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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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