Chapter VIII: Appendix (4)

You entitle your work _A Dissertation on the principles of Eloquence_: but the real subject of it, is an _Opinion_, or _Paradox_, as you chuse to term it, delivered by the Bishop of _Gloucester_ in his late discourse _on Grace_. This opinion, indeed, concerns, or rather, in your ideas, subverts, _the very principles_ of Eloquence, which your office, it seems, in a learned society obliged you to maintain: so that you cannot be blamed for giving some attention to the ingenious Prelate’s paradox, which so incommodiously came in your way. Only the more intelligent of your hearers might possibly think it strange that, in a set of rhetorical lectures, addressed to them, the _Controversial_ part should so much take the lead of the _Didactic_: or rather, that the _Didactic_ part should stand quite still, while the _Controversial_ keeps pacing it, with much alacrity, from one end of your Dissertation to the other.

Yet neither, on second thoughts, can you be blamed for this conduct, which one way or other might serve to the instruction of your young auditory; if not in _the principles of Rhetoric_, yet in a better thing, _the principles of Logic_. It might, further, serve to another purpose, not unworthy the regard of a rhetoric lecturer. The subject of Eloquence has been so exhausted in the fine writings of antiquity, and, what is worse, has been so hackneyed in modern compilations from them, that your discourse wanted to be enlivened by the poignant controversial air, you have given to it, and to be made important, by bringing an illustrious character into the scene.

All this I am ready to say in your vindication, if your conduct may be thought to require any. Having, therefore, nothing to object to the _general design_, or _mode_ of your dissertation, I shall confine myself entirely to the MATTER of it, after acquainting the reader, in few words, with the occasion and subject Of this debate.

The Bishop of _Gloucester_, in late theological treatise on _the doctrine of Grace_, which required him to speak fully to the subject of _inspiration_, found it necessary to obviate an objection to what he conceived to be the right notion of _inspired scripture_, which had been supported by some ingenious men, and very lately by Dr. MIDDLETON. The objection is delivered by the learned Doctor, in these words.

“If we allow the gift [of inspired languages] to be lasting, we must conclude that some at least of the books of scripture were in this inspired Greek. But we should naturally expect to find an inspired language to be such as is worthy of God; that is, pure, clear, noble and affecting, even beyond the force of common speech; since nothing can come from God but what is perfect in its kind. In short, the purity of PLATO, and the eloquence of CICERO. Now, if we try the apostolic language by this rule, we shall be so far from ascribing it to God, that we shall scarcely think it worthy of man, that is, of the liberal and polite; it being utterly rude and barbarous, and abounding with every fault that can possibly deform a language. And though some writers, prompted by a false zeal, have attempted to defend the purity of the Scripture-Greek, their labour has been idly employed[130].” Thus far the learned DOCTOR.

‘These triumphant observations,’ says the Bishop, ‘are founded on two propositions, both of which he takes for granted, and yet neither of them is true:

‘The one, That an inspired language must needs be a language of perfect eloquence;

‘The other, That eloquence is something congenial and essential to human speech[131].’

The BISHOP then undertakes to shew the falshood of these two propositions. YOU, Sir, contend for the truth of the _latter_: and controvert the principles on which the Bishop would confute the _former_. That the reader may be enabled to judge for himself between you, I shall quote his Lordship’s own words, paragraph by paragraph, so far as any thing said by him is controverted by you; and shall then endeavour, with all care, to pick up the loose ends of your argument, as I find them any where _come up_ in the several chapters of your Dissertation; intermixing, as I go along, such reflexions of my own, as the occasion may suggest.

‘With regard to the FIRST proposition (resumes the Bishop) I will be bold to affirm, that were the STYLE of the New Testament exactly such as his [Dr. MIDDLETON’S] very exaggerated account of if would persuade us to believe, namely that it is _utterly rude and barbarous, and abounding with every fault that can possibly deform a language_, this is so far from proving such language not divinely inspired, that it is one certain mark of this original[132].’

By the manner, in which the learned Bishop introduces this _affirmation_, one sees that he foresaw very clearly it would be esteemed a _bold_ one. Nay, in another place[133], he even takes to himself the shame, with which some readers, he well knew, would be forward enough to cover him, and in one word confesses his general notion of eloquence to be a PARADOX: _which yet_, says he, _like so many others, I have had the odd fortune to advance, will be seen to be only another name, for_ TRUTH. After this concession, it had been more generous in you to have omitted some invidious passages; such as that where you say, _the Bishop in his reply to this objection_ [of Dr. MIDDLETON] _seems to have displayed that_ BOLD OPPOSITION TO THE GENERAL OPINIONS OF MANKIND, _by which his learned labours are distinguished_; Intr. p. ii. And again in p. vii. where you speak of his principles as _paradoxical_, and implying AN HARDY OPPOSITION TO THE GENERAL SENSE OF MANKIND.

But let the _boldness_ of the Bishop’s principles be what it will, there is small hurt done, provided they turn out, what he seems persuaded they will, only _truths_. Let us attend his Lordship, then, in the proof of his FIRST Paradox.

‘I will not pretend, says he, to point out which books of the N. T. were, or were not, composed by those who had the Greek tongue thus miraculously infused into them; but this I will venture to say, that the style of a writer so inspired, who had not (as these writers had not) afterwards cultivated his knowledge of the language on the principles of Grecian eloquence, would be precisely such as we find it in the books of the New Testament.

‘For, if this only be allowed, which no one, I think, will contest with me, that a strange language acquired by illiterate men, in the ordinary way, would be full of the idioms of their native tongue, just as the Scripture-Greek is observed to be full of Syriasms, and Hebraisms; how can it be pretended, by those who reflect upon the nature of language, that a strange tongue divinely infused into illiterate men, like that at the day of Pentecost, could have any other properties and conditions[134]?’

Here, the features of this bold paradox begin to soften a little. We are something reconciled to it, 1. by being told, what the _rudeness and barbarity_ is, which is affirmed to be _one certain mark_ of an inspired language, namely, _its being full of the idioms of the native tongue_ of the inspired writer: And 2. by being told, that these idioms are equally to be expected whether the new language be infused by divine inspiration, or acquired by illiterate men in the ordinary way. In the _latter_ case, it is presumed, and surely with reason enough (because experience uniformly attests the fact), that a strange language, so learnt, would abound in the native idioms of the learner: All that remains is to shew, that the event would be the same, in the _former_. The Bishop then applies himself, in order, to this task.

‘Let us weigh these cases impartially. Every language consists of two distinct parts; the single terms, and the phrases and idioms. The first, as far as concerns appellatives especially, is of mere arbitrary imposition, though on artificial principles common to all men: The second arises insensibly, but constantly, from the manners, customs, and tempers of those to whom the language is vernacular; and so becomes, though much less arbitrary (as what the Grammarians call _congruity_ is more concerned in this part than in the other), yet various and different as the several tribes and nations of mankind. The first therefore is unrelated to every thing but to the genius of language in general; the second hath an intimate connexion with the fashions, notions, and opinions of that people only, to whom the language is native.

‘Let us consider then the constant way which illiterate men take to acquire the knowledge of a foreign tongue. Do they not make it their principal, and, at first, their only study, to treasure up in their memory the signification of the terms? Hence, when they come to talk or write in the speech thus acquired, their language is found to be full of their own native idioms. And thus it will continue, till by long use of the strange tongue, and especially by long acquaintance with the owners of it, they have imbibed the particular genius of the language.

‘Suppose then this foreign tongue, instead of being thus gradually introduced into the minds of these illiterate men, was instantaneously infused into them; the operation (though not the very mode of operating) being the same, must not the effect be the same, let the cause be never so different? Without question. The divine impression must be made either by fixing the terms or single words only and their signification in the memory; as for instance, Greek terms corresponding to the Syriac or Hebrew; or else, together with that simple impression, another must be made, to inrich the mind with all the ideas which go towards the composing the phrases and idioms of the language so inspired: But this latter impression seems to require, or rather indeed implies, a previous one, of the tempers, fashions, and opinions of the people to whom the language is native, upon the minds of them to whom the language is thus imparted; because the phrase and idiom arises from, and is dependent on, those manners: and therefore the force of expression can be understood only in proportion to the knowledge of the manners: and understood they were to be; the Recipients of this spiritual gift being not organical canals, but rational Dispensers. So that this would be a waste of miracles without a sufficient cause; the Syriac or Hebrew idiom, to which the Disciples were enabled of themselves to adapt the words of the Greek, or any other language, abundantly serving every useful purpose, all which centered in giving CLEAR INTELLIGENCE. We conclude, therefore, that what was thus inspired was the TERMS, together with that grammatic congruity, which is dependant thereon. In a word, to suppose such kind of inspired knowledge of _strange tongues_ as includes all the native peculiarities, which, if you will, you may call their _elegancies_; (for the more a language is coloured by the character and manners of the native users, the more elegant it is esteemed) to suppose this, is, as I have said, an ignorant fancy, and repugnant to reason and experience.

‘Now, from what has been observed, it follows, that if the style of the N. T. were indeed derived from a language divinely infused as on the day of Pentecost, it must be just such, with regard to its style, as, in fact, we find it to be; that is to say, Greek words very frequently delivered in Syriac and Hebrew idiom.

‘The conclusion from the whole is this, that _nominal_ or _local_ barbarity of style (for that this attribute, when applied to style, is no more than nominal or local, will be clearly shewn under our next head) is so far from being an objection to its miraculous acquisition, that it is one mark of such extraordinary original[135].’

I have given this long quotation together, that the reader may comprehend at one view the drift and coherence of the Bishop’s argument: which is so clearly explained that what force it hath, can receive no addition from any comment of mine upon it.

It is true, this force appears to you no mighty matter—“We are told, you say, that, in order to convey clear intelligence to a foreigner, nothing more is necessary, than to use the _words_ of his language adapted to the _idiom_ of our own. But shall we always find correspondent words in his language[136]?”

Shall _we always find correspondent words_?—Not always, _perfectly_ correspondent. Where does the Bishop say, we shall? Or, how was it to his purpose to say it? He does indeed speak of _such a correspondency of terms_, and chiefly _of such an adaption of the terms of one language to the idiom of another_, as shall abundantly serve to give _clear intelligence_. And this is all he had occasion to say.

Well, but an exact correspondency of terms is material. To what? To give _clear intelligence_? But if this be true, no clear intelligence can possibly be given in any translation from one language into another; for, in all translations whatever, it is necessary to render some words by others, that are not perfectly correspondent. You will scarcely deny that our English translation of the Gospels conveys, in general, _clear intelligence_ to the English reader, though many terms are used in it, and were of necessity to be used, that do not perfectly and adequately correspond to the Greek terms, employed by the sacred writers. Without doubt it was your purpose to convey _clear intelligence_ to your English reader in the elegant translations, they say, you have made of DEMOSTHENES: and yet doubtless you will acknowledge that many words of the Athenian orator are not perfectly correspondent to those employed by you in your version of them.

What follows from this? Why, either that all translations must be exploded and set aside as insufficient to give clear intelligence, or that we must accept them, with all their unavoidable imperfections, as, in general, sufficiently representative of the sense of their originals, though in some particulars that sense be inadequately conveyed to us.

But how then, you will say, shall we gain a clear and perfect intelligence of such particulars? Why in the way, which common sense suggests; by inquiring, if we are able, what the precise meaning is of those terms of the original language, to which the translated terms are thus imperfectly correspondent. And if this be an inconvenience, ’tis an inconvenience necessarily attending every translation in the world, in which a writer would express the mixed modes denoted by the words of any other. For supposing the Greek tongue, infused by divine inspiration into the sacred writers, to have been that of PLATO or DEMOSTHENES himself, you will hardly pretend that it could have furnished them with Greek terms perfectly expressive of such compound ideas as certain Syriac or Hebrew terms expressed, and of which their subject obliged them to give, as far as the nature of the case would permit, _clear intelligence_. So that I cannot for my life comprehend the drift of that short question, _Shall we always find correspondent terms in a foreign language?_ or, the pertinence of your learned comment on the text of CICERO’S letter to SERVIUS.

I am sensible indeed, that, if the _terms_ only of the new language were divinely infused, _these_, whether perfectly correspondent or not, would be insufficient of themselves to give clear intelligence. But the Bishop supposes more than this to be infused; for, _what was inspired, he tells us, was the terms_, TOGETHER _with that grammatic congruity which is dependent thereon_. Now this knowledge of the _grammatic congruity_ of any tongue, superadded to a knowledge of its _terms_, would methinks enable a writer to express himself in it, for the most part, _intelligibly_.

I confess, the Bishop speaks—_of fixing the terms or single words_ ONLY, _and their signification, in the memory_—But then he does not mean to exclude the _grammatic congruity_ in the use of them, which, as we have seen, he expressly requires in the very same paragraph, but merely to expose the notion of the _phrases and idioms_ being required, too. His Lordship speaks of the _terms, or single words_ ONLY, in opposition to _phrases and idioms_: you seem to speak of _terms, or single words_ ONLY, in opposition to _systematic congruity_.

I say, you _seem_ so to speak: for, otherwise, I know not what to make of all you say concerning the insufficiency of the _terms only_ of any language to give intelligence. And yet, in what follows, you _seem_ to do justice to the Bishop, and to admit that, besides the _terms_, a _grammatic congruity in the use of them_ was divinely inspired. For you go on to observe, “That the real purport of almost every sentence, in every language, is not to be learned from the signification of detached words, _and their grammatical congruity_, even where their signification may be expressed by correspondent words in another language[137].”

And here, Sir, your learning expatiates through several pages: the purpose of all which is to shew, that, if the _terms_ of one language, though _congruously used_, be strictly adapted to the _idiom_ of another, still they would give no intelligence, or at least a very obscure one; as you endeavour to prove by a _decent_ instance taken from your countryman, SWIFT, in his dotages; and another, given by yourself in a literal version of a long passage of a sacred writer. It is true, in this last instance, you do not confine yourself to the strict observance of _grammatic congruity_. If you had done this, it would have appeared, from your own instance, that _intelligence_ might have been given, and with tolerable _clearness_ too, even in a literal version.

But be it allowed, that, if the terms of one language, even though a congruous construction be observed, be constantly and strictly adapted to the _idioms_ of another, the expression will still, many times, be very dark and obscure: how is this _obscurity_ to be prevented? Take what language you will for the conveyance instruction, it will be necessary for the reader or hearer to gain a competent knowledge of its idioms and phraseology, before he can receive the full benefit of it. So that, unless there had been a language in the world, native to all nations, and in the strictest sense of the word _universal_, I see not how inspiration itself could remedy this inconvenience. Suppose, as I said before, that the inspired language in which the Apostles wrote had been the purest Greek, still its _idiomatic phraseology_ had been as strange and obscure to all such to whom that language was not native, as the Syriac or Hebrew idioms, by which the Apostolic Greek is now supposed to be so much darkened.

I conclude upon the whole, that nothing you have said overturns, or so much as affects, the learned Prelate’s notion of divine inspiration, _as conveying only the terms and single words of one language, corresponding to those of another, together with that grammatic congruity in the use of them which is dependant thereon_. This _first and grand principle_, as you call it, of the Bishop’s new theory, _is such_, you say, _as no critic or grammarian can admit_[138]. On the contrary, I must presume to think, because I have now shewn, that no critic or grammarian, who deserves the name, can reasonably object to this _principle_, as it allows all that is necessary to be supposed of an inspired language, its sufficiency to give clear intelligence: so _clear_, that, had the idioms of the new language been inspired too, it could not, in the general view of Providence, who intended this intelligence for the use of all people and languages, have been clearer.

But your unfavourable sentiment of the Bishop’s principle arises from your misconception of the _circumstances_, _abilities_, and _qualifications_ of the Apostles, when they addressed themselves to the work of their ministry, and especially to the work of composing books for the instruction of the faithful in this originally inspired language.

When the Greek language was first infused, it would, no doubt, be full of their native phrases, or rather it would be wholly and entirely adapted to the Hebrew or Syriac idioms. This would render their expression somewhat dark and obscure to their Grecian hearers. But then it would be intelligible enough to those to whom they first and principally addressed themselves, the _Hellenistic Jews_, who, though they understood Greek best, were generally no strangers to the Hebrew idiom.

Further still, though this Hebrew-Greek language was all that was originally infused into the Apostles, nothing hinders but that they might, in the ordinary way, improve themselves in the Greek tongue, and superadd to their inspired knowledge whatever they could acquire, besides, by their conversation with the native Greeks, and the study of their language. For, though it can hardly be imagined, as the Bishop says, _that the inspired writers had cultivated their knowledge of the language on the principles of the Grecian eloquence_[139], that is, had formed and perfected their style by an anxious and critical attention to the rules and practice of the Greek rhetors, yet we need not conclude that they wholly neglected to improve themselves in the knowledge and use of this new language. So that, by the time they turned themselves to the Gentiles, and still more by the time they applied themselves to pen the books of the N. T. they might be tolerable masters even of the peculiar phraseology of the Greek tongue, and might be able to adapt it, in good measure, to the Greek idioms.

All this, I say, is very _supposeable_; because their turning to the Gentiles was not till near TEN years after the descent of the Holy Ghost upon the Apostles and the date of their earliest writings, penned for the edification of the Church, was not till near TWENTY years after that period: In all which time, they had full leisure and opportunity to acquire a competent knowledge of the native idiomatic Greek, abundantly sufficient to answer all ends of clearness and instruction.

But I go further, and say, It is not only very _supposeable_, and perfectly consistent with all the Bishop has advanced on the subject of inspiration, that the sacred writers _might_ thus improve themselves, but it is, likewise, very _clear_ and _certain_ that they DID. How else are we to account for that difference of style observable in the sacred writers, whose expression is more or less coloured by their native Hebrew idioms, according as their acquaintance with the Greek tongue was more or less perfect? There were still, no doubt, very many of their own native idioms interspersed in their most improved Greek: As must ever be the case of writers who compose in a foreign tongue, whether acquired in the ordinary way, or supernaturally infused into them: But these barbarisms, as they are called, I mean these Syriasms or Hebraisms, are not so constant and perpetual as to prevent their writings from giving _clear intelligence_. In short, the style of the inspired writers is JUST that which we should naturally expect it to be, on this supposition of its being somewhat improved by use and exercise, and which the learned Bishop _accurately_ (and in perfect _consistency_ with his main principle, _of the terms only being inspired, with the congruous use of them_) defines it to be, “_Greek words_ VERY FREQUENTLY _delivered in Syriac and Hebrew idiom_[140].”

Thus, in every view, the Bishop’s _grand_ principle may be safely admitted. All that we _need_ suppose, and therefore all that is _reasonable_ to be supposed, is, _That the terms of the Greek language, and a grammatical congruity in the use of them_, was miraculously infused: The rest would be competently and sufficiently obtained by the application of ordinary means, without a miracle.

After saying so little, or rather after saying indeed _nothing_, that affects the Bishop’s principle, I cannot but think it is with an ill grace you turn yourself to cavil at the _following incidental observation_ of his Lordship, which yet will be found as true and as just as any other he has made on this subject.

To those who might expect _that, besides the simple impression of the Greek terms only, and their signification_ on the minds of the inspired linguists, _another should have been made to inrich the mind with all the ideas which go towards the composing the phrases and idioms of the language so inspired_ (all which had been necessary, if the inspired language had been intended for a perfect model of Grecian eloquence), the Bishop replies—‘This latter impression seems to require, or rather indeed implies, a previous one of the tempers, fashions, and opinions, of the people to whom the language is native, upon the minds of them to whom the language is thus imparted; because the phrase and idiom arises from, and is dependent on those manners[141].’ But such an impression as this, he goes on to shew, was not to be expected.

It is clear from this passage, that the Bishop is speaking of _an impression_ necessary to be made on the minds of the Apostles, if the inspired language had been so complete as to extend to all its native phrases and idioms. If the Apostles were instantly to possess the inspired Greek in this perfection, it is necessary to suppose that this _last_ impression must, as well as that of the terms, be made upon them. Can any thing, be more certain and undeniable than this _affirmation?_ Yet, in p. 86. of your book, you have this strange passage.

After having shewn, as you suppose, that the Bishop’s grand principle, of the inspiration of the TERMS only, stands on a very insecure foundation, “Perhaps,” you say, “it is no less HAZARDOUS to affirm, that a knowledge of the idiom or phraseology of any language, _always_ implies a previous knowledge of the customs and manners of those to whom it is vernacular.”

You intended, no doubt, in your censure of this hazardous position, to oppose something which the Bishop had affirmed. Be pleased now to cast your eye on the passage you criticize, and tell me where the Bishop asserts, _that a_ KNOWLEDGE _of the idiom or phraseology of any language_ ALWAYS _implies a previous knowledge of the customs and manners of those to whom it is vernacular_. What the Bishop asserts is, _That an_ IMPRESSION _of the phrases and idioms of an inspired language implies a previous_ IMPRESSION _of the tempers, fashions, and opinions of the people to whom the language is native, upon the minds of them to who the language is_ THUS _imparted_: that is, if a knowledge of the idioms had been _impressed_, a knowledge of the customs and manners from which those idioms arise, and without a knowledge of which they could not be understood (as they were to be, by the recipients of this spiritual gift), must have been _impressed_ likewise. No, you say: a _knowledge_ of the idiom of a language does not _always_ imply a previous _knowledge_ of the manners. Who says, it does? We may come to _know_ the idioms of languages, without a _divine impression_: and without such impression, for any thing appears to the contrary, the Bishop might suppose the sacred writers came by their knowledge, so far as they possessed it, of the Greek idioms. But the _impression_ of such idioms could only come from another and _previous impression_ of the customs and manners: because in this case, without a previous impression of the _customs and manners_, the _idioms_ themselves, when impressed, could not have been understood, nor consequently put to use, by the persons on whom this impression was made. They had no time to recur to Lexicons, Grammars, and Commentaries to know the meaning of the impressed idioms. How then were they, on the instant, to know their meaning at all, but by a _previous impression_ of the manners, from which they arose, and which would put them into a capacity of understanding these impressed idioms?

In a word, the Bishop is speaking of SUPERNATURAL IMPRESSION: you, of NATURAL KNOWLEDGE. No wonder, then, your reasoning and your learning, in the concluding pages of this chapter, should look entirely _beside_ the matter in hand, or, at best, should look so _askew_ on the Bishop’s _hazardous_ position. It is certain, you are far enough out of all danger of encountering it, when you entrench yourself, at length, behind this distant and secure conclusion—“that the knowledge of idiom is so far from requiring, or implying a previous one of tempers, manners, _&c._ that the very CONVERSE of this seems to be the safer principle; and that tempers and manners are not to be learned, without some degree of previous acquaintance with the peculiarities of a language[142]:” a proposition, which though exceptionable enough, as you put it, and even suggesting some pleasant ideas, I am in no humour, at present, to contest with you.

This, SIR, IS THE WHOLE of what I find advanced by you, that hath any shew or appearance of being intended as a Confutation of the argument by which the Bishop supports his FIRST PARADOX; in opposition to Dr. MIDDLETON’S opinion, _That an inspired language must needs be a language of perfect eloquence_. The Bishop has told us in very accurate terms what he conceives the character of an inspired language must needs be: and I have at least shewn, that the character he gives of it may be a just one, notwithstanding any thing you have objected to it in your learned Dissertation.

I now proceed to the Bishop’s SECOND PARADOX; which opposes Dr. MIDDLETON’S _second Proposition, That eloquence is something congenial and essential to human speech, and inherent in the constitution of things_.

‘This supposes, says the Bishop, ‘that there is some certain ARCHETYPE in nature, to which that quality refers, and on which it is formed and modelled. And, indeed, admitting this to be the case, one should be apt enough to conclude, that when the Author of nature condescended to inspire one of these plastic performances of human art, he would make it by the exactest pattern of the _Archetype_.

‘But the proposition is fanciful and false. Eloquence is not congenial or essential to human speech, nor is there any Archetype in nature to which that quality refers. It is accidental and arbitrary, and depends on custom and fashion: it is a mode of human communication which changes with the changing climates of the Earth; and is as various and unstable as the genius, temper, and manners of its diversified inhabitants. For what is PURITY but the use of such terms, with their multiplied combinations, as the interest, the complexion, or the caprice of a writer or speaker of authority hath preferred to its equals? What is ELEGANCE but such a turn of idiom as a fashionable fancy hath brought into repute? And what is SUBLIMITY but the application of such images, as arbitrary or casual connexions, rather than their own native grandeur, have dignified and ennobled? Now ELOQUENCE is a compound of these three qualities of speech, and consequently must be as nominal and unsubstantial as its constituent parts. So that, that mode of composition, which is a model of _perfect eloquence_ to one nation or people, must appear extravagant or mean to another. And thus in fact it was. Indian and Asiatic eloquence were esteemed hyperbolic, unnatural, abrupt and puerile to the more phlegmatic inhabitants of _Rome_ and _Athens_. And the Western eloquence, in its turn, appeared nerveless and effeminate, frigid or insipid, to the hardy and inflamed imaginations of the East. Nay, what is more, each species, even of the most approved genus, changed its nature with the change of clime and language; and the same expression, which, in one place, had the utmost _simplicity_, had, in another, the utmost _sublime_[143].’

The Bishop then proceeds to illustrate this last observation by a famous instance, taken from the first chapter of _Genesis_, and then recapitulates and enforces his general argument in the following manner.

‘Apply all this to the books of the N. T. an authorized collection, professedly designed for the rule and direction of mankind. Now such a rule demanded that it should be inspired of God. But inspired writing, the objectors say, implies the most _perfect eloquence_. What human model then was the Holy Ghost to follow? And a human model, of arbitrary construction, it must needs be, because there was no other: Or, if there were another, it would never suit the purpose, which was to make an impression on the minds and affections; and this impression, such an eloquence only as that which had gained the popular ear, could effect. Should therefore the _Eastern_ eloquence be employed? But this would be too inflated and gigantic for the _West_. Should it be the _Western_? But this would be too cold and torpid for the _East_. Or, suppose the _generic_ eloquence of the more polished nations was to be preferred, which _species_ of it was to be employed? The rich exuberance of the Asiatic Greeks, or the dry conciseness of the Spartans? The pure and poignant ease and flowing sweetness of the Attic modulation, or the strength and grave severity of the Roman tone? Or should all give way to that African torrent, which arose from the fermented mixture of the dregs of _Greece_ and _Italy_, and soon after overflowed the Church with theological conceits in a sparkling luxuriancy of thought, and a sombrous rankness of expression? Thus various were the species’s! all as much decried by a different genus, and each as much disliked by a different species, as the eloquence of the remotest East and West, by one another[144].’

Thus far the learned Bishop, _with the spirit and energy_, as you well observe, _of an ancient orator_[145]; and, let me add, with a justness and force of reasoning, which would have done honour to the best ancient Philosopher. But here we separate again. You maintain, with Dr. MIDDLETON, _that eloquence is something congenial and essential to human speech_: While _I_, convinced by the Bishop’s reasoning in these paragraphs, maintain that it assuredly is not.

The subject, indeed, affords great scope to your rhetorical faculties; and the cause, you maintain, being that, as you conceive, of the antient orators, and even of eloquence itself, you suffer your enthusiasm to bear you away, without controul; and, as is the natural effect of enthusiasm, with so little method and precision of argument, that a cool examiner of your work hardly knows how to follow you, or where to take aim at you, in your aery and uncertain flight. However, I shall do my best to reduce your Rhetoric to Reason; I mean, to represent the substance of what you seem to intend by way of argument against the Bishop’s principle, leaving your eloquence to make what impression on the gentle reader it may.

And, FIRST, in opposition, as you suppose, to the Bishop’s tenet, “_That eloquence is_ NOT _something congenial and essential to human speech_,” you apply yourself to shew, through several chapters, that tropes, metaphors, allegories, and universally what are called by Rhetoricians _figures of speech_, are natural and necessary expressions of the passions, and have their birth in the very reason and constitution of things. To make out this important point is the sole drift of your I, II, III, and IVᵗʰ Chapters; in which you seem to me to be contending for that which nobody denies, and to be disputing without an opponent. At least, you can hardly believe that the Bishop of _Gloucester_ is to be told, that metaphors, allegories, and similitudes are the offspring of nature and necessity, HE, who has, _with the utmost justness and elegance of reasoning_, as you well observe[146], explained this very point, himself, in the DIVINE LEGATION.

What then are we to conclude from these elaborate chapters? Why, that by some unlucky mistake or other, let us call it only by the softer name, of _inattention_, you have entirely misrepresented the scope and purpose of all the Bishop has said on the subject of eloquence. And that this is no hasty or groundless charge, but the very truth of the case, will clearly be seen from a brief examination of the Bishop’s theory, compared with your reasonings upon it.

The position, _that eloquence is something congenial and essential to human speech, supposes_, says the Bishop, _that there is some certain Archetype in nature, to which that quality refers, and on which it is to be formed and modelled_.

The Bishop, you see, requires an _Archetype_ to be pointed out to him of that consummate eloquence, which is said to be _congenial and essential to human speech_. The demand is surely reasonable; and not difficult to be complied with, if such an Archetype do, in fact, subsist. But do you know of any such? Do you refer him to any such? Do you specify that _composition_? or do you so much as delineate that _sort_ of composition, which will pass upon all men under the idea of an Archetype? Nothing of all this. Permit us then to attend to the Bishop’s reasoning, by which he undertakes to prove that no such Archetype does or can exist.

‘The proposition [that asserts, there is such an Archetype] is fanciful and false. Eloquence is not congenial or essential to human speech, nor is there any Archetype in nature to which that quality refers. It is accidental and arbitrary, and depends on custom and fashion: It is a mode of human communication which changes with the changing climates of the earth; and is as various and unstable as the genius, temper, and manners of its diversified inhabitants[147].’

The Bishop asserts _there is no Archetype_, because eloquence is a variable thing, depending on custom and fashion; is nothing absolute in itself; but relative to the fancies and prejudices of men, and changeable, as the different climes they inhabit. This _general_ reason seems convincing: it appeals to fact, to experience, to the evidence of sense. But the learned Prelate goes further. He analyzes the complex idea of eloquence: he examines the qualities of speech, of which it is made up; and he shews that they are nominal and unsubstantial. Hence it follows, again, That there is no Archetype in nature of perfect eloquence; its very constituent parts, as they are deemed, having no substance or reality in them.

But why should the Bishop condescend to this analysis, when his _general argument_ seemed decisive of the question? For a good reason. When the Bishop asked for an ARCHETYPE, though you are shy of producing any, he well knew that the masters of Eloquence, those I mean who are accounted such in these parts of the world, had pretended to give one. He knew the authority of these masters of human speech with the sort of men, he had to deal with: he therefore takes the Archetype, they have given, and shews, upon their own ideas of eloquence, it is a mere phantom.

It is not to be supposed that the Bishop, in touching incidentally the question of Eloquence in a theological treatise, should follow the Greek and Latin rhetors through all the niceties and distinctions of their Art, or should amuse himself or us with a minute detail of all the particulars which go to the making up of this mighty compound, their ARCHETYPAL IDEA of human eloquence. If he had been so pleased, and had had no better business on his hands, it is likely he could have told us _news_, as you have done, out of ARISTOTLE, LONGINUS, and CICERO. But his manner is to say no more on a subject, than the occasion makes necessary; which, in the present case, was no more than to acquaint his reader, in very general terms, with the constituent parts of eloquence; which he resolves into these three, PURITY, ELEGANCE, and SUBLIMITY.

But this you call _a most illogical division of Eloquence; for that the Bishop hath not only enumerated the constituent parts imperfectly; but, of the three qualities which he hath exhibited, the first is included in the second, and the third is not necessarily and universally a part of eloquence_[148].

The _enumeration_, you say, _is imperfect_. Yet _Purity_, I think, denotes whatever comes under the idea of PROPRIETY, that is, of approved custom, as well as grammatical use, in any language: _Elegance_, expresses all those embellishments of composition, which are the effect of ART: and I know no fitter term than _Sublimity_, to stand for those qualities of eloquence, which are derived from the efforts of Genius, or NATURAL PARTS. Now what else can be required to complete the idea of Eloquence, and what defect of logic can there be in comprehending the various properties of human speech under these three generic names? The division is surely so natural and so intelligible, that few readers, I believe, will be disposed to object with you, _that the first of the three qualities is included in the second, and that the third is not necessarily and universally a part of eloquence_.

But let the Bishop’s enumeration be ever so _logical_, you further quarrel with his _idea_ of these three constituent parts of eloquence, and his reasoning upon them.

‘What; says his Lordship, is PURITY but the use of such terms with their multiplied combinations, as the interest, the complexion, or the caprice of a writer or speaker of authority hath preferred to its equals?’

This idea of purity in language you think strange; and yet in the very chapter in which you set yourself to contemplate and to reprobate this _strange idea_, you cannot help resolving _purity_, into _usage and custom_, that is, with QUINTILIAN, into _consensum_ (_eruditorum_); which surely is but saying in other words with the Bishop, that it consists _in the use of such terms, with their multiplied combinations, as the interest, the complexion, or the caprice of a writer or speaker of Authority hath preferred to its equals_—for _equals_ they undoubtedly were, till that usage or custom took place. When this _consent of the learned_ is once established, every writer or speaker, who pretends to _purity_ of expression, must doubtless conform to it: but previously to such consent, _purity_ is a thing arbitrary enough to justify the Bishop’s conclusion, that this quality _is not congenial and essential to human speech_.

Next, the Bishop asks, ‘What is ELEGANCE but such a turn of idiom as a fashionable fancy hath brought into repute?’

Here, again, you grow very nice in your inquiries into the idea of _fancy_, the idea of _fashion_, and I know not what of that sort. In a word, you go on _defining_, and _distinguishing_ to the end of the chapter, in a way that without doubt would be very edifying to your young scholars in _Trinity College_, but, as levelled against the Bishop, is certainly unseasonable and out of place. For define _elegance_ that you will, it finally resolves into something that _is not of the essence of human speech_, but factitious and arbitrary; as depending much on the taste, the fancy, the caprice (call it what you please) of such writers or speakers, as have obtained the popular vogue for this species of eloquence, and so had the fortune to bring the turn of idiom and expression, which they preferred and cultivated, into general repute.

‘Lastly,’ the Bishop asks, ‘What is SUBLIMITY but the application of such images, as arbitrary or casual connexions, rather than their own native grandeur, have dignified and ennobled?’

To this question you reply by asking another, _Whether sublimity doth necessarily consist in the application of images?_ But, _first_, if what is _called_ Sublimity, _generally_ consists in the application of images, it is abundantly sufficient to the Bishop’s purpose: _Next_, I presume to say, that the sublime of eloquence, or the impression which a genius makes upon us by his expression, consists necessarily and universally in the application of _images_, that is, of bright and vivid ideas, which is the true, that is, the received sense of the word, _images_, (however rhetoricians may have distinguished different kinds of them, and expressed them by different names) in all rhetorical and critical works. _Lastly_, I maintain that these bright and vivid ideas are rendered _interesting_ to the reader or hearer from the influence of ASSOCIATION, rather than _of their own native dignity and grandeur_: of which I could give so many instances, that, for this reason, I will only give your _own_, which you lay so much stress upon, of _the famous oath, by the souls of those who fought at_ Marathon _and_ Platæa[149]: where the peculiar ideas of _interest_, _glory_, and _veneration_, associated to the _image_ or idea of the battle of _Marathon_ and _Platæa_, gave a sublime and energy to this oath of DEMOSTHENES, _by the souls of those that fought there_, in the conceptions of his countrymen, which no other people could have felt from it, and of which you, Sir, with all your admiration of it, have certainly a very faint conception at this time.

I should here have dispatched this article of _Sublimity_, but that you will expect me to take some notice of your objection to what the Bishop observes, ‘That this species of eloquence changed its nature, with the change of clime and language; and that the same expression, which in one place had the utmost _simplicity_, had, in another, the utmost _sublime_[150]:’ An observation, which he illustrates and confirms by the various fortune of the famous passage in _Genesis, God said, Let there be light, and there was light; so sublime_, in the apprehension of LONGINUS and BOILEAU, and so _simple_, in that of HUETIUS and LE CLERC.

To this pertinent illustration, most ingeniously explained and enforced by the learned Prelate, you reply with much ease, “That this might well be, and even in the same place,” and then proceed to _inform_ him of I know not what union between _simplicity_ and _sublimity_; though you _civilly_ add, “That it is a point known to every SMATTERER in criticism, that these two qualities are so far from being inconsistent with each other, that they are frequently united by a natural and inseparable union[151].”

“Simplicity and _sublimity_ may be found together.” I think the proposition false, in your sense of it, at least. But be it true, that these qualities in expression may be found together. What then? The question is of a passage, where these qualities, in the apprehension of great critics, are found separately; the one side maintaining that it is merely _simple_, the other, that it is merely _sublime_. _Simplicity_ is, here, plainly opposed to _sublimity_, and implies the absence of it: BOILEAU, after LONGINUS, affirming that the expression _is_, and his adversaries affirming that it is _not_, _sublime_. Can any thing shew more clearly, that the _sublime_ of eloquent expression depends on _casual associations_, and not on the nature of things?

But the Bishop goes further and tells us, what the _associations_ were that occasioned these different judgments of the passage in question. The ideas suggested in it were _familiar_, to the sacred writer: they were _new_ and admirable, to the Pagan Critic. Hence the expression would be of the greatest _simplicity_ in MOSES, though it would be naturally esteemed by LONGINUS, infinitely _sublime_.

Here you cavil a little about the Effect of _familiarity_: but, as conscious of the weakness of this part of your answer, _Not to insist_, you say, _upon this, How comes it then that_ BOILEAU _and many other Christian readers, to whom the ideas of creation were as familiar as to_ MOSES _himself, were yet affected by the sublime of this passage_? You ask, How this comes to pass? How? Why in the way, in which so many other strange things come to pass, by _the influence of authority_. LONGINUS had said, the expression of this passage was _sublime_. And when he had said this, the wonder is to find two men, such as HUETIUS and LE CLERC, who durst, after that, honestly declare their own feelings, and profess that, to them, the expression was _not_ sublime.

But more on this head of _Authority_ presently.

You see, Sir, I pass over these chapters _on the qualities of Eloquence_, though they make so large a part of your _Dissertation_, very rapidly: and I do it, not to escape from any force I apprehend there to be in your argument or observations, but because I am persuaded that every man, who knows what language is, and how it is formed, is so convinced that those qualities of it by which it comes to be denominated _pure_, and _elegant_, and _interesting_, are the effects of _custom_, _fashion_, and _association_, that he would not thank me for employing many words on so plain a point. Only, as you conclude this part of your work with _an appeal_, which you think sufficiently _warranted, against the most positive decisions of fashion, custom, or prejudice, to certain general and established principles of rational criticism_, subversive, as you think, of the Bishop’s whole theory, I shall be bold to tell you, as I just now promised, what my opinion is, _of these established rules of_ RATIONAL CRITICISM: by which you will understand how little I conceive the Bishop’s system to be affected by this confident appeal to _such principles_.

I hold then, that what you solemnly call _the established principles of rational criticism_ are only such principles as criticism hath seen good to establish _on the practice of the Greek and Roman speakers and writers_; the European eloquence being ultimately the mere product and result of such practice; and European criticism being no further _rational_ than as it accords to it. This is the way, in which ancient and modern critics have gone to work in forming their systems: and their systems deserve to be called _rational_, because they deliver such rules as experience has found most conducive to attain the ends of eloquence in these parts of the world. Had you attended to this obvious consideration, it is impossible you should have alarmed yourself so much, as you seem to have done, at the Bishop’s bold Paradox, as if it threatened the downfall of Eloquence itself: which, you now see, stands exactly as it did, and is just as secure in all its established rights and privileges on the Bishop’s system of _there being no Archetype of Eloquence in nature_, as upon your’s, _that there is one_. The rules of criticism are just the same on either supposition, and will continue the same so long as we take the Greek and Roman writers for our masters and models; nay, so long as the influence of their authority, now confirmed and strengthened by the practice of ages, and struck deep into the European notions and manners, shall subsist.

You need, therefore, be in no pain for the interests of Eloquence, which are so dear to you; nor for the dignity of your _Rhetorical office_ in the University of _Dublin_; which is surely of importance enough, if you teach your _young hearers_ how to become eloquent in that scene where their employment of it is likely to fall; without pretending to engage them in certain chimerical projects how they may attain an essential universal eloquence, or such as will pass for eloquence in all ages and countries of the world.

You see, Sir, if this opinion of mine be a truth, that it overturns at once the whole structure of your book. We, no doubt, who have been lectured in Greek and Roman eloquence, think it preferable to any other; and we think so, because it conforms to certain rules which our criticism has established, without considering that those rules are only established on the successful practice of European writers and speakers, and are therefore no rules at all in such times and places where a different, perhaps a contrary, practice is followed with the same success. Let a Spartan, an Asiatic, an African, a Chinese system of rhetoric be given: Each of these shall differ from other, yet each shall be best and most _rational_, as relative to the people for whom it is formed. Nay, to see how groundless all your fancies of a _rational essential eloquence are_, do but reflect that even the European eloquence, though founded on the same general principles, is yet different in different places in many respects. I could tell you of a country, and that at no great distance, where that which is thought supremely _elegant_ passes in another country, not less conversant in the _established principles of rational criticism_, for FINICAL; while what, in this country, is accepted under the idea of _sublimity_, is derided, in that other, as no better than BOMBAST.