal or in different proportions, or all thefe may be united, as in the Britilli govern- ment.
After pointing out the fimple forms of govern- ment, it will be proper to make fome general ob- fers^ations upon government, and apply them to the
Leci. 12. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 99
various forms, to (hew whether any of tliem is pre- ferable to the other, and the advantages and defedls of each in particular.
I. There are four things that feem to be requi- fite in- a fyflem of government, and every form is good in proportion as it poffefles or attains them. (1.5 Wifdom to plan proper meafares for the pub- lic good. (2.) Fidelity to have nothing but the public intereft in view. (3.) Secrecy, expedition, and difpatch in carrying meafures into execution. And, (4.) Unity and concord, or that one branch of the government may not impede, or be a hindrance to another.
Monarchy has plainly the advantage in unity, fecrecy, and expedition. Many cannot fo eaiily nor fo fpeedily agree upon proper meafures, nor can they expe6l to keep their deligns fecret ; there- fore, fayfome, if a man could be found wife enough, and juft enough for the charge, monarchy would be the bell form of government. Accordingly we find, that in the command of a fliip, fleet, or army, one perfori is commonly intruded with fupreme power ; but this does not apply to Hates, for many reafons. No man can be found who has either ikill fufficient, or, if he had, could give attention to the whole departments of a great empire. Befides, in hereditary monarchies there is no fecurity at all for either wifdom orgoodnefs; and an elective mo- narchy, though it may feem to promife ability^ has been always found in experience worfe than the other, becaufe there is no reafon to expedl that an elected monarch will have the public good at
ICO LECTURES ON Le(^. 12.
heart ; lie will probably mind only private or fa- mily intereft.
Ariftocracy has the advantage of all the others for wisdom in deliberations ; that is to fay, a number of perfons of the firft rank mull be fuppofed by their confultations to be able to difcover the public intereft. But it has very little or no profpe£l of fidelity or union. The moft ambitious projeds, and the moll violent and in\;lacable factions, often prevail in fuch Hates.
Democracy has the advantage of both the otliers for fidelity ; the multitude colle<5lively always are true in intention to the intereft of the public, becaufe it is their own. They are the public. But at the fame time, it has very little advantage for wifdom or union, and none at all for fecrecy and expedition. Belides, the multitude are exceeding apt to be de- ceived by demagogues and ambitious perfons. They are very apt to truft a man who ferves them well, with fuch power as that he is able to make them ferve him.
If the true notion of liberty is the prevalence of law and order, and thefecurity of individuals, none of the limple forms are favourable to it.
Monarchy, every one knows, is but another name Sox tyranriy, w^here the arbitrary will of one capri- cious man difpofes of the lives and properties of all ranks.
Ariftocracy always makes vaftals of the inferior ranks, who have r.o hand in governi^ient, and the great commonly rule with greater feverit}^ than ab- folute monarchs. A monarch is at fuch a diftance from moft of his fubjeds, that he does them little
Ledl. 12. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. lOI
injury ; but the lord of a petty feignory is a rigo- rous tafk-mafter to hfs unhappy dependents. The jealoufy with wliich the members of an ariftocrati- cal ftate defend their own privileges, is no fecurity at all for humanity and eafy treatment to their infe- riors. Example — the Spartans ; their treatment of the Helots — and the barons in all the feudal govern- ments, in their treatment of their vaflals.
Pure democracy cannot fubfift long, nor be car- ried far into the departments of ftate — it is very fubjed to caprice and the madnefs of popular rage. They are alfo very apt to chufe a favourite, and veft him with fuch power as overthrows their ow^ii liberty, — examples, Athens and Rome.
Hence it appears, that every good form of govern- ment muft be complex, fo that the one principle may check the other. It is of confequence to have as much virtue among the particular members of a community as poffible ; but it is folly to expeA that a ftate ftiould be upheld by integrity in all who have a ftiare in managing it. They muft be fo balanced, that when every one draws to his own intereft or inclination, there may be an over-poife upon the whole.
II. The fecond obfer\'ation upon the forms of government is, that where there is a balance of dif- ferent bodies, as in all mixed forms, there muft bo always fome tiexus imperii, fomething to make one of them neceOary to the other. If this is not the cafe, they will not only draw different ways, but will often feparate altogether from each other. In order to produce this nexusy fome of the great eften- lial rights of rulers muft be divided, and diftribut^d
lOi LECTURES ON Left. 12.
among the different branches of the legiilature
Example in the Britiih government — the King has the power of making war and peace, but the Par- liament have the le\^ing and dillribution of money, which is a fufficient reftraint.
III. The third obfervation is, that the ruling part of any ftate muft always have confiderable pro- perty, chiefly of lands. The reafon is, property has fuch an invariable influence, that w^hoever poflfeffes property muft have power. Property in a'ftate is alfo fome fecurity for fidelity, becaufe intereft thea is concerned in the public welfare.
For this reafon, did men in every ftate live en- tirely by agriculture, an agrarian law would be ne- celTary to liberty, becaufe if a vdk proportion of property came into a few hands, they would foon take all power to themfelves. But trade and com- merce fuperfede the neceflity of this, becaufe the great and fudden fortunes accumulated by trade caufe a rotation of property.
IV. In a well-formed flate, the fubjccts fiiould not be too numerous, nor too few. If very nu- merous, the principles of government cannot exert their force over the whole. The Roman empire fell by its own weight. If the fubjefts are toofew^ they are not fufficient to fupprefs internal infurrec- tions, or repel attacks from without.
V. It is frequently obferved, that in every go- vernment there is a fupreme irrefiflible power lod- ged fomewhere, in king, fenate, or people. To this power is the final appeal in all quefiions. Be- yond this we cannot go. How far does this autho- rity extend ? We anfwer, As far as authority in *
heS:. 12. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. I03
fecial ilate can extend, it is not accountable to any other tribunal ; and it is fuppofed in the focial com- pacl, that we have agreed to fubmit to its deciiion. There is, however, an exception, if the fuprenie power, wherever lodged, come to be exercifed in a manifeflly tyrannical manner, the fubjecls may cer- tainly, if in their power, refift and overthrow it. But this is only when it becomes manifeftly more advantageous to unfettle the government altogether, than to fubmit to tyranny. This refiflance to the fupreme power, hov/ever, is fubverting the fociety altogether, and is not to be attempted till the go- vernment is fo corrupt, as that anarchy and the un- certainty of a new fettlement is preferable to the continuance as it is.
This doclrine of reiiliance even to the fupreme power is elTentiaily conned:ed with what has been faid on the focial contract, and the confent necef- fary to political union. If it be alked. Who mull judge v/hen the government may be refilled ? I an- fwer, The fubjects in general, every one for himielf- This may feem to be making them both judge and party, but there is no remedy. It would be deny- ing the ^privilege altogether, to make the oppreffivc ruler the judge.
It is eafy to fee, that the meaning of this is not, that any little miilake of the rulers of any fociety will juftify refiilance. We mult obey and fubmit to them always, till tlie corruption becomes intole- rable ; for to fay that we might refut legal authori- ty every time we judged it to be wrong, would be inconliilent w^ith a ftate of fociety, and to the very iirft idea of fubie6tion.
104 LECTURES ON Le£l. 12.
The once famous controverfy on pafTive obe- dience and non-refiftance, feems now, in our coun- try, to be pretty much over; what the advocates for fubmiffion ufed to fay was, that to teach the lawfulnefs of refifting a government in any inftance, and to make the rebel the judge, is fubverfive of all order, and muft fubjecl a flate to perpetual fedi- tion ; to which I anfwer, To refufe this inherent right in every man, is to eftablifh injuftlce and ty- ranny, and leave every good fubje<Sl: without he]p, as a tame prey to the ambition and rapacity of others. No doubt men may abufe the privilege, yet this does not make it void. Befides, it is not till a whole people rife, that refillance has any ef- fect ; and it is not eafy to fuppofe, that a whole people would rife againft their governors, unlefs when they have really received very great provocation. Whereas, on the other hand, nothing is more na- tural than for rulers to grafp at power, and their ii- tuation enables them to do it fuccefsfully by flow and infenfible encroachments. In experience, there are many "infliances of rulers becoming ty- rants, but comparatively very few of caufelefs and premature rebellions. There are occafional and partial infurre6lions in every government. Thefe are eafily raifed by interelled perfons, but the great majority continues to fupport order.
VI. Dominion, it is plain from all that has been faid, can be acquired juftly only one way, viz. by confent. There are two other ways commonly mentioned, both of which are defedlive, inheri- tance and conqueft. Hereditary power, which ori- ginally rofe from confent; and is fuppofed to be
Le£l. 12. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. IC5
founded upon the continuance of confent, (as tkat of the hereditary power in a limited monarchy), is as lawful as any ; but when they pretend fuch a right from nature is independent of the people, it is aWurd.
That which is called the right of conqueil ought to be exploded altogether. We Ihall fee by and by what is the- ri;:ht of a conqueror in a jull war. It was his right before, and he obtains pofleffion of it by conquefl. But to found any claim merely on conqueft, is not a right, but robbery.
Upon the whole, I will conclude with a few re- marks upon the fpirit and tendency of different forms of government.
1. Monarchical government has a tendency to poUtenefs and elegance of manners, and generally to luxury. The fubmiflion and obfequioufnefs praftifed at the court of a monarch, diffufes itfelf thi'ough the whole flate.
2. Ariftocracy narrows the mind exceedingly^ and mdeed cannot long fublill in a large flate. A fmall ariftocracy, however, may fublifl as a form of government, as long as any other method, or longer.
3. Democracy tends to plainnefs and freedom of fpeech, and fometimes to a favage and indecent fe- rocity. Democracy is the nurfe of eloquence, be- caufe, when the multitude have the power, perfua- fion is the only way to govern them.
Let us now afk this fhort queftion, What is the t^alue and advantage of civil liberty ?
Is it neceffary to virtue ? This cannot be fuppou VoL.VII. K
IC6 LECTURES ON Le£l.i«."
fed. A virtuous mind and virtuous conduft is pof- fible, arid perhaps equallj poflible, in every form of government.
Is it neceflary to perfonal private happinefs ? It may feem fo. We fee the fubjefts of arbitrary governments, however, not only happy, but very often they have a greater attachment to their form of government than thofe of free flates have to Iheirs. And if contentment be neceflary to happi- oefs, there is commonly more impatience and dif- content in a free Hate than in any other. The ty- ranny even of an abfolute monarch does not afFe£l with perfonal injury any of his fabjedts but a few, and chiefly thofe who make it their choice to be ilear him. Perhaps in free governments, the law and the mob do more mifchief to private property, than is done in any abfolute monarchy.
What, then, is the advantage of civil liberty ? I fuppofe it chiefly confifl:3 in its tendency to put in motion all the human powers. Therefore it pro- motes indufliry, and in this refpeft happinefs, pro- duces every latent quality, and improves the hu- man mind. Liberty is the nurfe of riches, litera- ture, and heroifm.
Le^. 13. MOJIAL PHILOSOPHY. I07
LECTURE XIIL
OF THE LAW OF NATURE AND NATIONS.
THE next thing in order is, to treat of what is called the law of nature and nations. It has been before obferved, that feparate and independent flates are, with regard to one another, in a ilate of natural liberty, or as man to man before the com- mencement of civil fociety. On this feveral que- flions arife^ i. Is there any fuch law ? 2. What is the law ? 3. What is its fanclion, or how is it to be enforced ?
That there is fuch a law, is plain from the rea- fons that fliews the obligation which one man lies under to another. If there are natural rights of men, there are natural rights of nations. Bcxiies politic in this view, do not differ in the leaft from individuals. Therefore, as before, reafon, con- fcience, and common utility, ihow that there is a law of nature and nations.
The queilion. What it is ? mull be confidered in the fame manner. I am not able to recollecl any perfeft or imperfect right that can belong to one man, as diilinguifhed from another, but what be- longs to nations, fave that there is ufually lefs oc- cafion for the imperfeiTt rights. If we read over the perfect rights, in a llate of natural liberty, we fhall fee they all apply to nations.
It will alfo appear, that the imperfect rights ap- ply i but the occafions of exerting tl^^m are much - Ki
I08 LECTURES ON ^ Left. 13.
more rare. For example, it is more rare to fee a nation in a flate of general indigence, fo as to re- quire a fupplj. Yet this fometimes happens. It did fo in the cafe of Portugal, at the time of the great earthquake at Lifbon ; and the other nations of Europe lent them alTiilaace. It is alfo from tliis principle that Ihips of different nations, meeting at fea, will do afts of humanity to one another. Some- times alfo there are national favours that deferve national gratitude. But this is feldom merited, and, I believe, ftill feldomer paid.
As to the fan£lion of the law of nature and na- tions, it is no other than a general fenfe of duty, and fuch a fenfe of common utility, as makes men fear, that if they notorioufly break t^efe laws, re- proach and infamy among all nations will be the efFed, and probably refentment and indignation by common confent.
The violation of the natural rights of mankind being a tranfgreflion of the law of nature, and be- tween nations as in a ftate of natural liberty, there being no method of redrefs but force, the law of nature and nations has as its chief or only object jhe manner of making zvar and peace.
In war it is proper to confider diflin^tly, I . The caufes for which a juft war may be carried on. 2. The time of commencing. 3. The duration. 4. The means by which it may be carried on.
As to the fnft, the caufes of commencing war arc, according to the principles above laid down, the violation of any perfect right — as taking away the property of the other ftate, or the lives of its fub- jefts, or reftralning them in their induftry, or hin-
Le£l. 13. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. IC9
dering tbem in the ufe of things common, &:c. There is only one perlecl right, the violation pf wiiich does not feem to be a caufe of war ; I mean that hj which we have a right to charadcr. Na- tional calumny is fcarcely a caufe of wjir, becaufe it cannot be frequent or of great eiFeft. The violation of imperfecl rights cannot ufually be a caufe of war between nations ; yet a cafe may be fuppofed, in which even thefe would be a juft caufe of war. Suppofe a fhip of any nation Ihould go into a port of another, in the greateft diftrefs, and not only the people in general, but the governing part of the fo- ciety fhould deny them all affillance : — This would be an acl: of fuch notorious inhumanity, and of fuch evil example, that it may juftify national re- fentment ; and yet even here, I think there ihould firfl be a demand of juftice upon the offending perfons, before vengeance fhould be taken upon the ilate.
Thefeare the juft and legitimate caufes of making war. Some add to them, that when a nation is feen to put itfclf in fuch a lituation as to defence, or as to the means of annoying others, that it feems to threaten hoflilities, then we are not obliged to wait till it hath committed adual injury, but may put it in a ftate of incapacity ; but there is no other truth in this, but v/hat is founded upon the other ; for the piefervation of our property implies, that if others take fuch meafures as are not to be accounted for, but upon the fuppofition of an intention of wronging me, it is often eafier and fafer to prevent and difarm the robber, than to fuffer him to com- K3
*'-^ LECTURES ov Le6:. 13.
mit the violence, and then to fliip him and rob him of his prey.
Oiie thing more is to be added, that every nation has a rii;ht to join which it pleafes of two contend- ing parties. This is eafily refolved into the gene- ral principles ; for the injured party may be fup- pofed to go to war in defence of fome perfect right ; and the caufe being juft, the imperfeft right of humanity, as well as general and common utili- ty, calls for alTiilance to the oppreiled. So that, if we have a right to aflbciate with any nation, we may be entitled to protefl their property and rights.
2. As to the time of commencing war, itfeems to be no way. contrary to natural law, to fay it is at any time the injured party pleafes, after having received an injury -, but accident or utilit}% or a de- ilre in each party to manifell the equity of their caufe, has introduced imiverfally the cuilom of de- claring war. This begun very early, and, though not of abfolute right, having been generally intro- duced, muft be continued, though there is often more of form than of fub fiance in it ; for nations do often begin both attack and defence before de- claration, as well as make all the neeeffary prepa- rations for ftrikino: the moft effeftual blow. Tire meaning of a declaration of war feems to be, to call upon the injured party to prevent it by repara- tion ; likewife, to manifeft to all other ftates tli€ juftice of the caufe.
3. The duration of a war fhould be, according to natural equity, till the injury be completely re- drcflcd, and reafonable fecurity given againll fu^
Le<5l. IJ. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. Ill
ture attacks ; therefore the praftice, too common, of contmui ng a v.^ar for the acquifitlon of empire, is to be condemned. Becaufe one ftate has done fome injury to another, it feems quite unreafonable that thej ihould not only repair the injurr", but fubvert and ruin the offending ftate altogether ; this would be unreafonable between man and man, if one had wronged another, not only to repair the v,Tong, but to rake all the reft that he had, and re- duce his family to beggar}-. It is ev^h more un- reafonable in ftates, becaufe the offenders in ftates are not to be fuppofed to be the whole people, but only the rulers, or perhaps only fome indivi- duals.
Perhaps it may be alkcd, W^at is r^asGnable fe- cuiity againft future injury ? I^ anfwer. Between equal independent natio^^s, foiemn treaties cught t© be confidercd as fecurity ; but, if faitb has beea often broken, perhaps fomething more may be re- quired. The mutual complaints of natio-is againft each other for breach of faith, makes conquerors often demand fuch a degree of fecurity, as puts the conquered altogether in their power.
4. As to the legitimate means of carrying oa the war, in general, it may be faid in one word, by force or open \"ioleiice. It is admitted on all hand% that this force may be ufed againft the perfon and goods, not only of the rulers, but of every member of the hoftUe ftate. This may feem hard, that in- noceni P-ibje£ls of "the ftate ftiould fuller for the fol- ly and indifcreiion of the rulers, or of other mem- bers of the fame ftate ; but it is ur.avoidable. The whok individuals that c^muofe a ftate are conftvi.
112 LECTURES ON J-ed. I3,
dered but as one body ; it would be impofTible for an enemy to diftinguifh the guilty from the inno- cent ; and when men fubmit to a government, they riik their own polTeffions on the fame bottom with the whole, in return for the benefits of fociety.
Open violence may be fald to liave no bounds, xind therefore eyery method that can be invented, ;md the moft deadly weapons of annoyance may feem to be permitted. But, from v/hat has been faiJ above, and upon the principles of general e- qulty, all a6ls of cruelty and inhumanity are to be blamed, and all feverliy that Has not an immediate elfecl in weakening the national flrength of the enemy, is certainly inhumanity ; fuch as, killing prifoners whom you can keep fafely,— killing w^o- men and children, — burning and dellroying every thhio- that could be of ufe -in life.
o
The ufe of poifoned weapons has been alfo ge- nerally condemned, and the poifoning of fprings or provifions.
To the honour of modem times, and very pror bably, I think, to the honour of Chriilianity, there is much more humanity in the way of car- rying on war than formerly.
To aim' particularly at the life of. a leader, or perfon of chief note, feems to have in it nothing unjull or improper, becaufe the more important the life, it does more toward the finifliing of the war ; but what many feem to admit, the bribing of his own people to ailafTmate him privately, I cannot think honourable or fair.
A queflion is often moved in morals. How far it is lawful to deceive an enemy, efpecially if we
Left. 13. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 113
hold the general and univerfal obligation of truth. To this it maj be anfwered, in the firft place, that- vre maj certainly with gi'eat juftice conceal our own deligns from an enemy, as. indeed, we may generally from friends, by lilence, and guarding againft every circumftance that may betray them". Neither do I think there is any thing at all blame- worthy in a general of an army ufing ambiguous iigns, as feigaed marches of a part or the whole, putting up lights or fuch things, becaufe, after a declaration of war, he does not pretend to give in- formation to his enemy of his motions ; nay, it is expefted on both fides, that they will do the bell they can to over-reach one another in point of pru- dence. Yet I can fcarce think it right to emploj^ people to go to the enemy, and, profelling to be fincere, tell direft falfehoods, and deceive them bjr that falfe intelligence.
It is the cuftom of all to fend fpieS to difcover the enemy's defigns, and alfo to bribe fome of the enemies themfelves, to difcover the deligns of their leadeTs ; the lail of which is, I think, at leaft of a doubtful nature, or rather unjufi:. Though fending fpies is by -all approved, yet (what may feem a little unaccountable) fuch fpies are always punifh- ed with infhant death by the oppofite party, when detefted. The reafon probably is, that, pretend- ing frienddiip, they have a right to confider them as traitors ; or, as they are in an aft of hoflihty, they kill their, as they would do an enemy in battle, when in their power.
. Thefe circumftanc;es apply to all v/ar in general ; but there is a diftinftion of wars by civilians into
114 LECTURES ON Le<n:. I3.
two kinds, solemn and civiL The firft includes all wars between ilates formerly independent ; the other, internal infurredions of a part of one go- vernment againft another.
There has generally been a great difference in the behaviour of the oppofite parties in thefe diffe- rent wars. In folemn wars there is a prefumption of integrity in the plurality on both fides ; each be- lieves his own caufe to be jull. On this account they are to be treated with the more humanity. In civil wars, the infurgents are conlid^ed as making unjull refiftance to the ruling part of the fociety, and therefore guilty of the greateft crimes againft fociety. Therefore they are often treated with great rigour, and, when taken in battle, referved to folemn trial and public execution. There i$ ■(ome reafon for this in many cafes, when it is in^- deed an unreafonable or unprovoked infurredlion of diforderly citizens ; but there are many cafes in which the pretences on both fides are fo plaufible, that the war fhould be in all refpeds confidered as folemn.
It fhould be obferved, notwithltanding the hollile difpofition, there are occalions, both in a treaty for peace and during the continuance of the war, when enemies are under the flrongeft obligations to fince- jfity in their behaviour to each other ; when pro- pofals are made for accommodating the differences, for a fufpenfion of arms, for an exchange of prifon- ers, or any thing fimilar.
It is worth while to inquire, whether the greateft honour and candour in war, with a fliicl adherence
Led. 13. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. II5-
to all the laws above laid down, would give any party a great advantage who fhould take the liber- ty of tranlgrelTing them ; as for example, who Ihould life poifoned weapons, fhould fend people to tell falfe (lories, fhould bribe fubjefts to affaflinate
a hoftile prince I anfwer, that they would have
no advantage at all, but probably the contrary. There is fomething powerful in magnanimity, which fubdues the hearts of enemies ; nay, foraetimes ter- rifies them, and particularly infpires a general's army with invincible courage. Befides thefe, fini- iler arts are not fo terrible as may be imagined ; — telling falfe news is as eafilj difcovered as any trick whatfoever.
Prudence and integrity have no need of any af- fiflance from fraud ; a£ls even of generolity, from enemy to enemy, are often as ufeful as any acts of hoftility. There was fomething very handfome in the Roman general, who refufed to avail himfelf of- the treachery of a fchool-mafter, as well as whim- fical in the way in which he puiiiihed the traitor.
Of Making Peace,
As already hinted, all prop of als tending to^ thi* purpofe ought to be made with the utmoft fincerity. Of all deceits in war, the mod infamous is that of' making a treaty, or feeking a confidence, only to take advantage of the fecurity of one party, to de- il:roy him, — by affailination, or by breaking a truce- to fight with advantage.
The terms of peace ought to be agreeable to the
1.1^ LECTURES ON Left. 1 3.
end of making war. Damages ftiould be repaired, and fecurity given againft future injury.
We have often faid, that nation to nation is as man to man in a flate of natural liberty ; therefore treaties of peace between nations fliould in general proceed upon the fame principles as private con- txads between man and man. There is, however, an exception, that contracts between individuals are (at leaft by law) always void when the) are the effe£t of conflraint upon one fide. Now, this muft not hold in treaties between nations, becaufe it would always furniili a pretext for breaking them. On the fide of the conquered, a treaty is always in a great degree the efFed of neceffity. . It is generally, however, laid down in moft au- thors as a principle, that the terms impofed and fub- mitted to may be fome times fo rigorous and oppref- live, as to juftify the injured party in revolting when they are able. This feems to me to be very lax in point of morals. It would be better, I think, to fay, that the people who made the treaty ihould not recede from it. Their pofterity, however, at fome diftaace, cannot be fuppofed bound to unjuft fervitude by the deeds of their fathers.
Let us conclude this fubjed by a few remarks on the fituation of neutral ftates.
1. Every ftate has a right, when others are con- tending, to remain neuter, and ailift neither party.
2. They have a right to all their former privi- leges with both the contending parties, may carry on their traiHc with both, and may fhew all the ufual marks of friendihip to both ; only, it has beea generally agreed upon, that they r.re not to trade
Left. 13. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. II7
with any of them in certain articles fuppofed to be of confequence in carrying on war, particularly proviiions and arms.
3. Neutral powers fliould keep their harbours alike open to both for common refrefhment, and as an afylum to lly to. And it is held necefTary, that the contending powers mull not carry on their quarrel, nor exercife any hoftilities, within the ter- ritories of a neutral Hate.
4. Neutral ftates may purchafe movetible goods from any of the contending parties, which have been taken from the other. But not fo with re- fpeft to lands or forts ; becaufe, if the other party are able, they will re-take their poflefTions.
5. Deeds of a violent poflefTor are held to ba valid ; that is to fay, if a conqueror prevails for a time, and levies tribute from any country, and afterwards the rightful poflefTor prevails, it would be unjuft to demand the tribute again, becaufe the true owner w^as not able to give^ protection to tho fubjefts, and what was paid was loft through his weaknefs. The fame thing may be faid of a de- pendent ftate y if it owes any money and fervice to a fupreme ftate, and an enemy exaft it by force, the proper creditor cannot juftly demand it again.
On the whole, thofe things that have been gene- rally received as the law of nature and nations, are founded on the principles of equity, and, when well obferved, do greatly promote general utiiity.
VoL. VII. L
«i8 LECTURES 0}f Lea. 14,
LECTURE XIV.
JURISPRUDENCE.
JURISPRUDENCE is the method of enaaiiig and adminiftering civil laws in any conllitution.
We cannot propofe to go through a fjftem of ci- vil laws ; and therefore what I have in view, is to make fome preliminary remarks, and then to point out the object of civil laws, and the manner of their operation.
I. The firfl preliminary remark is, that a con- flitution is excellent, when the fpirit of the civil laws is fuch, as to have a tendency to prevent of- fences, and make men good, as much as to puniih them when they do evil.
This is necelTaiy in fome meafm*c ; for, when ihe general difpoiition of a people is againft the laws, they cannot long fubfift, even by a flri6l and rigorous execution on the part of the rulers. There is, however, more of this in fome conilita- tions than in others. Solon and Xenophon, as well as Lycurgus, feem to have formed their plan very much with this view, to dire6l the manners of the people in the firft place, which will always make the obfervance of particular laws eafy.
But how fhall the magiilrate manage this matter ? or what can be done by law, to make the people of any ftatc virtuous ? If, as we have feen above^ virtue and piety are infeparably connefted, then to promote true religion is the bed and mofl effcdual
Le£t. 14. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. II9
way of making a virtuous and regular people. Love to God, and love to man, is the fubftance of religion ; when thefe .prevail, civil laws will have little to do.
But this leads to a very important difquifitioa, how far the mao^iftrate ouo-ht to interfere in matters of religion. Religious fentiments are very va- rious, and we have given it as one of the perfe£l riglits in natural liberty, and that which ought not to be alienated even in fociety, that every one fliould judge for himfelf in matters of religion.
What the magiflrate may do on this fubje£l:, feems to be confined to the three following particu- lars.
(1.) The iftagiftrate (or niling part of aiiy fo- ciety) ought to encourage piety by his own ex- ample, and by endeavouring to make it an obje6t of public efteem. Whenevjr the general opinion is in favour of any thing, it will have many fol- lowers. Magiftrates may promote and encourage men of piety and virtue, and they may difcounte- nance thofe whom it w^ould be improper to pu- niih.
(2.) The magiftrate ought to defend the rights of confcience, and tolerate all in their religious fentiments, that are not injurious to their neio-h- hours. In the ancient heathen ftates, there was lefs occafion for this, becaufe, in the fyftem of po- "^ytheifm, the different gods and rites were not fup- pofed to be oppofite, but co-ordinate and confiftent ; but when there is believed to be but one God, the fentiments about his nature and worlhip will often L2
120 i.ECTURES ON Led. I4*
be confidered as effentially repugnant one to ano- ther.
The pretence of infidels, that perfecution only belongs to the Chriftian religion, is abfurd ; for the Chriftian was the firft religion that was perfe- ©uted ; and it was the neceffary confequence of fay- ing, that the gods of the heathens were no gods.
At prefent, as things are fituated, one of the mod important duties of the magiftracy is, to proted the rights of confcience.
It is commonly faid, however, that in cafe any feft holds tenets fubverfive of fociety, and incon- fiftent with the rights of others, that they ought not to be tolerated. On this footing Popery is not tolerated in Great Britain ; becaufe they profefs en- tire fubjeftion to a foreign power, the fee of Rome ; and therefore muft be in oppofition to the proper intereft of their own ftate ; and becaufe violence or perfecution for religion is a part of their reli- gion, which makes their profperity threaten ruin to others, as well as the principle imputed to them, which they deny, That faith is not to be kept with heretics. But, however juft this may be in a way of reafoning, we ought in general to guard againfl perfecution on a religious account as much as pof- iible, becaufe fuch as hold abfurd tenets are feldom clangerous. Perhaps they are never dangerous, but when they are opprefled. Papifts are tolerated in Holland, without danger to liberty. Ancfc- though not properly tolerated, they are now con- nived at in Britain.
In ancient times, in great ftate s, the cenforial power wcs fecund neceflary to their continuance.
Lecl. 14. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. l2l
which mfpe8:ed the manners of men. It feems probable, that fupporting the religious feels in mo- dern times anfvvers this end ; for the particular dl'f- cipline of each fed is intended for the corredion of manners.
(3.) The magiftrate may ena£l laws for the pu- iiifhment of afts of profanity and impietj. The different fentiments of men in religion olight not by any means to encourage or give a fandion to fuch acls as any of them count profane.
Many are of opinion, that, belides all this, the magiftrate ought to make public pro^'ifion for the worfhip of God, in fach manner as is agreeable to the great body of the fociety ; though, at the fame time, all who diflent from it are fully tolerated. And, indeed, there feems to be a good deal of rea*- f jn for it, that fo inftruftion may be provided for the bulk of common people, who would, many of them, neither fupport nor employ teachers, unlefs they were obliged. The magiftrate's right in this cafe feems to be fomething like that of the pa- rent ; they have a right to inilrud, but not to con- ilrain.
2. The fecond preliminary remark is, that laws fnould be fo framed as to promote fuch principles in general as are favourable to good government^ and particularly that principle, if there be one, that gave rife to the conftitution, axid is congenial to it.
Such a principle as I have in view, is generally the point of honour in a country ; and this lawgi- vers aad adniiniftrators of liw fhould e. id savour to
L3
4 2^ - LECTURES OK ' Ledl. I4.
prcfei*vc in its full vigour, for wherxcver it is un- ilermined the coiiftitution goes to ruin. . Of tliefe principles, fobrietj, induftry, and pu- blic fpirit, are tlie chief. Some ftates are formed to fubfifl by fobriety and parlimony, as the Lace- demonians,
Induftry is the prevailing principle ih others, as in Holland. Public fpirit in others, as in Greece, ancient Rome, and Britain. Only public fpirit may be diyerfified ; fometimes it is a paiTion for acquiring glory and dominion, as in Rome ; and fometimes for preferving liberty,' as U). Greece and Britain.
When I fay, that, in the management of a Hate, the utmoft attention fhould be given to the prin- ciple of the conftitution, to preferve it in its vi- gour, I mean, that though all other cr mes are bad, and in part tend to the ruin of a flate, yet this is much more the cafe with crimes againfl that prin- ciple, than any other. Ajij acl of immorality was )?ad at Sparta ; but to make poverty and parfi- mony reproachful,, and to introduce fine houfes and furniture, aad .delicate entertainments, would have been inftant ruin*
Any a<El of immorality would be hurtful in Hol- land 3 but to make fraudulent bankruptcy lefs in- famous than it is^ would immediately deflroy them.
Sobriety, induftry, and public fpirit, are nearly allied, and have a reciprocal influence upon one an- other. Yet there niay be a great degree of fome cf them, in the abfence of the others. In Spartg^ there was much fobricty and public fpirit, but little
Left. 14. MORAL PHIL030FHT. 1^3
indurcrj. In Athens, induftry and public fpirit, but very little parfimony.
In oppofition to the whole of this, Mandcvillc wrote a book, called The Faole of the Bees y which feems to be levelled againft fobriety, induflry, and public fpirit, all at once ; his pofition is. That pri- '■jate inces are public lenefitSy and that the waile and luxury of one man fupplies the wants of another. But it is eafy to overthrow his reafoning ; for, though fober and induflrious perfons fpend each lefs than a profufe perfon^, yet fobriety and induftrj tend much more to population, and by that means they are mutually ferviceable to eacli other. Lux- ury and vice only w^afle and deftroy, they add no- tliing to the common Hock of property or of hap- pineis. Experience fully jufliiies this ; for, though from the luxury of one man another may reap fome gain, the luxury of a nation always tends to the ruin, of that nation.
3. A third preliminary remark is, that laws may be of two kinds, either written, or in the breafts of magiilrates. In every conftitution of note, there is fomething of each of thefe kinds. It is uncertain, whether it is better to have many or few fpecial laws. On the one hand, it feems to be the very fpirit of a free conftitution, to have every thing as ftrifl- ly defined as poflible, and to leave little in the power of the judge. But, on the other hand, 2 multiplicity of laws is fo apt to lead to litigation, and to end in ambiguity, that perhaps judges o-f equity, chofen by the diilrid in which they live and are to aci, and choferi but for a time^ would be a more juft and etjuitable method of ending di£-
124 LECTURES oy Le£l:, 14.
ferences. But the difficulty of fettling a conftitu- tion, fo as always to fecure the eleftion of impar- tial judges, has made modem Hates, where there is liberty, prefer a multiplicity of written laws.
4. The laft preliminary remark is, that no hu- man conftitution can be fo formed, but. that there mud be exceptions to every law. So that there may be in every nation oppreilion under form of law, according to the old maxim, Sunimum jus^ summa injuria. This further fhews the neccffity of forming the manners of a people.
After having laid down thefe preliminaries, we may obferve, that the objeft of civil law^s may be divided into the three following particulars.
1 . To ratify the moral laws by the fanftion of the focietv. The tranfi^reffion of fuch laws are called crimes, as profanity, adultery, murder, ca- lumny, &:c. And they are profecuted and punifh- ed by order of the public, according to the fpirit of every conftitution.
2. To lay down a plan for all contrafts in the commerce or intercourfe between man and man ; to {how when a contra<^ is valid, and how to be proved. The tranfgrefGons of fuch laws are called
frauds. They chiefly regard the acquilition, tranf- miflion, or alienation of property.
3. To limit and direct perfons in the exercife of their own rights, and oblige them to fhew refpeft to the interfering rights of others'. This contains the whole of what is called the police of a coun- try. And the tranfgreffion of fuch laws is called trespasses, A number of things in this view may become illegal, which before were not immoral.
Left. 14. • MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 1 25
Of the Sanction of the Moral Laws,
In all polilhed nations, there are puoifhments annexed to the tranfgrellioa of the moral laws, whether againft God, our neighbour, or ourfeLves ; in the doing of which, the three following things sre chieflj neceflarj-.
1. To determine what crimes, and what de- gree of the fame crime, are to be inquired into bj the civil magiftrate. It is of neceflity that, in a free ftate, crimes Ihould be precifelj defined, that men maj not be ignorantly or raihly drawn into them. There are degrees of every crime, profanity, impurity, violence, flander, that are blame able in point of morals, nay, even fuch as fall under the difcipline of a religious fociety, that, if they were made cognizable by the civil magi- ftrate, would multiply laws and trials beyond mea- fure.
2. To appoint the methods of afcertaining the commifllon 0/ crimes. This is ufually by teltimo- ny, in which we are to confider the number and charafter of the witnelTes. Generally through ChriHendom, and indeed moft other parts of the v» orld, two witneffcs have been efteemed neceflary :o fix crimes upon an accufed perfon ; not but that *he pofitive evidence of one perfon of judgement and untainted charafter is, in many cafes, fufficient to gain belief, and often ftrongtr than two of un- known or doubtful credit ; but it was neceflary to lay down fome rule, and two are required, to guard againft the danger of hired evidence, and to
126 LECTURES ON Ledl. 14.
give an opportunity of trying how they agree to- gether. To have required more would have made a proof dlfHcult or impofnble in many cafes.
It feems to be a maxim in law, and founded on reafon, That in the cafe of what are called occult crimes, fuch as murder, adultery, forgery, and fome others, where the nature of the thing lliows that there muft be a penury of evidence, they fome- times content themfelves with fewer witnelTes, if 1?here are corroborating circumftances to flrengthen their teftimony.
It feems to be a matter not cafily decided, w^he- ther it be agreeable to reafon and juftice, in the cafe of very atrocious crimes, that, on account of the atrocity, lefs evidence fhould be fufficient for convi<Elion, or that more fhould be required. On the one hand, the more atrocious the crime, the greater the hurt to fociety, and the more need of public vengeance. On the other hand, the more atrocious the crime, and the heavier the punifli^ ment, it feems agreeable to juftice, that the con- viction fhould be upon the more unqueflioned evi- dence. Lawyers are feen to take their common places, fometimes the one way, fometimes the other. It is often thought, that in praftice lefs evidence is fufficient to convift a man of murder, forgery, rape, and other crimes of a deep dye. But I am perfuaded, that the appearance is owing to the greater and more general eagemefs to difco- ver the perpetrators of fuch crimes. Others arc fuffered to efcape more eafily ', not that more evi-- dence is neceffary, but that it is mere difficult to get. at the evidence.
L^^t. 14. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. lit
Evidence maj be diilinguiilied into two kindsj dir-^ct and circumstantiaL Dire£l evidence is when the witnefles fwear to their fight or knowledge of the accufed committing the crime. Circumiiantial, when they only fwear to certain fafts which cannot be fuppofed to have exifted, unlefs the crime had been committed ; as, a man found dead, another found near the place, wuth a weapon bloody, or clothes bloody, &c. Some have affirmed, that circumftantial evidence is ftronger than direct: ; but it mull be taken with very great caution and judge^ ment.
3. The law is to proportion and appoint the punifhment due to every crime, when proven.
PuTulliment in all regular flates, is taken wholly out of the hands of the injured perfons, and com- mitted to the magiftrate, though in many or mod cafes the injured party is fuffered to join the magi- ftrate in the profecution, and to have a certain claim, by way of reparation, as far as that is prac- ticable.
Therefore the puniibment in general muft con- fift of two parts : (i.) The reparation to the fuf- ferer : (2.) The 'u'mdicta public ay which has foaie- times two ends in view, to be an example to others, and to reclaim and reform the offender, as in cor- poral puniiliment lefs than death ; fometunes b\it one, the good of others in the example, as in ca- pital punifhments, and banifhment.
The kind of punifliment, and the degree, is left wholly to different lawgivers, and the fpirit of dif- ferent conftitutions. Public utility is the rule. Punifhment is not always proportioned to the atro-
1^8 LECTURES ON Left. I4.
cioufnefs of the crime in- point of morals, but to the frequency of it, and the danger of its prevail- ing.
Some nations require, and fome will bear, great- er fe verity in punifhments than others.
The fame, or fimilar conduct, often produces oppofite effefts. Severe laws, ancl fevere punifh- "ments, fometimes banifh crimes, but very often the contrary. When laws are very fanguinary, it often makes the fubjefls hate the law more than they fear it ; and the tranfitlon is very eafy, from hating the law, to hating thofe who are entrufled with the execution of it. Such a ftate of things threatens infurreftions and con\Tilfions, if not the difTolution of a government.
Another ufual efFeft of excelTive feverity in law? is, that they are not put in execution. The public is not willing to lend its aid to the difpovery and convi£lion &i offenders ; fo that in time the law itfelf becomes a mere hrutum fulijieuy and lofes its authority.
I may make one particular remark, that, though many things are copied from the law of Mofes in- to the laws of the modern nations, yet, fo far as I know, none of them have introduced the lex taHo- mV in the cafe of injuries, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, &c. ; and yet perhaps there are many inftances in which it would be very proper. The equity of the puniihment would be quite ma- nifeft, and probably it would be as etfeftual a re- ftraint from the commifiion of injury, as any that could be chofen.
The concluding remark fhall be, that it is but
Left. 14. MORAL PHILOSOPHT. I29
feldom that very fevere and fanguinarj laws are of fervice to the good order of a ftate ; but, after laws have been fixed with as much equity and modera- tion as poiBble, the execution of them fhould be ilridl and rigorous. Let the laws be jufl, and the magiflrate inflexible.
LECTURE XV.
THE fecond obje£t of civil laws being to regu- late the making of contracts, and the whole intercourfe between man and man, relating to the acquifition, pofTeffion, and alienation of property, we mull couiider carefully the nature of
Contracts,
A contmct is a ftipulation between two parties, before at liberty, to make fome alteration of pro- perty, or to bind one or both parties to the perform- ance of fome fer\'ice.
Contracts are abfolutely iieceflary in focial life. Every tranfaction almoft may be confidered as a contract, either more or lefs explicit.
The principal thing which conftitutes a contrail is confent. But, in fome kinds of contracts, viz. the gratuitous, the confent of the receiver is pre- fumed. In the tranfmifiion of eftates by donation or teftament, this is prefumed j and thofe who arc
Vol. VII. M
ijo LECTURES ON Le£l:. 15,
incapable of giving their confent through infancy, Inaj, notw'ithilanding, acquire property and rights. When a man comes into a fettled country, and pur- chafes property, he is fuppofed, befides every other part of the bargain, to purchafe it under fuch con- ditions, and fabje<5l himfelf to fuch laws as are in force in that country.
Contrails are faid to be of three degrees, in point of fulnefs and precifion. (i.) A fimple af- firmation of a defign as to futurity ; as when I fay to any one, that I fhall go to fuch a place to-mor- row ; this is not properly binding ; and it is fappo- fed, that many things may occur to make me alter my refolution. Yet a frequent alteration of pro- fefled purpofes gives the chara6ler of levity ; there- fore a prudent man will be cautious of declaring his purpofes, till he is well determined. (2.) A gratuitous prornife of doing fome favour to me. This is not made binding in law, nor does it ufually convey a perfcil right, becaufe it fuppofes that the perfon who w^as the objeft of good-will, may, hy altering his behaviour, forfeit his title to it, or that the perfon promifing may find it much more incon- venient, coftly, or hurtful to himfelf, than he fup- pofed ; or, laflly, that what was intended as a fer- vice, if performed, appears plainly to be an injury. In the laft cafe, every one mull fee that it cannot be binding ; but in the two former, I apprehend, thai in all ordinary cafes, a diftant prornife is binding in confcience, though it may not be necellary to make it binding, in lav/. I faj-, all ordinary cafes, becaufe it is eafy to figure a cafe in which I may make a prornife to another, and fuch v.ircumflances
Lecl, 15* MORAL PHILOSOPHY. I3I
may afterwards occur, as I am quite confident, if the perfon knew, he would not hold me to my pro- mife. (3.) The third degree i$ a complete con- trad, with confent on both iides, and obligation upon one or both.
The elTentials of a contrail which render it va- lid, and any of which bemg wanting it is void, are as follow.
That it be, i. Free. 2. Mutual. 3. Po5ible. 4. Careful. 5. With a capable perfon. 6. For- mal.
1. It muil be free. Contrafls made by unjuiL force are void always in law, and fometimes in confcience. It muft, however, be unjuft force, becaufe, in treaties of peace between nations, as we have feen before, force does not void the con- tract ; and even in private life, fometimes men are forced to enter into contracts by the order of a magiitrate, fometimes by the threatening of legal profecutioxV, which does not make them void.
2. They mult be mutual, that is, the confent of the one as well as that of the other muft be had. Contracts in this view become void, either by fraud on one iide, or by elTential error. If any man contrives a contra^, fo as to bind the other party, and keep himfelf free, this fraud certainly'- nullifies the agreement ; or if there is an elTential error in the perfon or the thin^, as if a perfon fiiould oblige himfelf to one man, fuppofing him to be another.
3. Contracts fhould be of things evidently pof- fible, and probably in our power. Contracts by
M2
13^ LECTURES ON Le61:. 15.
which men oblige themfelVes to do things impof- fible, are, no doubt, void from the beginning -, but if the impoflibilitj was known to the contradl- ing party, it muft have been either abfurd or frau- dulent. When things engaged for become impof- iible by the operation of providence, without a man's own fault, the contrail is void, and he is guilt- lefs ; as if a man fhould covenant to deliver, at a certain place and time, a number of cattle ; and, when he is almoft at the place of deftination, they Ihould be killed by thunder, or any other accident out of his power.
4. Contradls muft be of things lawful. All en- gagements to do things wilawful, are from the be- ginning void ; but by unlawful muft be undei-ftood the violation of perfe<Sl rights. If a man oblige himfelf, for a reward, to commit murder, or any kind of fraud, the engagement is void ; but it was criminal in the tranfa£ling, and the reward ought to be returned, or given to public ufes. There are many contrads, however, v/hich are very blame- able in makin-;, that muft, notwithftanding, be kept, and muft not be made void in law ; as -rafti and faoliih bargains, where there was no fraud on the other fide. If fuch were to be voided, great confufion would be introduced. The cafes of this kind are numerous, and may be greatly diver- fified.
3. Contrails muft be made with a capable per- fon, that is to fay, of age, underftanding, at liber- ty, Sec. It is pa'-i of the civil law, or rather mu*. iiicipal law, o every country, to fix the time of life whei. pcrfons arc fuppofed capable of tranfact-
Le^. 15. mohal philosophy. 133
ing their own affairs. Some time mufl be fixed, otherwife it would occafioii numberlefs difputes, tjilTicult to be decided. A man at the age of four- teen, and a woman at twelve, may chufe guardians, who can alienate their property ; but", at the age of twenty-one, they have their eilates wholly in their own hand.
6. Contracts mufl be formal.
The laws of every country limit a great many circuniilances of ihe nature, obligation, extent, an4 duration, of contracls.
Having pointed out fonierhing of the elTential characlcrs of all lawful contracls, I obferve, they may be di\-ided two di^ercnt ways, (i.) Con-, trads are either abfolut2 or conditional. The ab- folute are fuch as are fufpended upon no condition, but fuch as are effential to every cDntra;£l: which have been mentioned above. Such as, when a perfon makes a fettlemcnt upon another, without referve, then, whether he behave well or ill, whe- ther it be convenient or inconvenient, it muil be fulfilled. Conditional contrads are thsfe that arc fufpended on any uncertain future contingency, or fome performance by the oppofite party. Of this laft fort are almoft all tranfa^ions in the way of commerce ; which leads to the (2.) way of di'v-i- ding contracls, into beneficent and onerous. Tl;d firfl is, when one freely brings himfelf under, an obligation to beftow any favour, or do any fervice, as donations or legacies, and undei-taking the ofEjce of guardian of another perfon's eilate.
The oaerous contrad is, wlien an caual vaL:c 13
M3
134 LECTURES ow Left. 1 5,
fuppofed to be given on both fides, as is the cafe, for the moft part, in the alienation of property, and the tranfaftions between man and man, and between fociety and fociety.
To this place belongs the queftion about the lawfulnefs of lending money upon intereft. If we confider money as an inftrument of commerce, and giving an opportunity of making profit, there feems plainly to be nothing unjuft that the lender fhould ihare in the advantage ariling from his own pro- perty.
The chief thing neceflfary is, that the ftate, or governing part of the fociety, fliould fettle tlie rate of intereft, and not fuifer it to depend upon the ne- ceflity of the poor, or the covetoufnefs of the rich. If it is not fettled by law, ufury will be the certain confequence.
The law of Mofes does not feem to have admit- ted the taking of intereft at all from an Ifraelite. It is thought, however, that the main reafon of this muft have been drawn from fomething in their conftilution, as a ftate that rendered it improper ; for, if it had been in itfelf immoral, they would not have been permitted to take it of ftrangers.
Of the Marh or Signs of Contracts .
All known and intelligent marks of confent are the figns and means of completing contrafts. The chief of thefe, however, are words and writing, as being found \\\^ moft eafy and ufeful. Words arc, of all others, the moft natural and proper for gi\ing immediste confefit, and writing to perpetuate
Le£l. 15. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. I35
the memory of the tranfa6llon. There are, how- ever, many other figns that may be made ufe of, and wherever there is a real purpcfe of fignifying our intention, by which others are brought to de- pend upon it, the engagement is real, and we are bound in confcience, though the law in every country muft of neceflity be more limited. The whole refts uhimately oa the obligation to ficcerity in the focial life.
This obligation arifes from the teflimony of confcience, and from the manifeft utility, and even neceflity, of fincerity to focial intercourfe.
Signs are divided into natural^ instituted, and customary. Natural {ig-ns are thofe which have either a real likenefs to the thing fignified, or fuch a known and univerfal relation to it, that all men mull naturally be led from the one to the other, as a picliure is a natural fign, becaufe a reprefentation of the thing painted. An inflamed fuUen counte- nance and fiery eyes, are natural figns of anger, becaufe they are the univerfai efFedls of that paf- fion.
Inilituted figns are thofe that have no other con- neclion with the thing fignified, than what has been made by agreement ; as, if two perfons ihall agree between themfelves, that if the one wants to fignify to the other at a diftance, that he wifhes him to come to his afliftance, he will kindle a fire upon a certain hill, or hang out a flag upon a cer- tain pinnacle of his houfe, or fome part of his ihip. Words and writing are properly inilituted figns, for they h?.ve no relation to the ihing fignified, but
13^ LECTURES ON Left. 15.
wliat origmal agreement and long cufiom has given them.
Cuftomarj figns are no other th^in inilituted fign^ which have long prevailed, and whote inftitution has cither been accidental, or has been forgotten. It is alfo ufaal to apply the word customary to fuch figns as depend upon the mode and faihion of par-' ticular countries. There are feme figns and pof- tures, which, though they may feein perfectly ar- bitrary, have obtained very generally, perhaps Uni- verfally ; as, bending dov/n the body, or proflra- tion, as a {\gvii of refpect and reverence ; kneeling, and lifting up the hands, as a fign of fubmiffion and fupplication. Perhaps, both thefe are natural, as they put the perfon into the fituatioa leaft ica- pable of refiftance.
Sometimes there is a mixture of natural and in- ftitiited figns ; as, if a man fends a pair of wings, or the figure of them, to a friend, to intimate his danger, and the necefTity of fleeing.
In the ule of figns, the great rule of fincerity is, that wherever we are bound, and wherever we profefs to communicate our intention, we ought to life the figns in the leaft ambiguous manner pof- fible. When we have no intention, and are under no obligation, to communicate any thing to others, it is of fmall moment what appearances are ; it is their bufinefs not to make any unnecefiary or uncer- tain inferences. A light in a houfe, inr the middle of the night, will perhaps fuggeft moft probably, to a traveller accidentally pafiing, that there is fome body fick ia Ifhat houfe ; yet perhaps it is ex-
Left. 15. MORAL PHIXOSOPHY. I57
traordinary ftudy or buiinefs that keeps fome per- fons awake.
Naj, when there is no obligation to give, nor any reafon for the party to expe6V, true information, it is held generally no crime at all to ufe fuch figns as we have reafon to fuppofe will be mifiaken ; as, when one who does not defire to be diftm"bed, keeps his chamber clofe fhut, that people may conclude he is not there ; when a general of an- army puts a fire in the camp, to conceal his march or retreat. And probably none would think it faulty, when there was an apprehension of thieves, to keep a light burning in a chamber, to lead them to fuppofe ihe whole family is not at reft.
There are fome who place in the fame rank, e- vafive phrafes, when there is an apparent intention to fpeak our mind, but no right in the other to obtain it. Such expreflions may be ftriclly true, and yet there is all probability that the hearer will mifunderftand them ; as, if one fliould alk if a perfon was in any houfe, and ILould receive for anfwer, he went away yeflerday morning ; when, perhaps, he returned the fanie evening. I look upon tliefe evaiions, however, as very doubtful, and, indeed, rather not to be chofen, becaufe they feem to contain a profeilioa of telling our real mind.
Some mention ironical fpeech as an exception to the obligation to fincerity. But it is properly no objection at all, becaufe there is no deception. Truth lies not in the words themfelves, but in the ufe of them as figns. Therefore, if a man fpeak his words in fuch a tone and manner, as the hearer
138 LECTURES ON Led. 15,
immediately conceives they are to be tak^n in an oppofite fenfe, and does really take them in the fenfe the fpeaker means them, tliere is no falfchood ax all.
Mr Hutchinfon, and fome others, alfow a vo- luntary intended departure from truth, on occafion of fome great ueceillty for a good end. This I apprehend is wrong, for we cannot bat confider de- >ception as in itfelf bafe and unworthy, and there- fore a good end cannot juflify it. Beiides> to fup- pofeit were in men's power, on a fufTicient occa- fion, to violate truth, would greatly deltroy its force in general, and its ufe in the focial life.
There are two forts of falfehood, which, becaufe no doubt they are lefs aggravate^ than malicious interefted lies, many admit of, but I think without fufiicient reafon.
1. Jocular lies, when there is a real deception intended, but not in any thing material, nor intend- ed to continue long. However harmlefs thefe may feem, I reckon they are to be blamed, becaufe it is uiing too much freedom with fo facred a thing as truth. And very often fuch perfons, as a righteous punifhment in Providence, are left to proceed fur- ther, and eiiher to carry their folly to fuch excefs, as to become contemptible, or to go beyond folly into malice.
2. Officious lies, telling falfehoods to children or iick perfons, for their good. Thefe very fel- dom anfvver the end that is propofed. They lefien the reverence for truth ; and, particularly with re- gard to children, are exceedingly pernicious ; fpr, as th^y muft foon be difcovercd, they lofe their
Le6l. 15. MORAL PHILOSOPHT. I39
force, and teach them to deceive. Truth and au- thority are methods infinitely preferable, in deal- ing with children, as well as with perfons of riper years.
LECTURE XVI. Of Oaths and Vows,
A?>IONG the figns and appendages of con- tracts, are oaths and vows.
An oath is an appeal to God, the Searcher of hearts, for the truth of what we fay, and always exprefTes or foppofes an imprecation of his judge- ment upon us, if we prevaricate.
An oath, therefore, implies a belief in God, and his pro\-idence, and indeed is an a5: of wonnip, and fo accounted in fcripture, as in that expreflion, "Ihcu shall fear the Lord God, and shalt swear by his jiaJ7ie. Its ufe in human affairs is very great, when managed with judgement. It may be ap- plied, and indeed has been commonly ufed, i. In the contra6ts of independent ftates, who have no common earthly fuperior. In ancient times, it was ufual always to clofe national treaties by mu- tual oaths. This form is not fo common in mo- dem times, yet the fubflance remains ; for an ap- peal is always fuppofed to be made to God, againil the breach of public faith.
2. It has bten adopted by all nations, in tbeir
14® LECTURES ON Led. l6.
adminiilration of juftice, in order to difcover truth. The mofl common and.miiverfal application of it has been, to add greater folemnity to the teftimony of witnefles. It is alfo fometimes made ufe of with the parties themfelves, for conviction or pur- gation. The laws of every country point out the cafes in which oaths are required or admitted in public judgement. It is, however, lawful, and in common practice, for private perfons, voluntarily, on folemn occafions, to confirm what they fay by oath. Perfons entering on public offices, are alfo often obliged to make oath, that they will faith- fully execute their truft.
Oaths are commonly divided into two kinds, as^ sertory and promissory ; thofe called purgatory fall under the firft of thefe divifions. There is, per- haps, little neceflity for a divifion of oaths, for they do not properly Hand by themfelves ; they are confirmations and appendages of contrafts, and intended as an additional fecurity for fmcerity, in the commerce between man and man.
Therefore oaths are fabjedl: to all the fame regu- lations as contrails, or rather oaths are cnly law- ful when they are in aid or confirmation of a law- ful contradi:. What, therefore, voids the pne, will void the other, and nothing elfe. A contrad, o- therwifc unlawful, cannot be made binding by an .oath ; but there muft be a very great caution ufed not to make any unlawful centred, much lefs to confirm it by an oath.
It is eafy to fee the extreme abfurdlty of our being obliged to fulfil a criminal engagement by oath J for it would imply, that out of reverence to
L^£l:. l6. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. I4I
God we ought to bteak his commands ; but nothing can be more abominable than the principle of tliofe who think thej maj fafelj take an unlawful oath, becaufe it is not binding ; this is aggravating grofs injuftice by deliberate profanity.
I have faid, that oaths are appendages to all law- ful contracts ; but in aflertorj oaths, which are only- confirmations of our general obligation to fincerity, it is neceflary, not only that what we fay be true, but that the occalion be of fufficient nioment to re- quire or juftify a folemn appeal to God. Swearing on common occafions is unneceiTary, rafh, profane, and deftru6live of the folemnity of an oath, and its real ufe.
From the general rule laid down, that oaths are lawful when applied to lawful contrails, it will follow, that they become unlawful only w^hen the fulfilling of them would be violating a perfed right ; but perhaps an additional obfervation is ne- celTary here. Contrails mull be fulfilled, when they violate an imperfe6t right ; whereas fome oaths may be found criminal and void, though they are only contrary to imperfect rights ; as for example, fome perfons bind themfelves rafhly by oath, that they will never fpeak to, or forgive their children, who have offended them. This is fo evidently criminal, that nobody v.-ill plead for its being obligatory, and yet it is but the violation of an imperfe£l right. The fame perfons, however, might in many ways alienate their property, to the prejudice of their children, by contracts which the law would oblige them to fulfil.
Vol. VII. N
141 LECTURES 0!T Lecl:» l6.
In vow?, there is no party but God, and the perfon himfelf who makes the vow. For this rea- fon, Mr Hutchinfon relaxes their obligation very much ; fuppoiing any perfon had folemnly vowed to give a certain part of his fubftance to public or pious ufes, he fays, if he finds it a great inconve- nience to himfelf or family, he is not bound. This, I apprehend, is too lax. Men ought to be cau- tious in making fuch engagements ; but I appre- hend, that when made, if not dire£lly criminal^ they ought to be kept.
Of the Use of Symhols in Contracts,
Besides promifes and oaths, there is fometimes, in contrails, a ufe of other vifible figns, called fymbols ; the mofl common among us are, figning and fealing a written deed. There is alfo, in fome places, the delivery of earth and ftone in making over land, and fundry others. In ancient times, it was ufual to have folemn fymbols in all treaties, mutual gifts, fscrifices, feafts, fetting up pillars. The intention of all fuch things, whenever and wherever they have been pra6lifed, is the fame. It is to afcertain and keep up the memory of the tranfaftion. They were more frequent and folemn in ancient times than now, becaufe before the in- vention of writing they were more necelTary.
Of the Value of Property.
Before we finifli the fubjedl of contra(9:s, it may te proper to fay a little of the nature and value of
Led. l6. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 1 43
property, which is the fubjecl of them. Nothing has any real value, unlefs it be of fome ufe in hu- man life, or, perhaps we may fay, unlefs it be fuppofed to be of ufc, and fo becomes the object of human defire ; becaufe, at particular times, and in particular places, things of very little real im- poutance acquire a v^lue, which is commonly tem- porary and changeable. Shells and baubles are of great value in fome places ; perhaps there are fome more baubles highly valued in every place.
But, though it is their ufe in life that gives things their value in general, it does not follow, tliat thofe things which are of moil ufe and necef- fity, are therefore of greateft value as property, or in commerce. Air and water, perhaps we may add fire, are of the greatell ufe and neceffity ; but they are alfo in greateil plenty, and therefore are of little value as a polTeilion or property. Value is in proportion to the plenty of any commodity, and the demand for it ; the one taken in the inverfe, and the other in the dired proportion.
Hence it follows, that money is of no real va- lue. It is not wealth properly, but the lign of it, and, in a fixed ilate of fociety, the certain means of procuring it. In early times, traffic was car- ried on by exchange of goods ; but, being large, not eafily divided or tranfported, they became very troublefome. Therefore, it foon became neceffary to fix upon feme fign of wealth, to be a Handard by which to rate different commodities.
Any thing that is fit to anfwer the purpofe of a common fign of wealth, mufl have the following N a
144 LECTURES ow Le^, 16,
properties: It mufl: be, i. Valuable; that is, have an intrinfic commercial value, and rare, o- therwile it could have i>o comparative value at all. 2. Durable, otherwife it could not pafs from hand to hand. 3. Divifible, fo that it might be in larger or fmaller quantities, as are required. 4. Portable, it muft not be of great fize, other- wife it would be extremely inconvenient.
Gold and iilver were foon found to have all thefe properties, and therefore are fixed upon as the fign of wealth. But, befides being the fign of the va- lue of other commodities, they themfelves are alfo matters of commerce, and therefore increafe or de- creafe in their value, by their plenty or fcarce*. nefs.
It may feem to belong to the ruling part of any fociety, to fix the value of gold and filver, as figns of the value of commodities ; and, no doubt, they do fix it nominally in their dominions. But in this they are obliged to be ftri£lly attentive to the value of thefe metals as a commodity, from their plenty or fcarcenefs, otherwife their regulations will be of little force ; other nations will pay no regard to the nominal value of any particular country ; and even in internal commerce, the fubjefl would fix a value upon the figns, according to their plenty.
It is as prejudicial to commerce to make the nominal value of the coin of any country too fmall, fts too great.
We {hall clofe this part of the fubje^, by fpeak- ing a little of the
Le<a. 16. MORAL PUlLOSOPHt. 14j|
Righu of Necessity, and Common Rights.
These are tjertain powers afiumed both bj pri- vate perfons and communities, which are fuppofed to be authorifed by the neceflitj of the cafe, and fupported by the great law of reafon.
There will remain a great number of cafes, in which thofe rights of necellitj are to be ofed, even in the beil regulated civil fociety, and after the moll mature deliberation and forefight of pro- bable events, and provifion for them by fpecific laws.
Were a man perifiiing with hunger, and denied food by a perfon who could ealily afford it him, here the rights of neceiHty would juilify him in ta- king it by violence. Were a city on fire, and the blowing up of an houfe would fave the far greater part, though the owner was unwilling, men vTould think themfehxs juflified in doing it whether he would or not. Much more would men, in cafes of urgent necellity, make free with the property of others, without afldng their confent, but prefuming upon it.
In our own government, where, by the love of liberty general among the people, and the nature of the conflitution, as many particulars have been determined by fpecial laws, as m any government in the world ; yet inflanccs of the rights of necef- ijty occur every day. If I fee one man rob ano* ther upon the high-way, or am iriformed of it, if I have courage and ability, I purfue the robber^ N3
14^ LECTURES 0!f Left. 1 6.
and apprehend him without any warrant, and car- ry him* before a magiftrate, to get a warrant for "what I have already done. Nothing is more com- rnon in Britain than to force people to fell their in- heritance, or a part of it, to make a road or flreet ilraight or commodious. In this inftance, it is not fo much neceffity as great utility.
The quellion of the greateft moment here is. Whether the eflablifliing thefe rights of neceffity does not derogate from the j^erfeftion and immuta- bility of the moral laws ? If it be true, that we may break in upon the laws of juftice for the fake of utility, is not this admitting the exploded maxim. That we may do evil, that good may come ? I an- fwcr, That thefe rights of neceffity have in general property as their object, or at moft the life of par- ticular perfons ; and it feems to be infeparable from the eflablifhment of property in the focial ftate, that our property is to be held only in fuch manner, and to fuch a degree, as to be both con- fiftent with, and fubfervient to, the good of others. And therefore, thefe extraordinary cafes are agree- able to the tacit or implied conditions of the focial contrail.
In rights of neceffity, we are to confider, not only the prefent good or evil, but for all time to come, and particularly the fafety or danger of the example. Where the repetition of the thing in fi- mllar circumflances would have a fatal effe£V, it ought not to be done. If a city were under all the miferies of famine, and a fhip or two fhould arrive with grain, the owner of which would not fell it, but at a moll exorbitant price, perhaps ecjuitj
Lecl. i6. MORAL PHiLOSofHr. if47
might admit that they fhould be compelled ; but if any fuch thing were done, it would prevent others from going near that place again.
It would be of no confequence to determine thefe rights of neceffity by law. If the law defcribed circumftantially what might be done, it would be no longer a right of neceflity, but a legal right. To forbid them by law would be either ineffechial, or it would abolilh them altogether, and deprive the fociety of the benefit of them, when the cafes fhould occur. Things done by the rights of necef. fity, are, by fuppofiiion, illegal ; and if the necef- fity does not excufe, the perfon who pretends them may be punifned. If I am aiding in pulling down a man's houfe, on pretence of flopping a fire, if he afterwards makes it appear, that there was not the leaft occafion for it, or that I, being his enemy, took the opportunity of this pretence to injure him, he will obtain reparation.
As property, or at moll life, is concerned in the rights of neceffity, ftill the moral laws continue in force. Whatever expreiTes an evil difpofition of mind does not fall under the rule, becaufe it caa never be neceiTary to the doing of any good. The pretence of its being necefiary in lome cafes is ge- nerally chimerical ; and even were it real, the ne- ceffity could not juilify the crime ; as, fuppofe a robber, very profane, Ihould threaten a man with death, unlefs he would blafpheme God, or curfc his parents, &c.
There are certain things, called common rights, which the public is fuppofed to have over every member i the chief of them are, i, Diligeace.
148 LECTURES ON "LcQ:, 16.
As a man mufl eat, the community have a right to compel him to be ufeful ; and have a right to make laws airainfl fuicide. 2. They have a right to the difcover}^ of ufeful inventions, provided an adequate price be paid to the difcoverer. 5. They have a right to infift upon fuch things as be- long to the dignity of human nature. Thus all na- tions pay rcfpedl to dead bodies, though there is no reafon for it, but that we cannot help aflbciating with the body, even dead, the ideas which arife from it, and belonged to the whole perfon when a- live.
3. The third and laft objecl of civil laws is, li- miting citizens in the exercife of their rights, fo that they may not be injurious to one another, but that the public good may be promoted.
This includes the giviiig directions in what way arts and commerce may be carried on, and in fome Hates extends as far as the poffeflions of private perfons.
It includes the whole of what is called the police of a community ; the manner of travelling, build- ing, marketing, time and manner of holding all forts of afiemblies ; in arts and commerce, parti- cularly, the police fhows its power.
It will only be neceflary here to make a few remarks on the nature and fpirit of thofe laws.
I. Thofe things in themfelves are arbitrary and mutable, for there is no morality in them, but what arifes from common utility. We may fome- times do things in a way better than that appoint- ed by law, and yet it is not allowed*. . 2. Men ijn general have but a very light feiife of
Le«fl:. l5. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. I4<>
the malignity of tranfgrefiing thefe laws, fuch a% running of goods, breaking over a fence, &.c.
3. In the beft conftitutions, fome fandlions are appointed for the breach of thcfe laws. Wherever a Hate is founded upon the principles of liberty, fuch laws are made with feverity, and executed with ftridlnefs.
Finally, a man of real probity and virtue adopts thefe laws as a part of his duty to God and the fo- ciety, and is fubjedl, not only for wrath, but aKo for confcience fake.
, RECAPITULATION.
Having gone through the three general divifion^ of this fubjeft, Ethics, Politics, and Jurifprudence, I fhall conclude with a few remarks upon the whole, and mention to you the chief writers who have diftinguiihed themfelves in this branch of fcience.
I. You may plainly perceive, both how exten- five, and how important moral philofophy is. As to extent, each of the diviHons we have gone through might have been treated at far greater length. Nor would it be unprofitable to enter into a fuller dlfquifition of many points j but this mud be left to every fcholar's inclination and opportmiitie-s in future life. Its importance is manifell from this circumflance, that it not only points out perfo- nal duty, but is related to the whole bufinefs of ac- tive life. The languages, arxd even mathematical
tS^ LECTURES ow Left. l5.
and natural knowledge, are but hard words to this fuperlor fcience.
2. The evidence which attends moral difquifi- tions, is of a different kind from that which attends mathematics and natural philofophy ; but it re- mains as a point to be difculTed, whether it is more uncertain or not. At iirll fight, it appears that au- thors differ much more, and more effentially, on the principles of moral than natural philofophy. Yet perhaps a time may come, when men, treat- ing moral philofophy as Newton and his fucceffors have done natural, may arrive at greater precifion. It is always fafer, in our reafonings, to trace fafts upwards, than to reafon downwards upon metaphy- seal principles. An attempt has been lately made by Beatty, in his Effay on Truth, to eftablifh cer- tain impreflions o^ common fenfe, as axioms and firfl principles of all our reafonings on moral fub*^ je£ls.
3. The differences about the nature of virtue are not, in faiSl, fo great as they appear ; they amount to nearly the fame thing in the iffue, when the par- ticulars of a virtuous life come to be enumerated.
4. The different foundations of virtue are many of them not oppolite or repugnant to each other, but parts of one great plan ^ as benevolence and felf-love, &.C. They all confpire to found real virtue j the authority of God, the dictates of con- fcience, public happinefs, and private intereff, all coincide.
5. There is nothing certain or valuable in moral philofophy, but what is pericifliy coincident with the fcripture, where the glory of God is the firil
Left, 1 6. MORAL PHILOSOPHY. Ijl
principle of aftion, arifing from the fubjeftion of the creature ; -where the good of others is the great objed of duty, and our ovm intereft the necellary confequence.
In the firll dawn of philofophy, men began to write and difpute about virtue. The great inquiry among the ancients was, what was the iummum ho» num / by which, it fecms, they took it for grant- ed, that vinue and happinefs were the fame thing. The chief combatants here, were the ftoics and e- picureans. The firft infifted that virtue was the summum honuniy that pleafure was no good, and pain no evil ; the other faid, that the summum hc^ num confifled in pleafure, or rather that pleafure was virtue ; the academics and Platonifls went a middle way between thefe.
I am not feniible that there is any thing among the ancients, that wholly correfponds with the mo- dem difpute upon the foundation of virtue.
Since the difputes arofe in the fixteenth and feventeenth centuries, fome of the moft coniider- able authors, chiefly Britifh, are, Leibnitz, his Theodicee and his Letters ; — Hutchinfon's Inqui- ries into the Ideas of Beauty and Virme, and his Syftem ; — Wollafton's Religion of Nature delinea- ted : — Collins on Human Liberty ; — Nettleton on Virtue and Happinefs j — David Hume's Eflavs ; — Lord Kames's EiTays ; — Smith's Theory of Mo- ral Sentiments ; — Reid's Inquiry ; — Balfour's De- lineation of Morality ; — Butler's Analogy and Ser- mons ;— Balguy's Tra£ls ; — Theory of Agreeable Senfations, from the French ; — Beatty on Truth j — EiTay on Virtue and Harmony.
152 LECTURES ON, &c. Left. t6»
To thefe maj be added the whole deiftical wri- ters, and the anfwers written to each of them in particular, a brief account of which may be feen in Leland's View of the Deiftical Writers.
Some of the chief writers upon government and politics are, Grotius, PufFendorf, Barberac, Cum- berland, Selden, Burlamaqui, Hobbes, Machiavel, Harrington, Locke, Sydney — and fome late books, Montefquieu's Spirit of LaVs ; Fergufon's Hiftory of Civil Society ; Lord Karnes's Political Eflays ; Grandeur and Decay of the Roman Empire ; Mon- tague's Rife and Fall of Ancient Republics ; Go- guet's Rife and Progrefs of Laws, Arts, and Sciences.
JLECTIJR^ES
ON
ELOQUENCE.
Vol. Vri.
, I
LECTURES
ON
ELOQUENCE.
Gentlemen, T T TE, are now vo enter on the ftudj of eloquence, ^ ' or, as perhaps it ought to be called, from the- manner in which you will find it treated. Com- l^ofition, Tafte, and Criticifm.
Eloquence is undoubtedly a very noble art, and .when poiTell'ed in a high degree, has been, I think, in all ages, one of the moll admired and envied ta- Jents. It has not only been admired in all age?-, but, if I am not miilaken, among all ranks. Its power is univerfally felt, and therefore probably the talent more univerfally elleemed than either ge- nius or improvement in feveral other kinds of hu- man excellence. Military Ikill and political wif- dom have their admirers-, but far inferior in num-
03
15^ LECTURES OK Left. 1.
ber to thofe who admire, envy, or would wifli to imitate, him that has the power of perfuafion.
Plato, in his Republic, or, Idea of a well-regu- lated State, has baniflied orators, under pretence that their power over the minds of men is danger- ous, and liable to abufe. Some moderns have adopted the fame fentiments.
Sir Thomas More, in his Utopia, I believe, (though I am not certain), has embraced it. But this is a manner of thinking and reafoning altoge- ther fuperficial. It v/ould militate equally againfl all cultivation of the mind, and indeed againfl eve- ry human excellence, natural and acquired. They are, and have been, and may be, abufed by men of vicious difpolitions. But how (hall this be pre- X^ented ? It is impoflible. How Ihall it be counter- acted ? Only by affifting the good in the cultiva- tion of their powers, and then the fame weapons will be ufed in defence of truth and virtue, with much greater advantage than they can be in fuppor^ of falfehood and vice. Learning in general, pof- fefied by a bad man, is unfpeakably pernicious, and that very thing has fometimes made weak 3)eople fpeak againft learning ; but it is juft as ab- furd, as if, in the confines of a country expofed to hoftile inroads, the inhabitants fhould fay, We will build no forts for protection, becaufe, if the enemy get into poffeflion of them, they will become the means of annoyance : we will ufe no arms for de- fence ; for, if the enemy take them from us, they will be turned againft us.
Perhaps it may be proper to take notice of what the apoflle Paul fays, ia his firll epiftle to the Cc-
Lea I. ELOQUEjrCE. t|f
rinthians, in feveral places, particularly from the beginning of the 2d chapter, <^ And I, brethren,^ &:c. and in the 4th chapter, nth verfe, " And my Ipeech and my preaching was not," &.c. I have mentioned this, to prevent any of you miftaking, or being prejudifed againil, the fubjed, and fliall obferve upon it, that the meaning of the apoftle in this and other fimilar paiTages, is fully comprehend- ed in one or more of the following particulars : I. That he came not to the Corinthians with an artful delufive eloquence, fucli as the fophiils of thofe days made ufe of to varnilh over their fooliih fentiments. 2, That he came not to Ihew his fkiii in fpeaking for and againfl any tiling, as many of them did, not to difcover or communicate truth, but to difplay their own talents. 3. That the truths he had to communicate needed no ornaments to fet them off, and were not by any means adapt- ed to the proud fpirit of the world. And, 4. That he would ufe the greateft felf- denial, and not by any means attempt to recommend himfelf as a man of ability and learning, but content himfelf with the humble and limple doftrine of the crofs. And the truth is, after the higheil improvement in the art of fpeaking, there muft be the greateft referve and felf-denial in the ufe of it, otherwife it will defeat its own purpofe. Rhetoricians do ufually give it among the very precepts of the art, to appear to be in earneft, and to have the fubjeft or the intereit of the audience at heart, and not their own fame ; and this can nev-erbe attained to fo great perfection, as when there is the humility of a true dilcipl^
03
*5* LECTURES ON Le(5l. I.
and the difmterefled zeal of a faithful minifter of Chrill. That this is not contrary to the moft dili- gent application for the improvement of our powers, is manifefl in itfelf, and appears from the many- exhortations of the fame apoftle to his young dif- ciples, Timothy and Titus, i Tim. iv. 13. ** Till I come, give attendance," &.c. and ver. 15. " Me- ditate," &.C.
I know not whether any apology is neceflary foi' my undertaking to fpeak on this fubjed, or the manner of treating it. Some may expeft, that dif- tourles on eloquence flioukl be diftinguifhed exam- ples of the art of which they treat. Such may juft be pleafed to obferve, that a cool, plain, and fimple manner of fpeaking, is neceflary in teaching this, as wxU as every other art. No doubt, a juft- nefs and preciiion of expreflion, will be of great benefit in thefe difcourfes ;. but there will be no need of that high and complete polifh that might be expelled in what is prepared for publication. Nor would the fame brevity and concifenefs be any advantage to difcourfes once delivered, that would be reckoned a beauty in what is in every body*s hands, and therefore may be often read.
Before entering on the ftrift and methodical dif- cuflion of the fubjed, I have commonly begun the courfe by two or three preliminary difcourfes, coft- taining fuch general obfervations as may be moft intelligible, and may ferve to prepare the way for -what fhall be afterwards introduced.
The fubjeft of the iirlt preliminary difcourfc (ball be the following ^uellion ; Whether does ait
Le£l. I. ELO(itiEycE. 159
or nature contribute moll to the produ£lion of a complete orator?
This is a queftion often afked, and many things have been faid upon it ; yet, to difcufs it as a mat- ter of controverfy, and adduce the arguments on each fide, in order to a decifion in favour of the one, and prejudice of the other, I take to be of very little confequence, or rather improper and abfurd. It feems to be jull as if one ihould pro- pofe an inquiry, whether the foil, the climate, or the culture, contributes molt to the production of ihz crop ? Therefore, inftead of treating the que- ftion as if one fide of it were tnie, and the other falfe, I fhall make a few obfervations on the in- fluence of nature and art, in order to your forming jufl apprehenfions cf the fubje<51:, and to direft you in your future condudl and ftudies.
2 , Some degree of natural capacity is evidently neceflary to the inftruflion or ftudy of this art, in order to produce any effeft. A Ikilful labourer may fubdue a very ftubborn, or meliorate a very poor foil J but when there is no foil at all, as on a bare and folid rock, his labour would be impoffible or fruitlefs. There muil therefore, doubtlefs, be fome capacity, in general, and even fome turn for this very branch of knowledge. In this fenfe, it is true of every other art, as well as oratory, that a man mult be bom to it.
There are fome fo deftitute of oratorical powers^ that nothing can pofiibly be made of them. It will be ftrange, however, if this is not eafily dif- covered by themfelves, and if it does not make- the Itudy as unplsafant as it is difficult, fo Uiat thej
t6o LECTURES oy Lei^. I,
will fpeedilj give it over. I have known fome examples, but very few, of minifters, whofe prin- cipal deled was mere barrennefs of invention. This is exceedingly rare, becaufe tlie far greateft number of bad fpeakers have enough to fay, fuch as it is ; and generally the more abfurd and inco- herent, the greater the abundance.
When fpeaking on this obfervation, I muft make one remark, that a total want of capacity for one branch of fcience, is not inconfillent even with a great capacity for another. We fometimes fee great mathematicians who make miferable orators. Jsfay, it is reckoned by fome of the belt judges, that this fludy is unfriendly to oratory. The de- finite preciHon of methematical ideas, which may all be ultimately referred to menfuration, feems to be contrary to the freedom and boldnefs of imagi- nation, in which the ftrength of oratory Ijes. There are, however, exceptions to this, in fact. Dr Clark, and Dr Barrow, two of the moll eminent mathematicians of the laft age, were alfo eminent orators ; that is to fayj the firft was a very accurate writer, the wother a very fervent preacher.
I have only further to obferve, that many have thought academical teaching not to be favourable to oratory ; that is to fay, thofe who are ac- cuftomed to the cool difpaffionate manner of fpeak- hig, ufual and neceffary in the inftru<£lion of youth, frequently lofe a good deal of that fire and impe- tuofity which they might naturally poffefs, and which is of fo much importance in fpeaking to a large and promifcuous aflembly.
2. To make what is c<illed a complete orator,
Le(S. I. ELOQUENCE. l6l
very great natural powers are neceiTary, and great cultivation too. The truth is, when we fpeak of a complete orator, we generally form an idea of perfeftion fuperior to any thing that ever exifted, by aflembling together all the excellencies of every kind that have been feen in different perfons, oi that we are able from what we have feen to form an imagination of. We can eafily enumerate many of thefe ; for example, great penetration of mind,— great literature, and extenlive knowledge, — a ftrong and lively imagination, reined in by a correftnefs of judgement, a rich invention, and retentive me- mory, tendemefs and fenfibility of afFedion, an ac- quaintance with the world, and a thorough know- ledge of the human heart. To thefe we muft add all external perfections, an open countenance, 3 graceful carriage, a clear, articulate, ftrong melo- dious voice. There is not one of thefe but is ca- pable of great improvement, by application and ftudy, as well as by much praflice. In all the great orators of whom we read, there appears to have been an union of natural talents, and acquired ikill, as Pericles, Demollhenes, Cicero, Hortentius. To thefe you may add all the fpeakers mentioned by Cicero and (^uintilian, taking their talents and performances to have been as related by thefe au- thors.
3. Perhaps the mofl extraordinary appearances in this, as well as in other branches, have been £*om nature wholly, or but with little ftudy. Thefe fpontaneous productions are as fo many prodigies. It is commonly believed, that the orators and fage« at the SltH fcrmaticn of fociety, were more power-
l62 LECTURES ON? Left. I.
fill in their elocution, than in more poliflied times. This, however, I am apt to think, is in fome de- gree founded on a miftake. There might be more extraordinary efFe6ls of eloquence, becaufe the ig- norant or fuperftitious herd were then more eafilj moved ; but this was as much owing to the ftate of the audience, as the power of the fpeakers. The fame fire that would burn a heap of dry brufh, would not make any imprelTion upon a heap of green logs. It might alfo be owing to another cir- cumflance, which I ihall have occafion afterwards to explain more fully, the narrowueis of language, and the ufe of figures, which have fo great an effect open the imagination.
But, allowing very great force to uncultivated prodigies of genius in every kind, I am apt to think it is lefs powerftil, comparatively fpeaking, in oratory than in poetry. It has been an old fay. ing, Poeta nascitur ct noiifit. There are two rea- fons why the poetry of nature^ without art, feems to be much admired, i. That in fuch a poet, a ftrong imbounded fancy muft be the prevailing charafter ; and this is what chiefly captivates the mind.i It muft be a very ftrong inward impulfe that induces a man to become a poet without ex- ample, and without inftruftion. 2. It is found in fa£l, that the knowledge of the rules of art, fome- how cramps and deters the mind, and reftrains that boldnefs, or happy extravagance, that gives fuch general delight. It is an obfervation of an inge- nious author, that in no poiiftied nation, after the rules of criticifm were fully fettled, and generally underflood, v»-as tliere ever any great v/crk cf ge-
Le<3:. I. ELOQUENCE. i6j
nius produced. This, however, mufl be under* flood chkflj of what are called the higher fpecies of poetiy, epic poetj, and tragedy ; and, for the reafons juft now given, it muft be fo in them. Ho* mer is the great poet of nature ; and it is generally thought, that there is greater fire in him than in Virgil, juft becaufe he lived at a time when the rules of writing were unknown. The fame thing is faid of Shakefpeare, of our own country ; and perhaps the late-difcovered poems of OiHan may be confidered as another example. After all, per- haps the comparifon made between the effedls of nature and art, is at bottom wrong, and that they produce beauties of different kinds. A wild uncul- ^ tivated foreft, a vaft precipice, or fleep cataraft or water-fall, is fuppofed to be an objeG more au- guft and flriking, than any ornaments produced by human fkill. The order and fymmetry, however, of architecture and gardening, are highly pleafing, and ought not properly to be compared with the other, as pleafing the imagination in a different de- gree, fo much as in a different kind.
The effefls of the poetry of nature, therefore, in one view, are very great, and continue to be fo in all ages, becaufe they touch the foul in one way, which continues to be univerfally felt : but I doubt much whether eloquence ever arrived at much ex- cellence, without confiderable ftudy, or at leafl previous patterns on which to form. The firfl great poets were before all criticifm, and before even the polifhing of human manners ; but the firil g^eat orators appeared in improved, civilized flates^
1^4 LECTURES ON Left.
I.
and were the confequence of the knowledge of mankind, and the lludy of the human heart.
4. When perfons are meanly qualified in point of natural capacity for any art, it is not very proper to attempt to inftrud them in it. It is not only difficult to inflruft thofe who have a radical inca- pacity for any fludy, but fometimes they are much the worfe for application ; juft as fine clothes, and a courtly drefs upon a clown, renders him un- fpeakably ridiculous. Some who are utterly void of tafte for fpeaking, after long ftudy, and fome- times even by great literature, become more ob- fcure, more tedious, and more given to fwelling and bombaft, than the moll uncultivated perfon in the world. The want of a fund of good fenfe and genuine tafte, makes ignorant perfons fools, and fcholars pedants. A plain man will tell you of taking a purge, or a dole of phyfic, and you nei- ther miftake him, nor laugh at him. A quack of a phyfician will tell you of a mucilaginous decoc- tion, to fmooth the acid particles, and carry oiF the acrimonious matter that corrodes and irritates the internal coats of the ftomach.
5. In the middle regions of genius, there arc often to be found thofe who reap the greateil bene- fit from education and ftudy. They improve their power by exercife ; and it is furprifing to think what advances are to be made by the force of refo- lution and application. I might give you many ex- amples of this in the annals of literature ; but the one moft fuited to our purpofe is, that Demofthenes himfelf is faid at firft to have laboured under almoft infuperable difficulties : it is faid he could not even
Le^l. I. ELOQUENCE. 1 65
pronounce at firll all the letters of the Greek al- phabet, particularly the letter R, the firft letter of his art, as the critics have called it.
Perfons of the middle degrees of capacity, do alfo, perhaps generally, fill the moil ufeful and important ftations in human life. A verj great genius, is often like a very fine flower, to be won- dered at, but of little fervice either for food or me- dicine. A very great genius is alfo often accom- panied with certain irregularities, fo that we only confider with regret, what he might have been, if the lively fallies of his imagination had been reined in a little, and kept under the direction of fober judgement.
On the whole, you may plainly perceive what great encouragement there is for diligence in your lludies, and be perfuaded to attend to the inftruc- tions to be given you, on this fubjecl in panicular, with afliduity and care.
LECTURE II,
IN this, which, as the former, I confider as a pre- liminary difcourfe, I will endeavour, to give you fome general rules, which, as they belong equally to all forts of writing, would not ccme in fo properly under the divifions of the fubjedl.
I. Study and imitate the greatell examples. Get the mod approved authors for compofition, read them often, and with care. Imitation is what Vol. VII. P
l66 LECTURES ON Le£l. 2.
commonly give us our firft ides s. upon any fubje£l. It is by example that ambition is kindled, and youth prompted to excel. It is by remarks upon aftual productions, that criticifm itfelf is formed. Men were not firft taught by mafters to fpeak, either in oratory or poefy ; but they firft felt the impulfe, and did as they could, and their reflec- tion and obfervation, by making the comparifon, found out what was beft. And after the exiftence of precepts, it is by examples that precepts are made plain and intelligible. An acquaintance with authors, will alfo be the beft mean of determining what is your own turn and capacity, for you will probably moft relifti thofe writers, and that man- ner, that you are beft able to imitate.
For this purpofe, let the beft authors be chofen, ^ncient and modern, A controverfy has often rifen among critics and men of letters, upon the prefe- rence being due to ancient or modern writers. This queftion was debated, ex pTofesso, in the laft age, and feme very great men engaged in it. The fa- mous M. Fenelon, Archbiftiop of Cambray, has written a treatife upon it, called, The Wars of the Poets ; and Dean Swift wrote his account of the Battle of the Books in St James's Library, on the fame fubjedl:. I reckon it is wrong to be opiniona- tive in fuch a controverfy, and very eafy to pufti it to excefs on both fides. No doubt, the few re- mains of remote antiquity have furvived the wrecks of time, in a ?reat meafure bv their excellence itfelf, and therefore will always be confidercd as ftandards. And as they are chiefly works of ima- gination that have been fo prefer^^ed, and true tafte
Lect. 2. ELOQUENCE. 167
is the fame in all ages7 thej muft deferve real e- fteem ; and this will be fo me what augmented, by the veneration felt for their antiquity itfelf. Ho- mer is the firft and great pattern of writing, to whom the higheft commendations have been given in every age. Horace fays, Vos exemplaria Greca (meaning chieily Homer) nocturna versate inanu^ versate diurtia ; and Mr Pope fays,
*' Be Homer's works your ftudy and delight, " Read him by day, and meditate by night."
Now, the beauties of Homer we are eafily ca- pable of perceiving, though, perhaps, not his faults.- The beauty of a defcription, the force of a fimili- tude, we can plainly fee ; but, whether he always adhered to truth and nature, we cannot tell, be- caufe we have no other way of knowing the man- ners and cuftoms of his times, but from what he has written. '
The powers of mankind, however, are certainly the fame in all ages, but change of circumftances may create diveriity in the appearance and produc- tion of genius. Thefe circumftances tend to pro- duce excellence of different kinds. The boldnefs, and almoft exceffive flights of imagination in un- cultivated times, give way to beauties of a different nature, to order, judgement, and precifion. A mafterly judgement will endeavour to underftand the reafons on both fides. It is certain, however, that there are great and excellent patterns to form upon, both ancient and modern. And it is very P2
i68 lECTURES ON Le(5i:. 2.
proper for young perfons to read authors, after they liave heard critcifms and remarks made upon them. Thefe criticifms you may take at firft either from books or converfation. Try if you can obferve the genius, or peculiar and charafteriftic turn of an author, not only his excellencies, but wherein they are peculiar to him, and different from thofe of others. Cicero is flowing, fervent, ornate — fome- what vain and oftentatious, but mafterly in his way. Demoflhenes is fimple, clofe, nervous, ra- pid, and irrefiilible. Livy has a bewitching knack of telling a ftory ; he is fo expreffive and defcrip- tive, that one cannot help being pleafed with it, even after feveral times reading.
Salluft excels in giving chara£lers, which he flrikes off in fingle epithets, or very concife re- marks. Tacitus is chiefly remarkable for judicious and fagacious obfervations on human life ; and Xenophon is fuperior to almofl: every author, in dignity, elegance, and fweetnefs in the narration,
Of modern authors in our own language, Mr Addifon is a noble pattern of elegance, dignity, and flmplicity. Swift, in his political pieces, WTites vv'ith great ftrength and force, and is perhaps a pat- tern of ftyle, which has fcarcely been exceeded ilnce his time. Hervey, in his Meditations, has a rreat deal of very lively and animated defcription ; but it is fo highly ornamented, that it is fomewhat da igerous in the imitation. Dr Robertfon, in his Hillory, has as jufl a mixture of ftrength and ele- gance, as any other author I know^ in the Engliih language. I cannot help here cautioning you agaiiift one modern author of fome eminence, John-
Left. 2. ELOQUENCE. l6^
fon, the author of the Rambler. He is fo ilifF and abilradled in his manner, and fuch a lover of hard words, that he is the woril pattern for young per- fons that can be named.
It has been given fometimes as a rule, to form one's felf upon a particular author, who may be moft agreeable to a {Indent's tafte, and perhaps congenial (if I may fpeak fo) to his capacity. It is pretty common to fall into this without defign, by a natural propeniity. It is faid, that Demoft- henes wrote over the hiilory of Thucydides eight times, that he might the more effectually form him- felf to his flyle and manner. I cannot fay I would reconmiend this, it feems to be too much honour to give to any one perfon. I would not be guilty of idolatry of any kind, A comprehenfive know- ledge of many authors, or at leafl a confiderablc number of the bell, is certainly far preferable. If there be any advantage in particular imitation, it is, that it is the eafieft way of coming to a fixed or formed llyle. One will foon run into an imitatioa of an author with whom he is much converfant^ and of whom he is a great admirer ; and, in this view, to fome perfons of moderate capacitv, it may not be an improper method. But perfons of real and original genius, fhould be rather above fuch a practice, as it will certainly make them fall fliort of what they would otherwile attain.
To this we may add, that particular imitatior i»
liable to feveral very great dangers, (i.) It leuus
to fervility of imitation. Such perfons often n.ay
be faid to borrow the piece, inilead of imitaimg
P3
170 LECTURES ON Le£l. 2.
iLc pattern. When a fervile imitation is perceived, which it always will be, it is certain to be def- pifed. Even a manner ever fo excellent, if merely ^ ^^PYi brings no credit to a fpeaker. And if a writer retail the verj fentiments and language of another, it is conlidered as an abfurdity. (2.) Ser- vile imitation leads to copying defeds. There nei- ther is, nor ever was, any fpeaker or writer free from defe6ls, or blemifhes of fome kind. Yet, fervib imitators never fail to copy the defects as ■well as beauties. I fliould fuppofe, that any one who made Cicero his particular model, would very probably transfiife a proportion of his vanity and oilentation, and probably more of that than of his fire.
But of all forts of imitation, the moft dangerous is the imitation of living fpeakers, and yet to this young fcholars are moft prone, fometimes by de- f^gn, and fometimes quite infcnfibly. It is attended in the higheft degree with the difadvantage of co- pying defecls. In living fpeakers, there are not only peculiarities of ftyle, and blemifhes in com- pofition, to copy, but in looks, tone, and gefture. It is a matter of conftant experience, that imitators catch the blemifhes eaiieft, and retain them longeft. And it is to be obferved, that defefts, when they are natural and undefigned, appear very inconfider- sble ; but, when they are copied, and adopted vo- ^ntarily, we cannot help defpifing the folly and nbfurdity of one that judges fo ill. Further, when defeds are occaiional and undefigned, they are ge- jierally inconliderable ; but when they are copied, they are commonly aggra-vated and overcharged,
Lect. 2. ZLO^.rE:rcE. 171
and fo appear quite monflrous. This mud be fo; for even the very befl manner looks iillj in the imitator, although jull and gracefal in the origi- nal.
2. An excellent general rule is, to accuflom your- felves earlj and much to compofition, and exer- cife in pronunciation. Practice is necelTary in' order to leani any thing to perfection. There is fomething to be learned from prafllce^ which no inilruvlion can impart. It is fo in everj other art as Vv-ell as this — mathematics, geometry, and in navigation j after you have learned the theory in the moil perfect manner, there is ftill a Hamelefs fomething, which nothing but experience can beftow. You muil not vrait till you are ir.a- flers of the rules of art, before you begin to put them in praflice. Exercife mufl go hand in hand v/ith inflru<5lion, that the one may give meaning, force, and direftion to the other. I do not mean that you fliould be fond of entering very foon upon real life, but that you fnould be afTiduous in prepara- tory exercifes. This is a rule given by Cicero, in liis book De Oratore^ w-hich he reckons of great importance — Scrihcndum quam phrimum ; and he declares it to liave been his own practice.
Since we are upon private exercifes of compofi- tion, it may perhaps give you a clearer view of the matter, to mention fome of the various ways in which it may be feparately tried. It may be tried in tranflation ; perhaps it may be belt to try- it lirft here. Tranflation will accuftom you to at- tend to the various idioms of language, and to aadeiitand the genius of your own language : for.
172 LECTURES ON Le(^. 2.
when tranflating, jou will fpeedily find, that to ren- der out of any one language into another ad 'uer" bum, would be very ferry compofition. It may be tried alto in narration. This, I think, Ihould be the next ftep to tranflation, to learn to give a naked account of fa£ls with fimplicity and preci- fion. This, alfo, though certainly in itfelf more obvious, and eafier than fome other kinds, yet it is by no means fo eafy as fome imagine. Imita- tion of a particular palTage, or compoiition of fome author, by writing upon fomething quite iimilar^ may perhaps be the next in order. To under- ftand what this is, you need only look into an ad- mirable example of it in poetry, Mr Pope's imita- tion of a fatire in Horace, beginning, ^ice vh'tus et quanta, &c. After this comes defcription, paint- ing fcenes, or drawing characters. Then argu- mentation : And, lailly, perfuafion, I believe it would be a great improvement of the laudable praftice in this college of daily orations, if they were chofen with more judgement, and better fuit- ed to the performers. Almofl all the pieces we have delivered to us, are of the laiT; or higheft kind, warm pafTionate ^declamations. It is no wonder that fome Ihguld perform thefe ill, who have never tried the plainer manner of fimple nar- ration. Suppoling a Undent to have tried all thefe ways of compofition for his own improvement, would he not be by that means fenfible in what way he is moft able to excel ? as alfo having made trial of them feparately, he is more able to vary his di«Sl:ion, and give compafs to his difcourfe upon a general fubjedl. Thefe are like an analy*
Lecl. 2. ELOQUENCE. 173
fis, or limple divifion of composition ; and as per- fons read beft, who have been firfl taught to re- folve words into fyllables, and fjllables into let- ters, fo the eafieft and completeft way of any to compofition, is to begin it in this order.
In fuch exercifes, let me by all means recom- mend to you, early to acquire^ and always to pre- ferve, a certain patience and refolution of mind, which will enable you to apply with vigour, not only for a time, but to review and corredl your pieces, and bring them to fome degree of perfec- tion, and your tafte to fome degree of accuracy. To explain this a little, there are three things equally contrary to it, and perhaps equally preju- dicial, (i.) Mere weaknefs, and want of courage, which finding one attempt unfuccefsful, will hardly be brought to make another. When a ycung per- fon firft goes to exercife himfelf in compofition, he finds the thing fo uncouth and difficult, that he is apt to confider it as altogether impolfible. (a.) There is a fault contrary to this, a vanity of mind, which is fo pleafed with any thing it does, as nei- ther to fee its own faults, nor be willing to hear them. There are fome, who, from the beginning of life, think it a great pity that any of iheir pro- ductions fhould be blotted or crafcd. It is net to be fuppofed, that they will make great progrefs in knowledge or tafte. (3.) There is another fort, perhaps diftinft from both, v. ho are of a locfe, de- fultory difpofition, fo unftayed, that they cannot fpend long enough time upon any thing to do it well, or fometimes even to bring it to a conclu- fion. They Vv'ill begin an efiay upon a fubjeft,
174 LECTURES OK Le6t. 2.
but are prefently out of conceit with it, and there- fore will do it very carelefsly, or before it is finifh- ed muft away to. another, which flruck their fan- cy more lately.
That fteady application which I have recom- ' mended, fome of the ancients were very remarkable for. Some of them indeed feemed to carry it to an excefs. They would fometimes fpend as much time in polifhing an epigram, or little trifling pane- gyric, as might have been fuflicient for the produc- tion of a work of extenfive utility. However, this is not the moft common error ; running over a great deal in a fuperficial way, is the bane of com- pofition. Horace, with his ufual elegance, ridi- cules this difpofition, when he fays, Detur nohis lo- tus, &.C. ; and fomewhere elfe, he brings in a vain- glorious poet, boafting how many verfes he had Hiade, or could make, while Handing upon one foot.
LECTURE III.
IN this difcourfe, I intend to finifli what I began ii the laft, viz. laying down fome general rules to form the tafte, and dired the condud of a ftudent.
3. Be careful to acquaint yourfelves well, and to be as perfeft as poflible, in the branches that are fubordinate to the ftudy of eloquence. Thefe, be- caufe they ought to be learned in the earlieft ftages, if they are then neglefted, fome are unwilling or
Le5:. 3' ELOQUENCE. 175
afhamed to go back to them. What I have here in view chiefly, are the grammar, orthograpy, and punftuation of the Englifh language. It is not uncommon to find orators of confiderable name, both in the pulpit and at the bar, far from being accurate in point of grammar. This is e\4dentlj a very great blemilh. Perhaps it may be occafion- ed, in fome meafure, by the Englifli feldom or never being taught grammatically to children. But thofe who have learned the principles of grammar, in the Greek and Latin languages, fliould be more ready to attend to it. I am fenlible, that the grammar of every langage is ul- timately fixed by cuftom ; with regard to which, Horace fays, ^uem penes arbitrium est, &:c. But even here, we muft attend to the meaning of the fentiment. It is not the cuftom of the \Til2:ar that eftablilLes either the grammar or pronunciation of any language, but that which is received and efta- bliflied by the beft writers. You will fay, Kow do thefe writers determine themfelves ? Are not they alfo guided by practice ? They are in a great meafure ; and it is generally faid, that the practice of the capital of a nation, or of the court in that capital, fettles the grammar. This muft in fub- ftance be agreed to, yet judgement and analogy will frequently fuggeft improvements, and intro- duce a good, or abolifti an ill cuftom. You muft not fuppofe, that all the phrafes of the \'Tilgar in London, are therefore agreeable to the grammar of the Englifti, or even that at court all the nobi- lity, male and female, fpeak with perfeft proprie- ty. It is in the laft refort, the men of literature.
17^ LECTURES ON Le£l. 3.
particularly the authors, who, taking cullom as a .general rule, give it all the direction they can, by their reafoning and example.
To make you underftand this by fome inftances, jou Jee Mr Addlfon, Dean Swift, and Mr Pope, have endeavoured to attend to the genius of the Englifti language, to Ihew where it was harfh and unpoliflied, and where improprieties might be cor- refted ; and they have fucceeded in a great mea- fure. It was obferved by all thofe great men, that the Engliih, and all the northern languages, are harfh, by the numbers of confonants meeting with- out intervening vowels ; therefore, that it is a great barbariim to ilrike out the vowels that we have, as in thefe words, don't, can't, didn't, wouldn't, fliouldn't, rebuk'd, drudg'd, fledg'd. Several oF thefe words may yet be lieard in fome places, and I have even feen them in print in America ; but no good fpeaker or tolerable writer would ufe them in Great Britain. I give another example when the fenfe and analogy of the words fugged s the im- provement. Averfe and averfion, were often for- merly ufed with to or at ; he is very averfe to it ; he has a great averfion at it. But, as averfe pro- perly figniiies turned away, it feems an evident im- provement to fay, averfe from. What I mean by this obfervation, is to turn your attention to fuch remarks, when you meet with them in reading or converfation.
I will make an obfervation or two more. It is of fome importance to attend to the ufe of words nearly related, or in fome degree fynonymous. It is not uncommon to hear people fay, a man is incident to
Lea. 3. ELOQUENCE. 177
fuch and facli a thing ; the evil" is incident to the perfon, the perfon liable to the evil, or fubjed to it ; this may be feen by the original meaning of the word, of Latin derivation, and figniiies, to fall upon. The word notify is often ufed v^Tong, par- ticularly in America ; they fpeak of notifying the pu- blic, that is to fay, making known the public; inilead of this, we ihould fay, notify any thing (or make it known) to the public. You advertife a perfon, or inform him of a thing, — acquaint him with it. The verb consist, in Englilh, has two diilinft meanings, and two conftruclions ; when it figniiies to agree or correfpond, it is joined to icith. It confifts iinth my knowledge. When it fignifies to compofe or make up a total, it is conftru6ted either with i;i or 0/'/ as, his eilate confifts ofxir in houfes, lands, &.C. This and that, and these and those, vrhen together in a fentence, are ufed with diftindlion ; this and these for the neareft, and that and those, for'" the moft remote antecedent ; but otherwife, these and those are ufed indifcriminately, but those more frequently; ^s, those authors uho are of different opi^ mons.
In ^11 matters doubtful, you ought to obfer%'e how the current of good authors go. So far as I have been able to obferve, colleclive words in Englifli are indifferently conftiiicted, either with a verb lin- gular or plural, as number, multitude, partr— a great number were prefent, or was prefent ; though I fhould prefer the laft
As to orthography, it is of the utmoft moment ; not but that a man may be fuppoied to fpeak, though he cannot fpell ; but becaufe a public fpeaker
Vol. Vll. O
J 7^ LECTURES ON Led. 3.
muft be always in fome degree converfant in pub- lic life, and then bad fpelling is exceedingly re- proachful. It is not only neceflary to underftand, in all ordinary cafes, the orthography of our own language, but a fcholar and critic, I think,, fhould be able to obferve the variations that have been made in fpelling from time to time. Between thir- ty and forty years ago, an attempt was made to alter the fpelling of the Englifli language very confider- ably, by bringing it nearer to the way of pronounc- ing ; but it did not fuccced, being oppofed by fome of the greateil eminence, as likely to deftroy or hide the etymology of words. There have fome fmall alterations obtained a good deal in my remem- brance, fuch as taking away the final k in public, €ccleiiaflic, &c. There is alfo jult now an attempt making to change the fpelling of feveral words. I have feen an example of it in a very late edition of Middleton's Life of Cicero ; fuch as, revele, repete, explane — honor, favor, candor, &:c. This feems upon the principle of bringing words nearer to their Latin derivation.
Puncluatlon is a thing that a fcholar fhould ftrive to underftand a little ; though there are few gen- tlemen or fcholars who ufe it much, either in let- ters or in their compolition. The reafon of this is, that it is looked upon as too formal, and unne- ceflary to ufe it in writing letters, except a full Hop. It is always the beft language that has leafl need of points to be underflood. Points are, I be- lieve, a modern invention, fubfequent to the in- vention of printing ; very ufeful, however, in Reaching young perfons to read with proper paufes. Another reafon why points are little ufed in pri-
Lecl. 3. teLOQUENCE. 179
vate writing, is," that fuch papers as are fent to the prefs, (in Britain), do not need them, the printers themfelves underftanding that matter at leaft as well, if not better, than any writer.
4. It is a good rule, to obferve early, and fludy to guard ^gainft fome of the moft remarkable ble- mifhes hi writing and fpeaking, which are fallen into by defign or accident, and continued by habit. It is not difficult for anv perfon, as foon as he be- gins to obferve and reflecV, to difcover thefe in others ; and as he will perceive the abfurditj clear- ly in them, let him be very careful to find out whether there is not fometliing of the fame kind in himfelf. That you may underftand what I mean, I will mention fome particulars.
I. Peculiar phrases. — Such as have nothing in them but what is juft, and decent, and proper, when ufed once, or now and then ; but when a fpeaker falls fo into any of them, that the practice is known for his own, and he is known by it, they become unfpeakably ridiculous. It is very difficult to avoid fomething of this kind ; there are few, if any, bat in common difcourfe ufe fome phrafes more thant others. A cautious perfcn, as foon as he perceives a habit of uling any one coming upon him, will en- deavour to alter or avoid it. Even the greateft men are not wholly free from th^. defecl. It is obfer- ved of Cicero, that esse videatur occurs in almoll. every three or four fentences, be the fubje6l whai it will. I knew a preacher that uftd the word sedate, fo very frequently, that he was called ge- nerally where he was known, by the name of tlic Q 2
^8o LECTURES 01^ Le^, 3.
le^kte preacher. I fay the fame thing of particular motions and geflures, which if they be in any degree out of the way, are a great blemifli in a fpeaker : both the one and the other of thefe are commonly 2t firfl: taken up as graces, and retained fo long in that view, that they acquire an irrefiilible power from habit.
2. Another blemifh of this kind, is ufing impro- per epithets. This is very common : fome, efpe- cially young perfons, are apt to think a difcourfe lean and poor, unlefs there be a great number of epithets -, and as they will let no fubflantive go without an adjeflive, it is a great chance that fome of them are improper: they cannot fay the Iky, without the azure iliy, or the lofty fky, or the wide expanded Iky ; and though all thefe epithets may belong to the fky, they may not be equally proper in the place where they are intro- duced. A certain gentleman, of no mean rank in Great Britain, in drawling an addrefs from a bo- rouph to his Majefly, on the peace, told him, that tl^e terror of his arms had fpread to the moil dif- tant parts of the terraqtieoiis globe. Now, though it be certainly true that the globe is terraqueous, it was exceedingly ridiculous to tell the king fo ; it looked as if his Majcily were a boy, and the bo- rough-magiflrates were teaching him : or they theuifelves W'cre boys, who had juft learned the firft lefTon in geography, that the globe confifts of land and water, and therefore were defirous of let- ting it be known that they were fo far advanced.
3. Another vifiblc blemilh is, a multitude of unncccfn^ry v/crds of any kind, particularly the
Le£l. 3. ELOQJJENCE. 181
vain repetition of fynonymous pbrafes. Some do not think their fentences full and round enough, without a number of thefe phrafes. But though it be true, that there is a fulnefs of a fenteace, anvl*. the claufes of a fentence, which is neceiTarj to pleafe :iie ear, yet it is but an ill way to make up the fbape with what is without fenfe or force. The moil common of this kind are the double epithets, which men are led. into bj the introduction of words deiived from the Latin or Greek, into I he Engliih language. Thefe words difTering in I'ound, are often coupled together, as if diiTerent in meaning aKo — As happinefs, and felicity, — fhii-. tion and enjoyment, — greatnefs and magnificence, -^eafe an J facility — way and manner, — 'end and concluiion, — fmall and minute, — boimtiful and li- beral, &c. Sometimes, from your lofiy fpeakers^ we hear a whole firing of ^vords, of fo little dif- ference in meaning, that it is almofl: impolHble to perceive it. Thus I have lately heard, " Thi$ grand, capital, important, and fundamental truth ;'* — all proper epithets ; and though any one of them would have made the dilcourfe nen-ous, as well as juft, by the addition of them all it becomes fwell- ed and filly *.
* list 0/ Synonymous Terms fre^u€i:tly to he m<t luith.
Speakers and writers, Worth and value,
Tvlotives and arguments, Lafiing and abiding.
Benefit and ad'vantage, Command and order,
Small ahd minute, Order ar^d appoint, ^3
l82 LECTURES ON Le6l. 3.
4. VulgarLfms. I have "been furprifed to fee fome perfons of education and chara£ler, introduce the mere vulgarifms of difcourfe in the pulpit, or at the bar ; fuch as, I an't, I can't, I Ihan't. An author, who entitles his book Lexiphanes, and has very fuccefsfully expofed Johnfon's long and hard words, let flip a vulgarifm into his own difcourfe, for which he was feverely handled by the review- ers. Between you and I. J there is a governed cafe ; and if it were to be ufed, it fliould be, Be-
Bountiful and liberal, Right and title, Order and method, Sharp and acute. Pain and anguilh, Moment and importance, Delight and fatisfaclion, Joy and pleafure, Profit and advantage, Refolution and purpofe, Juftice and equity, Truth and fmeerity, •Wealth and riches, Penury and want, Odious and hateful, Poor and indigent, Order and regularity. Rules and Regulations, Caufes and Reafons, Ufeful and profitable, Amiable and lovely, "Wife and prudent,
Sin and guilt, Chearfulnefs and alacrity, Greatnefs and magnificence Joy and delight. Fruition and enjoyment, Juft and righteous, End and dtilgu, Open and explain. Lading and durable. Clear and manifeft, Marks and figns. Plain and perfpicuous, Eafe and facility, End and conclufion, A final iiTue, Motives and reafons, Diminifhed and leflened. Excellence and perfe^licn-. Benevolence and good-will, Dcmonilrate and prove, Cover and conceal, Eoolifh and unwife,
Left. 3. ELOQUENCE. iSj
tween you and me. But the truth is, the phrafe is altogether a vulgarifm, and therefore not to be ufed, except in particular circumftances, defcribing familiar chat. There are alfo certain cant phrafes which come into repute and ufe in the courfe and the cihanges of fafhion.
Thefe have been fufficiently expofed by Swift and Addifon, and therefore 1 fliall fay nothing at all further on them, at prefent, as an opportunity will afterwards occur of mentioning them to advan- tage.
5. The fifth and lad general rule I fhall jud mention, is, to follow nature. This is a rule often given, and greatly inliiled on by the ancients. Every body has heard of it, nay, fometimes thofe who have not heard of it will fpeak as if they had, and fay, " This was quite natural — This was al- together unnatural." But it is fomewhat difficult to underfland. Nature feems in this rule to be oppofed to art. Is f^/llowing nature, then, to do as untaught perfons generally do ? Will the mofl ignorant perfons make the moft plain and the bell conne6ted difcourfe ? Will they tell a ftory with
^erms and Phrasss to he noted for remarks.
Happifying, — fufceptive, — fellow-countryman,— fell- cites, — to be found in the Monitor.
" Unfexed thy mind," in a Poem.
" Senfibilities," Aikin's Magazine, Ocl. vol. i. 468, 469.
" Thefe commendations will not, I am perfuaded> make you vain and coxcomicaJy Knickknackically, firaplify, domefticate, pultpitically.
^§4 LECTURfeS ON Le^. ^
the moft genuine fimplicity, and at tlie fame time xvith perfpicuity ? We find it is quite otherwife. Perhaps it would be be ft to fay, it is following truth, or following that wliich is eafiefl and plaineli, and probably would be followed by all, but for affec- tation.
On this fubjeft I can think of nothing fo good as to fay, Realize and fuppofe you faw the thing you would defcribe, and put j^ourfelf in the very ftate of him v»^hofe fentiments you would fpeak. Clear conceptions make diflind expreffions, and reality is a great afliftant to invention. If you were bid to iludy a fubjeft abflraclly, it would be with great difEciTlty that things proper and fuitable to it would come into your mind. But if you yourfelf were in the fituation that is to be fuppo- fed, the fentiments pertinent to it would crowd upon you immediately. Let me try to make this fami- liar by an example : Suppofe I were to aik any of you juft now, what are the circumftances that ag- gravate fm, or make it more heinous, and deferving of fevere punifliment ? It is highly probable he would either be at a lofs altogether, or at leall would omit many of them. But if any of you had received an injury from another, in explaining of it, he would not fail to come over them every one. He would fay it was unprovoked. — If he had done him fervice, he would not fail to upbraid him with it, and nothing would be forgotten between the-, two that could aggravate the crime.
Supposing the reality of every thing, alfo, ferves particularly to deliver a fpeaker from affecled or- naments, and every thing in language or carriage
Le(Jl. 3. ELOQUENCE. 18^
that is improper : If you were pleading the caufc of one accufed of a capital crime, it would be beii to fuppofe that you yourfelf were the a<:cufed per- fon, ai?d that you were fpeaking for your own life. This would give an earneftnefs of fpirit, and a juft- nefs and corre^lnefs to the manner, infinitely dif- tant from that theatrical pomp, which is fo pro- perly faid to be a departure from the limplicity o£ nature.
LECTURE IV.
HAVING given you fome preliminary difcour- fes on fuch points as I thought would ferve to prepare you for what might be afterwards faid, I proceed to' treat the fubjecl more methodicallyv and more fully. There are various ways of di- viding the fubjed, which yet may each of them be faid to take in the whole, in one way or other. Several of thefe muft be combined together j as it is not fuilicient to view a building only from one ftation. If you would underfland it thoroughly, you mull view it from different Rations, and even take it in profile, and leani not only its outward appearance, but its inward llruciure. The me- thod I have refolved to follow, and w^hich feems to me as complete as any I could fall upon, is this —
I. To treat of language in general, its ouali.
•l86 LECTURES ON LciH:. 4.
ties, and pcwers— eloquent fpeech — and its hiftory ^nd pradlices as an art.
II. To coniider oratory as divided into its three great kinds, the fublime — fimple — and mixed,-^ their characters — their diilinftions — ^their beauties —and their ufes.
III. To confider it as divided into its conftituent parts — invention — difpolition — ftjle— pronunciation — and gefture.
IV. To confider it as its objecl is different — in- formation— demonilration — perfuafion — entertain- ment.
V. As its fubjed is different — the pulpit — the bar — and the fenate, or any deliberate affembly.
VI. To confider the flrufture and parts of a par- .ticular difcourfe, — their order,— *cbnne6lioti—pi*6-
portion — and ends.
VIL Recapitulation, and an inquiry into the principles of tafte, or of beauty and gracefulnefs, -as applicable not only to oratory, but to all ihc other (commonly called) fine arts.
In the firfl place, then, I am to tr&at of language jn genera] — its qualities and powers — eloquent ipeech — and its hiftory and pra<Elice as an art.
Language is what in a great meafure diftinguifhes man from the inferior creatures. Not but that al- moft all animals have certain founds by which they can communicate fomething to one another. But thefe founds are evidently only fimple, and fomeiimes fmgle exertions, differing in one crea- ture from another, according to the different con- formation of their organs. Articulate fpeech has a
Le£l. 4. ELOQUENCE. 187
far greater compafs, and is able to exprefs a vaft multitude of complex, as well as fimple ideas ; perhaps we may even faj, that articulate fpeech is little lefs extenfive than thought itfelf, there being hardly any idea that can be formed but it may be exprefled, and by that means communi- cated. In this there is a wide and uianifeft diilinc- tion between the rational and irrational creatures.
Articulate language is intended to communicate our fentiments one to another. This may be con- fldered as fully explained, by faying it includes in- formation and perfuafion. A conception in my mind, when • fpoken, its excellence confifts in ma- king another perceive what I perceive, and feel towards it as I feel. They may be afterwards am- pliiied and extended ; but thefe two particulars fhew the true original purpofe of fpeech. Eloquence is commonly called the art of perfuafion, but the other muft he taken in. We nrnft inform, before we can perfuade ; or if there be any fuch thing as perfuafion without information, it is only a blind impulfe.
Articulate fpeech is reprefenting our ideas by arbitrary founds ; that is to fay, there is no real or natural conne(Sion between the found and figni- fication, but what is the effeft of compact and ufe. In this, articulate fpeech is diflinguiihed from figns or natural founds, as alphabetical writing (of which more aftei\vards) is diflinguilhed from hie- roglyphical. Natural founds may lignify joy, fear, anger ; but language, in general, has no fuch natural conneclion ^vith its meaning. The words sun and ?720Qp might have had different noeanings, ,
xSS LECTUx^Es o>r Lecl. 4.
snd ferved the fame purpofe. The word heith in Hebrew, oikos in Greek, domus in Latin, maison in French, and house in Englifli, though all of them different, are equally proper for fignifying the fame thing, when once they ate fixed by the cuftom of the feveral nations. Some have attempted to re- duce the original words of a fuppofed original lan- guage, and even the letters of the alphabet, to a natural refemblance of the things to be fignified ; but their attempts have been fruitlefs, and ridicu- lous. It was in ancient times a pretty general ima- gination, that there was- a certain language that was original and natural to man ; that this was the firft language in ufe ; and that if men were not taught another language by example, they would all fpeak this language. But experience, after trial had been made by feveral curious perfons, fhowed this imagination to be vain ; for thofe who were brought up without any communication with men, were always dumb, and fpoke none at all, except fometimes imitating the natural founds of fome beafts or birds, which they might occafional- ly hear, Herodotus's ftory is either a fable, or it proves nothing, of a king of Egypt having two children nouriilied by goats, and pronouncing the word Bee, or Beecos, which, they faid, fignified bread in the Phrygian language. This was a thing merely accidental, if true ; yet, at any rate, of very doubtful authority.
The words in articulate fpeech, therefore, are arbitrary; nor is there any poflibility of thfeir being otherwife, for words are only founds ; and though it is poflible in fome few particulars to fix upon
Led. 4. ELOQUENCE. 1B9
words with a natural relation ; as for example, perhaps the names of animals might fometimes be given them, with lome refemblance of found to the natural founds which thefe animals utter ; vet even this w^ith difadvantages, as anj bcdj maj perceive, bj trying to make a word that fliall re- femble the neighing of a horfe, the lowing of a bull, &c. But as to all inanimate viJible objeds, it is impoffible to reprefent them by found ; light and found, the eye and the ear, being totally diffe-- rent in kind. I can recolledl nothing that makes any dilRculty in this matter, unlefs that fome may fay. How then do you find place for that particu- lar beauty of poetry, and other defcriptions, in making the found an echo to the fenfe ? But this is eafily refolved. In fome cafes, the paflions give a modulation to foimd ; and in the quantity of the iyllables, and eafe or difficulty of pronouncing ihem, there may be a refemblance to llownefs and labour, or their oppoiites, or both : As in the fa- mous paflage of Homer, Ton men Tissiphon ; or, iu Mr Pope, who exemplifies the rule in gi^Tug it.
*' 'Tis not enough, no harfhnefs gives offence," &c.
If words are arbitrary, it ^may be aiked, ho've language came firfl into ufe ? in which the opi- nions are \^rious, but the controverfy is not of any great moment. Some think it was in the fame way as other creatures exert their natural powers, ihat man by practice gradually came to the ufe of fpeech, and fettled the meaning of words by cuf- lom. Others think that this would either never have happened, or have taken a very long tijne.
Vol. VJI. r
19^ LECTURES ovf Lecl. 4.
and fuppofe that tlieir Maker taught them at leaft fome degree of practice, which fliould open the way to a more extenfive ufe of the facuhj. And the confideration, that founds in language are arbi- trary, in fome degree favours this fuppofition, be- caufe it may be obferved, that as mankind are ca- pable by inftruftion of the greateft and • moll mul- tifarious improvement, fo without iiiilruftion they are capable of doing leaft. A human infant, when firft brought forth, is more helplefs, and longer helplefs, than other animal that we know. It does not feem to be of much importance to form a de- terminate opinion of this queftion. It occurs in the very fame way again, and may be reafoned upon the fame principles, whether alphabetical wri- ting was an invention and difcovery of man, or re- vealed by God. Thofe who hold the laft opinion obferve, that hieroglyphic writing, or writing by figns or pictures, was before alphabetical ; and that the improvement of hieroglyphics does not lead to, but from alphabetical writing : That the one coniiils of natural emblems, and vifible figns of fentiments, and the other of arbitrary or artificial figns for fimple founds ; fo that the more complex you make the hieroglyphic, you differ the more from the alpha- bet. It feems probable, that this, and indeed the radical principles of all great difcoveries, were brought out by accident, that is to fay, by Provi- dence : therefore it is probable, that God gave to our firll parents, who were found in a Hate of full growth, aU the inftrudion neceflary for proceeding upon, and exercifing the faculty of fpeech, the kngth that w^as necefifary for the purpofes of hu-
LcSi, 4. EL0QJ7ENCX. 19!
man life. It is alfo probable, from the analogy of providence, that he left as much to the exercife of the human powers, as convenience and application could convenient! J fuppl j.
I will not enter much into the formation and conflniction of language in general. It is formed bj a certain number of f.mple founds, which, whea varioufl J combined, produce that variety- of words, "U'hicli, though certainly not ftri£lly infinite, jet have been hitherto inexhauHed bj all ihct langujiges in the world. The letters are di-^dded into vowels andi confonants, the fiift having a found of themfelves, and the other only giving a fort of modification to that found. Some great philologifls are of opinion, that in the Hebrew, and feveral other ancient lan- guages, their whole letters are coiiiona^/s, tending to mark the different conngurations of the organs of found at the beginning of- pronunciation, and the vowels are the founds themfelves, which they fay men were taught to adopt by habit, firft in fpeaking, and then in writing, and afterwards were diftinguiflied by marks or figns, for the fake of readers. Hence the controverfy about the Hebrew points, and indeed reading the dead languages in general, which is attended with great uncertaintv, particularly from ,the following circumftances. Vowels have in general been but five or fix in number, which ihould exprefs all the fimple founds, and yet they do not ; and perhaps there is not a language in which there is greater confufion in this" matter, than our own, which m.akes the Englifli fo exceedingly difficult for a foreigner to attain. Several R 2
19^ LECTURES ON Le£l:. zj.
Engliih vowels have three or four dlfFerent founds ; and, as Sheridan fays, fome of them the length of five ; / has three in one word, viz. infinite, Thefe things not being ncceflary to my main pur- pofe, I only point at themv/ithout enlarging.
It is plain, that in whatever manner languages were fiiil formed, we can eafily fee that they came ilowly and by degrees to perfection. An eminent French author. Father Lamy, fays, the Hebrew language was perfect in its original ; but he ad- vances no proof of this, but fhowing indeed by very juft hiilorical remarks and criticifms, that the He- brew was anterior in point of time to the Greek ; and thA.t in writing, the letters were taken from ihe Hebrew, and employed in the Greek. Hiflo- ry fays, that Cadmus was a Phenician, and he has generally among the Greeks the honour of introdu- cing letters. It is alfo obferved, that as the let- ters of the alphabet were ufed in expreffing numbers, the Greeks, after they had in procefs, of time al- tered or left out the letter vau in Hebrew, which {lands fixth in order, they put a new mark j* fof fix, that the reft might retain their powers ; which plainly iliews, that the Hebrew alpliaoet was older than the Greek, as it now Hands.
But, for my own part, I do not underftand the meaning of faying, that the Hebrew language was perfed at firft ; it might be fitted for all the pur- pofes of them that ufed it firft, and is probably at this day as good as any other language, fo far as it goes ; but it is plain, that this and all the other languages of the -firft ages were narrow, fiiort, and fimpie. They muft have been fo from the nature
Le£t. 4. ELOQUENCE. ^ jgj
of the thing ; moft probably they confiiled chiefly of monofyllables, reprefenting fimple ideas. What occalion had they, for complex or compound words, when they had few, if any, complex or compound ideas ? This appears very plainly from the flate of the Hebrew language, fome of the othei: orien- tals, and the language of all uncultivated people. It holds likewile in the cafe of the Chinefe lan- guage, which, though the people are not unculti- vated, properly fpeaking, is yet in an unimproved ftate, from their having had little intercourle with other nations. All fuch languages have few ad- j^61ives ; and when they do ufe words as adjec- tives, they are commonly figurative. There is an ingenious and probable deduction how a fcanty narrow language might be firft ufed in Shuckford's Conne^lions. They might exprefs qualities by the name of fome animal remarkable for them — as a lion-man, for a violent or fierce man. This is wholly agreeable to the genius of the Hebrew lan- guage. The Hebrews defcribe every thing that is very great, by adding the name of God to it, as — the trees of God — ^the river of God. It follows^ that ill all uncultivated languages, the figures are frequent, and very ftrong. The Indians in Ame- rica have a language full of metaphors. They take up the hatchet, for going to war j and they brighten the chain, when they confirm a peace.
Hence it appears, that in the earliell times, if they ufed figures, it was the efflid of neceffity, ra- ther than choice. But what men did at firfl out of neceffity,, orators afterwards returned to fiom
R3
•194 LECTURES ON _ Ltd.. 4.
choice, in order to increafe the beauty or force of their cli£lion, or both. In fa^t, figures do make the greateft impixffion on men's minds. They are fenfible, and therefore level to every man's capa- city : for the fame reafon they make a ftrong im- preffion on the imagination. They likewife leave a great deal of room for the creative power of fan- cy to make additions. A fign, or fymbol, feen by a multitude, on a fubje6l that is underftood, carries the contagion of enthufiafm, or rage, ex- ceedingly far. In the 19th of Judges, you fee the Levite took his concubine, and cut her into twelve parts, and fent them to all the tribes of Ifrael. The Roman alfo, holding up the ftump of his hand which he loft in the fervice of the public, pleaded for his brother with a power vaftly fuperior to any language whatever.
LECTURE V.
HAviKG given you a fhort view of language in general, if it were not too long, I would confider the ftrudure of particular languages ; in- llead of which, take the few- following fhort re- marks :
I. The nature of things neceflarily fuggefts many of the ways of fpeaking, which conftitutes the grammar of a language, and in every language there is nearly the fame number of parts of fpcech,
Lc£l. 5. ELOQUENCE. I95
as they are enumerated in the Latin grammar ; noun, pronoun, verb, participle, adverb, prepofi- tion, interjection, conjundion.
2. In the ufe cT thefe, there is a very great varie- ty. Nouns, to be fure, are declined nearly the fame way in all, by cafes and numbers ; though (he Greeks in this differ a little, uftng three num- bers inflead of two, having a particular infle£^ion of the word, when there are but two perfons meant ; and another for the plural or more : but in the verbs, there is a very great diverfity ; in the adive and pafTive figniUcation, they generally agree, but fome exprefs the perfons by termina-
■ons, and fome by pronouns and nominatives ex- preifed. Some have moods, which others have not. The Greeks have an optative mood ; the Latins have gerunds ; the Hebrevrs, v>4th fewer differences of moods, have conjugations that carry fome variety of fignification to the fame word. In oie word, fUiiser, (he delivered), there is not only ilils and its pafuve, but anotlier, he delivered di- ligently, and the paffive ; another, he made to de- liver ; another, he delivered himfelf. Tlie Greek:;, bcfides the adive and paffive, have a media vox^ of Vv'hich perhaps the ufe is not fully underflood ; fnicG fome of the beft grammarians fay it fignifies doing a think to one's felf ; Tupsofnai^ I fhall flrike myfelf. Moil of the modern languages decline their verbs, not by infledion of the termination, as the Greek and- Latin, but by auxiliary verbs, as the Englilh and French. The CLinefe language is perhaps the leall improved of any language that Jias'fubfilted for any time ; this probably is owing
Jg6 LECTURES ow Le£l. 5.
to their want of alphabetical writing; every word among them had a characler peculiar to it. fo that letters and words were the fame in number in their language ; this rendered it of immenfe difficulty to underfland their writing among themfelves, and quite impoiTible to foreigners ; but they were vaft- ly furprifed to iind^ that the Jefuits from Europe, that came among them, could eafily write their language by our alphabet ; and as they, ufe the fame word in different tones, for different meanings, thefe fathers alfo foon found a way of diftinguifh- ing thefe in writing, by certain markjs and accents, placed over the word, differing as it was to be dif- ferently taken. ,
3. Some have amufed themfelves with inventing a language, with fuch a regular grammar as might be eafily underflood, and having this language brought into general ufe. We have a remark of this kind, in Father Lami's Rhetorique,. in French, and he fays the grammar of the Tartai- language comes neareft ta it. We have alfo had fome fchemes and proportions of this kind in Englifh, but it feems wholly chimerical. I fliall only obferve fur- ther, that fome few have imagined, that the Hebrew language itfelf was originally, a:iid when complete, a perfe£llanguage,and that we now have it only maim- ed, and but a fmall part of it. The e fuppofe the language to be generated thus, by taking the letters of the alphabet, and iirft going through them re- gularly by two, and then by three, ^% ng, ad, &c. aba, ahby Sec. All thefe fchemes are idle, becaufe no perfon can pofTibly lay dowa rules beforehand^
Lecl. 5. ELOQUENCE. I97
for every thing that may be hereafter thought and fpoken ; and therefore, when they are brought out, they will be expiePicd as thofe to whom they liril occur fnall incline ; and cullom will finally fix them, and give them their authority.
Leaving thefe things, therefore, as matters of more curiofity than ufe, I proceed to fpeak of elo- quent fpeech, and its hillory as an art. It is plain, that in the progrefs of fociety, and the commerce of human life, it would foon appear, that fome fpoke wuth more grace and beauty, and fo as more to incline the hearers to their fentiments, than others ; neither is it hard to perceive, that it would be early in repute. In the firft alTociations of man- kind, they muft have been chiefly governed bj thofe who had the pov/er of perfuafion. In uncul- tivated focieties, it is fo ilill ; in an Indian tribe, the fachem or wife man direfts their councils. The progrefs of oratory towards perfedion mull have been evidently, in fact, like the proprefs of all other human arts, gradual, and in proportion to the encouragement given to its exercife. It pre- vailed where the ftate of things, and conftitiition of government, favoured it, but not othervviis.
It is to be ocferved here, that by the confent of all, and by the memorials of antiquity that are kfr, poetry v/as moic ancient than oratory j oir .rhaps we may rather fay, that the firfi exertions cf genius in eloquent expreiSon v^ere-in poetry, not in profe. It has frequently been made matter of critical inquiry, why poetry was prior to oratory, id why fooner brouglit to^ perfection? I do not perceive very clearly what great advantage there
igS LECTURES 017 Le£t. 5.
is in determining this queftlon, ftippofing we fliould hit upon the true reafons ; one reafon I take to be, that the circumftance in poetry that gives generally the higheft pleafure, viz. a ftrong and vigorous fancy, is leail indebted to application, inftriidion, or time, for its perfeftion ; therefore poetical pro- ductions in general, and that fpecies of them in particular, which have moil of that qualitj^ mull be as ealily produced in uncultivated times, as any other ; and, for fome reafons given in a former dif- courfe, mud appear then v/ith the greatefl efFe£l. Whereas, to fuccefs in oratory, fome knowledge of the human l^eart, and even fome experience in the ways of men, is neceifary. Another difference is plain ; poetical produftions having generally pleafure or imirxcdiate entertainment as their defign, may produce that effecl in any age ; whereas, the circnmflances that rendered the orator's difcourfe interefling, are all gone.
Perhaps to this we may add, that the incitements to poetry are more general. A poet pleafes, and obtains fame from every fingle perfon who reads or hears his produclions ; but an affembly, bulinefs, and an occasion, are neceijary to the orator. This lall Is Hkewife limited in point of place and fitua- tion. Oratory could not thrive in a (late where ar- bitrary power prevails, becaufe then there is no^ thing left for large affemblies, and a diffufive pu- blic, to determine ; whereas poetry is pleafmg to perfons, under any form of government what- ever.
Thofe who have given the hiflory of orator\% have rather given us the hiilory of the teachers ot
Lec^. 5. ELOQUENCE. I99
tliat art, than its progrefs and effc6ls. It muft be obferv-ed, however, that in this, as well as in poe- trj, criticifm is the child, and not the father of genius. It is the fruit of experience and judge- ment, bj relleclion upon the fpontaneous produc- tions of genius. Criticifm inquires what was the caufe of things being agreeable, after the effeft has been fcen. \Vard brings a citation from Cicero, to fliow that the orator's art was older than the Trojan war. The purport of this is, that Homer attributes force to UljiTes' fpeeches, and fweetnefs to Neftor's; perhaps alfo he has cliaracterifed Menelaus' mainer as fimple, ihort, and unadorned. There is not, liowever, any certainty in this art being much ftu- died or explained in thefe early times from this ci- tation ; for though Homer is an excellent poet, of inimitable fire and great flrength of natural judge- ment, it is not certain that he kept fo perfectly to propriety, as to defcribe only the manner and flyle* of things at the time of the Trojan war, which was 250 years before his own. I fhould be more apt to conclude, that he had defcribed manners, charac- ters, and fpeakers as they were in his own time, with a little air of antiquity.
We are, however, told by Paufanias, that the firfl fchool of oratory in Greece was opened in the fchool of Thefeus, the age preceding that war. If there be any certainty in this, its being taught in Greece has been very ancient indeed ; but thefe being fabulous times, it is fcarcely to be depended upon. However, it is certain that oratory flouriihed early, and was improved greatly in Greece. Many cir- <:unuftances concurred to produce this effe^. The
fOO LECTURES ON Le^l. 5.
fpirlt and capacity of the people — ^the earlj intro- du£lion of letters — but chiefiy their political litua- tion — the freedom of their ftates — the frequency of public affemblies — and the importance of their de- ciiions. There is much faid of the fpirit and capa- city of the Greeks for all the arts ; and to be fure their climate, fo ferene and temperate, might have all the effe£l that a climate can have : but I rekon the two other caufes much more conliderable. The introdu£lion of letters is necelTary to the improve- ment and perfection of a language ; and as they were early blefled with that advantage, they had the bell opportunity of improving. However, the iaft caufe of all is much more powerful than both the former, though perhaps literature is neceffary to be joined with it to produce any great effect. As to fome of the other arts, particularly painting and ftatuary, an eminent modern critic fays, the Greeks could not but excel, becaufe they, of all others, had the belt images from nature to copy. He fays that the games in Greece, in which the bell formed bodies for agility and llrength in the whole country were feen naked, and llriving and exerting themfelves to the very utmoll, mull have prefentedr-to perfons of genius originals to draw from, fuch as in moll other nations never are to be feen. If this remark is jull in the other arts, the influence of eloquence in the public affemblies of thefe free Hates mull have had a fmiilar effed in the art of fpeaking.
The art of fpeaking in Greece, however, does not feem to have rifen high till the time of Pericles, and he is faid to have been fo powerful an orator, that
Led. 5. ELOQUENCE. 101
he kept up his influence in the citj as much by his eloque^nce as tyrants did by their power. There is a paflage of Cicero, which feems to fa;- that he was the firft who prepared his difcoorfes ir. writing ; and fome have been fimple enough to beheve that he read them ; but nothing can be a more manifeft mif- take, becaufe action or pronunciation was by all the ancients coniidered as the great point in oratory. There were to be feen in Cicero and Qiiintilian's times, orations faid to be of Pericles ; but both thefe great orators feem to be of opinion that they were not his, becaufe they did not at all feem to come up to the great fame of his eloquence. Mr Bayle, a \ ery eminent critic, fays juil:l7, that thefe great men might be miilaken in that particular ; for a very indifferent compofition may be the work of a very great orator. The grace of elocution and the power of a£tion might not only acquire a man fame in fpeaking, but keep up his influence in public affem- blies. Of this we have two very great Britifh ex- amples, Mr Whitfield in the pulpit, and Mr Pitt in the fenate.
After Pericles there were many great orators in Greece, and indeed all their flatefmen were orators till the time of Demofthenes, when the Grecian eloquence feems to have attained its perfeclion. Tlie praifes of this great fpeaker are to be fo ge- pcrally met with, that I fhali not iniift upon them at fill, fiirther than reminding you, that though no doubt eminently qualified by nature, he needed and received great improvement from art.
The Roman eloquence was of much fhorter durar- VoL. VII. S
20r LECTURES ON LeiH:. 5.
tion. It is true that the Roman flate being free, and the aflemblies of the people having much in their power, it feems, according to the principles we have gone upon, that public fpeaking mui\ have been in efteem ; but there is fomething peculiar. The Romans were for many ages a plain, rough, unpolifhed people. Valour in war was their idol; and therefore, though to be fure from the earliell times the afTemblies muft have been manaored in their deliberations by their fpeakers, yet they were concife and unadorned, and probably confifted more of telling them their ftory, and fliowing their wounds, ivhich was of frequent pra£lice among them, than any artful or pailionate harangues. The tiril fpeak- ers of any eminence we read of in the Roman hiftory, were the Gracchi. Cicero, I believe, makes little mention even of them. Anthony and CralTus were the firfl celeorated orators among the Romans, and they were but in the age immediately befort- Cicero himfclf, and from his time it rather fell into decay.
1 have faid above, that genius and excellence was before criticifm. This is very plain ; for though we read cf fdiools and rhetoricians at difTere!;' times and places, thefe are confidered by the gre <■ mafters as perfons quite contemptible. Of di: kind therein a remarkable paflage in Cicero, in h'.- Brutus, " At hunc (fpeaking of Pericles) non dc- clamator," &.c. The firft juft and truly eminent crliic in Greece ^Vas Ariilotle, who flourillied as late as the time of DemoHhenes ; and Cicero hinifelf was the lirlt eminent critic among the Romans. Ariflotle has laid open the principles ci
Left. 5. ELOQUEVCE. 203^
eloquence and perfuafion as a logician and philofo- pher, and Cicero has done it iii a ftill more mafterly manner, as a philofopher, fcholar, orator, and ftatef- xnan ; and I confefs, unlefs he has had many authors to confult that we know nothing of, his judgement and penetration are quite admirable, and his books De Oratore, &.c. more nniihed in their kind thaa ajij of his orations themfelves.
As to the effefts of oratory, they have been and are furely very great ; but as things feen through a mill,, or at a great diilance, are apt to be miftaken in their fize ; I am apt to think many fay things in- credible, and n'iake fuppoiitions quite contrary to nature and reafon, aud therefore to probability. Some fpeak and write as if all the ancient orators had a genius more than human, and indeed by their whole flrain feem rather to extinguifh than excite, an ardour to excel. Some alio feeai to me to go upon a fuppofition as if all the people in the ancient republics had been fagesj as well as their ftatefmen orators. — There is a remark to be found in many critics upon a flory of Theophraftus the pliilofopher, from which they infer the delicacy of the Athe- nians. That philofopher, it feems, went to bny fomething of an herb-woman, at a flail, and £he in her anfwer to him, it feems, called him ftranger. This, they fay, ihows that (he knew him by his accent not to be a native of Athens, although he had lived there thirty years. But we are not even cer- tain that her calling him ftranger implied any more than that he was unknown to her. Eefides, though- it were true that fhc difcovercd him not to be an Sa
204 LECTURES ON Left. 5.
Athenian boril, this is no more than what happens in every populous country, that there is fomething in tilt accent which will determine a man to be of one country or province, rather than another; and I am fomething of opinion, that this would be more difcernible in Greece than any where elfe. The different ctialeds of the Greek tongue were not reckoned reproachful, as many local differences aye in Britain, which therefore people will endeavour to rid themfelves of as well as they can. In fliort, I take it for granted, that an alTembly of the vulgar in Athens was juft like an aflembly of commcm people among us, and a fenate at Athens in under- itanding and taile was not fuperior to the fenate of Great Britain, and that fome of them v/ere but mere mobs ; and that they were very difovderly, is plain from what we read of Plato being pulled down from the delk, when he went up to defend Socrates.
The moft remarkable flory of the effed of oratory is that told of Cicero's power over Caefar, in his oration for C. Ligarius. This is very pompoufly told by fome critics, that Cccfar came to the judge- ment-feat determined to condemn him, and even took the pen in his hand to fign his condemnation j but that he was intercfled by Cicero's eloquence, and at laft fo moved that he dropped the pen, and granted the orator's requeft. But fuppofing the facls to have happened, I am very doubtful of the jullnefs of the remark. Cacfar was a great politi- ''cian, and as we know he did attempt to eftabliih his authority by m.ercy, it is not unlikely both that he determined to pardon Ligarius, and to flatter Cicera's vanity by giving him the honour of obtaining it. la
Ihort, oratory has its chief power in proTnilcuous af- femblies, and there it reigned of old, and reigns ftill, b/ its viiible efTeel.
LECTURE VI.
WE now proceed to confider eloquence as divided into its three great kinds — the fu- blime, the limple, and tlie mixed. This is very unhappily exprefled by Ward, who divides flyle into the low, the middle,, and the fublime. Low is a. word which, in itsfiril and literal fenfe, figniiles lltuation, and when applied metapliorically, never is in any inilance ufed in a good fenfe, but always ftgnifies what is either unhappy, or bafe and con- temptible, as we lay a man's or a flate's finances are low. We fay a man is- in a low Hate of health. We fay he is guilty of low, mean pra£lices j has alow, mean, paltry llyle^ It was therefore con- veying a very wrong idea to make low one of th& different kinds of ftyle. You may obferve that I have introduced this diilinftion in a manner fome» what different from him and other authors. They confider it as a divifion of ftyle. I choofe rather to fay, vhere are three different great kinds, ii.to which eloquence and eompofition may be divided. The reafcxi is, 1 believe, the word styk^ which was ufed both by the Greeks and Romans, but ef^e. allv the latter, has, like many others, gradually chanc,ed its- jaeaaing. At ^il it signified the manner of wri»-
S3
2ra5 lECTURES ON Lee!. 6,
ting in general, and Is even fometimes ufed fo ftil], but more commonly now in Engiilli it is confined to the diftion. Nothing is more common than to fay, fublimity in fentiments and ftyle, fo as to diillnguifli the one from the other. I am fenfible that even in this confined fcnfe there is a fublimity, fimpliclty, and mediocrity in language itfelf, which will na- tiu-ally enough fall to be explained; but it is better, upon the whole, to confider them as different kinds of eloquence, for feveral reafons.
Sublimity in writing confif^s with all ftyles, and particularly many of the hfgheft and mofl admired \ examples of fublimity are in the utmoft fimplicity of flyle. Sometimes they are fo far from loling by jt, that they owe a great part of their force to it. That remarkable example of fublimity in the fcrip- ture, h wholly in the fimple. " Let there be light, ** and there was light. *^ There are alfo many others in fcripture : " The gods of the Gentiles are vanity ** and lies," — " I am thit I am.""
Some of the other kinds alfo, even the fimpleil, do fometimes admit great force of expreffion, though more rarely j and there is a great danger in the fimple manner of" writing, hy admitting lofty ex- prellions to fwell into bombaft. The mixed kind frequently admits of fublimity of ftyle, and indeed is called mixed, as confifling, as it were, alten.ately of the one and the other, or being made up of a proportion of each.
The fublime kind of writing chiefly belongs to the following fubjefts : Epic poetry, tragedy, ora- tions on great fubjefts, and then particularly the peroration. Nothing can be too great for theJGs
L<:ct. 6. ELOQUENCE. 107
fubjects; and unlefs thej are treated with fublimit;,v they are not treated fuitablj. The limple kind of writing belongs to fcientitic writing, epiftoiary wri- ting, eflaj and dialogue, and to the whole inferior ipecies of poetiy, pallorals, epigrams, epitaphs, &:c. The mixed kind belongs to hiflorj, fjilem, and controverfj. The firil fort mufl be always fablime in fentiment or language, or both. The fecoud may be often fablime ia fentiment ; fometimes, and very rarely, in language. The mixed admits of both forts with full propriety, and may be often fublime boih in fentiment and language.
Let us now coniider thefe three great kinds of compofitioiL, feparately, in the order in which I have named them.
I. Of the fublime manner of writing. — This is very difficult to defcribe or treat of , in a critical manner. It is very remarkable, that all writers oa this fubjeft, not excepting tliofe of the greatefl judgement, accuracy, and precilion, when they come to explain it, have ufed nothing but metapho- rical expreHions. It is, however, certain in general, that metaphor fliould be kept as much as poiiibls out of definition or explication. Thefe all agrec« ing, therefore,^ in this circumflance, feems to fhow, that fublimity is a fingle or fimple idea, that cannot be refolved, divided, or analyfed,. and that a tafie for it is, in a good meafure, a feeling of nature. The critics tell us, that mblimity is that which fiir- prifes, raviihes, tranfports : thefe are words fre- quently applied to its effects upon the hearers,, and greatnefs, loftinefs, majefty, are afcribed to the fen- timects, to the character^ to the perfon. An ora-
208 LECTURES C>f Lecl. 6,
tion, or tlie fuLlimc parts of a pocm^ have beea eomparcd to the voice of thunder, or penetration of lightning:, to the impetuoiitj of a torrent ; this laft ts one of the b^ll metaphorical exprelTions for fub- liniity in eloquence, bcfcaufe it carries in it, not only the idea o-f great force, but of carrying away every thing with it that oppofes or lies in its wa}^ That may be faid to be fublime, that has an irrefift- ible influence on ttie hearers, and when exasmined carries it in the idea of great power and abilities in the fpeaker : yet even this is not fufficient, it has the cliaracler of greatnefs,. as diftinft from that of beauty, fweetnefs, or ufe. Burke, on the Sublime, has endeavoured to Ihow, that fublimity and beauty, though generally united in our apprehenfions, are diftindt qualities-,, and to be traced to a different fource. Of fublimity in particular, he fays it is always allied to fuch things asraife the paflion of terror : but of this I will fpeak more fuUy upon a head I have referved fc* that purpofe ; in which I propofe to inquire into the firft principles of tafle or approbation, common to this and all other arts.
Longinus mentions no lefs than five different fources of the fublime. i. Greatnefs or elevntioa of mind, 2. Pathos or pafiloa. 3. Figure. 4- Noblenefs of language. 5. Compofition, or ar- rangement of words. But though the laft two of thefe are of confiderable moment, and greatly con- tribute to augment the force as well as beauty of a difcouifc, I do not think they are of ihrt ; ature as. to be confidercd upon the fame footing with the other three. Therefore, leaving what is to be i"aid
Lc£l. 6. ELOQUENCE. 2C9
upon them to the next head, when it will properly occur, I fliall conlider the others in their order.
I. Greatnefs or elevation of mind. — This is in- deed the firft and radical fource of fublimity. It is quite impoflible for a man to attain to fublimitj of compofition, unlefs his foul is great, and his concep- tions noble ; and, on the other hand, he that pof- felTes thefe can hardly exprefs himfelf meanlj. Longinus gives it as an advice, that a man fhould accuilom his mind to great thoughts. But if you alk me, what are great thoughts ? I confefs myfelf unable to explain it, and unlefs the feeling is na- tural, I am afraid it is impoffible to impart it ; yet it feems to be pretty generally underilood. It is common to fay, fuch a man has a great foul, or fuch another has a mean or little foul. A great foul afpires in its hopes ; is not eafily terrified by enemies, or difcouraged by difiiculties. It is worth while to confider a little the effed of a man's outward cir- cumflances. The mind, to be fure, cannot be whol- ly made by any circumilances. Sentiments and flate are different things. Many a great mind has been in narrow circumilances, and many a littl? rafcal has been a king ; yet education and maimer have a fenfible effect upon men in general. I imagine I have obferved, that when perfons of rank have been at the fame time men of real genius, they have generally excelled in majefly and dignity of fentiments and language. This was an advan- tage generally enjoyed by the ancients whofe writ- ings remain to us ; having but their own language to ftudy, and being early introduced into public life, and i;ven into the condud of the greateil aflfairs.
210 LECTURES OxV Lecl. ^.
they were led into noblcnefs of fenliment. Xeno- phon, Domofthenes, Cicero, Csefar, were all of them great llatefmen, and two of them great generals, as well as writers. In modern times, there is a more complete partition of employments, fo that tlie ftatefman, general, and fcliclar, are feldom found united in the fame pcrfon ; yet I think it appeara in fa6t, that when ftatefmen are alfo fcholars,. they make, upon the whole, greater orators and nobler •writers, than thofe who are fcholars merely, though of the greateit capacity. In e^rery flation, how- ever, this remark has place, that it is of importance to fublimity in writing, to endeavour to acquire a large and liberal manner of thinking. Whilfl I am making ufe of this language, I would caution -you againil thinking, that pride and vanity of mind are at all allied to greatnefs, in this refpeft. There is a fet of men called free-thinkers, w^ho are pleafed to arrogate to themfelves a large and liberal manner of thinking; and the generality of them are as little creatures as any on the face of the earth. Mr Addifon compares them to a fly, which lighting upon a great building, and perceiving the fmall interftices between the ftones, cries out of vaft chafms and irregularities, which is wholly owing to the extreme littlenefs of his fight, that is not able to fee the dignity and grandeur of the whole building. When I am upon this fubje6l of greatnefs and elevation of thought, as one fource of the fublinie, you will naturally exped that I ihould give fome examples to illuftrate it. I fliall begin with fome out of the fcriptures, where indeed there is the greateft number, ruid theft; the nobleil that can well
Left. 6. ELOQUTLKCE. 211
be conceived. " I am God alone, and beddes me there is no Saviour. —Who is this that darkeneth counfel by words without knowledge ? — W ho will fet the briars and thorns agauill me in battle :'* &.C. See aU'o two paffages inimitably grand. — Ita. xli 12. and ver. 2 1. and onwards.
To mention fome of the fajings in heathen an- tiquity,— Alexander's faying to Parmenio is cer- tainly of the great kind, yet perliaps with a confider- able mixture of pride as w^U as greatnefs. Par- menio told him, if he were Alexander he would act in a cenain manner. Anfwer i So would I, if I were Parmenio* That of Poms, the Indian king, to Alexander, however, was much greater. When he was Alexander's prifoner, and was afked by that prince how he expected to be treated ? he anfwer- ed, Like a king. Caefar's famous faying of Vent, *oidiy vifi\ has often been quoted as a concife and noble defcription of the rapidity of his conquells ; yet I confefs I think it very dubious ; it had not only an air of improper vanity, but looks like an intended and filly play upon the words, and what we call alliteration. They are three words of the fame length, the fame tenfe, and the fame begin- ning and ending. Cicero, in one of his orations, I believe in that for Marcellus, has a very noble compliment to Caefar, whr^n he fays, the gods had given nothing lo men fo great as a difpoiition to (hew mercy. Bat of all great fayings on record, there is none that ever made fuch an imprefTion upon mc as that of AylifFe to king James III. He had been detected in fome of the pl6ts, &.C. The king fa id to him, Mr AylifFe, d^n't you know
212 LECTURES ON Liidi. 6.
it is in my power to pardon you ? Yes, (fays he), I know it is in your power, but it is not in your na- ture !
It is neceflary to put you in mind, in reading books of criticifm, that when examples of greatnefs of fentiment are produced from Homer and the other ancient writers, that all circumftances mull be taken in, in order to form a juft opinion con- cerning them. We muft remember his times, and the general belief of his countrymen with regard to theolog}^, and many other fubjedls. There muft be a probability to make a thing natural, otherwife it is not great or noble, but extravagant. Homer, in defcribing the goddefs Difcord, fays, Her feet were upon the eartli, and her head was covered with rhe clouds. He makes Pluto look up and affirm, that Neptune would open hell itfelf, and make the light to ftiine into that dark abode. There are fome of thefe that appear tome fufpicious even in Homer himfelf ; fuch as, when he makes Jupiter brag, that if all the other gods were to hang at the bottom of a chain, and earth and fea, and all along with them, he would tofs them all up as eafily as a bail. How- ever it w^as with regard to him, who was taught to believe in Jupiter fitting upon Mount Olympus, or quaffing Neclar in the council of the gods, modern and Chriftian writers and fpeakers fliould be careful to avoid any thing that is extravagant and ridicu- lous, or even fuch allufions to the heathen theology as could only be proper Jo thofe who believed in it. —There is the more reafon to infift upon this, that as grandeur and fublimity is commonly a great ob- jed of ambition, particularly with young perfons,
Lecl. 6. ELOC^JENCE. 213.
they are very ready to degenerate into bombaft. You ought always to remember, thai the lan'g age ought to be no higher than the fubje6l, or the part of the fubjed that is then immediately handled. See an example of the different ways of a fimple and a turgid writer, upon the very fame fentiment, where the Roman empire was extended to the wef- tern coaft of Spain : Sextus Rufus fimply tells it thus — Hispanias per Decinmm Brutum ohtinuimus^ tt usque ad Gades et oceanum perueni?nus, Florus, taking a more lofty flight, fays — Decimus Brutus aliquant 0 totius, &lc.
I have only further to obferve, that, in fublime defcriptions, great care fliould be taken that they be all of a piece, and nothing unfuitable brought into view. Longinus juilly blamed the poet Hefiod, that after he had faid every thing he could, to ren- der the goddefs of darknefs terrible, he adds, that a blinking humour ran from her nofe — a circumilance highly difgufling, but no way terrible.
LECTURE VII.
1C0ME now to the fecond fource of the fub- lime, which is pathos, more commonly called in Englifh the pathetic, that is, the power of mo«- ving the paffions. This is' a very important part of the fubje6l : a power over the paffions is of the utmoll confequence to a poet ; and it is all in all to an orator. This every one will perceive, if he only V-OL. VII. T
214 LECTURES ON Le(ft. 7.
recollects what influence paffion or fentiment has upon reafon, or, in other words, inclination upon the praftical judgeanent. He that polTelles this power in a high degree has the highell capacity of ufefulnefs, and is likewife able to do the greatefl miichief. Sublime fentiments and language may- be formed upon any fubje(Sl:, and they touch the lieart with a fenfe of fympathy or approbation ; but to move the paffions of others, fo as to incline their choice, or to alter their purpofe, is particularly the defign of eloquence.
The chief pailions eloquence is intended to work upon are, rage, terror, pity, and perhaps defire in general ; though occafionally he may have occafion to introduce every afFedion. In a heroic poem, £very affedion may be faid to take its turn ; but the different fpecies of oratory, or the different objefts and fubje6ls of it, may be faid to divide the paffions. A fpeaker in political or deliberative affemblics may be faid to have it in view to excite the paflion of rage : he may naturally defire to incenfe his hearers againll their enemies, foreign and domeftic, reprefenting the firll as terrible and dangerous, to excite averfion and hatred; and the other as weak or worthlefs, to excite contempt. An example of this you have in the great fubjed of Demofthenes's Orations, Philip, king of Macedon — another in Cicero's difcourfes againff Catil e and Anthony. Pity is the chief paffiou attempted to be raifed at the bar, unlefs in criminal cafes, where indignation againll vilhiiny of every kind is the part of the accufcr. Terror and its attendants belong ery much to a fpeaker in the pulpit ; rage he has no-
Left. 7. ELOQUENCE. 21 5
thing to do with but in an improper fenfe, to raife a ftrong and fteadj, but uniform, indignation againft evil. But even this a fpeaker from the pulpit ihould endeavour to convert into compaflion for the follj and wretchednefs of the guilty perfonr Pity feems to be the fingle objccl in tragedy.
One talent of great moment towards raifmg the pa -lions, is a ftrong and clear imagination, and a defcrlptive manner of fpeaking, to paint fcenes and objefts ftronglj, and fet them before the ejes of the hearers ; — to feleft fuch circumftances as will have the moft powerful effeft, and to dwell only upon thefe. We have not any where in Eng- lifli a finer example of the pathetic, and the choice and ufe of circumftances, than the fpeecli which Shakefpeare has made for Anthony, in the tragedy of Ccefar. It appears from the hiftory, that An- thony did fuccefsfuUy raife the fury of the Romans againft thofe who killed Caefar ; and, I think, he could hardly feleft better images aini language^ than thofe we have in the Englifti poet :
« But yefterday," &c.
I. To railing the paflions with fuccefs, much peiietration and knov;ledge of human nature is nc- celTary. Without this, every attempt muft fail. In confirmation of this remark, though there are per- fons much better fitted for it by nature than others, the moft powerful in raifing the paflions liave ge- nerally been thofe who have had much acquaint- ance v/ith mankind, and praftice in life. Reclufe T 2
2l6 LECTURES ON Ledl. 7.
fludents, and profefTed fcholars, will be able to difcover truth, and to defend it, or to write moral precepts with clearnefs and beauty ; but they are feldom equal for the tender and pathetic, to thofe who have been much in what is called the world — by a well known ufe of that word, though al- moft peculiar to the Engliih language. There is perhaps a double reafon for perfons well verfed in the ways of men, having the greateil power upon the paffions. They not only know others better, and therefore how to touch them, but their own hearts, it is likely, have been agitated by more paffions than thofe whofe lives have been more calm and even.
2. To raifmg the paffions of others, it is necef- fary the orator or writer fliould feel what he would communicate. This is fo well known a rule, that I am almoft afhamed to mention it, or the trite quotation commonly attending it. Si vis me flere^ dolendum est primum ipsi tibi. You may as well ^ kindle a fire with a piece of ice, as raife the paf- fions of others while your own are ft ill. I fuppofe the reafon of this, if we would critically examine it, is, that we believe the thing to be a pretence or impofition altogether, if we fee that he who wifhes us to be moved by what he fays, is notwith- ilanding himfelf unmoved. The offence is even fomething more than barely negative in fome cafes. If we hear a man fpeaking with coldnefs and indif- ference, where we think he ought to be deeply interefted, we feel a certain difappointment, and are filled with difpleafure ; as if an advocate was pleading for a perfon accufed of a capital crime, if
Led. 7. ELOQUENCF. ^l*j
he fhould appear T\'ith an air of IndifTerence and unconceri>, let his language and compofition be what they will, it is always faulty and difgulling ; or, let a minifter, when fpeaking on the weighty fubjecl of eternity, ihow any levity in his carriage, it muli weaken the force of the mofl moving truths ; whereas, when we fee the fpeaker wholly engaged and pofleiTed by his fubjed, feeling every paflion he wiines to communicate, we give our- felves up to him without rcferve, and are formed after his xqtj temper, by receiving his inftruc- ticiis.
3. It is a direction nearly allied to this, that a man iliould never attempt to raife the paffions of his hearers higher than the fubjed plainly merits it. There are fome fubjeds that, if we are ablc^ are of fuch moment, as to deferve all the zeal and fire we can poflibly beftow on them, of w-liich we may fay, as Dr Young, '* Paffion is reafon, tranfport temper here." — A lawyer for his client, whom he believes to be innocent j a patriot for his country, which he believes to be in danger: but, above all, a minifter, for his people''s everlafling welfare, may fpeak with as much force and vehemence as his temper and frame are fufceptible of ; but in many other cafes, it is eafy to tranfcend tlie bounds of reafon, and make the language more lofty than the theme. We meet often, for example, with raifed and laboured encomiums in dedications, a fpecies of writing the moil difficult to fucceed in of any almoft that can be named. The perfon honoured by this mark cf the author's efleem, is very fel»
T3.
^^S LECTURES ON Le^. 7.
dom placed in the fame rank by the public that he is by him. Befides, though he were really me- ritorious, it feldom comes fairly up to the repre- fentation : the truth is, to correfpond to the plclure, he fhould be almoft the only meritorious perfon of the age or place in which he lives. Now, confi- dering how cold a compliment this is to all the reft, and particularly to thofe who read it, tliere is little wonder that fuch rhapfodies are treated with contempt. I have often thought the fame thing of funeral panegyrics : when a man dies, whofe name perhaps was hardly ever heard of before, wc have a fplendid character of him in the newfpapers, where the prejudice of relations, or the pai'tiality of friendfhip, do juA what they pleafe. I remem- ber, at the death of a perfon whom I Ihall not name, who was, it mull be confelTed, not inconil- derable for literature, but otherwife had not much that was either great or amiable about him, an ele- giac poem was publifhed, which began wiih this line, " Whence this aftonilhment in every face ?" Had the thing been really true, and the public had been deeply affected with the lofs, the introduelion had not been inelegant ; but on fuch a pompous ex- preffion, when the reader recolle6led that he had feen no marks of public aftonifhment, it could not but tempt him to fmile.
4. Another important remark to be made here, is, that a writer or fpeaker, in attempting the pa- thetic, fjiould confider his own natural turn, as well as the fubje<^. Some are naturally of a lefs warm and glowing imagination, and in themfelves fuf- ceptible of a lefs degree of paflion than others \
Le£l. 7. £LO()UBNCE. 219
thefe ihould take care not to attempt a flight that they cannot finifli, or enter upon fuch fentiments and language, as they will probably link, as it were, and fall away from in a little time, ' Such fhould fubftitute gravity and folemnity, inftead of fire, and only attempt to make their difcourfe clear to the underilanding, and convincing to the confcience ; perhaps, this is in general the bed way in ferious difcourfes, and moral writings ; becaufe, though it maj^ not produce fo ftrong or ardent emotions, it often leaves a deeper and more laiiing impreflioa*
Of Figurative Speech.
It Is common to meet with this exprellion, '' The tropes and figures of rhetoric." This expreflion is not juft : the terms are neither fynonytnous, nor ai'c they two diftipft fpecies of one genus. Figure is the general exprefiion ; a trope is one of the fi- gures, but there are many more. Every trope is a figure, but every figure is not a trope : perhaps we may fay, a trope is an expedient to render lan- guage more extenlive and copious, and may be ufed in tranquillity ; v/hereas, a figure is the efFe(^l of paffion. This diftin6tion, however, cannot be univerfally maintained ; for tropes are oftentimes the efFe6l of pafiTion, as well as of the narrownefs of language. Figures may be defined, any depar- ture from the plain direO: manner of expreffion, and particularly fuch as' are fuggefted by the paf- £ons, and differ, on that account, from the way in
220 LECTDRKS ON Lect. 7.
which we would have fpoken, if in a >late of per- fe<ft tranquillity. Tropes are a fpecies of figures, in which a word or phrafe is made ufe of in a fenfe different from its firft and proper fignlfication ; as, " The Lord is a fun and ihield ;" where the words " fun and fhicld" are ufed tropically. There are feveral different tropes.
1. Metonymy. — This is a very general kind of trope, comprehending under it feveral others ; the meaning of it is a change of name, or one name for another. This may be done feveral ways: i. The caufe may be put for the effect, or the cffe6l for the caufe ; as when we fay, cold death, be- caufe death makes cold : Old age kept him be- hind, that is, made him weak, &.c. 2. The author for his works. 3. The thing, containing, for the thing contained ; as, drink the cup, that is, the liquor in the cup. 4. A part is taken for the whole, or the whole for a part ; as, my roof, for my houfe ; my houfe is on fire, when only a fmall part of it bums. This is called Synecdoche. 5. A general term for a particular; a hundred veafons may be given, that is, many reafons may be given. 6. A proper name for a chara6terif- tlc name ; as, he is a Nero, for a cruel man ; or, a Sardanapalus, for a voluptuous monarch. All thefe and many more are metonymies.
2, Metaphor. — This might as well have been the general term, as trope ; for it alfo fignifies change of expreffion : it is a fpecies of trope, by which any term is applied in a fenfe different from its natural import ; as when we fay, a tide of plea- furc, to exprcfs the impetuofity of pleafure j when
Lecl. 7. ELOQUENCE. 22X
the heavens are faid to be over our heads as brafs, and the earth under our feet as iron.
3. Allegory. — This is continuing the metaphor, and extending it by a variety of expreilions of the fame kind ; as, '* The Lord is my lliepherd, he maketh me to lie down in green paftures — he ma- keth me to feed hefide the ftill waters."
4. Irony. — In ufing words direftly contrary to their meaning ; a?, " No doubt you are the people, and wifdom fhall'die with you."
5. Hyperbole. — When things are carried beyond their truth, to exprefs our fcntiments more ilrong- ly ; as, " Swifier than the wind, whiter than fnov/."
6. Catachrefis — is the firil trope of all, when words are ufed in an pppofite, and fometimes in an impoilible fenfe ; as, when chains and fhackles are called bracelets of iron.
Figures*
Figures cannot be fuUy enumerated, becaufe they are v/ithout number ; and each figure may be
ufed feveral different ways. I. Exclamation
This is notliing elfe than a way of exprefling ad- miration, or lamentation 5 as. Oh 1 Alas ! Hea- vens I 8cc. ufed by perfons much moved, z. Doubt. — Tliisis frequently the expreffion of a doubt- ful mindj in fufpcnce what to do. This is defcri- bed by Virgil, in the diftrefs of Dido, when Eneas left her : *« Shall I go to the neighbouring kings, whom I have fo often defDifed?" JSometimes it
222 LECTURES ON Le6l. 7.
15 a beautiful figure, and obliges perfons to take notice of it, and fometimes of what thej would otherwife have omitted : " Who is this that co-
meth from Edom?" 3. Epanorthofis This is
a corre6^ion or improvement of what has been faid : ** You are not truly the fon of a goddefs, naj, you muft liave fucked a tygrefs." 4. Pleonafm. — This is a redundancy ; as, "I have heard it with my ears, he fpake it with liis mouth.'* 5. Si- militude.— This is comparing one thing wuth an- other -, as, " He fhall be like a tree planted," &:c. 6. Diftribution. — This ^onfifts of a particular enumeration of feveral correfpondent images : " Their throat is an open fepulchre, their tongues have uied deceit.'* 7. Profopopeia When per- fons dead or abfent, or different from the fpeaker, are brought in fpeaking ; as, Cicero fuppofes his coimtry or Italy, and all the public faying to him, ** Marcus Tullius, what are you doing ?'* 8. Apoftrophe — When perfons dead or abfent, or any inanimate things, are fpoken to ; as Cicero fays, " 0 I 'vos ;" or, " Hear, O heavens ! and give ear, O earth !" 9. Communication. — When a fpeaker calls upon his hearers to fay what ad- vice they would give, or what they would have done different from what he, or the perfon whom he defends, has done : What could you have done in this cafe? What fhould I do now? 10. In- terrogation.— Putting a thing home to the readers ; asj " What fruit had you then in thofe things of which you are now afhamed r"
Lecl. 8. ELOQUENCE. 223
LECTURE VIII.
1HAVE now gone through the account given in the fjftems, of the tropes and figures of rhe- toric, by which you will fufficiently underftand the meaning of both. The proper applications, how- ever, of them, is a matter of much greater mo- ment, and of much greater difficulty. I will make a few remarks before I clofe the fubje£t, in addi- tion to what hath been already interfperfed through tlie different parts of it.
I. Perhaps it will not be improper to conflder what is the purpofe intended by figures. I have introduced them here as a means of giving fubli- mity to a difcourfe ; but may there not be fome little analyfis and refolution of that purpofe ? may we not inquire, what are the particular efFe£ls of figures ? Are the effects of figures in general, and of all figures, the fame ? It is certain, that figura- tive fpeech is very powerful in raifing the paffions. And probably, different figures are proper to ex- prefs or excite different paffions ; admiration, de- fire, pity, hatred, rage, or difdain. This appears from the explication of figures formerly given. But, befides this, we may obferve, that there are fome effeds of figures that feem to be wholly unconne6l- ed with paffion ; of thefe I fhall mention three, or- nament, explication, conviftion. Sometimes figure is made ufe of merely for ornament. Of this RoUin gives us an example, in which an author fays, ** The king, to give an eternal mark of the eileem
224 LECTURES ON Led. 8.
and firlendfliip with which he honoured a great ge- neral, gave an ilKiftrious place to his glorious afhes, amidfl thofe mafters of the earth, who pre- ferve on the magnificence of their tombs an image of the lullre of their thrones." Under this head may be reckoned all the examples of the ufe of fi- gures, to raife things that are mean and low in themfelves, to fome degree of dignity, by the phra- feology, or to give a greater dignity to any thing than the fimple idea, or the proper name would convey, as if one fhould fay. Looking round the fcene, and obferving the bounteous gifts of Provi- dence for the fupport of innumerable creatures, inftead of. The grafs and corn every where growing in abundance. Perhaps, alfo, under the fame head may be reckoned, the cloathing in other terms, any thing that might be fuppofed difagree- able, or difgufting ; as when Cicero confefles, that the fervants of Milo killed Clodius, he does not fay, intersecemntf but he fays, " They did that which every good man would wifh his fervants to do in like circumftances." I fliall only obferve, that the greateft delicacy and judgement imagin- able is necelTary in the ufe of figures with this view, becaufe they are very apt to degenerate into bom- baft. Young perfons, in their firft compo'fitions, and efpecially when they have a good deal of an- cient literature frefh in their heads, are very apt to be faulty in this particular. A common word, or fentiment, which any body might ufe, and every body would underftand, they think mean and be-, low them, and therefore they have recour'e to un- tieceffary figures, and hard ox learned phrafes. In-
Lecl. S. ELOQUENCE. 125
ftead of walking about the fields, they perambulate them ; they do not difcover a thing, but recognife it. Johnfon, the author of the Rambler, is the moll faulty this way of any writer of charader. A little play of wit, or a few ilrokes of railleiy, he calls a reciprocation of smartness.
Another ufe of figures is, for explication, to make a thing more clearly conceived. This, in general, may be faid to be the ufe of the fimilitude ; only, I think, when figures are ufed for illuilra- tion, it is as much to affifl the imagination as the judgement, and to make the impreflion, which was before real and juft, very ilrong. For ex- ample, when Solomon fays, " Let a bear robbed of her whelps meet a man, rather than a fool in his folly." *' If you bray a fool in a mortar, he wull return to his folly." " The fooiiih man waiketh by the way, and he faith to every one that he is a fool."
A third ufe of figures may be faid, although im- properly, to be for con\4clion, or to make us more readily or more fully yield to the truth ; as when, to fupport what we have faid, that perfons of found judgement are refer\*ed in fpeech, we add, deep waters move without noife — or that men in emi- nent ftations are expofed to obfervation and cenfure. " A city that is fet on a hill cannot be hid." In all fuch cafes, therefore, it is certain, that a fimi- -iitude is not an argument, yet the analogy of nature leems to carry in it a good deal of evidence, and adds to the imprellion made upon the mind.
2. A fecond remark is, that fieures of every Vol. VII. U
226 LECTURES ON Led. 8.
'kind fhould come naturally, and never be fought for; The dcfig n of explaining the feveral kinds of figures, is not to teach you to make them, but to corred them. Arguments and illuflrations we mull endeavour to invent, but figures never. If they do not flow fpontaneons, they are always for- ced. If a man, having proceeded too far in a fub- jed, bethinks himfelf, that he will here introduce a fimilitude, or an allegory, or a profopopeia, &:c. he will either mifs of it altogether, or he will pro- duce fomething vaflly more jejune and infipid, than it is poflible for any man to make without figures. It puts me in mind of the ridiculous chafms that fome perfons bring themfelves to in converfation, when they offer to bring a fimilitude which has not yet occurred to them. They will fay, <* He raged, and raved, and roared, juil like — I don't know what.'' Figures fhould be the native ex- prefllon of palTions or conceptions already felt, as they are the means of raifing pafTions in thofe to wliomy ou fpeak. They fhould, therefore, be pof- terior in point of time to the feelings of the fpcak- er, although prior to thofe of the hearers. The great purpofe, therefore, of criticifm on this part of the fubjed, is to prune the luxuriancies of nature, and fee that the figures be juft and natural.
3. I have already, in fpeak ing upon the tropes, had occafion to give fome rules as to the ufe of them, particularly as to the propriety and confiflency of them. But there are fome things to be obferved further for explaining them. There are two cha- raders frequently given to tropes, efpecially to me- taphors, which defervx to be confidered. The one
Lecl. 8. ELOQUENCE. 227*^
is ftrength, the other is boldnefs. Thefe are by no means the fame. That is a ftrong metaphor, or image, that gives us a very lively impreiiion of the thing reprefented. As that of the wife man, " A ftone is hea\y, and the fand is weighty, but a fool's wrath is heavier than both." A bold image, or metaphor, is that which, upon the whole, is juft and ftrong, but is confiderably removed from common obfer\-ation, and would not eafily or rea- dily have occurred to another. It is aLfo called a bold image, when the refemblance is but in one fingle point. There is not any where to be feen a colleftion of bolder images, than in the book of Job, particularly in the defcription of the war- liorfe, among which in particular the following feems to excel : " Haft thou 'cloathed his neck with thunder?" To liken the mane of a horfe to thunder, would not have occurred to every one ; neither in idea does the refemblance hold but in one particular, that the flowing and wa\'ing of the mane is like the flieets and forked flakes of lightning.
LECTURE IX.
I NOW come to confider the fimple manner of writing. If I could explain this fully, fo as to make every one clearly to underftand it, and at the fame incline you to admire and ftudy it, I fhould think a very difficult and important point
U 2
aaft LECTURES ON Left. ^,
was gained. It is exceedingly difficult to bring young perfons, efpecially, to a tafle for the fimple "Way of writing. They are apt to think it of little n^oment, not fo much the objeft of ambition, as an exercife of felf-denial, to fay a thing plainly, when they might have faid it nobly. I would ob- ferv^e, therefore, in the very beginning, that it is a miilake to confider fimplicity and fublimity as univerfally oppofite ; for, on the contrary, there is not only a gTeat excellence in fome performances, which we may call wholly of the fimple kind, fuch as a flory told, or an epifde written, with all the^ beauty of fimplicity, but, in the mofl fublime and animated compofitions, fome of the greatefl fentiments derive their beauty from being cloathed in fimple language. Simplicity is even as necelTa- ry to fome parts of an oration, as it is to the whole of fome kinds of compofition. Let the fubjeft: be ever fo great and interefting, it is prudent, decent, neceiTary, to begin the difcourfe in a cool and dif- paflionate manner. That man who fliould begin an oration with the fame boldnefs of figure, and the fame high pitch of voice that would be proper towards the clofe of it, woiild commit one of the greateil faults againft propriety, and, I think, would wholly prevent its efFed upon the hearers.
But how fhall we explain the fimple manner of writing ? It is, fay many authors, that which is likefl to and lead removed from the language of €ommon life. It mufl be, therefore, eafy and ob- •^nous, few or no figures in the exprefCon, nothing obfcure in the fentiments, or involved in the me- thod. Long fcntences arc contrary to it, words
Le£t. 9. ELOQUENCE. 21f>
either difficult or uncommon are inconfiilent with it. Cicero and Horace have both faid, and all critics have faid after them, it is that which, when men hear, thej think that they themfelves could only have faid the fame, or that it is juft a kind of ex- preffion of their own thoughts. Thej generally remai-k further, that it is what feems to be eafy, but yet is not ; as Horace fays, Ut sibi quivis speret iderriy &cc. We may further obferve, that what is truly fimple, always carries in it the idea of being eafy in its production, as ^vell as in imitation ; and indeed the one of thefe feems necefTarily to fuppofe the other. Whatever feems to be the effedt of iludy and much invention, cannot be fimple. It is finely exemplified in the introduction of An- thony's fpeechin Shakefpeare : "I am no orator, as Brutus is," &c. Rollin has given us an admirable example of a ftory told with a beautiful fknplicity, from Cicero's Offices. There is an example alfo in Livy's account of the battle of the Horatii and Curiatii, only with a little more force of expref- fion, as the importance and folenmity of the fub- jecl feemed to require it. But it requires a very mafterly knowledge of the Latin language, to per- ceive the beauties fully, that are pointed at by Rollin in the firil inftancc, or might eafily be men* tioned in the laft. There is no author in our lan- guage who excels more in fimplicity than Addifon, The Spedator, in general, indeed, but efpecially the papers written by him,, excel in this quality, Eafe and elegance are happily joined in them, and nature itfelf, as it were, feems to fpeak in theiiu
U3
230 LECTURES ON Lefl. 9.
If fome of the later periodical writers have equal- led, or even excelled them, in force or elegance^ not one has ever come up to them in fimplicitj.
The fubjefts, or the fpecies of writing in which fimplicitj chiefly fhines, are, narration, dialogue, epiftolary writing, effay writing, and all the light- er fpecies of poetry, as odes, fongs, epigrams, ele- gies, and fuch like. The ancients were remark- able for a love and admiration of iimplicity, and fome of them remain to us as eminent examples of its excellence. Xenophon, in his inftitution of Cyrus, is particularly remarkable for a fweet and dignifled fimplicity. He ufes neither language nor ideas that are difficult and far-fetched. In the fmaller compofitions of the ancients, as odes, epi- grams, &c. they were at prodigious pains to polifh them, and make them quite eafy and natural. They pla(?ed their great glory in beftowing much art, and at the fame time making it to appear quite eafy and artlefs, according to the faying now growTi into a proverb, Artis est celare artem. The beauty of fimplicity may not appear at firft light, or be at all perceived by perfons of a vitiated tafte ; but all perfons of good judgement immediately^ and the bulk of mankind in time, are cliarmed with what is quite eafy, and yet truly accurate and elegant.
It ought to be carefully obferved, that fimplicity is quite a different thing from lownefs and meannefs, and the great art of a writer is to preferve the one, without degenerating into the other. It is the eafiefl thing in the world to fpeak or write viilgarifms, but a perfon of true talle will carefully avoid every thin^
Le£l. 9. ELOQUENCE, 23I
of that kind. For example, one v/ho would vrrite Innplj, and as near the language of plain people in ordinary difcourfe as pofTible, would jet avoid every abfurdity or barbarifm that obtains a place in common converfation, as to fay, " This here table, and that there candle." It is alfo quite con- trary to fimplicity, to adopt the qua,ini expreiTions, or cant phrafes, that are the children of faihion, and obtain for a little, or in fome particular places, and not in others. The . Spe£bator attacked, with ^eat fpirit and propriety, feveral of thofe that were introduced into converfation and writing in his time, fuch as moh, rep, pos, hite^ bamhQO%ley and feveral others. Molt of ihem he fairly defeated, but one or two of them got the better of him, and are now freely iniroduced into the language, fuch as mob, JoLnfon alfo has put bamboozle in his Dic- tionary, which he calls, indeed, a low word. Ar- buthnot is his authority, but it was plainly ufed by him in the way of ridicule ; and therefore it fiiould either not have been in ihe Dictionary at all, or fuch an authority Ihould not have been given for it.
It is exceedingly difficult, and requires an excel- lent judgement, to be able to defcend to great fim- plicity, and yet to keep out every low expreflion or idea. I do not think it is eafy to be a thorough judge of pure didion in any language but our own, and not even in that, without a good deal of the knowledge of human life, and a thorough acquaint- ance with the beft authors. Writers and fpeakers of little judgement are apt at times to go into ex- tremes, to fweli too much on the one hand, and
.23 2 LECTURES ON Le£c. 9.
to fall into what is vulgar and offenfive on the o- ther.
When fpeaking on iimplicity, I obferve, that there is a fimplicity in the tafte and compofition of a whole difcourfe, different from fimplicity of fen- timent and language in the particular parts. This will incline a man to avoid all unneceiTary orna- ment, particularly the ornaments of faftiion, and the peculiar drefs or mode of the times. We fay in architecture, that a building is in a fimple ftyle, when it has not a great multiplicity of ornaments, or is not loaded with beauties, fo to fpeak. It is very remarkable, that books written in the fame aee w^ill differ very much one from another in this re- fpeft ; and thofe which have leafh of the orna- ments then in vogue, continue in reputation when the others are grown ridiculous. I will give you an inllance of this — A fmall religious treatife, Scougal's Life of God in the Soul of Man, which is written with great fimplicity, and yet dignity, and may now be read with pleafure and approba- tion by perfons of the beft tafte ; while mofl: of the other writers of his age and counti'y are ridiculous, or hardly intelligible.
Perhaps it may help us to form right notions of fimplicity, to coiifidijr what are the oppofites, or the greateft enemies to it.
I. One is, abilraclion of fentiment, or too great refinement of any kind ; of this the greateft ex- ample in an author of merit, is the writer of the Rambler ; almoft every page of his writings fur- Diilics us with iiiftances of departure from fimpli-
Lea. 9. ELOQUENCE. 233
city, partly in the fentiment, and partly in the diftlon.
2. Another is, allegory, and efpecially far-fetch- ed allufions, as in the example which the Spectator gives of a poet, who fpeaks of Bacchus' call coat ; this is little better than a riddle ; and even thofe who difcern it, will take a little time to reflet, that according to the heathen mythology, Bacchus was the god of wine ; wine is kept in calks, and therefore an empty cafk, or at leail an ufelefs one, may be called Bacchus' cafl coat.
3. A third enemy to fimplicity is, an affeftation of learning. This fpoils fimplicity many ways ; it introduces terms of art, which cannot be underflood but by thofe who are adepts in a particular branch. Such perfons have been long expofed to ridicule, under the name of pedants. Sometimes, indeed, the word pedantry has been in a manner confined to thofe addicted to claflic literature, and who in- termix every things they fay with fcraps taken from the learned languages ; but this is quite improper, for lawyers, phyficians, dunces, or fchool mailers, are equally ridiculous, when they fill their difcourfe with words drawn from their particular art.
4. The only other enemy to fimplicity I fhall. mention is, an ambition to excel. This, perhap??, ihould not have been fo much divided from the reft, as made the great principle from which the reil proceed. Nothing more certainly renders a man ridiculous, than an over forwardnefs to difplay his excellence ; he is not content v/ith plain things, and particularly wi;h fuch tilings as every body
234 LECTURES OJJ Le£l. 9.
might fay, becaufe thcfe would not diflinguiili him.
On the whole, as I obferved on fublimity, that one of tlie befl and furefl ways to attain it was to think nobly ; fo the befl way to write fimply, is to think fimply, to avoid all alleviation, to attempt to form your manner of thinking to a noble felf-dc- nial. A man little folicitous about what people think of him, or rather having his attention fixed Upon quite another purpofe, viz. giving information, or producing conviftion, will only attain to a fimple manner of writing ; and indeed he will write bell in all refpe6ls.
As to the mixed flyle or manner of writing, as it confills of the mixture of the other two, I fliali not need to fay any thing by way of explaining it, but only make a remark or two, of the ufe and application of it. The mixed kind of writing chiefly confifts of hiftory and controverfy. The great quality neceflary to execute it properly, is foundnefs of judgement, to determine on what fub- je6ls, and on what parts of fubjeiSls, it is proper to write with iimplicity, and on w^hat with force ; one would wifh ntot to go beyond, but juft to gra, tify a reader's inclination in this refpeft.
There are many cafes in hiftory, where the greateft fublimity both of fentiments and language is both admitted and required -, particularly all the beauty and all the force that can be admitted into defcription, is of importance in hiftory. Thofe who will read, in Robertfon's Hiftory of Scotland, the account he gives of the aftonifliment, terror, and indignation, that appeared in the Englifti
Lea. 9. ELOQUENCE. 235
court, * when news was brought of the maflacre at Paris, or, in the fame author, the account of the execution of Marj Queen of Scots, will fee the force and fublimity of defcription. The difference between fublimitj of fentimcnt and language in an hiftorian, and in a poet or orator, feems to me to refemble the difference between the fire of a ma- naged horfe, when reined in by the rider, and marching with a firm and ftately pace, and the fame when flraining every nerve in the eager con- tention in a race. We ihall enter a little into this matter, if we confidcr the different images that are made ufe of in the different arts. In poetry we fay, a beautiful, ftriking, fhining metaphor, fer- vent, glowing imagery- In oratory w^e fay, warm, animated, irrefiftible. In hiftory we ufe the words force, noblenefs, dignity, and majefly, particular- ly thofe lafl attributes of dignity and majelly. He- rodotus has been often called the father of hiflory, though, I confefs, I apprehend he has obtained this title chiefly becaufe of his antiquity, and Ins being the firft that ever gave any thing of a regu- lar hiftory ; but though he has fome things augufl enough, yet he has admitted fo many incredible llories, and even peculiarities into his work, ns very much detracts from its dignity ; we muff, in- deed, impute a good deal of this to the age in which he lived, and the impoffibUity of their dif- tinguiihing truth from falfehood, fo well as thofe of later ages, who have had the advantage of all pall experience.
Hiftory, indeed, is not only of the mixed kind of writing, fo as to admit fometimes fublimity, and
236 LECTURES ON Left. 9.
fometlmes (implicity, but thofe ftyles fliould be real- ly blended together, in every part of it. The mofl noble and animated fentiments, charafters, or defcrip- tions in hiftory, Ihould yet be cloathed with fuch a gravity and decency of garb, fo to fpeak, as to give an air of fimplicity to the whole. It is an advantage to a poem, that the author fays but little in his own perfon, but makes the charafters fpeak and fay all ; and in an orator it is an advantage, when he can carjry the hearers off from himfelf to his fub- je£t ; but above all, an hiftorian fliould not fo much as wi{h to fhine, but, with the coolnefs of a philofo- pher, and the impartiality of a judge, fliould fet the a6lors and tranfadions before the reader.
Controverfy is another fubj eel of the mixed kind, which ought to be in general written with fimplicity, yet will fometimes admit of the ornaments of elo- quence : of this I fhall fpeak a little more after- wards, and therefore fhall now only add, that con- troverfy differs from hiflory, in that it fometimes admits of pafTion and warmth, when there feems to be a fufficient foundation laid for it ; a controverfial WTiter will endeavour to iutereft his reader, and excite either contempt or indignation againfl his ad- verfary.
After having given you this view of the three great kinds of writing, or, as they are fometimes called, different flyles, it may not be amifs to ob- ferve, that there are diflinftions of ftyle, which it is proper that an able waiter fhould obferve, that do not range themfelves, at leafl not fully and properly, under thefe three heads, but may be faid to run through all the kinds of eloquence.
Lecl. 9. ELOQUENCE. 237
Many eminent authors have faid, that the climates have fome efTea upon the flyle ; tliat in the warmer countries the flyle is more animated, and the figures more bold and glowing : and nothing is more com- mon, than to afcribe a peculiarity of ftyle, and that particularly elevated and full of metaphor, to the orientals, as if it belonged to that part of the globe. But if I am not miflaken, both this and other things, fuch as courage, that have been attributed to the climate, belong either not to the climate at all, or 111 a fmall meafure, and are rather owing to the ilate of fociety and manners of men. We have before had occafion to fee that all narrov/ languages are figu- red. In a flate where there are few or no abflrad ideas, how fhould there be abflrad terms ? If any body will read the poem of Fingal, which appears to have been compofed on the bleak hills of the north of Scotland, he will find as many figures, and as bold, as in any thing compofed in Arabia or Perfia. The flate of fociety, then, is what gives a particular colour to the flyle , and by this the flylesof different ages and countries are diftinguifhed. That the climate does but little, may be feen j ufl by compar- ing ancient and modern Italy; what difference between the flrength and force of the ancient Latin tongue, and the prefent Italian language, in the exprefTion of fentiments I It mufl therefore vary with fentiments and manners; and what difference between the flern and inflexible bravery of a free ancient Roman, and the effeminate foftnefs of a modern Italian I vet they brsathed the fame air, and were nurfed by the fame foil. I will jufl go a little off frpm the fub- Vou VII. X
238 LECTURES ON Le*^:. 9.
je6l to fay, that a very late author (Lord Karnes) feems to think that the courage of mankind is go- verned by the climates ; he fays, that the northern climates produce hardened conftitutions, and bold and firm minds ; that invafions have been made from north to fouth : but, I apprehend, he may be miftaken here, both in his fa6ts and the reafons of them. — Invafions have not always been made from north to fouth : for the Roman arms penetrated very far to the north of their territory ; the firfl great conquerors of the eafl in Egypt and Babylon car- ried their arms to the north : and where the conqueft ran the other wa}", it was owing to other circum- itances ; and Dean Swift fays, much nearer the truth, it was from poverty to plenty.
The defign of this digreflion is to fliow, that not only the circumftances that appear in a language, but feveral bthers that have alfo been attributed to climate, owe very little to it, but to the ftate of man- kind and the progrefs of fociety. The maxim of that great modern writer, Montefquieu, which he applies to population, is alfo true of language— that natural caufes are not by far fo powerful as moral caufes. Allowing, therefore, as fome have afBrmed, that the northern climates may give a roughnefs and harfhnefs to the accent and pronuncia- tion, I believe it is all that we can expe6l from climate ; the diflinftion of flyles and compofition mufl come from another original.
Lea. 10. ELOQUENCE. 23f
LECTURE X.
HAVING in a great meafure rejefted the fup^ pofition of the ftjle in writing being afFedcd hy the climate, and fhown that it rather takes its colour from the ftate of fociety, and the fentiments and manners of men, it follows, tliat all the great diilinftions that take place in manners will have a correfpondent efFe£l upon language fpoken or writ- ten. When the manners of a people are little po- lifhed, there is a plainnefs or a roughnefs in the lljle. Abfolute monarchies, and the obfequious fubje£lion introduced at the courts of princes, oc- cafions a pompous fwelling and compliment to be in requeft, different fram the boldnefs and fome- times ferocity of republican ftates.
Seneca, in remarking upon the Roman language, fays. Genus dicefidi 7nutatur per puhlicos moresy Sec. This he exemplifies in the Roman language, which was fhort and dry in the earlieft ages, after- wards became elegant and ornate, and at lafl loofe and diffufe.
The flyle of an age alfo is fometimes formed by fome one or more eminent perfons, who, having obtained reputation, every thing peculiar to them is admired and copied, and carried much into excefs. Seneca has remarked this alfo, that commonly one author obtains the palm, and becomes the model, and all copy him. Hccc vitia unus aliquis inducit^ And he gives a very good example of it, of which ;we may now judge in Salluft. He alfo very pro-
X2
2"4^ LECTURES ON Left. I©.
perly obferves, that all the faults that arife from imitation become worfe in the imitator than in the example : thus reproving^the fault jufl: now men- tioned in our anceilors.
It is remarkable that Seneca himfelf was another example of the fame thing. His manner of wTi- ting, which is peculiar, came to be the llandard of the age. His manner has been called by critics, point, and antitheiis ; — a fliort fentence containing a ilrong fentiment, or a beautiful one, as it were, like a maxim by itfelf. For an example or two of this : To exprcfs the definition of Lyons, he fays, Liigdumim quod ostendehatur, &:c. That Lyons, which v/as formerly fhown, is now fought. And on the fame fubjeft, — Una nox, &:c. There was but one night between a great city and none, ^uid! est eques Rom anus, &.c. What ! is a Roman knight a freed man or ilave ? names generated by ambition or oppreffioa.
The fault of this fententious manner of writing does not lie in the particulars being blameable, but in the repetition and uniformity becoming tedious ; —when every paragraph is flulFed with fentences and bright fayings, generally having the fame tune, it wearies the ear. The moil remarkable book in the Englifli language for putting continual fmart- nefs, fentence, and antithefis, for elegance, is the Gentleman Inftrufted. I fnall read you one para- graph—" The miiyfortune of one breathes vigour into the others : They carry on manfully the attack. Their heads run round with the glalles. Their tongues ride poll. Their wits are jaded. Their reafon is diilanccd. Brutes could not talk better.
Left. 10. ELOQUEN-CE. 141
nor men worfe. Like fl^ippers in a ftomi, they rather hallooed than fpoke. Scarce one heard his neighbour, and not one uuderflood him ; fo that noife flood for fenfe, and every one pafled for a virtuofo, becaufe all played the fool to extravagance."
I fhall not enlarge much farther upon the differ- ence of ftyle arifino from the characler of an age, as in the ages before the Reformation, called the times of chivalry, when military prowefs vas the great thing in rcqueft — their gallantry and heroifm were to be feen in every writer. — At the time of the Re- formation and the revival of learning, their cita- tions of the ancient writers and allufions to tlie clafTic phrafes diftinguifhed every author. In the age of the civil wars in England, of which religion was fo much the caufe, allufions to lingular expreffions and theological opinions, are every where to be met with, of which the great Milton is an example.
But there is another diftinftion of llyles, which is chiefly pcrfonal, and will dilHnguiih one author from another, in the fame age, and perhaps of the fame or nearly the fame abilities. There are feve- ral different epithets given to ftyle in our languao-e, which I Ihall mention in a certain order, which I fuppofe will contribute fomething to explain the meaning of them. We call a ftj^le, fimple or plain, fmooth, fweet, concife, elegant, ornate, juft, nervous, chafle, fevere. Thefe are all different epithets which will each of them convey to a nice critical ear fomething different ; though I confefs it is not eafy to define them clearly, or explain them fully. Plainnefs and fimplicity is, when the author does
■X3
24^ LECTURES ON Le6t. 10.
not feem to have had any thhig in view, but to .-be underflood, and that by perfons of the v/eakeft un- derftanding. That ought to be in view in many writings, and indeed perfpicoity will be found to be a chara£ler of many ftyles, when there are other great qualities ; but we call that plain and fmiple, when there is no difcovery of literature, and no attempt at the pathetic. Seougal's Life of God in the Soul of Man, and Dr Evans's Sermons, are ad- mirable patterns of tliis mar.ner. 2. I would call that a fmooth ftyle, when the utmoft care had been taken to meafure the periods, and to confult the ear on the ftrufture of the fentence ; for this 1 know no author more remarkable than Hervey, in his Meditations, 3. Sweetnefs feems to me to differ from the former only in that the fubjefls and the images are generally of a pleafmg or footliing na- ture, fuch as may particularly be feen in Mrs Rowe's Letters; perhaps alfo in a m-ore modem compofition by a lady. Lady Mary V/. Montague's Letttrs. And indeed v^^hen female authors have excelled, they generally do excel in fweetnefs. 4. The fiext is coiicifenefs. This is eafily underflood ; A is juft as much brevity as is confiflent with perfpicuity. It is a beauty in every writing, when other qualities are not hurt by it. But it is peculiarly proper for critical or fcleutific writing, becaufe there we do not fo much expeft or want to know the author's fentimcnts,,but as foon as poilible to learn the fafts, to understand them fully, and range them metho- dically. There are many more authors who excel in this refped in the French, than in the Engli(h language. Not tlie fgicatific writings, but tivea
Leci. 10. ELOQUENCE. 243
political and moral writings, are drawn up "by tliera with great concifenefs. There cannot be greater concifenefs than in Montefquieu's Spirit of Laws. Brown's Eftimate of the Manners and Principles of the Times, feems to be an imhation of that au- thor in his manner. In elTaj-WTiting, D3\Hd Hanie feems to have as happily joined concifenefs and per- fpicuity as moft of our Engliib writers. Some pious writers have been as faccefsful this way as moil of our nation ; fuch as Mafon's Sayings, and Tvlafon on Self-knowled.;e. c. A ftyle is called elegant, when it is formed by the principles of true taile, -and much pains is taken to ufe the beft and pureft exprelHons that the language will afford. It is very common to join together eafs and elegance. The great patterns we have of thefe are Addifon and Tillotfon. Seed's Scniions, too, may be men- tioned here, as very much excelling in both thefe qualities ; fo alfo does David Hume. The other Hume, author of the Elements of Criticifm, though a very good judge ox writing, feems in point of ftyle to be very deieclive himfelf. If he has any talent, it is concifenefs and plainnefs -^ but he is at the fame time often abrupt and harlh. 6. An ornate llyle may be fai J to be fomething more than elegsnt, introducing into acompofition all the beau- ties of language, where they can fmd a place with propriety. I mendoned before, that Hervey's ftyle^ in his Meditations, w^as exceedingly fmooih and fiowing. I may add, it has alfo the qualities of elegant and ornate. That ftjle is elegant which is correct and free from faults ; that is ornate w^hicji •bounds with bijautics. 'j. The next cbaradlor
^44 LECTURES oy Le6l. lO.
of ftjle is, fhat it is jufl. By this I underftand, a particular attention" to the truth and meaning of every expreiTion. Juftnefs is frequently joined with, or othcrwife exprefTed by precifion ; fo that, (if I may fpeak fo), together with a tafte which will relifh and produce an elegance of language, there is a judgement and accuracy which will abide the fcnitiny of philofophy and criticifm. Many well- turned periods and ihowy expreffions will be found defev51:ive here. This jullnefs of ftyle is fcarcely ever fouhd without cleaniefs of underftanding, fo that it appears in accuracy of method, in the whole difcourfe, as well as in the flyle of particular parts. Dr Samuel Clark was a great example of this« He was one of thbfe few mathematicians who were good writers, and, while he did not lofe the life and fervour of the orator, preferved the precifion of the natural philofopher. 8. Nervous or ftrong, is the next character of ftyle; and this implies that in which the author does not wholly negle^l elegance und precifion. But he is much more attentive to dignity and force. A ftyle that is very ftrong and nervous, might often receive a little additional polifh by a few more epithets or copulatives, but cannot defcend to fuch minutenefs. It is a fine expreflion of Richard Baxter, upon ftyle, " May I fpeak plai]ily and pertinently, and fomewhat nervoufly, T have my purpofe." Baxter was a great ex- ample of a nei*vous ftyle, with great negleft of ele- gance; and Dean Swift is an illuftrious example of- the fame fort of di£lion, with a very confiderable attention to elegance. Both the one and the other feem to write in the fulnefs of their hearts "; and to
Lefl. 10. ELOQUENCE. 24^
me without fcruple thofe terms arc commonly beft, that firft prefeiit ihemielves t(5 a fertile invention and warm imagination, without waiting to choofe in their room thole that might be more fmooth or Ibnorous, but lefs emphatic. 9. Chaftity of ftyle, I think, ftands particularly oppofed to any embellilb- meuts that are not natural and necelTary. Nay, we generally mean by a very chafte writer, one who does not admit even all the ornaments that he might, and what ornaments he does admit are al- ways of the moft decent kind, and the moil pro- perly executed. 10. Severity of ftyle has this title only by way of comparifon. That is a fevere ftyle which has propriety, elegance, and force, but feems rather to be above and to difdain the orna- ments which every body elfe would approve, aijci the greateft piirt of readers would deftre.
LECTURE XI.
T^^E come now to the third general head, ^ ^ which was, to fpeak of oratory as it is divid- ed into the feveral parts which conftitute the art. Tliefe have been generally tlie following, inven- tion, difpofition, ftyle or compofition, pronunciation, including gefture.
1 . Invention. This is nothing elfe but fmding out tlie fentiments by which a fpeaker or writer would explain wha-t he has to propofe, and the arguments by which he would enforce it. This fubje^l is treated of very largely, in moft of the books
t^6 LECTURES ON Led. II.
of oratory, In which I think they judge very wrong,' In by far the greateft number of cafes, there is no neceffity of teaching it ; and where it is neceflary, I believe it exceeds the power of man to teach it with efre<a:. The very firft time, indeed, that a young perfon begins to compofe, the thing is fo new to him, that it is apt to appear dark and difficult, and in a manner impofiible. But as foon as he becomes » little accuftomed to it, he finds much more difficulty in felecting what is proper, than in inventing fome- thing that feems to be tolerable. There are fome perfons, I confefs, whom their own ilupidity, or that of their relations, forces to attempt public fpeaking, who are entirely barren, and not able to bring out any thing either good or bad ; but this is exceedingly rare, and when it does happen, it will be fo burdenfome to the man himfelf, that he muft fpeedily give over the attempt. There are infinite- ly more who have plenty of matter, fuch as it is, but neither very valuable in itfclf, nor cloathed in proper language. I think it happens very general- ly that thofe who are leaft concife and accuiate, are moft lengthy and vokiminouSi
I will therefore not fpend much time upon in- vention, leaving it to the fpontaneous produ6lion of capacity and experience ; only obferve, that it is called a common place, from whence you draw your argument. That principle of law, nature, tafte, experience, from which you fetch yom* topic, and apply it to your particular cafe, is a common place ; as for example, if I want to prove that a ftridl: difcipline in a fociety is bed, I fay, that dif- cipliae which will iu the moll eflre6lual manner
Lea. II, ELOQUENCE. t^J
reftrain ofFences is certainlj the beft ; this is the topic, or common place.
It would be needlefs to point out the fources of invention, or fhow from whence arguments may be drawn, for they may be drawn from all the charac- ters and qualities of an a6lion or perfon, and from all the circumftances that accompany it. If I mean to aggravate a crime or injury, I fay it was done deliberately, obftinately, repeatedly, -without temptation, againfl many warnings, and much kiud- nefs ; that its efFefts are very bad to a man's felf, tp others, to the charadler, the perfon, the eftate, &cc. If I want to fpeak in praife of a free government, I mention its happy effects in giving fecurity and happinefs, promoting induftry, encom-aging genius, producing value ; and then I apply to experience, and ihow the happinefs of free Hates, and the mi- fery of thofe that have been kept in flavery : but I repeat the remark, that invention need not be taught, unlefs it be to one that never yet compofed a fentence. There have been books of common places publiihed, containing arguments and topics for illuftration, and even fimilitudes, fayings of the ancients, &.c. but they are of ver\- little ufe, unlefs to a perfon that has no fund of his own, and then one that makes ufe of them is like a man walking on ftilts ; they make him look very big, but he \valks very feebly.
2. The next divifion of the oratorial art, is dif- pofition or diilribution. This is a matter of the utmoil moment, and upon which inftru61:ion is both neceifary and ufeful. By difpofidon as a part of the oratorial art, I mean order in general, in the
114^ LECTURES ON Left.
II,
whole of a difcourfe, or any kind of compo- fition, be it what it will. As to the parts of which afingle fpeech or oration confifts, they will be after- wards confidered. Before I proceed to explain or point out the way to attain good order, I would jufl mention a few of its excellencies.
(i.) Good order in a difcourfe gives light, and makes it eafily underftood. If things are thrown together -without method, each of them will be lefs underftood, and their joint influence in leading to a concluiion will not be perceived. It is a noble expreflion of Horace, who calls it lucidus ordoy clear order. It is common to fay, w^hen v/e hear a con- fufed difcourfe, " It had neither head nor tail, I could not underftand what he would be at."
(2.) Order isneceftary to force, as well as light. This indeed is a neceftary confequence of the other, for we Ihall never be perfuaded by what we do not underftand. Very often the force of reafoning depends upon the united influence of feveral diftin6t propofitions. If they are ranged in a juft order, they will all have their effect, and fupport one another ; if otherwife, it will be like a number of men attempting to raife a weight, and one pulling at one time, and another at another, which will do juft notliing; but if all exert their power at once, it will be eafily overcome.
(3.) Order is alfo ufeful for aftifting memory. Order is neceflfary even in a difcourfe that is to ha\'€ a tranfient effect ; but if any thing is intended to pro- duce a lafting conviction, and to have a dally in- fluence, it is ftill more neceflJarj'-. When things are difpofe:! in a proper order, the fame concatenation
Led. II. ELOQUENCE. ^4^
that is in the difcourfe, takes place in the memory, fo that when one thing is remembered, it immediate- ly brings to remembrance what has an eafy and obvious connexion with it. The affbciation of ideas linked together by any tie is very remarkable iu our conftitmion, and is fuppofed to take place from fome impreffion made upon the brain. If we have feen two perfons but once, and feen them both at the fame time only, or at the fame place only, the remembrance of the one can hardly be feparated from the other. I may alfo illuftrate the fubjed. by another plain inftance. Suppofe I defire a per- fon going to a city, to do three or four things for me that are wholly linconneded, as to deliver a letter to one perfon — to \'iiit a friend of mine, and to bring me notice how he is — to buj^ a certain book - for me, if he can find it — and to fee whether any fhip be to fail for Britain foon, — it is very poffiblehe may remember fome of them, and forget the others ^ but if I defire him to buy me a dozen of iilver fpoons, to carry them to an engraver to put my name upon them, and get a cafe to put them in, if he remembers one article, it is likely he will re- member all of them. It is one of the beft evidences that a difcourfe has been compofed with diilinftnefs and accuracy, if after you go away you can remem- ber a good -deal of it ; but there are fometimes dif- courfes which are pompous and declamatory, and which you hear with pleafure, and fome fort of ap- probation, but if you attempt to recollect the truths advanced, or the alignments in fupport of them, there is not a trace of tlic.n to be found. Vol. VII. y
2 so LECTURES ON Led'. 11.
(4.) Order conduces alfo very much to beauty. Order Is i^ever omitted when men give the princi- ples of beauty, and coufufion is difgufled jufl on its own account, whatever the nature of the confufed things may be. If you were to fee a vail heap of fine furniture of different kinds lying in confufion> you could neither perceive half fo diftinftly what was there, nor could it at all have fuch an effeft, as if every thing was difpofed in a juft order, and pla- ced where it ought to fland ; nay, a much fmaller quantity, elegantly difpofed, would exceed in gran- deur of appearance a heap of the moll collly things in nature.
(5.) Order is alfo neceflary to brevity. A con- fufed difcourfe is almoll never fhort, and is always jfilled with repetitions. It is with thought in this refpe£l, as with things viiible, for, to return to the former fimilitude, a confufed heap of goods or furni- ture fills much more room than when it is ranged and claffed in its proper order, and every thing carried to its proper place.
Having Ihown the excellence of precifion and me- 4hod, let us next try to explain what it is ; and that J may have fome regard to method while I am fpeaking of the very fubjeft, I fhall take it in three lights: I. There muft be an attention to order in the difpofition of the whole piece. Whatever the parts be in themfelves, they have alfo a relation to one another, and to the whole body, (if I may fpeak .io), that they are to compofe. Every work, be it xvhat it will, hiflory, epic poem, dramatic poem, oration, epiflle, or efiay, is to be confidered as a whole ; and a clearnefs of judgement in point of
Led. II. £LOQU£NCE. 251
method, will decide the place and proportion of the feveral parts of which they are compofed. The loofeft elTay, or where form is lea ft pro fe (Ted or ftudied, ought yet to have fome fhape as a whole j and we may fay of it, that it begins abruptly or ends abruptly, or fome of the parts are mifplr.ced. There are often to be feen pieces in which good things are faid, and well faid, and have only this fault, that they are unfeafonable and out of place. Horace fays, in his Art of Poetry, what is equally applicable to every fort of compofition, Dcnique sit quod vis simp/ex duntaxat et unum ; and fhortly after, Infelix operis summay quia ponere totum riesczet»
This judgment in planning the whole, will par- ticularly enable a perfon to determine both as to the place and proportion of the particular parts, whether they be not only good in themfelves, but lit to be introduced in fuch a work j and it will alfo (if I may fpeak fo) give a colour to the whole compofition. The neceility of order in the whole ftrudlure of a piece, {hows that the rule is good which is given, by fome, that an orator, before he begin his dif- courfe, fliould concentrate the fubjedt as it were, and reduce it to one fingle propofition, either exprefTed, or at leaft conceived in his mind. Every thing fhculd grow out of this as its root, if it be in another principle to be explained ; or refer to this as its end, if it be a point to be gained by perfuafion. Ha- ving thus ftated the point clearly to be handled, it will afford a fort of criterion whether any thing ad- duced is proper or improper. It wiD fuggeft the topics that are jufl and fuitable, as'well as enable Y2
252 LECTURES ON Left. II.
US to rejed whate-er is in fubftancc improper, or in lize difproportionate to the defign. Agreeably to this principle, I think, that not only the fubjed of a fingle dlfcourfe iliould be reduceable to one pro- portion, but the general diviiions or principal heads Ihould not be many in number. A great number of general heads both burdens the memory, and breaks the unity of-the fubjed, and carries the idea of fevcral little difcourfes joined together, or to fal- low after one another.
2. Ofder is necelTary in the fubdivifions of a fub- je£t, or the way of ftating and marlhalling of the feveral portions of any general head. This is ap- plicable to all kinds of compolition^ and all kinds of oratory, fermons, law- pleadings, fpeeches. There is always a divifion of the parts, as well as of the whole, either expreli'ed formally and numerically, or fuppofed, though fuppreffed. And it is as much here as any where, that the confulion of inaccurate writers and fpeakers appears. It is ahvays necef- fary to have fome notion of the wliole of a piece ; and the larger divinons being more bulky, (fo to fpeak), difpofitioninthemismore eafily perceived; but in the finailer, both their order aiid liz.e is m danger of being Icfs attended to. Obferve, there- fore, that to be accurate and jull, the fubdivifions of any con^spofition, fuch I mean as are (for exam- ple) introduced in a numerical feries, i, 2, 3, &.c. lliould have the following properties.
(t.) They Ihould be clear and plain. Every thing indeed fliculd be clear as far as he can make it, but precifion and diftindnefs Ihould efpecially appear in the fubdivifions, juft as the bounding lines
Le6l. II. ELOQUENCE. 2^^f
of countries in a map. For this reafon the firfl part of a fabdivifion fliould be alike, a fhort deli- nition, and, when it can be done, it isbeft exprefled in a lingle term ; for example, in giving the charac- ter of a man of learning, I maj propofe to fpeak of his genius, his erudition, his induftry or applica- tion.
(2.) They fiiould be truly diflin£l ; that is, every body fliould perceive that they are really different from one another, not in phrafe or word only, but in fentiment. If you praife a man firft for his judgement, and then for his underftanding, they are either altogether or fo nearly the fame, or fo nearly allied, as not to require diftinclion. I have heard a minifter, on John, x\di. 11." Holy Fa- ther," 8ic. in fliowing how God keeps his people, fay, 1. He keeps their feet : ** He fhall keep thy- feet from falling." 2. He keeps their w^ay : " Thou Ihalt keep him in all his ways." Now, it is plain^ that thefe are not two different things, but two me- taphors for the fame thing. This indeed was faulty alfo in another refpeft ; for a metaphor ought not to make a divifion at all.
(3.) Subdiviiions fhould be neceifary^, that i.s to fay, taking the word in tlie loofe and popular fenfe, the fubjeft fhould feem to demand them. To multiply divifions, et^en where they may be made really difiincl, is tedious, and difguflful, un. lefs where they are of ufe and importance to our clearly comprehending the meaning, or feeling the force of what is faid. If a perfon, in the map of a country^ Ihould give a different colour to every
Y3
254' LECTURES ON Left. II.
three miles, though the equality of the proportion would make the divifion clear enough, yet it would appear difguftingly fuperfluous. la writing the hiftorj of an eminent perfon's life, to divide it into fpaces of ten years, perhaps, would make the view of the whole more exa6b ; but to di- vide it into fingle years or months, would be fini- cal and difagreeabie. The increafe of divifions leads almoll unavoidably into tedioafnefs.
(4.) Subdivifions fhould be co-ordinate ; that is to fay, thofe that go on in a feries, i, 2,3,. &c. fhould be as near as pofTible fimilar, or of the fame kind. This rule is tranfgreffed, when either the things mentioned are wholly different in kind, or when they include one another. This will be well perceived, if we confider how a man would defcribe a fcnfible fubje61, a county for example y New-Jerfey contains, i. Middlefex. 2. So- merfet county. 3. The townfhips of Prince- ton. 4. Morris county. So, if one, in defcribing the charafter of a real Chriftian,. fliould fay, faith,, holinefs^ chai^ty, juftice, temperance, patience, this, would not do, becaufe holinefs includes juftice, &^c.. When, tiierefore, it feems necelTary to mention different particulars that cannot be made co-ordi- nate, they iliould be made fubordinate.
(5.) Sub-divifions fhould be complete^ and ex- hauil the fubjecft. This, indeed, is common to all civiiions, but is of moH importance here, where it is mofl negleded. It may be faid, perhaps. How can we propofe to exhaufl any fubjeft ? By ma- king the divifions fuitable, particularly in point of comprehenfion, to the nature of the fubjeft i as aa
Le£b. II. ELOQUENCE. 2j5
example, and to make ufe of the image "before in- troduced, of giving an account of a country, I ma^r faj, the province of Nevv-Jerfey confilis of two parts, Eaft and Weft Jerfey. If I faj it coiilifts of the counties of Someriet, &.c. I muft continue till I have enumerated all the counties, otherwife the divifion is not complete. In the fame man- ner, in public fpeaking, or any other- compolition,^ whatever divifion is made, ii is not legitimate, if it does not include or exhauft the whole fubjeft j which may be done, let it be ever fo great. For example : True religion may be divided various ways, fo as to include the whole j I niay fay, that it confifts of our duty to G<xl, our iK;ighbour, and ourfelves ; or, I may make but two, our duty ta God and man, and divide the lail into two fubor- dinate heads, our neighbour, and oiirielves ; or, I may fay, it confifts of faith and praftice ; or, that it confiUs of two parts, a right frame and temper of mind, and a good life and converfation.
(6.) Lallly, the fubdivifions of any fubjeiS: fhould be connefted, or iliould be taken in a feries- or order, if they will pofubly admit of it. In fome moral and intellectual fubjects, it may not be eafy to find any feries or natural order, as in an enumera- tion of virtues, juftice, temperance, and fortitude* Patience, perhaps, might as well be enumerated in any other order ; yet there is often an order that will appear natural, and the inverfion of it unna- tural ; as we may fay, injuries are done many ■ways to a man's perfon, charafter, and poffeffions. Love to others includes the relation of family, kin- dred, citizeniJ countrymen, IcIIqw- creatures.
aj^ LECTURES ON Left. 11.
3. In the lafl place, there is alfo an order to "be obferved in the fentiments, which makes the illuftratioH or amplification of the divifions of a difcourfe. This order is never exprefled bj nume- rical divifions, yet it is of great importance, and its beauty and force will be particularly felt. It is, if I may fpeak fo, of a finer and more delicate na- ture than any of the others, more various, and harder to explain, I once have faid, that all rea- foning is of the nature of a fyllogifm, which lays down principles, makes comparifons, and draws the conclufion. But we mufl particularly guard againll letting the uniformity and formality of a fyllogifm appear. In general, whatever eftablifhes any connection, fo that it makes the fentiments give rife to one another, is the occafion of order ; fome- times neceffity and utility point out the order as a good meafure : As in telling a ftory, grave or hu- morous, you muft begin by defcribing the perfons concerned, mentioning juft as many circumftances of their charafter and fituation as are neceflary to make us underftand the fafts to be afterwards re- lated. Sometimes the fenfible ideas of time and place fuggeft an order, not only in hiflorical narra- tions, and in law-pleadings, which relate to fa61s, but in drawing of charafters, defcribing the pro- grefs and efiefts of virtue and vice, and even in other fabje6ts, where the connexion between thofe ideas and the thing fpoken of is not very ftroAg. Sometimes, and indeed generally, there is an order which proceeds from things plain, to things ob- fcure. The beginning of a paragraph fliould be like the Iharp point of a wedge, which gains ad*
LeCl. II. ELOQUENCE. 257
mittance to the bulky part behind. It firft affirms what every body feels, or muit confefs, and pro-* ceeds to what follows as a necellary conieqiience. In fine, there is an order in perfuaiion to a particu- lar choice, which may be taken two ways with" equal advantage, proceeding from the weaker to ilie flronger, or from the flronger to the weaker : As in recommending a pious and virtuous life, we may firil fay it is amiable, honourable, pleafant, profitable, even in ihe prefent life ; and, to crown all, makes death iifelf a friend, and leads to a glo- licus immortality : or, we may begin the other way, and fay it is the one thing needful, that eter- nity is the great and decifive argument that fliould determine our choice, though everj thing elfe were in favour of vice ; and then add, that even in the prefent life, it is a great miitake to J:hink that bad men are gainers, &Ci This is called fometimes the afcending and defc ending climax. Each of them has its beauty and ufe. It mufl be left tO the orator's judgement to determine which of tha two is either fitteft for the prefent purpofe, or which he finds himfelf at that time jible to o^ecute to th» greatefl advantage.
LECTURE XII.
THE next branch of this divifion, is ftyle, or compofition'. This, which is fo great a par^ of the fubjcd, has already been confidered in x>ne view, under {he three ^reat kinds of writing, and
^5^ LECTURES ON Left. 1 2-.
will again be mentioned under the two following heads, as well as the remarks at the clofe : yet I will drop a few hints upon it in this place.
I. It is neceffary that a writer or fpeaker fhould be well acquainted with the language in which he fpeaks ; its charafters, properties, and defefts, its idioms, or peculiar terms and phrafes, and likewife with as many other languages as poflible, particu- larly fuch as are called the learned languages, the Latin and Greek. Our own language is the Eng- lifh. A thorough acquaintance with it mail be acquired by extcnfive reading in the beft authors^ giving great attention to the remarks made by cri- tics of judgement and erudition, and trying it our- felves in practice. Our language, like moft of the northern languages, is rough, w4th a frequent meeting of confonants, difficult of pronunciation ; it abounds in monofyllables. You may write a whole page, and fcarce ufe one word that has more than one fyllable ; this is a defeft, and to be avoid- ed when it can be done confiftently with other pro- perties, particularly fimplicity and perfpicuity. Our language is faid to have an over proportion of the letter j-, and therefore called a biffing lan- guage. This a writer of judgement will endeavom* to avoid, w^henever he can do it with propriety and elegance. A thorough acquaintance with the genius and idioms of our own language, can fcarcely be attained without fome acquaintance with others, l)ecaufe it is comparifon of one with another which illuftrates all. There are not only fmaller diffe- rences between one language and another, but there are fome general difference sin the arrangement of
Lq^, 12. ELOQUENCE. 259
words, in the ancient and modern languages : in the Greek and Latin, the governed words are pretty- generally before the verb. It is a miflake for us to fay, that the Englifti order is the natural order, as fome have done. It is certain that they ai'e either both alike natural and equally obvious, when once cuftom has fixed them, or that the ancient order is the more natural of the two. There are two things, the adion and the object, to be conjoined j and it is fully as proper to turn your attention firfl to the obje6t, before you tell what you are to fay of it, or what you would have done with it, as after. Istud scalpellum quod in maim babes y commoda mihipaulisper^ si placet: and in longer and more involved fentences, the fufpending the fentiment for fome time till it be completed, is both more pleafing and more for- cible. Our own language admits of a little tranfpofi- tion, and becomes grander and more fonorous by it, both in poetry and profe.
2. We may attend to the arrangement of the claufes of a fentence, and their proportion and found. Every fentence may be coniidered as having fo many claufes or members, \>^hieh have, each of them, fome meaning, but which is not complete till it is clofed. Every fentence is capable of receiving fome degree of harmony, by a proper ftrudure ; this it receives when the moft important ideas, and the moft fonorous exprelTions, occupy the chief places ; but what, you will fay, are the chief places ? We naturally, fays an eminent French author on this fubjedl, love to prefent our moft interefting ideas firft ; but this order, which is didtated by felf- love, is contrary ♦to wha: we are dircfted to by the
16C> LECTURES ON Left. 12.
art of pleaflng. The capital law of this art, is to prefer others to oiirfelves, and therefore the mofl ilriking and interefting ideas come with the greateft beauty, as well as force, in the clofe. Where the difference does not lie in the ideas, the words or phrafes that are moft long and fonorous ought to be fo diftinguifhed ; this rule, however, will admit fome exception, when we are to perfuade or inftruft, for we muft never feem to have fweetnefs and cadence chiefly in view.
The rule of placing in a fentence the moft im- portant ideas and exprefFions laft.. was taken notice of by ancient writers. I?i verbis obser'vandum est^ fays one of them, ut a majoribus ad minus descejidat uratio, melius enim dicetur^ mr est optimus, quam "jir optimus est. Sometimes feveral monofyllables ter- minate a fentence well enoughj becaufe in pronun- ciation they run into one, and feem to the hearers little different from a lingle word. It is an obfer- vation, that the ear itfelf often directs to the rule upon this fubjedl. Some French critics obferve, that fome fyllables in their language which are ufually fliort, are produced in the end of a fentence ; for inftance, ^e suis votre servitcur Monsieur ^ je suis le voire ; where votre is fliort in the firft fentence, and long in the fecond ; and I believe the fame thing would happen in tranflating that fentence literally into Engliih.
The harmony of fentcnces is preferved cither by a meafured proportion, or regular gradation of the claufes : Cicero fays upon this fubjeft. Si f?i^mbra^ &:c. In every fentence confifting of two members only, every body's ear will make them fenftble,
I
Lcc\:. 12. ELOQUENCE. 26 1 '
that the lail claufe after the paufe of the voice ought to belongeft; as in Shakcfpeare, " But yefterdaj," Sec. In longer fentences there muft be a greater varie- ty, and feveral caufes mull: contribute to determine the length of the ciaufes ; but it is plain, the laft muft be longer than the preceding ; and fometimes a regular gradation of more than two ciaufes has a very happy efFeft ; fuch as thefe of Cicero, ^/o- rum qucvstor fueram^ Stc. Again he fays in the fame oration, Hahct honor em ^ &c. There is an- other order in which there are two equal, and one- unequal member, and in that cafe, when the unequal member is fliorteft, it ought to be placed firfl ; when it is longeft, it ought to be placed laft, as iix the two following examples : Testis est Africa^ &c. and Eripite nos ex miseris, &:c. There is another ftruclure of the members of a fentence, in which this rule is departed from, and yet it pleafes, be- caufe of a eertainexaft proportion, as that of Mon- fieur Fenelon, Dans s a douleur^ &:c. The firft and laft members are equal, and that which is in the middle is juft double to each of them.
Perhaps it will be alked, Muft an author then give attention to this precife meafure ? Muft he take a pair of fcales or compalTes to meafare every period he compofes ? By no means. Nothing would be more frigid and unfuccefsful, but it was proper thus to analyfethe fubjeft, and fhow in what manner the ear is pleafed ; at the fame time there is fo great a variety and compafs in the meafures of profe, that it is eafy to vary the ftrudure and ca- dence, and make every thing appear quite fimplc
Vol. VII. Z
26s- LECTURES ON Left. 12.
and natural. This leads me to the third remark uDon ftvle.
3. That variety is to be particularly fludied. If a writer thinks any particular ilru«5lure neceiTary, and forces every thing he has to fay juft into that form, it will be highly difagreeable ; or if he is much enamoured with one particular kind of orna- ment, and brings it in too frequently, it will imme- diately difguft. There is a mixture in the principles of tafle, a defire of uniformity and variety, fimpli- city and intricacy ; and it is by the happy union of all thefe, that delight is moft efFe£lually produced. What elfe is neceflary upon ftyle, will fall very properly under fome of the following heads.
The lafl part of the oratorial art is pronunciation, including gefture. This is of the utmoft, and in- deed of univerfally confefTed importance. The effects of the different manner of delivering the fame thing are very great. It is a famous fubjeft, largely treated of by all critical writers. It feems to have been nicely fludied by the ancients ; and if we may judge from fome circumllances, their ac- tion has been often very violent. We are told of Cicero, that when he firfl went to the bar, the vio- lence of his aftion, and what is called contentio laterum, was fucli as endangered his couflitution, fo that he took a journey for his health, and on his return took to a more cool and managed way of fpeaking. There is alfo fomewhere in his wri- tings, an expreflion to this purpofe, Nee fuit etiam^ quod minimum est, supplosio pedis ; as if llamping with the foot had been one of the leaft violent mo- tions then in ufe. We cannot judge qf this matter
Led. 12. ELOQUENCE. 263
very well at fiich a diftance. There is a difference in the turn of different nations upon this fabje6l. The French and Italians have much more warmth and fire in their manner than the Briiiili. I re- member once to have been told that no man could perceive the beauty of Raphael's picturv* of Paul preaching at Athens, unlefs he had feen a French- man or Italian in the pulpit. Leaving you to read and digeil all the criticifms and remarks upon this fubjeft to be met with in different authors, I ihall only give a few dii'e£lions ihat I efteem mofl ufe- ful for avoiding improprieties, and attaining feme degree of excellence in this refpeft.
1. Study great (incerity -, try to forget every pm*pofe but the very end of fpeaking, information, and perfuading. Labour after that fort of prefence of mind which arifes from felf-denial, rather than from courage. Nothing produces more aukward- nefs than confulion and embarrailment. Bring a clown into a magnificent palace, and let him have to appear in the prefence of perfons of high rank, and the fear and folicitude he has about his own carnage and difcourfe, makes both the one and the other much more abfurd and aukward than it would have otherwife been.
2. Learn diitindl articulation, and attend to all the common rales of reading, which are taught in the Engliih grammars. Articulation is giving their full force and pov.crs to the confonants as well as the vowels. The difference between a well articu- lated difcoiLirfe and one defective in this refpe^, is, that the firft you will hear diflinftly as far as you
Z 2
264 LECTURES ON Le<^,
12,
can hear the voice ; the other you will hear found enough, yet not underftand almoft any thing tliat is faid. Piactice in company is a good way to learn this and feveral other excellencies in difcourfe.
3. Another rule is, to keep to the tone and key of dialogue, or common converfation, as much as pofTible. In common difcourfe, where there is no aiiedlation, men fpeak properly. At leaft, thougli even here there are dilTerences from nature, fome fpeaking with more fweetnefs and grace than others, yet there is none that falls into any of thofe unna- tural rants or ridiculous geilures, that are fometiiues to be feen in public fpeakers.
4. It is of coiifiderable confequence to be accuf- tomed to decency of manners in the befl company. This gives an eafe of carriage and a fenfe of delicacy, which is of great ufe in forming the deportment of an orator.
5. In the lail place, every one fliould coniider not only what is the manner, bell in itfelf, or even befl fuited to the fubjedl, but what is alfo beii fuit- ed to his own capacity. One of a quick animated fpirit by nature, may allow himfelf a much greater violence of a£lion, than one of a colder difpolitiou. If this lad works himfelf up to violence^ or lludies to exprefy much paffion, he will not probably be able to carry it through, but will relapfe into his own natural manner, and by the fenfible difference between one part of his difcourfe and another, ren- der himfelf ridiculous. Solemnity of manner ihould bo fubflituted by all fuch perfcns in the room of fu-c.
Led. 13. ELOQUENCE. 2^5
LECTURE XIII.
WE come now to the fourth general division of this fubjecl:, which is, that its object or end is ditFerent. The ends a writer or fpeaker may be faid to aim at, are informarlon, demonilration, perfiiafion, and entertainment. I need fcarce tell you, that thefe are not fo wholly diilinft, bat that they arc frequently intermixed, and that more than one of them may be in view at the fame time. Perfuafion is aifo ufed in a fenfe that includes them all. The intention of ail ipeech, or wriiiag, which is but recorded fpeech, is to perfuade, taking the word with latitude. Yet I think you will ealily perceive that there are very different fons of com- pofition, in fome of v.'hich one of the above-men- tioned purpofes, and in others a difFcrent one, takes the lead, and gives the colour to the whole performance. Great benefit will arife from keep- ing a clear view of what is the end propofed. It will preferve the writer from a vitious and mLfta- ken tafte. The fame thoughts, the fame phrafeology,- the fame fpirit in general, running through a wri- ting, is highly proper in one cafe, and abfurd in another. There is a beauty in every kind of wri- ting when it is well done, and impropriety or bad tafte will fometiraes fliow themfelves in pieces very iiiconiiderable. If it were but inditing a meflagc- card, penning an article in a newfpaper, or draw- ing up an advertifement, perfons accuilomed to each of thefe will be able to keep to the common
\2t6 LECTURES ON Le^t. 1 3.
form, or beaten track ; but if any thing different is to be faid, good fenfe and propriejtj, or their con- traries, will foon fhow themfelves.
The writings which have information as their chief purpofe, are hiflory, fable, epiftolary writing, the common intercourfe of bufinefs or frieadihip, ^nd all the lower kinds. The properties which •Ihould reign in them, are the following, i. Plain- nefs ; 2. Fulnefs ; 3. Preciiion ; and, 4. Order.
1 . Plainnefs it is evident they ought to have ; and indeed not barely perfpicuity, fo as to be intelligible, but an unaffeded fimplicity, fo as not to feem to have any thing higher in view than to be uiider- ilood.
2. AVhen we fay that fulnefs is a property of writings which have information as their purpofe^ it is not meant to recommend a long or diffufe nar- ration, but to intimate that nothing fhould be omit- ted in giving an account of any thing, which is of importance to its being truly and completely under- ftood. Let a writer be as large as he pleafes in what he fays, if he omits circumftances as effential as thofe he mentions, and which the reader would naturally defire to know, he is not full. Many are very tedious, and yet not full. The excellence of a narrative is to contain as many ideas as poffible, provided they are interefling, and to convey them in as few words as poffible, confiflently with per- ipicuity.
3. Precifion, as a quality of narration, belongs chiefly to language. Words ihould be chofen that are truly expreflive of the thing in view, and all Rnibigubus as well a^ fuperiluous phrafes carefully
Left. 13. ELOQUENCE. 257
avoided. The reader is impatient to get to the end of a ftory, and therefore he null not be flopped by any thing but what you are fure he would be glad to know before he proceeds further.*"
4. The lafl particular is order, which is necef* fary in all writings, but efpecially in narration. There it lies chiefly in time and place, and a breacJi of order in thefe refpects is more eafilydifcerned < and more univerfally offenfive than in 'any other. Comnaon hearers do no't always k^ow when you violate order in ranging the arguments on a moral fubjeft ; but if you bring in a ftory abruptly, or tell it corifufedly, either in a letter or a difcourfe, it will be inftantly perceived, and thofe will laugh at you >vho could not tell it a whit better therafelves.
Imagination is not to be much ufed in wiitings of the narrative kind. Its chief ufe in fuch writings is in defcription. A man of a warm fancy will paint firongly, and a man of a fentimental turn will intereft the afteclions even by a mere recital of facts. But both tlie cne and the other iliould be kept in great moderation j for a warm fancy is often joined to credulity, and the fentimental perfan is given to invention ; fo that he will turn a. real hiilory into a romance. In hiftory a certain cool and difpalHonate dignity is the leading beauty. The writer fhould appear to have no intereft in characters or events, but deliver them as he finds them. The character which an illuftrious hiftorian acquires from this felf-denia], and being, as it were, fuperior to all the perfonages, how great foever, of whom he treats, has fomettiing awful and venerable in it.
268 LECTURES ON Leci:. I3,
It is dlftinguifhed by this circumflance from the applaufe given to the poet or orator.
Demonftration is the end in vaew in all fcientific ■writings, whether eflajs, fyftems, or controverfy. The excellencies of this kind of writing maj be reduced to the three following : Perfpicuity, order, and ftrength. The two firft are neceflary here as every where elfe, and the compofition fhould be ilrong and nervoKS to produce a lafting conviftion ; more force of language is to be admitted, at lead more generally in this kind than in the former j but a grent deal lefs of imagination and fancy than even there. Whenever a fcientific writer begins to paint and adorn, he is forgetting himfelf and dif- guiling his reader. This will be fenfibly felt if you apply it to the mathematics. The mathema- tician is converfant only with fenfible ideas, and tlierefore the more naked and unadorned every thing that he fays is, fo much the better. How would itlook if a mathematician fhould fay, Do you fee this beautiful, fmall, taper, acute angle ? It always approaches to this abfurdity, when, in fearch- ing after abflrad truth, writers introduce imagina- tion and fancy. I am fenfible that, having men- tioned controverfy as belonging to this clafs, many may be furprifed that I have excluded ijn agination altogether, fl nee commonly all controverfial waiters do, to the utmofl of their ability, enlift imagination in the fervice of Reafon. There is nothing they are fo fond of as expofing the weaknefs of their ad- verfaries by Urokes of raillery and humour. This I did on purpofe that I may ftatc this matter to you clearly. Controverfy fliould mean, and very ge*
Lecl. 13. ELOQUENCE. 269
ntTally fuch writers pretend to mean, v/eighiiig the arguments on each lide of a contelled queiiion, in order to difcover the tmth. What llrong profef- fions of impartiality have we fometimes from the very champions of a party- quarrel I while yet it is plain, that fearching after truth is what they never .think ofy but maintaining, by every art, the caufe v.hich tliey have already efpoufed.
I do not deny that there are fometimes good reafons for making ufe of fatlre and ridicule, in trontroverfies of the political kind, and fometimes it is necelTary in felf-defence. If any writer in behalf of a party, attempts to expofe his adverfaries to public fcorn, he ought not to be furprifed i^ the meafure he metes to others, is meafured out to him again. What is unlawful in the aggreilor, becomes •piliiiabre, if not laudable, in the defender. Some- times it is necefiary to expofe tyrants, or perfons in power, who do not reafon, but puniih ; and fome- -times it is neceil'ary to bring down felf-fuflicient perfons, ^Hth whom there is no dealing till their pride is levelled a little with tills difmaying vreapon. Dr Brown has fct this matter in a very clear light, in his ElTays on the Characleriftics, where he fays, that ridicule is not the tell of truth, but it may he r. ry ufeful to expofe and difgrace known falfehood. But when controverfy is rjeally an impartial arch after tnith, it is the farthefl diftant imagin- able, either from pailionate declamation on the one hand, or fallies of wit and humour on the other, Tiiere is one inflance of a controverfy carried on between Dr Sutler and Br Clark, upon the fub- '::c1 of fpace and perfcnal identity, in which there
<L*J0 LECTURES ON Lecl. I3.
did not fceni to be any defign, upon either fide, but to difcover the truth. It ended m -he entire con- vidtion and fatisfadion of one of ihein, which he readily and openly acknowledged : and I think in fuch an inftance there is much greater glory to be had in yielding than in conquering. There is great honour in candidly acknowledging a miftake, but not much in obtaining a vidory in fapport of truth. It is w^orth while juft to mention, that this was far from being the cafe in another controverfy between two, who were alfo very great men, Mr Locke and Dr Stillingfleet, upon innate ideas. They not only fupported each his fentimcnts, with warmth and keennefs, but defcended to all the malice of perfonal reproach, and all the n'ttlenefs of verbal criticifm.
The next great end that may be in view, is per- fuafion. This being the great and general fubjsdt of oratory, has had mod faid upon it in every age. That you may underftand what I mean by diftin- guifhing it from information, demon fir ation, and en- tertainment, obfervc, that perfuafion is, when we would bring the reader or hearer to a determinate choice, either immediately upon the fpot for a par- ticular decifion, as in an aUembly or court of juflice, or in a more fiow and lading way, as in religious and moral writings. But particularly perfualion is underftood to be in view, as the effect of a fingle i^ifcourfe. When this is the purpofe, there arc op- portunities for all the ways of fpeaking within the compafs of th2 oratorial att. There are times •when an orator mufl narrate {imply — there are times when he mufl reafon flrongly — and there are
Lecl. 13. ELOQUENCE. 27!
times when he may wound -Tatiric ally. It rauft be remembered, however, that too great an infiilion of wit takes away both from the dignity and force of an oration. We fliall fee under the next head, that it cannot be admitted in religious inftruclion ; but when you are fpeaking againll an adverfary that is proud and conceited, or when you w'ant to make your hearers defpife any perfon or thing, as well as hate them, wit and fatire may be of ufe. A mini- fter of ftate is very often attacked in this w^ay with propriety and fuccefs. It is fometimes allowed to relieve the fpirits of the audience when they begin to flag. In this view Cicero recommends the ur-^ hanitas, and practifes it himfelf j and at the fame times he intimates that it ihould be done fparingly, and with caution— J^z/o tanquam sale conspergatur oratio. Wit, therefore, is to be abfolutely excluded from Ccientiiic writings, and very rarely to be ufed in ferious perfualion.
The lafl end of fpeaking and writing I fliall mention, is entertainment. This includes all fuch writings as have the amufement or entertainment of the hearers or reader-s as the only, the chief, or at leaft one great end of the compofition. This is the cafe with all poetical compofitions. Tliey may pre- tend to write for the inftruftion of others, but to pleafe them and obtain their favour is probably more their purpofe. At any rate, they mufl con- tent themfelves with taking in both, and fay with Horace, Et prodesse volunt et delectare poeta^. Sweet- nefs, tendernefs, and elegance of ftyle, ought to charaderize thefe forts of compofition. Here is the greatefl room for imagination and fancy. Here is
272 LECTURES oy Led. 13.
the dominion of wit and hunlour. It is an obferva- tion of fomc, that the word humour is peculiar to the Englifli language ; that the eutrapelia in Greek, sales et urbanitas^ in Latin, have all the fame mean- ing with our general term wit ; but that humour denotes a particular kind of wit, coniilling chiefly of irony. But if the word is peculiar to the Eng- lifli language, it is certain that the thing itfelf is far from being peculiar to the Englifh nation. Perhaps Homer's Batrychomachia may be faid to be the moft ancient example of it upon record. Lucian's Dialogues have it ;in high perfecilion; though it muft be owed that it feems particularly to have flouriihed in modern times. Fontenelle's Dialogues of the Dead, and Boileau's Satires, are famous examples of it ; but none ever exceeded Cervantes, the celebrated author of Don Ouixotte. That piece 'S"*" highly entertaining to an Englilh reader, under two great difadvantages. One is, its being tranflated into another language. Now, wit is more difficult to tranllate than any other fubje£l of compoiition. It is eaiier to tranllate undiminifh- cd the force of eloquence, than the poignancy of wit. The other difadvantage is, its being written in ridicule of a character that now no more exifts ; fo that we have not the opportunity of comparing the copy with the original.
We muft alfo obferve, that wit in general, and this fpecies of it in particular, has often appeared in the higheft perfection in Britain, both in profe and poetry ; Shakefpeare's dramatic pieces abound with it, and Dr Donnes' Satires. It is in ^high perfedion in Marvel's Rehearfal Tranfpofed ;> Al-
Le£t. 13. ELOQUENCE. 273
fop's Melius Inquirendum ; but, above all, in Swift's writings, profe and verfe.
It is obferv'ed fometimes, that the talent of humour is often pofTefled, in a very high degree, by perfons of the meaneft rank, who are themfelves ignorant of it ; in them it appears chiefly in converfation, arid in a manner that cannot be eaflly put upon paper. But as to thofe who think fit to try this manner from the prefs, they fhould be well affured before- hand, that they really pofTefs the talent. In many other particulars, a real tafte for it, and a high ad- miration of any thing, is a coniiderable fign of fome degree of the talent itfelf ; but it is far from being fo in wit and humour. Mr Pope tells us, that " gentle dullnefs ever loves a joke :" and we fee every day people aiming at wit, who produce the moft miferable and fhocking performances : fome- times they do not excite laughter, but loathing or indignation ; fometimes they do excite laughter, but it is that of contempt. There is a diftin<5lion which every one fhould endeavour to underftand and remember, between a wit and a droll ; the firft makes you laugh at what he fays, and the objeft of his fatire, and the fecond makes you laugh at his own expence, from his abfurdity and meanuefs.
LECTURE XIV.
"V^TE come now to the fifth general divifion of ^ ' eloquence, as its fubjeft is diflferent ; under which we may confider the three great divifions of Vol. VII. A a
174 LECTURES ON Le£l. I4.
the pulplf, the bar, and promifcuous aflemblies. All the general principles of compofition are com- mon to thefe three kinds, nor can any man make a truly diftinguiflied figure in any one of them, with- out being well acquainted with literature and tafte. Some peculiarities in different ways of writing have been already touched at, all which I fuppofe you gave attention to ; but there are flill fome differ- ences, as the fcene in which a man is to move in life is different, which are highly worthy of obfer- vation. I will, therefore, confider each of thefe feparately, and try to point out the qualities for which they ought to be diflinguifhed ; or delineate the chara6ler of an accomplilhed miniller, lawyer, and fenator.
I begin with the pulpit. Preaching the gofpel of Chrifl is a truly noble employment, and the care ©f fouls a very important trufl. The qualities of mofl importance, I think, are as follow.
I. Piety— To have a firm belief of that gofpel he Is called to preach, and a lively fenfe of religion upon his own heart. Duty, intereft, and utility, all eonfpire in requiring this qualification ; it is of the utmofl moment in itfelf, and what men will the leafl difpenfe with in one of that profeflion. All men, good and bad, agree in defpifing a loofe or profane minifler. It difcovers a terrible degree of depravity of heart, and thofe that begin fo feldom alter for the better. The very familiar acquaintance which they acquire with ferious thoughts and fplrltual fub- jefts, ferves to harden them againfl the arrows of conviction ; and it is little wonder that for fuch da- ring wickednefs, God fhould leave them to them-
Le£l. 14. ELOQJJENCE. 275
felves, or fentence them to perpetual barrennefs. But whilft I think it my duty thus to warn you, I mufl beg leave to guard it againft abufe, left, while we are aggravating the fin of profane minifters, others fhould think themfelves at liberty, who have no view to that facred offic:^. We have even feen perfons decline the facred office, becaufe they did not think they had true religion, and then, with feeming eafe and quietnefs, fet themfelves to fome other bufmefs, as if in that there was no need of reliction at all. Alas ! after all that can be faid of the guilt and danger of an irreligious minifter, there is an infinite danger to every one who fhall go out of this life an irreligious man. Will it not be poor confolation, think you, in the hour of ficknefs or death, that though you mull perifh everlaftingly, you go to hell, not as a minifter, but a lawyer or a phyfician ? I do truly think, this has been a pillow of fecurity to many poor thoughtlefs fouls, and that they have actually rid themfelves of conviftion, by this miftaken comfort, as if there was much merit in it, that they would not be mi- nifters, becaufe they wanted religion. Remember this, then, in a fingle word, that there is neither profeftion nor ftation, from the king on the throne to the beggar on the dunghill, to whom a concern for eternity is not the one thing needful.
But, let me juft take notice of the great advan- tage of true religion to one deftined for tbe work of the miniftry.
(i.) It gives a man the knowledge that is of moft fervice to a minifter. Experimental know- A a 2
27^ LECTURES ON Lc6i. I4.
ledge is fuperior to all other, and necefTarj to the perfedion of every other kind. It is indeed the very pofTefTion, or daily exercife of that virhich it is the bulinefs of his life, and the duty of his office, to explain and recommend. Experimental know- ledge is the beft fort in every branch, but it is ne- ceflary in divinity, becaufe religion is Vvhat cannot be truly underftood, unlefs it is felt.
(2.) True piety will direft a man in the choice of his ftudies. The objedl of human knowledge is fo extenfive, that nobody can go through the whole, but religion will dired the ftudent to what may be moft profitable to him, and will alfo ferve to turn into its proper channel all the knowledge he may otherwife acquire.
(3.) It will be a powerful motive to diligence in his ftudies. Nothing fo forcible as that in which eternity has a part. The duty, to a good man is fo prefling, and the objeft fo important, that he will fpare no pains to obtain fuccefs.
(4.) True religion will give unfpeakable force to what a minifter fays. There is a piercing and a penetrating heat in that which flows from the heart, which dlftinguifties it both from ihe coldnefs of indifference, and the falfe fire of enthufiafra and vain-glory. We fee that a man truly pious ha^ often efteem, inHuence, and fuccefs, though his pails may be much inferior to others, who are more capable, but lefs confcientious. If, then, piety makes even the weakeft venerable, what muft it do when added to the finell natural talents, and the beft acquired endowments ?
(^.) It adds to aminifter's inftrudion, the weight
Lect. 14. ELOQJJENCE. Iff
of his example. It is a trite remark, that example teaches better than precept. It is often a more ef- fectual reprimand to vice, and a more inciting ar- gument to the pradice of virtue, than the bell of reafoning. Example is more intelligible than pre- cept. Precepts are often involved in obfcuritj, or warped bj controverfj ; but a holy life immediately reaches, and takes poiTeilion of the heart.
If I have lengthened out this particular beyond the proportion of the reft, I hope you will forgive it for its importance, and obferv'e, as the conclu- fion of the whole, that one devoted to the ferries of the gofpel fliould be really^ visibly , and eminently holy.
2. Another character which fliould diflingnifii pulpit-eloquence, isfimplicity. Simplicity is beau- tiful every where ; it is of importance that young perfons Ihould be formed to a taile for it, and more difpofed to exceed here than in the oppofite ex- treme ; but, if I am not miilaken, it is more beau- tiful, and the tranfgreilions of it mere offenfive, in the pulpit, than any where elfe. If I heard a lawyer pleading in fuch a flyle and manner, as was more adapted to -difplay his own talents, than to carry his client's caufe, it would con£derably leilen him in my efteem ; but if I heard a miniftcr aiEling the fame pan, I fhould not be fatisfied with con- tempt, but hold him in deteftation.
There are feveral ob\-ious reafons why Cm- plicity is more efpecially necefiary to a minifter than any other. 1. Many of his audience are poor- ignorant creatures. If he mean to do them any fervice, he muil keep to what they ucderlland, ^d Aaj
2*}% LECTURES ON Lecl. 1 4.
that requires more iimplicity than perfons without experience can eafily imagine. It is remarkable, that at the firfl publication, it was a chara6ler of the gofpel, that it was preached to the poor. In this our blefled Mafter was diftinguiihed, both from the heathen philofophers and Jewifh teachers, who confined their inflruftions in a great meafure to their fchools, and imparted what thej elleemed their moft important difcoiurfes, to only a few cho-- fen difciples. 2. Simplicity is neceffary to pre- ferve the fpeaker's character for fincerity. You heard before how neceffary piety is, which is the proper parent of fincerity in the pulpit. Now, it is not eafy to preferve the opinion of piety and fin- cerity in the pulpit, when there is much ornament. Befides the danger of much affefted pomp, or fop- pery of ftyle, a difcourfe very highly poliilied, even in the truell tafte, is apt to fuggeft to the audience, that a man is preaching himfelf, and not the crofs of Chrifi:. So nice a matter is this in all public fpeaking, that fome* cri- tics fay, that Demofihenes put on purpofe fome errors in grammar in his difcourfes, that the hear- ers might be induced to take them for the im- mediate effufions of the heart, without art, and with little premeditation. 1 doubt much the foli- dity of this remark, or the certainty of the facl ; but however it be, there is no occafion for it in the cafe of a minifter, becaufe preparation and premeditation are expe«3:ed from him ; and in that cafe he may make his difcourfes abundantly plain and fimple, without any affected blunders. 3. Simplicity is alio neceffary, as fuited to the gofpel
Le6l. 14. ELOQUENCE. ^79
itfelf, the fubjecl of a miniiler's difcourfes. No- thing more humbling to the pride of man, than the do£lnne of the crofs ; nothing more imbecoming that doftrine, than too much finery of language. The apoftle Paul chofe to preach " not with the words which man's wifdom teacheth ;" and again, *^ not with excellency of fpeech, or wifdom •,'* which though I admit that it does not condemn ftudy and found knowledge, yet it certainly fnows, that the ftyle of the pulpit fhould be the moft fimplc and felf-denicd of any other.
3. Another qualification for a minifter is accu- racy, from the utmoft diligence in his important work. I place this imnnediately after the other, to guard it againft abufe by excefs. To avoid vain affetled ornaments, is a very different thing from negligence in preparation. The very fame apoftle who fpeaks with fo much contempt of human wif- dom, yet greatly infifts, in writing to Timothy and Titus, on their giving them.felves to ftiidy, to exhci-tation, to do£lrine, *' Meditate upon thofe things," fays he, &c.
Study and accuracy, indeed, is neceffary, that a minifter may procure and keep up the attention of his hearers ; that he may inform the judge- ment, as well as convince the confcience. The an- cient fathers have generally infifted upon this, as of much moment. And in our own times, I obferve, that it is neceffary to avoid ofTending perfons of finer tafte, who are too much attached to the out^ fide of things, and are immediately difgufted with every error againft propriety, and are apt to re- proach religion itfelf, for the weak»nefs or abfurdi-
^8o LECTURES ON Lecl. I4.
iy of thofe who fpeak in its behalf. Let no man feek to avoid that reproach which may be his lot, for preaching the truths of the everlafting gofpel, but let him alwajs avoid the jufl reproach of han- dling them in a mean, flovenly, and indecent man- ner.
4. Another quality of a miniiler's eloquence, fhould be force and vehemence. I have in fome former parts of the general fubje£l, fhown you how and when this is to be moft exerted. The delign of the prefent remark is to let you know, that there is no fpeaker who has a greater right to ex- ert himfelf to the utmoft, or who may properly intereft his hearers more, than a minifler of the go- fpel. No fpeaker has fubje£ts or arguments more proper for producing this eife£l. To coniider the fubjedls which a fpeaker from the pulpit has to handle, one would think that it mull be the eafiefl thing imaginable to fpeak from them in a power- ful and interefting manner. The eternal God— the greatnefs of his works — the univerfality of his providence — his awful juftice — hisirrefiftible power -^his infinite mercy* — and the wifdom of God in the my fiery of redeeming grace — the condition of faints and finners while on earth — and the final decifion of their eternal ilate in the day of judge- ment. The truth is, the fubjeds are fo very great in themfelves, that it is not poffible to equal them by the manner of handling them. Probably for this very reafon many fall fiiort. Difcouragcd by the immenfity of the theme, they fall below what they might have done on fubje6ls lefs awful. This, h9wever, ihews, with v.hat a holy ambition thofc
Left. 14. ELOQUENCE. 281
"who are employed in the fervice of Chrifl in the gofpel, Ihould endeavour to exert themfelves in the glorious caufe. Provided they are themfejves in eameft, and take truth and nature as their guide, they can fcarcely exceed in zeal and ardour for the glory of God and the good of precious fouls.
5. Another excellent quality of pulpit-eloquence is, to be under the reftra'nt of judgement and pro- priety. I place this afterj^^-the former, as its coun- terpart, and neceffary to give its proper efFe<^« And it may be obferved, that as religious and mo- ral fubjecls give the fureft and the fulleft fcope to zeal and fervour, fo they need, as much as any, the ftri(St government of prudence and experience. I do not mean only by this, to guard minifters from the irregular ferv'-ours of enthufiafm, but to give, if poffible, a degree of folidity and real truth to their inlln^dlions. They ought to avoid all turgid de- clamation, to keep to experience, and to take things as they really are. Let fome people, for ex- ample, fpeak of riches, and what Iball you hear from them ? Gold and filver, what are they, but ihining drofs, fparkling metals, a thing of no real value ? that in the eye of reafon and philofophy, they are of no extcnfive ufe, and altogether con- temptible. And, indeed, to take things in a certain philofophical abflra6lion, they are good for no- thing. Mere gold or filver you can neither eat nor wear. Their value, yon will fay, depends all upon opinion, the changeable fancy of men. But ihis manner of fpeaking, and all that is related to it, feeming to be phliofophy and reafon, is really abfurdity and nonfeufe. For though it be true.
282 LECTURES ON Le<El. I4.
that gold, abflradled from the opinion of mankind, is not a whit more valuable than ftones, and that if I was in the midft of a foreft, furrounded with wild beafls, a whole bag full of gold would do me no fervice ; yet it is as certain, that in our prefent fituation, it is of that real value as to procure all the conveniencies of life. The way, then, to treat fuch fubjeds, is not to ufe thefe rhetorical phrafes in contempt of riches, but to fhow from experience, that they are good or evil, according to the temper of him that ufes them ; and that we fee difcontent and ungoverned paffion find as eafy accefs to the anti- chamber of the prince, as the cottage of the poor. The fame thing I would fay of fame, that it is eafy to fay fame is no more but idle breath, &c. ; but the great matter is to view thofe things in a fober and rational light, to give to every outward mercy its proper value, and only ftiow how much they are counterbalanced by things of infinitely greater moment.
But what I have often obferved with moft regret upon this fubje(5l is, young perfons carrying the things that are really true and excellent to a cer- tain excefs or high pitch, that is beyond nature, and does not tend in the leaft to promote convic- tion, but rather hinders it. When men fpeak of virtue or true goodnefs, they are apt to raife the defcription beyond the life in any real inflance j and when they fpeak of vice and its confequences, they are apt to draw the charader fo as it will apply only to a few of the moil defperate profligates, and the miferable ftate to which they reduce themfelves. This ratlier feems to fortify the generality of per-
Le£l. 14. ELOQUENCE. 2S3
fons, to whom thefe defcriptions do not apply, in their carelefs and fecure flate.
Once more, I have often obferved young per- fons frequently choofe as their fubje£l affliftions, of which, probably, they have had very little expe- rience, and fpeak in fuch a high ftyle, as if every good man were, as the heroes of old, above the reach of every accident. And it is true, that an eminent faint is fometimes made fuperior to all his fufFerings ; but, generally fpeaking, we ought to be very tender of fufferers, till we ourfelves have been in the furnace of aSliclion ; and after that, we fhall not need be told fo. On the whole, a ftri£l adhe- rence to truth and nature, and taking the world juft as it is, will be an excellent mean to dire6l us in every part of our public fervice.
6. Laftly, A minifter ought to have extenflve knowledge. Every thing whatever, that is the obje£b of human knowledge, may be made fubfer- vient to theology. And, confidering that a mini- (iev is in public life, and has to do vnih friends and enemies of all ranks, he ought to be well furniflied with literature of every kind. At the fame time, I would have this well underftood, it is not necef- fary, and I think it is not defirable, that a mini- fter ftiould be quite an adept in particular branches of knowledge, except thofe that are clofely related to his proper work. The reafon of this is, it takes more time to be a perfeft mafter of fome of the particular fciences, than he has to fpare from his duty, and therefore with a tafte of the feveral fciences, general knowledge is mofl fuited to his circumftances, and moll neceiTary to his ufefulnefs.
ft84 LECTURES ON Le(5l. 15.
LECTURE XV.
1 Proceed now to the eloquence of the bar. The profefTion of the law is of great import- ance in the Britiih dominions. There is, therefore, great room for this fort of eloquence. This, in- <3eed, may be faid to be the country of law, not only on account of its being a free ftate, the cha- racter of which is, that not man, but the laws, have dominion, which is our glory, but becaufe, by the great multiplicity of our ftatutes, it becomes an important and difficult fcience. For both thefe reafons, there are great hopes propofed to perfons of ability in this department. They have not only the reafonable profpe6l, if of tolerable abilities, with diligence, to provide an honourable fubiiftence to themfelves, but it is the diredb road to promo- tion, and the way of obtaining the higheft offices in the ftate.
Here, as in the former particular, we muft con- fider every thing as already faid, that belongs to the fubje£l in general ; and, indeed, by far the greateft number of valuable books on the fubje6i of eloquence having been drawn up by pleaders at the bar, they muft be at leaft as much, or perhaps more direftly applicable to this fpecies than any other. I cannot help, however, taking notice of a prepofte- rous praftice in this country, of fome who take their children from literature, before they have fi- niftied their courfe, becaufe they intend to put them to the law. This muft be voluntarily confining them to the very loweft fort of pradlice in that pro-
Lecl. 15. ELOQUENCE. I85
feffion, for if any whatever ftand in need of litera- ture, it muft be the lawyers. Suppofing, there- fore, all that has been faid of compofition, and fpeaking in general, there are a few particular charafters of moft importance in men of that clafs. I. Probity, or real untainted integrity. There can be no doubt that integrity is the firfl and moll important character of a man, be his profeHion what it will ; but I have mentioned it here becaufe tnere are many not fo fenlible of the importance of it in the profeflion of the law, and think it is ne- ceflary to make a good man, but not a good law- yer. On the contrary, I am perfuaded, not only that a man lofes nothing in any capacity by his integrity, but that a lawyer fhould in general ftudy, by probity and real worth, to obtain refpedl from the public, and to give weight to every thing he fays. This integrity fhould fhow itfelf in under- taking caufes. There are many that think there is no ground of fcruple in this refpe6V, and fometimes they are found to boaft w^ith what addrefs they con- duced, and with what fuccefs they carried through^ a very weak caufe. I apprehend this is truly dif- honourable ; and as there are plenty of caufes la which the equity is doubtful, every one who lliould make it a point of honour not to undertake a caufe which they knew not to be juft, it would give un- fpeakable influence to hijs management and plead- ings. The fame probity fhould appear in the manner of conducing caufes ; — no fmifler arts, no equivocation or concealment of the truth. Perhaps^ fome may think that thofe who fliould be confcience- Vol. VII. B b
2S6 LECTURES ON Le^l. 75.
bound in this manfter, would give roguifti perfons an evident advantage over them ; but it is a great miftake. Let them ufe but prudence and firmnefs, joined with integrity, and they are an over-match for all the villains upon earth. The common pro- verb is certainly juft, '* Honefty is the befl policy." The arts of chicanery can only fucceed once or twice. As foon as a man gets the reputation of cimning, its effed is over, for nobody will truft him, and every body counter-works him.
2. Another excellent quality for a lawyer, is af- fiduity and method in bufinefs. This is of great advantage to the very befl genius. I the rather in- fift upon it, that there prevails often a fuppofition that it is not the quality of a great man. Becaufe there are fome perfons of very middling abilities, who give great application, and are lovers of or- der, therefore fome are pleafed to call thofe dull plodding fellows, and think it is a mark of fire and vivacity to be irregular both in their bufinefs and in their lives. There are alfo fome few men of real and great capacity, who are negligent, and even loofe in their pradice, who rife by the mere force of fingular parts. . Thefe are an unhappy example to thofe fuperficial creatures, wlio think, by imi- tating them in their folly, that they will become as great geniafes as they. But fiiifer me to obferve to you, that the greatefl geniufes here have been remarkable for the mofl vigorous application ; and the greatefl men have been, and are, remarkable for order and method in every thing they do. There is a certain dignity which arifes from a aaan's word being facred, even in keeping an ap-
Le£l. 15. ELOQUENCE. ^87
polntment, or the mofl trilling circumftance ; and for people of bafuiefs, order and puncluality gives fo much eafe to therafelves, and pleafure to all who have to do with them, that it is a wonder there ftiould be any body that does not fludy it. Is there any genius, think you, in throwing down a thing fo unthinkingly, that you do not know how to take it up again ? The great Archbiihop of Cam- bray looks upon it as one of the mod important things to teach young perfons to put every thing in its proper place. As every thing that belongs to furniture, drefs, books, and implements, mufl' be in fome place, they are always bed difpofed whea each is in its own place. They will give leall dif- turbance there when ihey are not ufed, and they will be moil readily found when they ought to be ufed.
But when we come to loofe and vicious pr api- ces, it is truly entertaining to meet with riotous dif- orderly fellows, who are pleafed to fpeak with contempt of thofe who love form and good order, as if they themfelves were men of great acutenefs. Now, I almoft never knew an example of your mifchief-workers, but they were thick fculls. I have known fome, who could neither write a jefl nor fpeak a jell in all their life, but had tricks e- ncugh they could play, to difturb a fober neigh- bourhood. I have thus been led back to the irre- gularities of youth, from fpeaking of method in bufinefs, as of importance to lawyers. I fl:all conclude the obfervation with faying, that there is no great prcfpecl of a man's ever being Lord Chan- cellor, who fpends his time in fcouring the flreets^ Bb 2
2S8 LECTURES ON Le^. T5.
and beating the watch, when he is at the inns of court.
3. Another quality ufeful to a law3^er is, addrefs, and delicacy in his manners and deportment in ge- neral, and the conduct of his bulinefs in particular, and above all in pleading and public fpeaking. The addrefs and delicacy I mean, are fuch as are acquired by the knowledge of human nature, and fome acquaintance with human life. They are ufeful, I admit, for every public fpeaker ; but, if I am not miftaken, much more needful to the law- yer than the clergyman. The clergyman pro- ceeds upon things of acknowledged moment, a certain dignity of charafler is allowed him, and expelled from him. A pretended delicacy is -fometimes oifeniive in him. A certain firmnefs, not to call it boldnefs, and impartiality in admi- niftering in{tru6lion and reproof, are ornaments in him. But a lawyer mufl always confider the pro- priety of time and place ; what belongs to him lliat fpeaks, or to him or them that are fpoken to, or that are fpoken of. There are fome fine ex- amples of addrefs and delicacy in Cicero, particu- larly in his orations pro Roscio, pro Mi/one, et de lege agraria.
4. A fourth quality neccffary for a lawyer is, cxtenfive knowledge in the arts and fciences, in hiftory, and in the laws. A perfon that means to rife, or attain to fome of the liigheft degrees of "this prcfellion, mull ftrive to accomplifli himfelf by knowledge in the arts and fciences. His bulinefs is of a pul)lic kind, the caufes he may have occa- fioii to treat are exceedingly various. What ad-
Lcift. 15. ELO<lUENCf. 289
verfaries be may meet with, he is altogether un- certain. I do not mean that a lawyer need to be an adept in particular branches of fcience, but the principles of knowledge in general are very necef- fary, otherwife he will frequently expofe himfelf. Grofs ignorance in the fciences will lay him open to blunders in language, which he could not other- wife avoid. Hiftory alfo is a branch of literature that a lawyer fliould make his favourite fludy ; as his bufmefs lies in canvafling the various relations of men in fecial life, he will be befl able to reafon on the meaning and propriety of laws, and their application, if he be well acquainted with hiftory^ which points out the ftate of fociety, and human aftairs in every age. As to knowledge of the laws, this is what lawyers cannot do without, and what therefore they do necelTarily (iudy ; but it would be much to their advantage, if they would add to the knowledge of the municipal laws of their own country, a knowledge of the great prin-. ciples of equity, and of natural and political laWj as applied in general.
3. The lail quality I fhali mention as of ufe ta a lawyer, is, quicknefs and vivacity. It is of ufe to him to have an acutenefs and penetration to ob- ferve the turns of a caufe. To deted tlie plots and fallacy of adverfaries, as well as to aiifwer upoa the fpot, whatever may be throvvn up. I am fen- fible that this of quicknefs is entirely a natural quality, and cannot be learned ; but I thought k befh to obferve it, becaufe it is of more ufe to a iawyer than to moft other men. A minifter is on* •B b 3
^^0 LECTURES ON Le6l. 15.
I7 called to fpeak what he has deliberately prepa- red, and fullj digefted ; but a lawyer quite in- capable of extemporary produftioiis, would not do fo well. It is alfo certain, that wit, which is in- tolerable in the pulpit, is often not barely pardon- able in a lawyer, but very ufeful. There is, how- ever, fuch a difference in the capacity of men, that one may be eminent in one branch, and de- fective in another. A man of coolnefs, penetra- tion, and application, is often eminent in chamber- councils; and one of vivacity, paffion, and elocu- tion, eminent in pleading caufes, efpecially in crimi- nal courts.
The third and laft diviilon of this clafs, is the eloq.uence of promifcuous deliberative aflemblies. 1 fliall not be very long upon this fubje£l, but as it is far from being improbable that fome here pre- fent may in future life have occalion to a£l in that fphere, and to be members of the provincial alTem- blies, I Ihall make a few remarks upon it to that purpofe. In large deliberative aflemblies of the political kind, there is nearly as much opportunity for fervour and paffion, as there is to the divine, and more fcope for wit and humour than to the lawyer. For though no matters of a merely temporal kind, are of equal moment in themfelves with the things a minifler has to treat of, yet men's paffions are almoft as much, and in many cafes more, excited and interefted by them. The fate of nations, the welfare of our country, liberty, or fervitude, may often feem to want as violent an exertion of the paflionate kiiid of eloquence, as any fubje^ wliaU ever.
Le£l. 15. ILOQJJENCE, 29?
It is worth while to obferv^e, that Icveral writers, in fpeaking of the ancient and modern eloquence, have taken it for granted, that the circumdances of things are changed ; that the violent pailionate elo- quence that prevailed in Greece and Rome, would not do in modern times. They will tell you, that in a modern fenate, or other deliberative alTembly, people come all prepared by private intereft, and will vo*e jull as they are engaged, without regard to either eloquence or truth -, but fome very able writers have delivered a contrary qpinion, particu- larly David Hume, who, though an iniidel in opi- nion, is of great reach and accuracy of judgement in matters of criticifm. He has faid, that human na- ture is always the fame, and that the eloquence which kindles and governs ihe paflions will always have great influence in large aifemblies, let them be of what ilation or rank foever. I apprehend, that experience, fince his writing the above, has fully juflified it by two fignal examples ; one in the flate, and the other in the church. Mr Pitt, now Earl of Chatham, from being a colonel of dragoons, rofe to the higheft flation in the Britifh Empire, merely by the power of a warm and paf. (ionate eloquence. There was never any thing in his difcourfes that was remarkable, either for flreno-th of reafoning, or purity and elegance of ftyle ; but a very great impetuofity and fire, that carried his point in the Eritilh Houfe of Commons. The other inllance is the late Mr Whitfield, who acquired and preferved a degree of popularity, to which the prefent age never faw any thing that could be com- jpared, The happy ends that were promoted by this
a9* LECTURES oir Left. 15.
in providence, I omit, as a. fabjea of a different nature ; but the immediate and fecond caufes that produced it were a power of elocution, and natural talents for public fpeaking, fuperior bj far to any that ever I faw polTeired by any man on earth.
To fucceed in fpeaking in public deliberative affemblies, the following are the moft important qualities.
1. Dignity of charader and difmtereftednefs. In public deliberations, it is not eafy to procure atten- tion, unlefs there is fome degree of character pre- ferved ; and indeed, wherever there is a high opi- nion of the candour and Sincerity of the fpeaker, it wiU. give an inconceivable weight to his fentiments in debate.
2 . There is a necefTity of knowledge of the moft liberal kind, that is, the knowledge of men and manners, of hiftory, and of human nature. The moil fuccefsful fpeakers in fenates, are generally thofe who know mankind beft ; and if a man would uniformly preferve his chara6ler and influence in this light, he muft addict himfelf to the ftudy o£ hiftorv, and the exercife of refleftion.
. 3. To this fort of eloquence is particularly necef- fary, a power over the paffions. This is one of the moft important charadlers of eloquence in gene- ral ; yet it is more peculiarly neceflary, and more eminently powerful, in promifcuous deliberative affemblies, than in any other. In religious dif- courfes, the eft*e6l is expefted to be cool, deep, and permanent. Even preachers in fingle difcourfes, rather choofe to fpeak as writers, than as pleaders; and lawyers, except in fome few inaances; may
Le£l. 15. ELOQUENCE. 295
expect to have their aflertions taken to pieces, can- vaiTed and tried one after another ; but in meetings of the political kind, the decilion is to be. by a vote, before the dillblution of the aflembly, and cannot be altered afterwards though the majority fiiould change their fentiments. In thefe alTemblies, there- fore, to be fure, a power over the pafTions mull b« of the utmoft moment.
I ihall conclude this particular by two fubordi- nate remarks on the fame fubjecl. i. That to fucceed in fpeaking in fenates or large affemblies, there is much need of great difcernment, both to proportionate men's attempts to their capacity, and to choofe the proper time for exerting it. When information is demanded, any perfon who can give it will be heard with patience upon it: but on fub- jeds of high political importance, where there are many eminent champions on each fide, even perfons of moderate abilities would run a rifk of being affronted. 2. The other direction is, that all who intend to be fpeakers in political affemblies, muft begin early. If they delay beginning till years ftiall add maturity to their judgement, and weight to their authority, the confequence will be, that years will add fo much to their caution and diffidence, that they will never begin at all.
We come now to confider the ff ruclure of a par- ticular difcourfe — the order, proportion, and mutual relation of the feveral parts. ^ Orators, or critics on oratory, very early learned to analyfe a difcourfe, and to enumerate the parts of which it is compofed. They are a little difftrently flated by different au- thors j fome reckon four — iiitroducVicn, propoliuon,
^94 LECTURES ON Left. 1 5.
confirmation, and conclufion ; others, five, adding tiarrp.tion ; others, fix, adding refutation ; and there are fome difcourfes in which you may eafily have each of thefe different thi-.-gs ; but confidering that we muft take this matter fo generally, as to include till kinds of compofition, it would be, 1 think, as well to adopt the divifion in poetical criticifm, and fay, that every regular difcourfe, or compofition of every kind, muft have a beginning, a middle, and tin end. Every performance, however ftiort, muil be capable of fome fuch divifion, otherwife it is called abrupt and irregular. The reafon why I would make the divifion in this manner is, that the beginning is properly the introdudion ; the middle includes every thing, however various, that is taken into the body of a difcourfe ; now, thefe may be very many, propofition, narration, explication, confirma- tion, illuftration, and refutation ; but thefe are not all requifite in every difcourfe, and are to be intro- duced in propofitions variable and accidental, ac- cording to the nature of every particular fubjecl.
Let us fpeak firil: of the introdudlion. — This is the more neceffary, that it is of very confidcrable importance, efpecially to an orator ; it is alfo diffi- cult, at leaft fpeakers have generally faid fo. We find it faid in fome of the books of oratory, that the introdudlion, though firft pronounced, ought to be laft compofed. — that it comes to be confidered after the -difcourfe isfinillied ; but this does not appear to me to be either natural or necelTary, except in a qualifiedfenfe; the introdudion is commonly fettled after the fubjed is pitched upon, the diitributiou
Left. 15. ELOQUENCE. 295
planned and digefted, and luch reflexion upon the whole as precedes writing.
The ends in an introdu£lion, are faid by Cicero to be thefe, Redder e auditor em attentum, benevolum et docilem ; — to make the reader attentive to the dif- courfe, favourable to the fpeaker, and willing to receive inftruftion upon the fubject. Thefe differ- ent views may not only be altered in their order, at the judgement of the orator, but any of them may be left out when it is unneceffary ; if, for example, I have no reafon to fufpefl difaffe£lion in any of my hearers, long apologies, efpecially if any way perfo- nal, are raiher difgufting.
The ways of procuring either attention, a favour, or making the hearers teachable, are fo various^ that "they can neither be enumerated nor claffed. In this the orator muft exercife his invention, judge** ment, and good tafte. The mofl ufual mamier of introduction, is a common place upon the import- ance of the fubjed ; the introduftions drawn from the circumftances of time, place, and perfon, are generally the moft ftriking ; fometimes an unufual ftroke is happy in an introduftion, as alfo a weighty reflexion or bold fentiment on the fabjeft itfelf. A funeral fermon was happily begun by Mr Bax- ter, in this manner : ** Death is the occafion of our prefent meeting, and death {hall be the fubjeft of the following difcourfe; I am to fpeak of that which fliail fhortly filence me, and you are to hear of that which fhall fpeedily flop your ears." Dr Evans begins a fermon on Ecclef. xii. 10. " Re- joice, O young man I" &:c, by telling a ftory of a Ibldier whofe lijfe was faved by a Bible in his pocke^
1^6 LECTURES ON Led. 1$.
and his converfion produced by the accident ; the Bible faved him from being (hot through with a bullet, and, when he examined, it had juft pierced the leaves through, till it Hopped at that paflage, which no doubt he read with particular emotions. A difcourfe of a lawyer in a law-fuit, is generally befl begun by a narrative of the occafion of the quarrel, and the introducing of any common -place topics would be reckoned afFeftation. A clergy- man may often have an introduclion to his fubje£l with advantage, and may alfo often begin by a concife view of the context, or the occafion of the words lie has chofen to difcourfe upon.
Perhaps what will be of mofl ufe here, will be to point out feveral ways by which an introdu6lion may be faulty : of thefe I Ihall mention. the follow- ing.
I. An introduftion may be faulty, by being too pompous and extravagant. This is one of the mofl common faults in the prefaces or introdu6lions to books. When an author is to write upon any fub- je£t, he thinks it necelTary to Ihow, not only that his fubjed is worth the handling, but that it is better than all gther fubjeds. Weak and pedantic writers are often guilty of this to a degree that is ridiculous. A treatife on arithmetic, fometimes is introduced by a pompous proof that the knowledge of numbers is either fuperior to, or the bafis of all other know- ledge ; the fame thing is done with grammar ; and there is often a general truth or plaufibility from which the ridicule to which they expofe themfelves takes its rife ; for, to be fure, number is everywhere ; every thing that ever was or can be^ mufl be either
Le^. 15. ELOQUENCE. I97
one or more. As to grammar, all good fenfe mufl certainly be grammar ; vet there are fometimes perfons who would be thought to underfland both, thefe fubjecls very well, who could not fpeak five fentences, or write a letter, without being defervedly laughed at.
2. An introdu£tion may be faulty, by being ge- neral. We fee often refledions in the introductioa to a diicourfe, that would be juft as proper for one fubjedb as for another. Such fentimcnts may be faid to go before, but they cannot be faid to intro- duce their fubjed. Sometimes you will hear the introdudion almoll out, before you can conjedure w^hat is to be the fubjed ; and fome are fo unhappy in the choice of introdudory fentiments, that you would think they intend fomething that is very different from what really appears in the piece itfelf.
3. It is a fault in an introdudion, to be filled with remarks quite beaten and hackneyed, if I mav fpeak fo. Thefe may have been very good remarks or fentiments when firit conceived and uttered, but by perpetual repetition have loft their force, and fron\ the very commonnefs appear mean and defpicable. They are many of them founded upon fayings in the claflic authors, and in the paft age were com- monly produced as quotations, with tlijir paraphrafe, fuch as, " Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulciJ'^ '* Ingratum si dixeris^ omnia dixeris,^"*
4. An introdudion may be forced and unnatural ; that is to fay, fuch rem.arks may be made, as it re- quires a great deal of pains to ihow any relation between them and the fubjed to be treated.
Vol, VII. C c
298 LECTURES ON Le£l. 1 5.
5. It may be fanciful or whimfical. There was an age when thefe fort of introdudions were to the tafte of the public. This fancy or whim, or, as I may call it, a finical way of entering upon a fubje6t publicly, may be bed illuftrated by an example. An author of the lafl age begins a difcourfe upon ch. viii. of the Epillle to the Romans, v. 28. to this purpofe : " The fcriptures may be confidered as a large and rich garden. — The New Teftament is the moft valuable divifion of that garden. — The Epiftle to the Romans is the richeft compartment of that diviiion ; the 8th chapter is the moft delightful border of that compartment, and the 28th verfe the fineft flower of that border."
6. An introdu61ion may be faulty by being tedious. An introduftion is deligned to whet the attention, and excite impatience for what is to fol- low. But when it is very long, it not only difgufts by the difappointment, but waftes that attention which fliould be prefer\'ed in full vigour, or raifes a high expectation, which is probably for that reafon difappointed.
As to the middle or body of a difcourfe, the chief thing to be attended to in this place is, to make you fenfible of what it confifts. The former dif- courfes have all been intended to teach you the way of compofition, both as to materials and ftruc- ture ; yet as to the method of conducting a particu- lar difcourfe^ I would make the three following re- marks :
(1.) Be careful of the order of the feveral parti- culars mentioned. You may not fee it proper to introduce all in the compafs of a fingle difcourfe, but fo far as they are introduced, they iliould be in
Le«fl. 15. ELOQUENCE. 299
the following order : Propolition, narration, illuftra- tion, confirmation, refutation. You will fpeedil/ perceive this to be the order of nature, to lay down the method, narrate the facls, illuftrate them by whatever may have that effect, adduce the proofs, refolve objeftions. A perfon of a clear head will range his fentiments in this order ; yet there are fome exceptions to be admitted. Sometimes it is ufeful in a caufe to referve a part of the llory itfelf, to apply or illuftrate an argument ; and in fome few inftances it is beft to anfwer objeclions, or remove prejudices, before you adduce your proofs.
(2.) It is a moft ufeful diredion to the greatefl part of writers and fpealiers, to guard againil in- troducing every thing that they might fay, or being fo formal that they will fay fomething in the way of form in every one of their divifions. This ana- lyfis of a difcourfe is good for making the judgement clear ; but if it be applied merely to make the in- vention copious, it will probably produce an unne- cefTary load. Some people will needs anfwer ob- jec"lions on any fubjeft, and frequently teach their hearers to make objeftioas which they never would have thought of.
(3.) Learn to keep clofe to a fubjeft, and bring in nothing but what is truly of force to the point to be proved. I the rather mention this as a rule for the middle or body of a difcourfe, bccaufe the mofl are there apt to tranfgrefs it. In the introdudioa a^.d the conclafion, every one but thofe who are perfedly ftupid keep their fubject direilly in their eye ; whereas in the body, when they are entered C c a
300 LECTURES ON Left. I5.
Upon argument and amplification, they are apt td be led aftray, and either to fall into what may be called abfolute digreflions, or at leaft to lengthen fome parts more than true proportion requires. ' As to the conclufion or peroration, to this may be applied particularly all that was faid upon pathos, or raifing the paffions, to which 1 add the following ihort obfer vat ions :
1. The conclufion Ihould be by far the warmed and mofl animated part of the difcourfe. It is not, I think, defirable to attempt to raife the paffions of an audience high, till towards the clofe of a dif- courfe, becaufe, if it be begun fooner, there is an evident hazard of not being able to preferve them in the fame pitch till the end.
2. The conclufion fhould colle£t into one point of view, byfome well-chofen expreilions, the force of what has gone before ; and the greateft fkill in the fpeaker is ftiown by concentrating the whole in this manner. Before the illuftration it could not be faid fo briefly ; but by the help of what went before, it ;nay be recalled to memory in lefs room.
3. Towards the conclufion the fentences fhould be fludied, the tone of voice higher, and the pronuncia- tion more rapid than towards the beginning.
4. I.aftly, great care fiiould be taken in moral difcourfcs to have no far-fetched inferences.
Lea. 1 5. ELOQUENCE. 30j'
LECtURE XVI.
1AM now to conclude the diicourfes upon this fubject by an inquiry into the general principles of talie and criticifm. In the former difcourfes, we liave kept clofe to the arts of writing and fpeaking, and have attempted to defcribc the various kinds of compoiition, their charaflers, diilinclions, beauties, blemiilies, the means of attaining ilvill in them, and the ufes to which they iliould ba applied. But is it not proper to confider the alliance, if there be any tuch, between this and ot>-cr arts ? This will ferv:^ greatly to improve and perfect our judgement a.d taile. It was very early obferved, that there was a. relation between the different arts, and fome com- mon principles that determine their excellence.. Cicero mentions this in the introdudion of his ora- tion for Archias the poet. Ktenim omnes artes qu v ad huniari'tatein pertinent^ haheiit quoddam comurune -jinculum^ et quasi cognatlonc quadam inter se conti- 7imtui\
Thefe arts, which, Cicero fays, ad Immaiiitatevi pertine?iti are called by the moderns the fine arts» This is to diilinguilh them from thofe commonly called the mechanic arts,, making the utenfils and conveniences of common life. And yet even thefe may be included, as tafte and elegance, or the v/ant of it may plainly be difcerned in every production of human Ikill. Hov.-e^-er,. thofe called the fine arts are the following : Poetry,, oratory,, mufic, paints ing, fculpture, archite£lure. It mud be allowed, C c 3
50-2 LECTURES ON Le6l. l6.
that though thefe arts have fome common princi- ples of excellence, there are fome perfons who have a ftrong inclination after, and even a capacity of performing in fome of them, and not in others. There are good orators who are no muficians, or perhaps who have very little tafbe for the beauties of architefture. Yet commonly complete critics, and thofe who have a well-formed tafte, are able to perceive the beauty of the whole, and the relation of one to another. It is remarkable, that the expref- fions in compofition are frequently borrowed from one art, and applied to another. We fay, a fmooth, polifhed ftyle, as well as a polilhed furface ; and we fay, a building is fweet or elegant, as well as an oration. We fay, the notes in muiic are bold and fwelling, or warm and animated.
One of our modem authors on eloquence, has thought fit to take exception at the ufe of the word taste y as being of late invention, and £is implying nothing but what is carried in judgement and genius. But I apprehend that the application of it, though it Ihould be admitted to be modern, is perfectly juft^ It came to us from the French. The hon gout among them was applied firft to claflic elegance, and from thence to all the other arts. And as a fenfe of the beauty of the arts is certainly a thing often diftin^l from judgement, as well as from erudi- tion, the term.feems not only to be allowable, but well chofen. We find perfons who can reafon very ftrongly upon many fubjeds, v/ho yet are incapable of elegance in compofition, and indeed of receiving much, delight from the other fine arts. Nay, we find perfons of uncommon acutenefs in mathematics
Ld^» 16. ILOQUENCE. 303
and natural philofophy, who yet are incapable of attaining to a fine tafte.
It has been fometimes faid, that tade is arbitrary. Some will have it, that there is no fuch thing as a flandard of tafte, or any method of improving it. It is a kind of common proverb with many, that there is no difputing about tafte : that it is of this intelledual as of natural tafte ; according as the pa- late or orc^ans are differently formed, what gives an agreeable reliih to one, gives a difagreeable one to another. They fay that the modes of tafte are temporary and variable — that different nations, cli- mates, governments, and ages, have different ways of fpeaking and writing, and a diff*erent turn in all the arts — that chance, or particular perfons, will be able to give a turn to the mode in all thefe. Even fo great a man as Dr Warburton has embraced this fentiment, and to thofe who attack the fcriptures as not being a complete model of eloquence he anfwers, there is no fixed ft andard of eloquence \ that eloquence is one thing in Arabia, another in Greece, and another in England. For this reafon he condemns thofe who, after the example of Mr Blackwall, in his Sacred Claflics, vindicate the fcriptures from objeftions of this kind, or produce inftances of their fublimity and beauty. But though I have ftiown you in fome of the former difcourfes, that the ftyle and manner in 'vogue will receive fome tindlure, and be liable to fome variation, ifrom all the par- ticulars mentioned ; yet there is certainly a real beauty or deformity in nature, independent of thefe partial changes, which, when properly explained, and examples of it eihibited, will obtain more oni-.
5^4 LECTURES ON L8<51. l6;
verfcil approbation, and retain it longer than the others. The poetry and oratory of the ancients, and their painting and ilatuary, are inllances and proofs of this. It may alfo appear from wliat I mention- ed to you formerly, that thofe compofitions whicli have moil fimplicity, and fuch excellencies as are moll folid, witli feweil of the cafual ornaments of falhion, and the peculiarities of their own age, will pleafe, when tlicir contemporaries are loft in ob- livion. The fame thing holds with pieces of furni- ture that are elegant but plain. Such have the beauties of nature, which belong to every age. But to ihow this more fully, even the remarks upon natural tafte are not true in fuch a fenfe as to weaken what has been fald. For though it is cer- tain, that perfons ufed to the cOarfeft kind of food, which they have often eaten v/ith reliih, may fhow at iirft an averlion to the delicacies of cookery, yet after a perfon has been a little accuftomed to that kind of preparation of viftuals in which regard is had to the mixtures that are ipoft proper to gratify the palate, he will not eafily return to his flovenly provilion. But though there were lefs in this re- mark, it feems plain, that there is a tafte in the fine arts, and a real foundation for it in nature.
But fuppofing that there is a foundation in nature for tafte and criticifm, there is another queftion that arifes, viz. Can we tell what it is ? Can we reach the original principles which govern this matter I Can we 'fay, not only that fuch and fuch things pleafe us, but why they do fo ? Can we go any- further than we have already done, as to compofi- tion ? gome have refufed that we can with certainty
Lea. 16. ELOQUENCE. 3O5
reach the fource of this fubjecl. When the caufc is aiked, whj one perfon, one thing, or one com- pofition, is more excellent than another, they fay it is an immediate and fimple perception, a je ne scats quoiy as the French fay ; which phrafe feems to have taken its rife from the circumflance which often occurs, that in a houfe, a garden, a ftatue or paint- ing, or even in a perfon's countenance and carriage, you perceive fomething agreeable upon the whole, and yet cannot fuddenly tell wherein it lies, the parts are not better proportioned perhaps, nor the features better formed, than in another, and yet there is fomething in the compofition of the whole that gives the moft exquiiite delight.
Others, how^ever, and the far greateft number, have thought it proper to go a great deal further, and to inquire into human nature, its perceptions and powers, and endeavour to trace cut the princi- ples of tafte, which apply in general to all the fine arts, or in greater or lefs proportion to each of them, for fome apply more to one than to others. As for example, if the fenfe of harmony is an origi- nal perception, it applies chiefly to mufic, and re- motely to the pronunciation of an orator, and ftill more remotely to the compofition of an orator. Thefe powders or perceptions in human nature have been generally called the powers of imagination. Mr Hutchinfon calls them reflex fenfes, finer inter- nal fenfations ; and upon examination we fhall find, that, befides the internal fenfes, there are certain finer perceptions, which we are capable of, which may be faid to take their rife from outward objeds^
306 LECTURES 01^ Le(^. 16,
and to fuppofe the external fenfation, but yet to be additions to, and truly diftind froin it. As for ex- ample, I fee a beautiful perfon. My eye immediate- ly perceives colour, and fhape varioufly difpofe^; but I have further a fenfe of beauty in the whole. I hear the found of mulical inilruments ; my ear re- ceives the noife ; every body's ear who is not deaf does the fame. If I have a fenfe of harmony, I take a pleafure in the compofition of the founds. The way to examine the principles of talle, is to confider which of thefe perceptions are limple, im- mediate, and original ; which of them are depend- ent upon others ; and how they may be combined and compounded, and afford delight by fuch com- poiition.
This is an extenfive fubje£l:, and it is difficult to treat it concifely, and yet plainly ; and indeed, after all the pains I can take, there will be reafon to ap- prehend fome obfcurity wull remain to perfons not ufed to fuch kind of difquifitions. The way I fhall take is, to llate to you critically or hiilorically the way in which this matter hath been treated by fome of the moft celebrated writers. The Spectator, written by Mr Addifon, on the Pleafures of the Ima- gination, reduces the fources of delight or appro- bation to three great clailes, novelty, greatnefs, and beauty. He fays, that fuch is our denre after no- velty, that all things that were before unknown, are from this circumftance recommended to us, and that we receive a delight in the difcovery and con* templation of what we never faw before, except fuch objeds as are painful to the organs of fight •,
Left. 1 6. ELOQUENCE. 307
that children run from one play-thing to another, not becaufe it is better, but new ; that it is the fame cafe with men; and that authors in particular are at great pains to have fomething new and flriking in their manner, which is the more difficult to be at- tained that they muft make ufe of known words, and that their ideas too muft be fuch as^ are eafily intelligible. There is fomething here that would require a good deal of explication. I do not think that any object is, properly fpeaking, painful to the organs of fight, except too much light j but we do not confider this as a fault in the objeft, Ijut feel it as a weaknefs in ourfelves. And further, if there be fuch a thing as beauty, one would think, that if beauty be agreeable, it muft have a contrary, which is uglinefs, and that muft be difagreeable. As ta greatnefs, this has been always confidered as a fource of admiration. The moft ancient critics obferve, that we do not admire a fmall ri\^et, but we admire the Danube, the Nile, the ocean. This I udll afterwards confider. As to beauiy, it has been confidered as of all other things moft inconceiv- able, and therefore made a firft and immediate per- ception.
Others have taken beauty and grace as the ge- neral terms, including every thing that pleafes us. Thus we fay, a beautiful poem, ftatue, landfcapc. Thus alfo v.e fay, a fublime and beautiful-fentlment. Thus they have taken in under it, novelty and great- nefs, and every other agreeable quality. Many eminent critics havcacled in this manner, particu- iTirly the ancients. Longinus, on the Sublime, ia*
308 LECTURES oN Left. i6.
troduces feveral things which do not belong to it, as diftinguifhed from beauty. Taking beauty as the general objecl of approbation or fource of de- light, and as applicable to all the fine arts, it has been varioufly analyfed,
A French writer, Croufaz, Traite de Beau, ana- lyfes beauty under the following principles : Varie- ty, unity, regularity, order, proportion. Variety is the firft. This feems to be related to, or perhaps in fome refpe6ls the fame with novelty, which was formerly mentioned. It is certain, that a dead uni- formity cannot produce beauty in any fort of per- formance, poem, oration, llatue, pifture, building. Unity is, as it were, the bound and reftraint of variety. Things mull be connected as well as va- rious ; and if they are conneded, the variety is no- thing but confufion. Regularity is the fimilarity of the correfpondent parts ; order is the eafy grada- tion from one to another ; and proportion is the fuitablenefs of each part to the whole, and to every other part. I think it cannot be denied, that all thefe have their influence in producing beauty.
» One of the mod celebrated pieces upon this fub- jed, is the famous painter Hogarth's Analyfis of Beauty. He firil produced his fyftem in a fort of enigma, drawing one curved line, with the title of the line of beauty, and another with a double wave, •Vvhich he called the line of grace. He afterwards publilhed his Analyfis of Beauty, which he refolves into the following principles : Fitnefs, variety, uni- formity, fimplicity, intncapy, and quantity. The foft principle is fitnefs j under which he Ihows, that
Le£l. 16. ELOQUENCE. 3C9
we always conceive of a thing as intended for fome ufe, and tlierefore there muft be a ccn-efpondencc or fuitablenefs to the ufe, otherwife, whatever be its appearance, we rejedt it as not beautiful. He in- fiances failors, who, whenever there is a fhip that fails well, they call her a beauty. The fame thing will apply perfectly to all kinds of writing : for whatever fine fentiments and noble expreflion be in. any compofition, if they are not fuited to the feafoa and fubjecL, we fay with Horace, Sed nunc non erat his locus. Variety and uniformity mufl be com- pounded together ; and as he has made no mention of order and proportion, it is to be fuppofed, that by variety he meant that which changes in a gradual and infenlible manner; for variety without order is undiflinguilhable, and a heap of confufion. Sim- plicity means that which is eafy, and which the eye travels over and examines without difficulty ; and intricacy is that which requires fome exercife and attention to follow it ; thefe two muft limit one another. In reprefenting beauty as a viiible figure, he obferves, that a ftraight line has the leaft beau- ty ; that which has a w^ave or eafy declination one way begins to be beautiful ; that which has a double wave has ftill greater grace. The truth is, if thefe two things do not deftroy the one the other, fimplicity and intricacy improve and beautify one another. Mr Hogarth obferves, that ringlets of hair waving in the vdnd have been an exprelfion of grace and elegance in every age, nation, and lan- guage ; which is juft a contrafted wave, firft, that Vol. VH. D d
3^0 LECTURES OtT Le£l. 16,
of the curls, and this again rendered a little more intricate by the motion of the breeze. If one would have a view of this principle as exhibited in a fingle kind, let him look at the flouriflies with which the mafters of the pen adorn their pieces, and he will fee, that if thej are eafy and gradual in their flexions, and jufl as intricate as the eye can follow without confuiion, any thing lefs than that is lefs beautiful, and any thing more deftroys the beauty by diforder. I might fliow you how this principle applies to all the art, but fliall only mention com- pofition, where the fimplicity muft be combined with refinement, and when the combination is juft, there refults the moft perfed elegance. Mr Ho- garth adds quantity ; that a thing having the other qualities, pleafes in proportion as it is great ; as we fay, a magnificent building, where the proportions are truly obferved, but every part is large.
I have only to obferve, that Mr Hogarth has very well illuftrated the principles of beauty ; but at the fame time he feems to have introduced two, which belong to other fources of delight, vaz. fitnefs and quantity, as will be fhown afterwards.
It is to be obferved, that in the enumeration of the principles of beauty, there are to be found in fome authors things not only different, but oppolite. A French author, not many years ago, to the prin- ciples mentioned by others, adds ftrength, which he illuftrates in this manner : He confiders it as a principle of grace and beapty in motion, and fays that every thing that we do with great difficulty, gnd that feems to require our utmoll effort, is feea
Lecl. 16. ELOQUENCE. 311
with uneafincfs, and not with pleafure. For this reafon, he fajs the motions of young people in ge- neral are more graceful than thofe of old ; and agree- ably to this we join the word ease to gracefulnefs as explicatory ^ — a graceful, eafy carriage. With this explication it feems abundantly proper to admit the remark. On the other hand, there are fome who have made comparative weaknefs a principle of beauty, and fay, that the more light and flendt^r any thing is, unlefs it be remarkably weak, it is the more beautiful, and that things remarkably Urong rather belong to another clafs. Thus we fay, a fine, tender, delicate fliape — and, on the contrary, we fay, a ilrong, coarfe, robuil make — a flrong, coarfe, mafculine woman. Perhaps we may recon- cile thefe two, and fay, they are both principles, be- caufe there fliould be juft as much of each as is fuit- able to the thing in queftion, that a perfon may have either too ilrong or too weak a frame, for be- ing efleemed beautiful — that a pillar or dome may be too delicate to be durable, or too ftrong and bulky to be elegant.
Again: Many writers, as you have feen, make greatnefs a principle of beauty; yet there are others who make littlenefs one of the conftitucnts'of beau- ty. Thofe who do fo tell us, that /:ft/e is a tern^ of endearment, in every nation and language vec known ; that it is the language of the vulgar, and therefore the undefigned expreflion of nature. They inftance the diminutive appellations wjiich are aUvays ufed in fondling j—j^.VsZv.v, ^-^//c /a, have Dd 2
3^2 LECTURES ON Ltd:. j6*
more affeclion, than J^/ius and Jilia — my dear little creature — it is a pretty little thing. To enumerate the fe different appearances, fome, particularly Burke on the Sublime, affirms, that the ideas of fublimity and beauty are ideas of a clafs radically different ; that the firft, fublimity, ultimately arifes from the paflion of terror, and the other from that of love and delight ; he, with a good deal of ingenuity, re- folves all the fources of the fublime into what is either terrible, or allied to this paflion, exciting it either immediately in fome degree, or by alTocia- tion. It is however uncertain, whether we fhould reduce what we receive fo much delight from, to a paflion, which in itfelf, or in its purity, fo to fpeak, is painful. This objection he endeavours to remove, by fhewing that the exercife of all our pafEons in a moderate degree, is a fource of pleafure ; but per- haps we may diftinguifh the ideas of fublime and beautiful, without having recourfe to the paflion of terror at all, by faying, that there is an aiTeclion fuited to ih2 greatnefs of objects, without coniider- ing them as terrible, and that is, veneration : na}^, perhaps v/e may go a little further, and fay, that veneration is the afTeftion truly correfpondent to greatnefs, in innocent creatures, which becomes terror In the guilty. I cannot go through the particulars of Burke's theory. He feems rightly to devide the ideas of fublime and beautiful ; by the union of which, fome have made one thing, otliers direftly its con- trary, to belong to beauty. One thing remarkable in Burke's Efiay is, that he denies proportion to be any of the caufes of beauty, \\dnch yet almoft every
LcS:. i6. ELOQUENCE. 315
other writer has enumerated among them; and what he fays of the infinitelj various proportion in plants and animals, feems to be much in fupportof his opinion : yet in works of art, proportion feems of much moment ; and it is difficult to fay to what fource to refer it. I view a building, and if the parts are not in a regular proportion, it otTends mj eye, even though I 'could fuppofe that the difproportioii was voluntary, in order to obtain fome great con- venience.
I (houldbe inclined to think, that there are a con- fiderable number of llmple principles, or internal fenfations, that contribute each its prirt in formiiifj our tafte, and are capable of being varioufly combin- ed, and by this combination arc apt to be confounded one with another. One of the moH diftincl and com- plete enumerations, we have in Gerard's EiTay on T&fte, and is as follows : A fenfe of novelty, fublimit y, beauty, imitation, harmony, ridicule, and virtue. I cannot go through all thefe in order, but liiall make a few remarks, and fliow where the diviiion is juil or defective. His diftinguifhing all thefe from one another, is certainly juft ; but there are fome thinp^s that he introduces under wrong heads ; fitnefs, for example, he introduces under the head of beauty ; and this feem.s rather a fource of approbation dif- tin<Sl in itfelf ; as alfo proportion, if that is not in- cluded in fitnefs. Perhaps a more complete enume- ration than ?.ny of them, may be given thus : Novel- ty, fublimity, beauty, proportion, imitation, harmony, ridicule, utility, and virtue.
3M LECTURES ON Lefl. i6.
Vv^e fliall now proceed to thofe we have not fpo- ken of before ; imitation certainly gives great plea- fure to the mind, and that of itfelf, even independent of the obje6l imitated. An exceedingly well imita- ted refemblance of any obje6l, of that which is in- different or even difagreeable in itfelf, gives the higheft pleafure, either from the ad of comparifon, as fome fay, or from its fuggefling the idea of fkill and ingenuity in the imitator. The arts of painting- and flatuary derive their excellence from the perfeftion of imitation j and it is even thought that poetry and oratory may be confidered in the fame light, only that the firft imitates form, and paflions by the means of form, and the other imitates adions and affections by language, as the inftrument.
Harmony is the mofl: diflin£l and feparate of all the internal fenfes that have been mentioned ; it is concerned only in found, and therefore muft be but remotely applicable to the writer and fpeaker. What is remarkable, that although harmony may be faid to be of much importance in fpeaking, there are many examples of the moil excellent fpeakers, that yet have no mufical ear at all, and I think the inftances of thofe who have a remarkably delicate mufical ear, and at the fame time are agreeable fpeakers, are not many.
The fenfe of ridicule is not very eafily explained, but it is eafily underftood when fpcken of, becaufc it is univerfally felt. It differs" in this from moft other of our conftitutional powers, that there is fcarcely any man who is not fenfible of the ridicu- lousp or may be made eafily fenfible of it j and jet
Led. 16. ELOQi-ESCE. 31^
the number of good performers in the srt of ridicu- ling others, or in v/it and humour, is but ver j f malL The multitude ^vho cannot follow fpecuiative rea- foning, and are .hard to be moved bv eloquence, are all ftruck with works of humour. Mod people ^ are apt to think thej can do fomething in the way of humour ; and yet we have many who render themfelves ridiculous by tVe attempt.
As to a fenfe of virtue, by mentioning it, '^r is by no means from my joining whh thofe who would place moral approbation entirely on the fame foot- in cr with the internal fenfes, that are the foundation of tafte. Hatchinfon and Shafiefbiiry mcline very much this way ; on the contrary, I think we are evidently fenfible that the morality of actions is a different fpecies, and arifes from the fenfe of a law, and obligation of a luperior nature : yet I have mentioned it here, becaufe tliere is certainly a rela- tion, or connecting tie, between the fentiments of the one kind and of the other. The beauties of nature, w^e are fenfible, are greatly heightened by adding to their delightful appearance, a reflection on their utility, and the benevolent intention of their author. In perfons capable of morality, as in human nature, we confider fine features and an ele- gant carriage, as indications of the moral difpofition or the mental powers ; and as the whole of the foufces of delight mentioned above may be com- bined in a greater or leffer degree, as novelty, fub- limity, beauty, Sic. fo the governing principle which ought to direct the application of the whole, is what gives them their higheil excellence, and
3l6 LECTURES o>^ Lecl. ^i6.
indeed only is their true perfe6lion. The gratifica- tion even of our internal fenfes is highly improved, when united with tafte and eleo-ance ; as the moil delicious food, when ferved up with neatnefs and order, accompained with politenefs of manners, and feafoned with fprightlj conVerfation. In the fame manner, the line arts themfelves acquire a double beauty and higher rellfh, when they are infepara- bly conneded with, and made fubfervient to purity of manners. An admirable poem, or an eloquent difcourfe, or a fine pi ft are, would be ft ill more ex- cellent, if the fubjefl of them were interefling and valuable ; and when any of them are perverted to impious or wicked purpofes, they are juft objects of deteiliation.
After having thus attempted the analyiis of the principles of tafle and elegance, I would obferve, that as nature feems to delight in producing many great and different efFefts from fimple caufes, per- haps we may find an ultimate principle that governs all thefe. A French author has written a treatife called the Theory of Agreeable Senfations, in which he fays, that the great principle is, whatever ex- ercifes our faculties, without fatiguing them, gives pleafure ; and that tliis principle may be applied to our bodily form, and to tlie conflitution of our mind, to objefts of external fenfation, to objedf s of tafte, and even to our moral conduct. It may no doubt be carried through the whole of criticifm ; and we may fay, this ftates the bounds between variety and uniformity, fimplicity and intricacy, order, propor- tion, and hcirniony.
Le<^. l5. ELOQUENCE. 3x7
Neither would it be difRciilt to fliow, that this principle maj be applied to morality, and that an inflnitelj wife and gracious God had fo ordered matters, that the moderate exercife of all our powers fhould produce at once virtue and happinefs, and that the leaft tranfgrefTion of the one mud prove of neceffitj an injury to the other.
You may fee from the preceding remarks, that the foundation is laid for tafte in our nature ; yet there is great room for improvement and cultiva- tion ; — by inv^eftigating the grounds of approbation; by comparing one thing with another ; by ftudying the beft examples ; and by refledlion and judgement, men may corred and reiine their tade upon the whole, or upon particular confined fubje£ls.
Carrying tafte to a finical nicety in any one branch, is a thing cot only undefirable, but con- temptible; the reafon of which may be eafily feen: when a perfon applies his attention fo much to a matter of no great moment, it occafions a neceiTary negleft of other things of mtich greater value. After you pafs a certain point, attachment to a par- ticular purfait is ufelefs, and then it proceeds to be hurtful, and at lafl ccntcn.ptibie.
END OF VOLUME VH.
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