of an argumentative discourse; and the third entering on the examination of the principles of Style.

CHAPTER I.

THE THREE RHETORICAL GROUNDS OF BELIEF.

It is laid down by Aristotle, as the foundation of the rhetorical art, that the Belief which it is the purpose of eloquence to produce, flows, so far as it is produced by the discourse, from one or another of three causes, and from no others. Either, first, the conclusion has been proved, or seems, to those to whom it is addressed, to have been proved, by arguments directly appealing to the understanding; or, secondly, the discourse has created a bias in favour of the writer or speaker, which makes the conclusion be received on the authority of his assertion; or, thirdly, the discourse has excited in the minds of the hearers or readers other feelings (besides those favourable to the speaker or writer), by which the understanding is in the same way biassed. These in their order will now engage

our attention.

SECT. I.-The Production of Belief by Arguments.

Under the first head we are invited to examine the principles which should direct us in the Discovery of Arguments, and in their Arrangement.

And, first, as to the Discovery of Arguments. For assisting the writer or speaker in this task, the ancient rhetoricians offered means of two kinds. The one was a Classification of Arguments into their different kinds, with illustrative hints as to the proper uses of each. The second was the amassing of a collection of Topics or Commonplaces, of which some were arguments that admitted of being applied in any question of moral reasoning; while others, although not so widely available, were so for all questions embraced under the particular department of oratory in which they were classed.

I. In modern times the use of common-places has been universally decried, as a mere device for qualifying a man to speak or write fluently on subjects of which he is utterly ignorant; and if all objections to the art were as well founded as this, it would be truly a waste of time to study it. The invention was well suited for enabling a subtle and flowery declaimer, like the sophist Gorgias, to justify his famous boast, that he could speak extempore on any given question; but the systematic use of these storehouses of universal topics was utterly preposterous in the business of real life. "Such discourse," says Blair, with great truth, "could be no other than trivial. What is truly solid and persuasive must be drawn ex visceribus causæ, from a thorough knowledge of the subject, and profound meditation on it. They who would direct students of oratory to any other sources of argumentation, only delude them; and, by attempting to render rhetoric too perfect an art, they render it in truth a trifling and childish study." If we thought the ancient Topics really worthy of defence, we would not

be deterred from defending them, either by this grave reasoning, or by the recollection of Corporal Trim's extemporaneous oration on the white bear; but the rebuke of the critic, and the ridicule of the wit, are both well deserved. And yet in this, as in most other errors, we detect merely the misapplication of a truth. For the invention of the Topics is founded on a consideration of the common principles and relations of matters of reasoning in general, and of those matters which are embraced under each particular division of knowledge; and it is manifest that reflection on such general truths as these, although it ought not to be applied as those ancient sophists applied it, is in itself not merely an unobjectionable, but a positively useful and necessary duty, for those who wish either to write well or to think rightly. Even as to the practical use of commonplaces, no one who has been accustomed to hear practised public speakers can have failed to remark, that most of them fall more or less into the repetition of set phrases and ideas, which are as truly common-places as if they had been learned by rote from Boethius or Fortunatianus: and in the oratory of the bar, where extemporaneous fluency is indispensable, the systematic use of common-places is to some extent both advantageous and ordinary. For written compositions common-places are unnecessary and absurd; and we are not encouraged to their adoption by the example of Cicero, who, having sent to Atticus a treatise prefaced by an eloquent introduction, was reminded by his friend that he had already used the passage as the proœmium of another work.

Knowledge of the subject of the composition, and meditation on its facts and principles, must, as our authority just

cited has told us, be substituted for treasuries of commonplaces; and no one has insisted on the necessity of such studies more strenuously than Aristotle, who, although he wrote with the view of aiding public speakers, and therefore, both in his Rhetoric and his Topics, collected those common-places which he considered most useful, yet broadly and repeatedly lays down the doctrine of their total insufficiency as the principal source of the orator's materials. One chapter of the Rhetoric contains as much practical sense on this subject as might satisfy the most determined of modern utilitarians; and we cannot do better than dismiss the Topics by stating its substance, which, although addressed immediately to the case of public speaking, possesses much value even with regard to purely literary compositions. It has been observed, says he, that, for plebeian assemblies, unlearned men are by far the most persuasive orators. And why is this? Simply because they state the particular facts from which they themselves have drawn their inferences, and which the audience know and are qualified to comprehend; while instructed men, addressing the same hearers, puzzle and repel them by enunciating universal truths. This remark is followed by four advices to the orator. First, he is warmly urged to the anxious study of his subject, as in every view essential to his success. Secondly, the advice is enforced by reminding him, that the more facts he knows as to the matter to be handled, the better chance has he of discovering among them some argument which will prove convincing. Thirdly, he is warned that the general rule of oratory which directs the speaker to study and condescend to the characters of his hearers, must be specially applied, so far as his means of

knowledge allow him, to the particular persons whom he happens to address. Fourthly, he is cautioned not to shun the statement of common and well-known facts, but rather to consider these as the great magazine of his arguments.

II. The second sort of aid which the ancient rhetoricians held out for the Discovery of Arguments, namely, that which results from a Classification of their Kinds, is as truly sound and valuable as the other sort is the reverse. It has, however, met with little more favour in the eyes of the moderns; but in our own times, one of the ablest writers on rhetoric has adopted Aristotle's division of arguments, analysing it satisfactorily, and increasing its utility by several excellent supplements of his own. All that follows on this part of the subject may be considered as either suggested by Aristotle and Whately, or in substance directly borrowed from them, except a few incidental remarks and illustrations.

It must be premised, however, that in every thing to be said on this head, reference is made solely to moral truths, as the conclusions sought to be established in argument. All reasoning is of course ultimately founded on admitted truths, and such reasoning as will serve the orator's purpose must be founded on truths admitted by those whom he addresses. Necessary truths, constituting the first principles of the mathematical sciences, can scarcely ever enter into rhetorical consideration in any shape, and may be safely left out of view altogether. Contingent truths, composing the other great class of ultimate principles, and embracing truths moral and physical, compose the great quarry of materials for human thought and reasoning; the latter class,