I.
The Organs of the Voice, and how our Speech is form'd.

WE may speak with our Eyes, and our Fingers, and make use of the motions of those parts to express the Idea's which are present to our Minds, and the Affections of our Wills: But this way of Speaking is not only imperfect, but troublesom. We [Page 2] cannot without much labour express by our Eyes, or our Fingers, all the va­riety of things which occur to our thought: We move our Tongue with ease, and can readily diversifie the sound of our Voice in different manners. For this reason Nature has disposed Man to make use of the Organs of the Voice to give sensible signs of what he wills and conceives.

The disposition of these Organs is wonderful. We have a natural Organ, of which the aspera arteria or Wind-pipe (proceeding from the Lungs to the root of our Tongue) is the passage or Canal. The Lungs are like Bellows, drawing in the Air by their dilatation, and expelling it by their contraction. The part of the aspera arteria next the root of the Tongue is called the Larynx, and is incompass'd with Cartilages and Muscles, by which it opens and shuts. When the orifice of the Larynx is straight, the Air being violently forc'd out, is dash'd and broken, and receives a motion which makes the sound of the Voice; but which is not yet articula­ted. This Voice is received in the [Page 3] Mouth, where the Tongue modifies it, and gives it different forms, according to its propulsion against the Teeth or the Palate; according as it is detain'd or transmitted; or according as the Mouth is more or less open.

This facility of expressing our Sen­timents by the Voice, has caused Man­kind to apply themselves studiously to the consideration of all the differences which it receives from the several mo­tions of the Organs of Pronunciation; and they have distinguished every parti­cular modification by a Letter: These Letters are the Elements of Speech, and though their number be not great, yet they are sufficient for all the Words not only of the present, but of all the past, and future Languages in the World. The conjunction of two or more Letters makes a Syllable; one or more Syllables makes a Word; so that we may say, Speech is a composition of Sounds of the Voice, by Men established to be the signs of their Thoughts, and having the power to awaken the Idea's to which they have annexed them. Their Number is but 24, yet are they capable [Page 4] of composing a prodigious multitude of different Words. I have shown else­where, that 24 several Letters may be so variously transposed, as to make 576 several Words of two Letters. That 24 times as many Words may be form'd of three several Letters, that is to say, 13824 Words. That 24 times as many more may be made of four several Let­ters; and so on proportionably: From whence we may judge of the vast va­riety of Words that might be made of them all, and indeed they are little less than infinite.

And here it is of importance to ob­serve the distinction betwixt the soul of Words and the body; betwixt that in them which is corporeal, and that in them which is spiritual; betwixt that which is common to us with Birds, and that which is peculiar to our selves. The Idea's present to our Mind (when it commands the Organs of the Voice to form such Sounds as are the signs of those Idea's) are the Soul of our Words: The Sounds form'd by the Organs of our Voice (which, though of them­selves they have nothing resembling [Page 5] those Idea's, do notwithstanding repre­sent them) are the material part, and may be called the Body of our Words.

II.
Before we speak, we ought to form a Scheme in our Minds of what we desire to say.

A Painter will not lay on his Co­lours 'till he has formed in his ima­gination what he designs to draw. Discourse is the Picture of our thoughts; the Tongue is the Pencil which draws that Picture; and Words are the Co­lours. We ought therefore in the first place to range our Thoughts, and put such things as we intend to represent by our Words into natural order; disposing them so, that the knowledge of some few of them, may render the rest more easie and intelligible to the Reader.

The Natural Order to be observed in the ranging of our thoughts, belongs [Page 6] properly to those that write of the Art of Thinking. Every Art has its bounds, which are not to be transgress'd. For such things as reiate to the Matter of our Discourse, my following Rules will not be (I suppose) unworthy of Con­sideration. The first is, That we me­ditate upon our Subject, and make all reflexion necessary for the discovery of such means as may direct us to our pro­posed end. We must forget nothing that may make that Subject perspicuous. But it many times happens, that en­deavouring to clear and explain a thing, we overcharge the attention of the Reader, and render it more abstruse, by our prolix explications. Abundance is sometimes the cause of sterility: The Husbandman fears the rankness of his Corn, and feeds his Sheep with it to prevent it. We cannot comprehend any Argument or Science, unless our meditation supply us with things ne­cessary, and retrench what is super­fluous; which pains an Author is to spare to such persons as he undertakes to instruct. A Man that writes by halves, gives an imperfect account; but a great [Page 7] book is a great evil; [...]. We wander in it, we lose our selves, and have scarce patience to turn it over. When therefore we have made an exact collection of all things rela­ting to the matter of which we treat, we must contract them, reduce them to their just bounds, and making a strict choice and selection of what are absolutely necessary, reject the rest as superfluous. We are to be continually intent upon the end to which we would arrive; we are to take the shortest cut to it, and avoid all manner of devia­tion. Unless we slightly run over things of small importance, not at all essential to our design, our Reader will be weary, and his application diverted from such as are.

This Brevity, so necessary to make a Book neat and compact, consists not only in the retrenchment of what is unnecessary, but requires that we insert such circumstances as may illustrate our discourse, and imply many things that are not expressed. For this, we are to imitate the address of Timanthes, the famous Painter, who being to repre­sent [Page 8] the prodigious stature of a Giant in a small picture, painted him lying along in the midst of a Troop of Sa­tyrs, one of which was measuring the Giants Thumb with his Thyrse; inti­mating by that ingenious invention, how vast his Body must needs be, when so small a part of him was to be mea­sured with a Launce. These Inven­tions require much wit, and applica­tion; and therefore it was, that Mons▪ Pascal (an Author very famous for his felicity in comprising much in few words) excused himself wittily for the extravagant length of one of his Let­ters, by saying, he had not time to make it shorter.

III.
To signifie the difference of our Thoughts, we have need of Words of different Orders.

AS we cannot finish a Picture, nor distinguish the different strokes [Page 9] of things to be represented therein, with one single Colour; so 'tis impos­sible to express whatever occurs in our Mind, with Words of one single Or­der. Let Nature be Mistress in this case, and teach us what this distinction ought to be; let us see how Men would form their Language, and make them­selves intelligible one to another, should they be brought together from strange and remote places. Let us make use of the liberty of the Poets, and fetch either out of the Earth or the Heavens a Troop of new Men, altogether igno­rant of the benefit of Words. The sight must needs be agreeable, because it is pleasant to fancy them speaking, and conversing together with their Hands, their Eyes, gestures and con­tortions of their Bodies; but it is plain, it would not be long before they would be weary of these postures, and either chance or discretion would show them the conveniency of Words.

We cannot discover what form they would give to their Language, but by considering what we our selves should do in the same company. Diversity of [Page 10] Words then, being necessary, only in respect of the different things which pass in our Mind, and we are inclin'd to impart; we must observe exactly all that so passes, that we may be enabled thereby to find out what we are to do to paint the different Features of our Thoughts.

When our Organs of Sense are free, and undisturbed, we perceive what it is that strikes them, and at the same time we have the Idea's of such things present to our Mind. For which rea­son these Idea's are not improperly cal­led, The Objects of our Perceptions. Be­sides these Idea's which result from our Senses, there are others fundamentally inherent in our Natures, and not falling that way into our Minds; as those which represent to us Natural and Ori­ginal Truths, such as these, That we are to give every man his due; That it is impossible for a thing to be and not to be at the same time, &c.

Doubtless if these new Men would make it their business to find out Words that might be signs of all these Idea's which are the Objects of our perception [Page 11] (which, according to the Philosophers, is the first operation of the Mind) in the infinite variety of Words, it would not be difficult to find particular signs to mark every Idea, and give it a parti­cular Name. In as much as we natu­rally make use of these primitive No­tions, we may believe, that if other things should present themselves to their Minds, bearing any resemblance or con­formity to those things which they had denominated before, they would not take the pains to invent new words, but (with some little variation) make use of the first Names to denote the difference of the things to which they would apply them. Experience perswades me, that where a proper Word does not occur immediately to our Tongue, we should make use of the Name of some other thing bearing some kind of resemblance to it. In all Languages, the Names of things almost alike have very little dif­ference: From one single Word many other are derived, as is obvious in the Dictionaries of such Languages as we know.

The same Word may be diversified [Page 12] several ways; by transposition, retrench­ment, addition of Vowels or Conso­nants, or by changing the Termina­tion. So that it is no hard matter, when we give the proper Name of a particular thing, to several others that are like it, to signifie by some little va­riation, what such things have in pe­culiar; and in what they differ from the things from whence they have their Names.

IV.
Nouns Substantives, Adjectives, and Articles.

SUch Words as signifie the Object of our Thoughts, (that is to say, Things) are called Nouns. We consider in every thing, its being, and its manner of being: The being of a thing, as for example, the being of Wax, is the sub­stance of Wax. The roundness or squareness of the figure (which may be changed without prejudice to the [Page 13] Wax) are its manners of being. To be ignorant, or knowing, are man­ners of our being. It is necessary there­fore, that among the Names of things, some should be appointed to signifie the substance, and some the manner of their being. Those which describe the ab­solute being of a thing, are called Sub­stantives. Those which describe the manner only, are called Adjectives, because having no natural subsistence of their own, they subsist by nothing but the Noun Substantive to which they are joyned. In these two Words, Round Earth, the last is the Substantive, and the first signifies nothing but its manner of being. Nouns Substantives do be­come Adjectives, or rather things of absolute existence; and substances are expressed by Nouns Adjectives, when being applied to other things, they are used to signifie their manner of being, as in these Adjectives, Silvered, Tinned, Leaded, &c.

Nouns do commonly signifie things in a general and unlimited way: Ar­ticles, in Languages where they are used, (as in Greek, Latin, French, &c.) [Page 14] do serve to restrain and determin the signification of Nouns, and apply them to a particular thing. If we say 'tis a happiness to be King, the expression is vagous, but if you add the to it, and say it is a happiness to be the King, it determins the business, and cannot be understood but of the King of a parti­cular People mentioned before. So that Articles do contribute very much to the clearness of Discourse, and 'tis not impossible but these new Men, in the composure of their Language, would make use of them; and the necessity of determining the unfixed signification of Words would assist to the finding them out.

The different ways of termination; may be instead of another Noun. We find in all Languages that Nouns have two several terminations. One im­ports the thing mentioned to be of the Singular Number, the other of the Plu­ral; for which reason Nouns have ge­nerally two Numbers, the Singular and the Plural. The word Homo, with the termination of the Singular Number, implies only a single Person; but Homines, [Page 15] in the termination of the Plural, implies more Men; the variation of the termi­nation serving instead of all, or many.

V.
How to mark the references which things have among themselves.

VVE do not always consider simply the things that are the Objects of our thoughts; we com­pare them with other things; we re­flect upon the places where they are; upon the time of their duration; upon what they are; what they are not; and upon their references and relations. There is need of particular Terms to express these references, with the Series and Connexion of all the Idea's that the Consideration of these things imprints in our Minds. In some Languages the different terminations of the same Noun do create new differences, and supply those Words which are necessary to ex­press the reference of a thing. These [Page 16] are commonly called Cases, and are six in each Number, both Singular and Plural. The Nominative, the Genitive, the Dative, the Accusative, the Vocative, and the Ablative. The same Noun (be­sides the principal Idea of the thing which it signifies) contains a particular reference betwixt that thing and some other, according as it is in the Genitive or the Dative Case, &c. The Nominative, signifies a thing simply and positively. The Genitive, its reference with the thing to which it relates, as Palatium Regis. The Dative, its relation to the thing as it tends to profit or prejudice, as Utilis Reipublicae. The Accusative, its relation to a thing which acts upon it, as Caesar vicit Pompeium. The Vo­cative, is used when we address our discourse to the person or thing signified by the Noun. The Ablative, is used in such infinite cases, that it is not pos­sible to mark them all.

The Languages whose Nouns do not admit of these different Cases, do make use of little words called Particles with the same effect; as of, the, to, by, they, &c. Adverbs are used likewise with [Page 17] little difference from the Declension of Nouns, carrying with them sometimes the force of those Particles, as this Ad­verb Wisely imports as much as these two Words together, With Wisdom. The different relations betwixt things, in respect of their place, situation, mo­tion, repose, distance, opposition, and comparison, are infinite. We cannot discourse a moment, but something will arise to suggest them. We are not to doubt then, but these men, whom we suppose brought together from remote parts, of no correspondence, would quickly find out some way or other to signifie these references and relations, either by Particles (as in the French, where the Nouns have not that way of Declension) or by the different termi­nations of the Names of the Things themselves, as in the Latin and Greek.

I.
Of the Nature of Verbs.

THe operations of the Mind are re­ferr'd commonly to three princi­pals. Perception, by which we discern the difference of things. Judgment, by which we affirm of a thing, that it is, or that it is not. And Ratiocination, by which we draw consequences to evince the truth or fallacy of a Proposition contested, by comparing it with one or more incontestable Propositions. If we attend seriously to what passes in our Mind, we shall find that we do rarely consider of things, without making judgment of them. So that when these new Men had furnished themselves with words to signifie the objects of their Perceptions, they would doubtless seek out for words to express their Judg­ments, [Page 19] that is to say, the Action of the mind, which affirms that a thing is so, or not so. And the part in discourse which expres­ses our Judgment, is called a Proposition, which Proposition does necessarily com­prehend two Terms, the Subject and the Attribute: The Subject is That of which we affirm: The Attribute is That which is affirmed of the thing. As in this Pro­position: God is just; God is the Subject; Just is the Attribute, it being the thing affirmed, or attributed to the Subject of the Proposition. Besides these two, there is in every Proposition another Term, which couples the Subject with the Attribute, and signifies that Action of the Mind by which we judge, affir­ming the Attribute of the Subject; and the Terms which express this Action, are in all Languages called Verbs. Verbs, as is observed by a judicious Gramma­rian, are words which signifie affir­mation. A single word would suffice to signifie all the like operations of our judgment, as the Verb Esse, which is the natural and ordinary sign of affir­mation. But if we judge of these new Men, by those who have lived in all [Page 20] former Ages, the desire of contracting their discourse, would prompt them to make one word signifie both the affir­mation and attribute, according to the practice in many Languages, where infinite numbers of words doth denote both the affirmation and the thing affir­med. For example, I read imports an affirmation, and the action which I perform when I read, at the same time. These words, as is said before, are called Verbs. And when, in some Lan­guages, they take from them the power of signifying affirmation, they dege­nerate into the nature of Nouns, and are used accordingly, as when in French we say, le boire, le manger.

II.
Of Pronouns. With one single Verb we may be able to express an entire Proposition.

THe frequent repetition of the same words being disagreeable and trou­blesome, [Page 21] and we in the mean time ob­liged to speak often of the same thing; to rectifie that inconvenience, in all Languages that are know to us, there are certain words established which are called Pronouns, and their number is three: The first implies the person spea­king, as I; the second, the person to whom we speak, as You; the third, the person or thing of which we speak, as He, That. These Pronouns have two Numbers, as the Nouns. The Pronoun of the first Person, in the plural Num­ber, implies the persons speaking, as We; the Pronoun of the second Person, in the plural Number, implies the per­sons to whom we speak, as Ye; and the Pronoun of the third Person, in the plural Number, implies the persons or things of which we speak, as They, Those.

Again, to avoid the inconvenient repe­tition of these Pronouns, w ^ch otherwise would often occur; in the ancient Lan­guages they added certain Terminations to their Verbs, which supplied the place of these Pronouns, by which means a single Verb became sufficient to make [Page 22] an entire Proposition; so this Verb Verbero, comprehends the sense of this whole Proposition, Ego sum verberans: And besides that this Verb intimates the affirmation, and the thing affirm'd, it signifies also the person beating, who is the person that speaks of himself; and the reason is, because the Verb has a Termination that supplies the place of the Pronoun of the first Person.

III.
Of the Tenses of Verbs.

VVHat is affirmed of the Subject of a Proposition, is either past, present, or to come. The different inflexions of Verbs, have power to denote the circumstance of time belonging to the thing affirmed. The circumstances of time are very numerous: We may consider the time past with reference to the present, as when I say, I was reading when he en­tred into my Chamber. The act of my reading is past, in regard of the time [Page 23] in which I speak; but I signifie the time present, in regard of the thing of which I speak, which is the entrance of such a man. We may also consider the time past, with reference to ano­ther time past, as I had supp'd when he came in. Both which actions are past, in respect of one another. We may consider the time past two ways, as definite, or indefinite: We may speak precisely, when an action was done; or we may only say, it was done. We consider the Future Tense in the same manner, using sometimes a precise and definite term, and sometimes an inde­finite, without any limitation.

In this new Language that is pro­pos'd, we cannot tell whether all the different circumstances of times would be express'd by so many different in­flexions, because we do not find the people have distinguished with the same exactness all the circumstances of time. The Hebrew Verbs have only two Ten­ses, the Preter Tense, and the Future Tense: They have but two inflexions to express the diversity of times. They make use of the inflexion of the Future [Page 24] Tense, to signifie the Present Tense. The Greeks are more exact, their Verbs have all the Tenses aforesaid. Yet I doubt not, but the Terms of this new Language would bear at least the signs of some of these circumstances, seeing in every Proposition the time of the Attribute is to be determined; and the desire to abbreviate our discourse, is na­tural to all men. When I say, I shall love, the inflexion of the Future Tense that I give to that Verb, eases me of the trouble of this long Phrase, It will happen some time or other that I shall be in love. When I say, I have loved, the inflexion of the Preterperfect Tense saves me several of these Words, There was formerly a time when I was in love.

IV.
By Verbs may be signified the divers manners of affirming, and certain circumstances of the action which they imply.

VErbs have their Moods, that is to say, they signifie, besides the cir­cumstances of time, the manner of the affirmation. The first is the Indi­cative Mood, which demonstrates sim­ply what we affirm. The second is the Imperative, and implies a command to such a one to do such a thing. The third is the Optative, a Mood of great use among the Greeks, and intimating an ardent desire that such a thing may happen. The fourth is the Subjunctive, so called, because it has always some condition annexed to what we affirm, as I should love him, if he did love me. If that condition were not inserted after the Subjunctive, the sense would be doubtful. The fifth Mood is the Infini­tive; [Page 26] a Verb in this Mood has a large and undetermined signification, as To drink, to eat, to be beloved, to be beaten, &c. We shall see hereafter that Infini­tive Verbs are used principally for the coupling and connexion of two Propo­sitions. A Participle may be said to be a sixth Mood. A Verb in its Participle signifies only the thing affirmed, and not the affirmation; and therefore they are called Participles, because they par­ticipate both of the Verb and of the Noun, signifying the thing affirmed by the Verb, without any affirmation. The Participle Beaten imports as much as the Verb To beat, yet he who says Beaten, affirms nothing, unless it be added or understood He is, or He has been beaten.

All Verbs (except Sum, Es, Est, Esse) do comprehend two Idea's, the Idea of affirmation, and the Idea of some action affirmed. An action has commonly two terms, the first à quo, the second ad quem. In an action we consider the Author that acts, and the Person upon whom: The first is called the Agent, the second the Patient. It is necessary [Page 27] to determin the Term of the action of which we speak, whether it be the Subject of the Proposition, of which we affirm the action, that is either Agent or Patient; and therefore in an­cient Languages, the Verbs have gene­rally two Terminations, and different inflexions, which discover whether the Verb be taken actively or passively: As Petrus amat, & Petrus amatur; Peter loves, and Peter is beloved. In the first Proposition, the Verb being active, im­ports that it is Peter that loves; in the second Proposition, the same Verb, with a passive inflexion, implies that Peter is the Object of that love.

It is not impossible then, but the Verbs of this new Language would have two inflexions, one active, the other passive. 'Tis possible they would not comprehend in one single Verb all the various circumstances of an action; as whether it was done with diligence, whether performed by the Author himself, or whether by an In­strument; which among the Hebrews was signified by the various inflexions of their Verbs. There are a hundred [Page 28] several ways of a Man's expressing him­self, that are not essential, but peculiar to certain Languages. I cannot say whether our new Society would omit them, and stick only to those which were essential, and without which they could not explain themselves. But my design being only to display the funda­mental Rules of the Art of Speaking, I hold my self obliged to enlarge only upon the last.

V.
What Words are necessary to express the other Operations of the Mind.

VVE have seen how the two first Operations of the Mind are to be expressed, that is to say, our Per­ception and Judgment. We come now to the third, which is our Reasoning or Argumentation. We argue, when from one or two clear and evident Pro­positions, we conclude the truth or falsity of a third Proposition that is ob­scure and disputable. As if to prove [Page 29] the innocence of Milo we should say thus: It is lawful to repel force by force, Milo, in killing Clodius, did only repel force by force; Ergo, Milo did lawfully kill Clodius. Reasoning is but an ex­tension of the second Operation, and a chaining of two or more Propositions. It is evident we have need only of some short words to make this connexion, as these Particles, then, at length, for, for asmuch, seeing that, &c. Some Phi­losophers will have a fourth Operation of the Mind, and they call it Method, by which they range and dispose their Arguments into order. This disposi­tion and order may be expressed by cer­tain Particles.

The other Actions of our Mind, by which we distinguish, divide, compare, connect, &c. are reducible to one of these four Operations, and are expressed by certain Particles, which receive dif­ferent denominations, according to the difference of their office. Those whose office it is to unite, are called Copula­tives, as Et. Those which divide, are called Negatives, or Adversatives, as Not, But. Others are conditional, as [Page 30] If, &c. These Particles do not signifie the Objects of our Thoughts, but some particular Action of the Mind, as we have said before. Discourse is but a connexion or continuation of several Propositions; and therefore Men have sought out ways of signifying the con­nexion of several Propositions. Our That answers the [...] of the Greeks, and performs that office, as when we say, I know that God is just, 'tis evident the word That unites the two Propositions I know, and God is just; showing also that the said Propositions were united in our Minds. Sometimes for shortness sake the Verb in the second Proposition is used in the Infinitive Mood, and 'tis one of the greatest uses of the Infini­tive, to couple two Propositions in that manner.

VI.
The Construction of Words, and Rules for that Construction.

HAving found all the Terms of a Language, the next thing to be consider'd is the array or disposition of those Terms. If the words which com­prehend a Proposition, do not carry marks and tokens to signifie the con­nexion which they ought to have; and if we perceive not their scope, the discourse produces no reasonable sense in the Mind of the Auditor. Among the Nouns, as we have said before, some signifie the things, and others the man­ner of those things. The first are called Substantives, the second are called Ad­jectives. In like manner, as the Modes of Being, appertain to the Being it self, the Adjectives ought to depend upon the Substantives, and carry the marks of their dependance. In a Proposition, the Term that is the Attribute of it, [Page 32] refers to the Subject of it, and that reference ought to be expressed.

The Nouns of all known Languages are distinguished by different Termina­tions, in two Genders: The first is called the Masculine, the second the Fe­minine. The inconstancy of custom is very strange in this distribution, some­times the Gender has been determined by the Sex, and the Names of Men, and every thing belonging to them, were of the Masculine Gender. The Names of Women, and all things re­lating to them, were of the Feminine, with regard only to the signification: And another time, without considering either the signification or termination, it has given to Nouns what Gender it pleased. Nouns Adjectives, and other words, which signifie rather the man­ners of things, than the things them­selves, have usually two terminations; one Masculine, the other Feminine: The Hebrew Verbs are capable of diffe­rent Genders, as well as their Nouns.

The difference of Genders serves to denote the connexion of the members of Discourse, and their dependance one [Page 33] upon another. Adjectives have always the same Gender with their Substan­tives; that is to say, if the Noun Sub­stantive be Masculine, the Adjective has a Masculine Termination; and it is that Termination that shows to which it belongs. When a Thing is multiplied, its manners of being are multiplied also; and therefore the Adjectives are likewise to follow the Number of their Substantives, whether Singular or Plu­ral. Verbs have two Numbers like the Nouns: In the Singular, they imply that the Subject of the Proposition is single: In the Plural, they imply a plu­rality in the Subject: And therefore Verbs are to be put in the same Num­ber with the Noun that is the Subject of the Proposition, whether it be ex­pressed or understood.

Men are sometimes so intent upon things, that they do not reflect upon their Names, nor regard what is their Gender, or what is their Number: They regulate their discourse by the things: They place the Verb in the Plural, though it agree with a Noun of the Singular Number, because they [Page 34] look upon the Noun collectively, and importing an Idea of Plurality; as in Virgil, Pars Mersi tenuere ratem, for Pars Mersa tenuit ratem; because with­out respect to the word Pars, which is of the Feminine Gender and Singular Number, he speaks of Men, which are the Masculine and Plural Number. So in French at Six of the clock we say, Il est six heures, considering the six hours as a determined point of time. Some­times we omit, or neglect a word, that those to whom we speak may supply it, as in Latin where it is said Triste Lupus stabulis, the word negotium is under­stood.

Figures, are extraordinary ways of speaking. There are Figures of Rhe­torick, and Figures of Grammar: Rhe­torical Figures express the commotions and violent agitations of the Mind, in our passions; or form an agreeable ca­dence. Figures Grammatical are used in construction when we digress from ordinary Rules, as in this manner of expression we now mention, which by the Grammarians is called Syllepsis, or Conceptio, because in that, we conceive [Page 35] the sense otherwise than is imported by the words, and so the construction is made accordingly. Sometimes we may make use of different expressions which give the same Idea, so that 'tis indiffe­rent which of them we use, as Dare classibus austros, or Dare classes austris: And when of these two ways of spea­king, we make choice of that which is least used, we call it Hypallage, or Im­mutation.

I.
We must express all the principal Idea's or Images that are formed in our Mind.

VVHen all the Images that are formed in the Mind of the Speaker, are not legible and plain, his Discourse is imperfect. When we speak [Page 36] therefore, it is necessary that every one of those Idea's which we desire to com­municate, have some sign or other to represent it in our Discourse. But we must observe likewise, that there are words which have the power of signify­ing several things, and are able, besides their principal Idea's, to awaken many others.

Nouns, in Languages that admit of different Cases, do signifie at the same time both the things and their referen­ces, as is said before. Verbs have a power of signifying a whole Propo­sition, the Subject, Attribute, and Co­pula. When all our Idea's are expressed with their connexion, 'tis not possible to understand all that we think, unless we give our thoughts such signs as are necessary: For which reason, they speak most clearly and intelligibly, who speak most simply, and most according to the natural order and impressions upon their Mind.

'Tis true, that Discourse is tedious, where we give to every thing that we desire to signifie, particular terms; 'tis tyresome to the hearer, if he has but com­mon [Page 37] capacity. Besides, our ardour and impatience to communicate our thoughts, will not endure so great a number of words: When it is possible, we chuse rather to explain our selves by a single word, and do therefore se­lect such terms as may excite several Idea's, and by consequence supply the place of words; and we retrench such, as being omitted, cannot produce ob­scurity. The Rule to be observed, is, to have a particular regard to the capa­city of the person to whom we speak; if his parts be but indifferent, we must speak every thing expresly, and leave nothing to his divination.

The Ellipsis or retrenchment of some part of our Discourse, is a Grammati­cal Figure, as in this Latin Expression, Paucis te volo, in which these words, verbis alloqui, are left out. This Figure is very common in the Oriental Lan­guages: The People of those Coun­tries being hot, and quick, their ar­dour and vehemence will not permit them to speak any thing in terminis that may be as well understood. The French Language uses not this kind of Figure [Page 38] so frequently, nor indeed any other of the Grammatical Figures: It affects clearness and perspicuity, and there­fore as near as possible, expresses every thing in the simplest and most natural order.

When we speak, we ought particu­larly to consider the principal things, and make choice for them of such Ex­pressions, as may make deepest impres­sions in the Mind of the Hearer, either by the multitude of Idea's they contain, or otherwise. A Painter draws the principal Lines of his Picture gross, and then heightens it with his colours; in the mean time sweetning and refi­ning his other strokes, that their soft­ness and obscurity may set off the lustre of the other. Trifling things, that are not essential to Discourse, should be mentioned by the By: 'Twould show great defect of judgment to dilate upon them; it would divert the Reader, and take off his Mind from that which is more material. There are two ways (and those very different) of transgres­sing in our choice of Expressions: The one is, when we are too diffuse and [Page 39] prodigal; the other, when we are too sparing and dry. The last represents only the carkass of things; and are like the first Touches in a Picture, by which the Painter marks only the places where he designs the Eyes, Mouth, Ears, &c. The first by its secundity and redun­dance perplexes as much on the other side. A just temperament is to be ob­served therefore. When the Painter has perfected his necessary strokes, all that he adds afterwards does but spoil what he did before. Words that are superfluous, do but render the necessary more obscure, and hinder their impres­sion; they tyre the Ear, and never reach the Memory.

Politeness consists partly in a strict retrenchment of unnecessary words, which are as it were the Excrements of Discourse: A thing is polish'd, when the little rugged particles are taken away with the File, and the surface made smooth and even. This repeti­tion of words, which serves only to [Page 40] lengthen out discourse, and tyre the Reader, is called by the Grammarians Tautology. When discourse is fill'd up with unnecessary and superfluous words, it is called Perissology. Nevertheless we are not obliged to such frugality, that we should be affraid to add one word more than is necessary, as when in Latin we say vivere vitam, auribus audire: This is an Elegancy sometimes, and called a Pleonasmus, expressing a vehe­mency in us, and a greater certainty in the thing.

II.
What ought to be the order or dispo­sition of Words.

AS to the ordering of Words, and the Rules to be observed in ran­ging a Discourse, Natural Light di­rects us so clearly, that no Man can be ignorant. We cannot conceive the sense of a discourse, if we do not under­stand the matter of it first.

[Page 41] Natural order requires therefore, that in every Proposition the Noun that signifies the Subject of it, be placed first: If it be accompanied with an Adjective, that the Adjective be put after it: That the Attribute be placed after the Verb that couples the Subject with the Attribute: That the Particles which denote the reference betwixt one thing and another be inserted betwixt them: That the Words which make the con­nexion may be found betwixt the two Propositions.

And this, as near as we can, is the Natural Order to be commonly observ'd in Discourse. I say commonly, because in some cases we may transgress with advantage; and this transgression is an ornament among the Grammarians, and a Figure called Hyperbaton: Of which sort Virgil has one in these Verses:

The Preposition per being out of its natural place.

When we reject a word to the end [Page 42] of a Proposition, without which word the sense of the Proposition is imper­fect, the interruption which the Reader receives, makes him more attentive; his desire of understanding it grows more vehement and ardent, and his impatience makes his conception the clearer. Besides, this little transgression does many times make the Proposition strong and intellible; for the Reader, to understand the sense of it, being ob­liged to meditate and consider all the parts together, that consideration im­presses him the more. For this reason no doubt the Romans and the Greeks did frequently put the Verb at the end of the Proposition, and having the au­thority of custom, it is not altogether to be blamed: But he who intends to write clearly and simply, must observe Natural Order as much as in him lies: I say as much as in him lies, because sometimes we are obliged to transgress, to avoid the concurrence of certain rough words that will not admit of conjunction.

This array and disposition of words, is well worth our serious application: And [Page 43] we may affirm, that it is by this Art of well placing their words, that those excellent Orators have distinguished themselves from the multitude. For words being not made by the Orator, but natural to every body, 'tis only the faculty of ranging them well, and inducing them properly, that belongs to them, and pronounces them Ora­tors.

I speak not here of that disposition of words, which renders a Discourse harmonious, but of that which renders it clear. Clearness without doubt de­pends much upon Natural Order; and whatever interrupts that Order, per­plexes our Discourse. But there are many Errours opposed to this Natural Order, and by consequence to that clear­ness that ought to be observed. The first is the Hyperbaton, or too bold and frequent transposition of words. Our Language is so great a Lover of clear­ness, that it admits none of those trans­gressions. [Page 44] It would not be Elegant to say, There is no man, who more than he, may justly promise himself glory: We are rather to say, There is no man, who more justly than he, may promise himself glory. A second Vice consists in the multitude and huddle of words, when we ex­press our thoughts by long and tedious circumlocutions, or insert words that are altogether unnecessary, as thus: In this, many people do continually and wonderfully abuse their leisure: This Ex­pression is confused, and it would be much better to cut off what is super­fluous, reducing it to these terms: In this, many abuse their leisure. Another defect is, when we do not exactly ob­serve the Rules of Syntax or Constru­ction. Other terms there are, whose signification being vagous and indefi­nite, cannot be determined but by their relation to some other term. When we make use of such terms, and do not signifie their reference, we make our Propositions doubtful and equivocal. As if I should say, He always loved such a person in his affliction; it would be equivocal, because the Reader would [Page 45] not be able to determin to whom the Pronoun his related, whether to the person who loved, or the person in affliction; which fault would be very considerable. There is another thing also, that is a great enemy to clearness, and that is, when our Expressions seem to look one way, and are intended ano­ther, as in this Answer of the Oracle: ‘Aiote, Aeacida, Romanos vincere posse.’ Pyrrhus, the Son of Aeacus, to whom this Answer was addressed, understood it thus, O Son of Aeacus, I say you may overcome the Romans: Whereas it was meant, that the Romans should over­come him. This defect is called by the Greeks, Amphibologia. Besides these, long Parentheses, and too frequent, are neither decent nor convenient, as may be observed too often in several Authors.

III.
How we may express the Passions and Motions of our Mind.

ALL that passes in our Minds, is either action or passion. We have seen already which way we may ex­press our actions: Let us now see what Nature dictates to signifie our passions, that is, to signifie the esteem, con­tempt, love, or hatred we bear to things, which should be the objects of our thoughts and our affections. Our Discourse is imperfect, unless it carry with it the marks of the Motions of our Will: It resembles our Mind (whose Image it ought to bear) no more than a dead Carkass resembles a living Body. To resolve therefore, what our new Men would be obliged to do to express their passions, let us see what we our selves should do, had we the same parts in that Comedy.

There are Names which have two [Page 47] Idea's: That which may be called the principal Idea, represents the thing sig­nified. The other (which may be ter­med the accessory) represents it as in­vested with such and such circumstan­ces. For example, the word Lyar im­plies a person reprehended for not speaking the truth; but it imports like­wise that the person reprehended is esteemed an ill person, one who has cunningly or maliciously concealed the truth, and therefore deserves our hatred and contempt.

These second Idea's, which we have called accessories, are annexed to the Names of things, and to their princi­pal Idea's, in this manner: When cu­stom has obtained, that we speak with certain terms of what we esteem, these terms do instantly assume an Idea of Grandeur: In so much that a person no sooner makes use of those terms, but we conceive he has an esteem for those things of which he speaks. When we speak in passion, the air of our looks, the tone of our voice, and several other circumstances, are sufficient to signifie our commotion. And the very words, [Page 48] of which we make use upon those oc­casions, may afterwards of themselves renew the Idea of those commotions: As when we have often seen one of our Friends in a certain habit, the same sort of habit is capable of reviving the Idea of our Friend. All proper Names of Natural things have their accessory Idea's, but they are smutty and obscene: For loose and debauched people speaking of these things in an unusual and im­modest way, the foul images of their thoughts, are annexed to the very words; and therefore we may take up the same complaint, that was long since made by a wise Pagan, and say, Honesta nomina perdidimus.

So then, the words themselves contra­cting accessory Idea's that represent the things, and the manner in which those things are conceived, our new Gentle­men would have no trouble to invent new words to signifie these accessory Idea's. It would plainly appear, that in their new Language there would be terms sufficient to express the different Motions, as the love, hatred, esteem, contempt, &c. of the Speaker. And [Page 49] moreover (as we shall demonstrate here­after) our Passions do often describe themselves in our Discourse, and form their own Characters without study or Art.

We have seen what Men are obliged to do of necessity, to signifie their thoughts; let us now see what depends upon their choice. Having all of us one and the same Nature, (be the Lan­guage that we speak what it will) we follow all those Rules which we have shown to be Natural, and Essential to the Art of Speaking. But it is yet in our power to chuse, among the infinite variety of words, what we think good; and this liberty is it that has changed all the ancient Languages, and does still refine or impair them every day.

Diversity of Languages is incommo­dious, and a great impediment to So­ciety and Trade. Some persons have anciently proposed to make an Univer­sal Language, which might be learnt in a short time, and be common to the whole World. I conceive the great Secret of those Undertakers lay in ma­king that Language to consist of few [Page 50] words: They would have had every thing expressed by one single term, and that term, with some little alteration, should have signified all other things that had reference to it. They would have made all their Nouns indeclinable, denoting their different cases by Par­ticles, and their three Genders by three Terminations. They would have had but two Conjugations, one to signifie the active, and the other the passive: Nor should their Tenses have had diffe­rent Terminations instead of Pronouns. By which the whole Grammar of that Language might have been quickly and easily learned.

I.
Custom is the Master of all Language.

CUstom is the Master and Soveraign Arbiter of all Languages. No [Page 51] Man can dispute its Empire, as being established by Necessity, and confirmed by Universal Consent. It is of the na­ture of a Sign▪ to be known to those who make use of it. Words are signs of those Idea's to which they have been formerly joyned. It is necessary there­fore to employ them only for the sig­nification of things, whose significa­tions were known before by the persons to whom we speak. We might, if we please, call a Horse a Dog, and a Dog a Horse; but the Idea of the first being fixt already to the word Horse, and the latter to the word Dog, we cannot transpose them, nor take the one for the other, without an entire confusion to the Conversation of Mankind. It is ridiculous fantasticalness, not to follow those Modes which long Custom has established: And it is little less than stupidity, when we speak, to leave the ordinary Methods, and deliver our thoughts in dark obsolete terms, when we desire to impart them.

'Tis the same thing with us in respect of Language, as in respect of Habit. Some People push on the Modes to the [Page 52] highest extremity: Others with as much eagerness and vanity oppose themselves against them. Some People affect such terms and expressions as are modern or new: Others, digging into the Dialects of their Great Grand­fathers, will not speak a word now, that was not in use two hundred years since. Both of them are too blame. When Custom affords not terms proper to express what we have to say, it is lawful to use such words as are almost antiquated and lost: Nay a Man is ex­cusable, if to make himself understood, he coins a new word: In that case we may blame the barrenness of our Lan­guage, but must commend the fecun­dity of his Wit that was able to supply it. Datur venia verborum novitati, ob­scuritati rerum servienti. With this proviso notwithstanding, that the word be a la mode, and not dress'd up in a sound quite differing from the usual words.

II.
There is a good and a bad Custom, and three ways to distinguish them.

VVHen we advance Custom to the Throne, and make it Soveraign Arbiter of all Languages, we do not intend to put the Scepter into the hands of the Populace. There is a good, and there is a bad Custom: And as good Men are the properest Ex­amples to those who desire to live well; so the practice of good Speakers is the fittest Rule for those who would speak well. Usum, qui sit Arbiter dicendi (says Quintil.) vocamus consensum eruditorum, sicut vivendi, consensum bonorum. But it is no hard matter to discern betwixt the good and the bad; betwixt the de­praved Language of the common peo­ple, and the noble and refin'd Expres­sions of the Gentry, whose condition and merits have advanced them above the other.

[Page 54] And to make this distinction, there are three ways. The first is Experience: We are to observe those who speak well; we are to consider the manner of their expressions, what latitude they give to their words, what it is that they affect, and what it is they avoid: If we cannot arrive at their conversation, we have Books, where Men speak com­monly with more exactness, having time and leisure to correct such improprieties as slip unavoidably in discourse; for the Memory being full of ill words conti­nually sounded by the common people, 'tis very hard to be so constantly upon our guard, as not to let some of them fall from us in conversation before we are aware. When we write, we review what we have done, and expunge such expressions as we find unapt or imper­tinent.

The second way to discriminate be­twixt good Customs and bad, is Reason. All Languages have the same Funda­mentals, which Men would establish, if by accident (like that we have pre­tended) they were obliged to invent a new Language. By the Notion we [Page 55] have given of these Fundamentals, we may make our selves Masters and Judges of any Language, and condemn the Laws of Custom where they are oppo­site to the Laws of Nature and Reason. Though we have no right to establish new words, we have liberty to reject such as are bad. Languages are never refin'd, 'till Men begin to canvass and examin them; 'till such Expressions are exploded, as corrupt Use has introduced; but those are not to be found out by the ordinary people: It must be learned and sagacious Men, and Men that have exact knowledge of this Art. When just and proper Expressions are used, a Language may be said to refine, and the discontinuance from speaking ill fixes the custom of speaking well.

Yet in the establishment of Language, Reason (as we have shown in the pre­cedent Chapters) prescribes but very few Laws; the rest depend upon the Will and consent of Men. In speaking, the whole World proposes but one end; but because we may arrive at that end by different ways, the liberty of chu­sing them as we please, causes difference [Page 56] in the manner of expression, even in the same Language. Nevertheless, not­withstanding the liberty Authors have taken in the formation of Language, we may observe a certain uniformity, and constant regularity running quite thorough all our Expressions. Men do commonly adhere to such customs as they have formerly embraced. Where­fore, though words depend much upon the fancy and capriccio of Men, yet, as is said before, we may discern a cer­tain uniformity in Custom.

If we know then, that words of such a sound, are of such a Gender; when we doubt of the Gender of ano­ther word, we must compare it with words of the same termination, whose Gender is known: And so in Verbs, if I would know (in the French Lan­guage) whether the third person of the Preterperfect Tense of a proposed Verb be to end in a, I go no farther than to the Infinitive, and if that ends in er, my business is done; because 'tis evident all Verbs of that Language, ending in er in the Infinitive, do end with a in the Tense and person aforesaid.

[Page 57] This way of understanding the Cu­stom of a Language, by comparing its expressions, and considering the pro­portion which they bear one to the other, is called Analogie, which is a Greek word, and signifies proportion. By means of their Analogie, it is that Languages have been fix'd: By virtue of Analogie Grammarians have found out their Rules, and the good Customs of a Language; have compos'd their Grammars, which, if well made, are very useful, as furnishing us with Rules in short, which we should be obliged to find out by Analogie with infinite labour and diligence.

Of all the three ways for the disco­very of good Custom, Experience is the best. Custom is always Master: Our choice must be of the most reaso­nable expressions, and by that choice Languages are purged of their impu­rities. But when Custom affords but one single word or phrase, to express what we are obliged to say; Reason permits that we give place to Custom, though it be contrary to Reason; nor are we to be blam'd at all, if the ex­pression [Page 58] be bad. This was the occasion of that old and true Maxim among the Lawyers, Communis error facit jus. A­nalogie is not the Mistress of Language; she is not come down from Heaven to give Laws in that case; she describes only the Laws of Custom. Non est lex loquendi, sed observatio. Quintil.

To perfectly understand the Customs of a Language, we must inform our selves of the Genius, and observe the Idioms, or peculiar Manners of Spea­king which belong to it. The Genius of a Language consists in certain qua­lites, which those who speak do affect to give to their Stile. The Genius of the French Language is perspicuity and liveliness; in which they differ much from the Eastern Nations, who do rather prefer mysterious and enigma­tical expressions, that may find work for the thought. Idioms distinguish Languages one from the other, as well as words. To speak French, it is not enough to make use of French words; for if we jumble them together, or dispose them as a German would do the words of his own Language, we should [Page 59] rather speak Dutch than French. We call Hebraisms, the Idioms of Hebrew; Hellenisms, the Proprieties of Greek; and so of the rest. 'Tis an Hebraism to say Vanity of Vanities, instead of The greatest of all Vanities; as also to signi­fie distribution, by repetition of the same word, as in this Sentence: Noah put into the Ark seven, and seven of all Creatures, to signifie that Noah put into the Ark seven pairs or couples of all Crea­tures. 'Tis an Hellenism to use the Infi­nitive instead of a Noun; and that Idiom is frequent in our Language, which has great affinity with the Greek. Expressions obsolete, rejected by new custom, and to be found only in ancient Authors, are called Archaisms. Every Province has its Idiom, which it is no easie matter to quit. Titus Livius, an Author of great Eloquence and Purity, could not cleanse his Stile from the im­purities of Padua, where he was born. Asinius Pollio tells us: In Tito Livio, mirae facundiae viro, puto inesse quandam Pata­vinitatem.

III.
Words are not to be used but in their proper signification, and to express the Idea to which Custom has an­nexed them.

SInce then we are to submit to the Tyranny of Custom, we must fol­low her Laws, and observe them strict­ly. The first thing to be consider'd, are the particular words, whose pecu­liar Idea's are to be inquired after ex­actly, and not imployed but in their pro­per significations, that is to say, to sig­nifie exactly the Idea's to which custom has affixed them. Besides which, we are to have regard to the accessory Idea's that belong to them, otherwise we shall be in danger of mistaking, and give a low and abject Idea to things which perhaps we design to illustrate.

Some are of opinion, that to speak well, it is sufficient to make use only of such words as are authorised by [Page 61] custom, as we have said before; but we must also take our words in the precise signification that custom affords. To draw the Picture of the King, 'tis not enough that we draw a Face with two Eyes, a Nose, and a Mouth; but we must express the Features, and par­ticular Lineaments of the Kings Face.

Some People fancy themselves Elo­quent, if they can but throng their Memories with Phrases, huddled toge­ther out of the Works of such Persons as are renowned for their Eloquence; but they are mistaken, and those who take that course shall never be exact. They accommodate their Matter to their Phrase, without considering in what place, or upon what occasion it was used by the Author. So that their Stile becomes wild and extravagant, like a Grottesque Picture, patch'd up of Shells of a thousand several colours, and other whimsies, that have not the least natural relation to the Figure repre­sented.

Phrases in Discourse, like patches in a Cloke, are great signs of poverty of the Master: For they serve only to fill [Page 62] up void places, and he that abounds with them, shall never write short.

IV.
We are to consider whether the Idea's of the Words we joyn, may be joyned as properly.

IT is not enough that we make choice of proper and familiar terms, unless their connexion be reasonable. With­out that, our Discourse will have no more form, than the Letters of a Press thrown by accident upon a Table. For though the Idea of every word sepa­rately and alone may be sufficiently clear, yet joyned together, they may be Nonsense, because the Idea's to which they are applied by custom, may be in­compatible. These two words, Square, and Round, are very good, and their Idea's intelligible: We do readily un­derstand what it is to be Square, and what to be Round: But if we should say a Square Round, no body could com­prehend [Page 63] it. If I should say, such a one was shod with his gloves, who could under­stand it? yet shod, and gloves, are words that every Man knows. If when a Man gets up, I should bid him Descend upon his Horse, the standers by would think me a Sot. When the repugnance betwixt the Idea's is not so manifest, and the connexion of the terms not so pal­pably condemned by custom, as in these two expressions, shod with gloves, and descended upon his Horse, many people are not disgusted. These following words being spoke in company before several persons, most of them would be taken with their noise, and not per­ceive that they carried in them nothing of sense or signification: Noble and brave Battels that carry high Destinies beyond the Seas. The words are good, and intel­ligible of themselves, but applied in that manner, they signifie nothing.

Who can tell what the Author says in that Verse? The Idea's of accumula­ting [Page 64] and undermining are incompatible, and 'tis not possible to reconcile them. We know what the Poet intended, but he was out in his Expression. This is rather our want of Judgment, than ignorance of Language; so that to speak exactly, we must study as well to adapt our Judgment as Tongue.

For the Order to be given to words, when they are joyned together, our Ears do instruct us so sensibly what Rules are to be observed, that we have no need to mention them here. Custom does not always observe Natural Order in certain words. It requires that some be placed first, and others follow at a distance. The Ear being used to these kinds of array, perceives the least transgression, and is offended at it. We are more disturbed at a thing ungrateful to our Senses, than to our Reason: Nonsense, or an Errour in arguing, would be less abominable, than if a Man should transpose his words, and say Head my, for my Head. And this is a fault so visible, 'tis not worth an ad­monishment.

A Discourse is pure, when we follow [Page 65] the best Custom, when we use what it approves, and reject what it condemns. The Vices opposed to this Purity, are Barbarisms, and Solecisms. The Gram­marians do not agree about the defi­nition of these two Vices. Monsieur de Vaugelas applies Barbarism only to Words, Phrases, and Particles; and Solecism to Declensions, Conjugations, and Construction. We commit a Bar­barism in using a word for English that is not English, in using an English word improperly; in using an Adverb for a Preposition; in using a Phrase impro­perly: 'Tis a Barbarism likewise to use or omit such Particles as are unne­cessary or convenient. And the same absurdity committed in Declension, Conjugation, or Construction, is a So­lecism.

Monsieur de Vaugelas has distinguished very well, betwixt the clearness we mentioned in the precedent Chapter, and the purity we have mentioned in this. A pure Stile is that which Quintil. calls Emendata Oratio: A clear Stile is that which he calls Dilucida Oratio. And these are so different (says Monsieur de [Page 66] Vaugelas) that there are thousands of people, who write clearly and intelli­gibly in all sort of matters, (that is to say, explain themselves so, as the meanest capacity may conceive what they intend) and yet nothing more im­pure than their Stile. On the other side, there are those who write purely and correctly, without either Barbarism or Solecism; yet their words are ranged so ill, their Periods so ill ordered, and their Stile so perplex'd and confus'd, they are not, without great difficulty, to be understood.

V.
'Tis Choice of Expression that makes a Man Elegant.

THe best Expressions grow low and degenerate, when profan'd by the Populace, and applied to mean things. The use they make of them, infecting them with a mean and abject Idea, causes, that we cannot use them with­out [Page 67] out sullying and defiling those things, which are signified by them. Vulgar Expressions are carefully avoided by those who write politely; and caution, as to them, is the occasion of continual alteration of Languages.

Persons of Quality and Learning, endeavour to advance themselves above the Vulgar, and therefore avoiding to speak like them, will not make use of Expressions that they have spoiled. Persons of Condition are readily imi­tated by every body, so that in a short time, those Words which are rejected by the Rich or the Learned, are rejected by every body, and forced from the Court and the City, to retire into the Countrey, and become the Language of the Peasants.

To be short: Besides exact keeping of the Laws of Custom, and the care of [Page 68] making use only of pure ways of Spea­king; it must be confessed, that that which advanced those Persons, who are most Eminent for their Eloquence, was a certain Art and Felicity they had in finding out rich and ingenious Ex­pressions to signifie their thoughts. It requires no great care nor pains to avoid the Censure of the Critique; but we cannot please every body without extraordinary fortune. Who can find fault with these following words? 'Tis to Cadmus that Greece is indebted for the Invention of Letters: 'Tis to him she is indebted for the Art of Writing. Yet I have read the same thing expressed with more fancy and charm.

I.
No Language is rich enough to supply us with terms capable of expressing all the different faces upon which the same thing may be represented: We must have recourse to certain man­ners of Speaking, called Tropes, whose Nature and Invention shall be explained in this Chapter.

THe Mind of Man is so fertile, all the Languages in the World are too barren to ex­press its fecundity. It turns [Page 70] things so many ways, and represents things with so many different faces, that 'tis impossible to contrive words for all the forms of our thoughts: The ordinary terms are not always adequate, they are either too strong or too weak. Wherefore to express our meaning ex­actly, we are many times obliged to the same address we are glad to make use of, when we know not the Man's Name of whom we desire to speak; we do it by such signs and circumstan­ces, as by their connexion to his per­son, do stir up and excite that Idea, which we could not signifie by his pro­per Name; that is, we describe him as a Souldier, Magistrate, Dwarf, &c.

Those Objects that have reference and connexion betwixt them, have their Idea's also in some manner con­nex'd. We no sooner see a Souldier, but War occurs immediately to our Me­mory: We no sooner see a Man, but we remember all those whom we have [Page 71] observ'd to resemble him. So the Idea of a thing may be excited at the naming of any of those things, with which it has any resemblance.

When to express a thing, we make use of an improper word, which Cu­stom has applied to another Subject, that way of explaining our selves is figurative; and the words so transpor­ted from their proper signification, and applied to other things than what they naturally mean, are called Tropes, or Changes of Custom, as the Greek Verb [...] imports. These Tropes do not signifie the things to which they are applied, otherwise than by reason of the connexion and reference that those things have with the things whose Names they do properly bear: So that we may reckon, there are as many sort of Tropes, as there are different references; but it has pleased the Masters of this Art to establish but few.

II.
A List of the most considerable Tropes.

I.
The Use of Tropes, and the Necessity of their being Clear.

THe richness of a Language consists in its Tropes; and as the ill use of a Man's Wealth, is the destruction of his Estate; so the ill choice of Tropes occasions a multitude of faults in Discourse. 'Tis necessary therefore that Rules be prescribed: And first great care is to be taken, that we use no Tropes, but where we must express our selves imperfectly without them; and when we are obliged to use them, they must have two qualities; one is, they must be clear, and contribute to the understanding of what we intend, seeing the only use of them is to make us more intelligible; the other is, that [Page 83] they hold proportion with the Idea we design to delineate.

Three things hinder the perspicuity of a Trope: The first is when it is too remote, and gives no present advan­tage to the Hearer, to discover what it is that the Speaker intends. As if we should call a scandalous House, the Syrtes of Youth. We should not reach the meaning of the Metaphor, 'till we we had recollected, that the Syrtes were certain Banks of Sand (upon the African Coast) very dangerous. Whereas if we should say the same House was a Rock for Youth, what we intended to signifie would be obvious enough. To avoid this inconvenience, the best way will be to take our Metaphors from sensible things, and such as are frequently re­presented to our Eyes, whose Images are easily apprehended without scrutiny or trouble. If I would describe a per­son whose Name I had forgot, I should be ridiculous to do it by dark and ob­scure signs, that gave no ready occasion to my Hearers to form an Idea of his person: But this that is a fault so dan­gerous, and so much to be avoided in [Page 84] conversation, is looked upon by some Authors as an Elegance, and highly affected. Some people delight to fetch their Metaphors afar off, and to take them from things unknown, to osten­tate their Learning. If they speak of a Kingdom, they will be sure to make use of a Synecdoche, and call it by some part that no body knows: The nearest of their Tropes shall be fetcht out of Asia or Africk. And he who would understand them, must inform himself of all the Villages, Fountains, and Mole-hills in those Countries. They never mention a Man, but by the Titles of his Grand-father or Great Grand-father, and all to make a Parade of their great Skill in Antiquity. Whereas the Idea of a Trope ought to have such reference and connexion with the proper word, that one cannot be mentioned, without exciting the Idea of the other: And this fault in the connexion, is the se­cond thing that renders a Trope ob­scure. This connexion is either natu­ral or artificial. I call that natural, when things signified by their proper, and by their metaphorical Names, have [Page 85] natural resemblance, or dependance one upon the other. As when we say a Man has Arms of Brass, to signifie the strength of his Arms, we may call this resemblance betwixt the Trope and the proper Expression, natural. The arti­ficial connexion, is that which arises from Custom. 'Tis the custom to call a rough untractable Man an Arab; 'tis an usual term, and the frequent using it in that sense, makes the Idea of that word Arab awake the Idea of an untractable Man. And therefore an artificial connexion is more obvious, than a natural, because it is established by Custom.

The too frequent use of Tropes, is the third thing that renders them ob­scure: The clearest and most perspi­cuous Metaphors express things but in­directly. The natural Idea of what is represented only by Metaphors, arrives not at the Mind without pain and re­flexion, and there are few but would be willing to have that labour spared. Yet when we condemn this frequency of Tropes, we intend only those which are extraordinary. Some there are as [Page 86] useful as natural Terms; and those can never perplex our Discourse. When we make use of Metaphorical Expres­sions, they must be of this latter sort, otherwise our Hearers must be prepared to understand them. A Trope ought to be preceded by something that hin­ders mistake, and the sequel of the Discourse ought to make it appear, that we are not to stop at the natural Idea represented by the Terms which we im­ploy.

Unless we be very extravagant, and delight in not being understood, we will never continue a Book, or Dis­course, from the beginning to the end in perpetual Allegories. We cannot discover a Man's meaning, but when he gives us at least some natural signs of it, without fallacy or equivocation. How can we tell when he is in jest, and when in earnest, unless we have seen him serious before? How can we distinguish a Mimick from a real Fool, but by observing that the one is a Fool only for a time, and the other as long as he lives? When therefore we see an Author express himself wholly by Me­taphors, [Page 87] we may conclude him extra­vagant; unless there be some secret rea­son that makes him obscure.

II.
Tropes must be proportioned to the Idea's we would give.

THe Use of Tropes is absolutely ne­cessary, because many times ordi­nary words are deficient. If I would give the Idea of a very high Rock, the words large, high, and lofty, being gi­ven to ordinary Rocks, would afford but a short and imperfect dimension of mine. But if I should say, It threatned the Heavens, the Idea of Heaven (which is the highest thing in Nature) and the Idea of threatning (which belongs pro­perly to people above us) would form in my Mind an Idea of such an extraor­dinary height, as could not be expressed without an Hyperbole. We say more than we intend, for fear we should say less. But these kind of Expressions are [Page 88] to be used with great caution and deco­rum: We must have a care that there be always a proportion betwixt the natural Idea of the Trope, and the thing we would explain; otherwise the Hearer may misunderstand, and take one thing for another. If speaking of an indifferent low Valley, I should say, It went as low as Hell; or of a Rock of more than ordinary height, I should say, It touched the Skies; who would not believe I was speaking of a Rock of an immense height, and of a bot­tom of a prodigious lowness? So that we must have particular regard that our Trope does not give a contrary or extravagant Idea of the thing we in­tend, lest whilst we pretend to be se­rious, we make our Auditors laugh, as in this Expression, Morte Catonis Res­publica castrata est.

There are thousands of ways to cor­rect and temper these extravagant Ex­pressions, of which sometimes we are forced to make use. If our reputation be in danger, we excuse our selves, or prepare the Reader by some previous complement: For 'tis plain, an ill intro­duc'd [Page 89] Trope, is a sign of an irregular Fancy: These bold Expressions are In­dications of our Judgment or Passion: When an Object is rare, and we think it so in our Minds, (whether it be for its height or profundity) we presently are sensible in our selves of Motions ten­ding to Esteem or Contempt, Hatred or Love, which we express by words proportioned to our Judgment and Pas­sion: If therefore the Judgment we make of these Objects be rash and teme­rarious; if our Sentiments be irratio­nal, our Discourse betrays all, and discovers our weakness. 'Tis not e­nough therefore, that our Tropes be suited to our Idea's, but they must qua­drate among themselves. Men are na­turally Lovers of great things; and therefore Authors, who make the satis­faction of their Readers the Rule and Scope of their Art, do affect great Words, high Metaphors, and bold Hy­perboles, that, to be examin'd, would appear ridiculous, and even in those persons who are delighted with them, produce nothing but vain admiration. A Man of Reason cannot endure that [Page 90] Mountains and Mole-hills should be con­founded; that trifles should be made great things, and great things trifles; and that the equality of Stile should not leave it in our power, to discriminate betwixt things of none, and things of the most serious importance.

III.
Tropes are an Ornament to Discourse.

TRopes do make a sensible descri­ption of the thing we intend: When we call a Great Captain, The Thunderbolt of War, the Idea of Thun­der informs presently with what force, with what swiftness, with what noise, the said Captain overcomes: Men do not commonly receive any thing into their Minds, that comes not first to their Senses. To make them conceive well, we make use of Comparisons that are both sensible and pleasant, such Comparisons are easie to the Mind, exempting it from that study and serious application, that is necessary for the [Page 91] discovery of that which falls not under our Senses. For this reason, Metaphors taken from sensible things, are very fre­quent in Scripture. The Prophets never speak of God, but they describe Him by things subject to our Sense. They give Him Arms, and Hands, and Eyes, and describe Him with Darts, Arrows, and Thunderbolts, by such visible things to intimate to the people his Spiritual and Invisible Power. Sapientia Dei quae cum infantia nostra Parabolis, & Simili­tudinibus quodammodo ludere non de dignata est, Prophetas voluit humano more de di­vinis loqui, ut hebetes hominum animi, divina & coelestia, terrestrium similitudine intelligerent. St. August.

A single Metaphor many times ex­presses more than a long Discourse. If we should say, Sciences have corners and depths that are very unprofitable, that Metaphor would signifie more than could be expressed by many natural words in an easie and comprehensible way. Besides, by help of a Trope, we can vary and protract a Discourse as we see occasion. When we speak long upon one Subject, and have no mind, [Page 92] by too frequent repetitions, to trouble the Hearers, it is the best way to borrow Names from such things as have con­nexion with the things of which we speak, and to express our selves by Tropes.

I.
The Passions have a peculiar Language, and are expressed only by what we call Figures.

BEsides the proper and metaphorical Expressions, wherewith Custom and Art supplies us, to signifie the Mo­tions both of our Will, and our Thoughts, our Passions also have their peculiar Characters, by which they re­present themselves in our Discourse. We see in a Man's Face what passes in his Heart; the fire in his Eyes, the [Page 93] wrinkles in his Brow, the paleness in his looks, are evidences of more than ordinary commotion. The Circum­stances of his Discourse, the new and sudden way of expressing himself, (quite contrary to his way when he was cool and in peace) are certain characters of agitation, and imply disturbance in the person who speaks.

Passion makes us consider things o­therwise than we do when we are calm and sedate. It magnifies the Objects, and fixes our thoughts upon them in such manner, that our thoughts are wholly employed about them; the Ob­jects making as strong an impression in us, as the things themselves. Our Passions do many times produce con­trary effects, transporting the Mind, and in an instant carrying it through several variations: They force our con­siderations from one Object, and throw it upon another: They precipitate, in­terrupt, and divert it: In a word, Pas­sion in a Man's Heart, has the same effect as the Wind in the Sea: Some­times it forces the Waves upon the shore, sometimes it hurries them back [Page 94] into the deep; on a sudden it mounts them and dashes them against the Sky, and presently tumbles them down to the very Centre of the Earth.

So our words answer to our thoughts: The Discourse of a Man that is moved, cannot be equal: Sometimes it is dif­fuse, and describes exactly the thing that is the Object of our Passion: Ano­ther time it is short; his expression is abrupt; twenty things said at a time; twenty Interrogations; twenty Excla­mations; twenty Digressions together; he is alter'd by a hundred little particula­rities, and new ways of signifying his mind, which ways are as different, and distinguishable from his ordinary way, as the Face of a Man is when he is angry, from his Face when he is quiet and serene.

These ways of Speaking (which are Characters drawn by our Passions in our Discourse) are the famous Figures mentioned by Rhetoricians, and by them defin'd, Manners of Speaking, dif­ferent and remote from the ways that are ordinary and natural; that is to say, quite other than what we use, when we [Page 95] speak without passion. There is no­thing obscure in this definition, that re­quires explication, and therefore we will go on to the Use and Necessity of these Figures.

III.
Figures are useful and necessary.

THree Reasons oblige us particularly to the Use of Figures. First, when we describe a person under commotion, if we would do it exactly, we must represent his Discourse with all its proper Figures, turning and altering them, as Men in passion do generally turn and alter their Discourse. A skil­ful Painter, to express (as much as in him lyes) the thoughts and passions of the person whom he draws, gives his Picture such touches and lines, as he observes to be in the Face after extra­ordinary provocation; which strokes, are great indications of the temper of the Mind.

[Page 96] Our Passions (as I said before) will show themselves in our Eyes, our Words, our Motions, &c. The ex­pression of Anger and Mirth cannot be the same: These Passions have different Characters, and therefore it is in vain to think to represent them, either by colours or words, unless we do it by the same strokes and figures by which they are distinguished among themselves.

When a Discourse has life in it, and is animated with the Motions and Cha­racters, and Passions of the person who speaks, it causes a secret pleasure, and is extreamly delightful. We cannot read these following Verses, without compassion, and resentment of the same tenderness and love. Virgil represents Nisus in great consternation, upon the danger of his Friend Euryalus, against whom Volcens was advancing with his Sword in his hand to revenge the death of Tagus, who as he thought was slain by Euryalus. Nisus discovers himself to have slain Tagus, and presents himself to receive that mortal stroke that was directed to Euryalus. His words are these, and they are highly emphatical.

The second Reason to prove the Use and Necessity of Figures, is stronger than the first: We cannot affect other people, without we appear to have some impression upon our selves.

Men will never think us concern'd, [Page 98] unless they observe in our words the marks and indications of trouble. No man ever conceiv'd Sentiments of pity, for a man that was laughing; to move us to compassion, his Eyes must be fix'd upon the ground, and his Cheeks all dabbled with tears: For the same reason, our Discourse ought likewise to bear the marks of the passion we feel, and would communicate to our Auditors. We judge of things, accor­ding to the zeal and fervor of the Speaker. The most part of Men, and of things, that have extraordinary esteem, are indebted for it, to those who never mention them but with transports of admiration: Were they mentioned with contempt, the World would think contemptibly of them. Non (says St. Aug.) quod res aliae forent, & ipse homo alius, sed tantummodo affectus alius narrantium.

Animals know how to defend them­selves; to acquire what is useful, and to keep it by force. Those who have fancied them but Machins, have show'd very ingeniously, their Bodies to be so organiz'd, that they may perform those [Page 99] actions without assistance from the Soul. We find in our selves, that our Members (without direction from our Soul) dispose themselves into postures to avoid injury. That the Body frames it self into a proper condition, either to invade or defend. The Hands and the Feet expose themselves for the safety of the Head. The Feet stand firm to support the Body, and put it into a capacity of withstanding the insults of the Enemy. The Arm stiffens, and lists it self up to strike with greater force. The whole Body twists, and contracts, and extends it self, to avoid or invade the Adversary. And all this is done naturally, without reflexion or debate.

'Tis not to be thought, that these Figures are only Rhetorical Figments, invented for ornament of discourse: God has not refus'd to the Soul, what he has given to the Body. The Body knows how to move, and dispose it self dexterously, for the repelling of In­juries; and the Soul may▪ defend it self as well: Nature has not made her im­moveable upon any insult: The Figures imploy'd by her in discourse, do the [Page 100] same, as Postures in defence of the Body. If Postures be proper for de­fence, in corporal invasions; Figures are as necessary, in spiritual attacks. Words are the Arms of the Mind, which she uses, to disswade or perswade, as occasion serves. I shall show the effi­cacy and force of these Figures, after I have given a particular definition of each of them. But it being impossible to describe all the Postures which our Passions do dictate to our Bodies, so 'tis as impossible to enumerate all the Figures wherewith our Passions do fur­nish our Discourse. I shall speak only of the most remarkable, and such as are commonly mentioned by all Masters in this Art.

II.
A List of the Figures.

IV.
The Number of Figures is infinite, each Figure being to be made an hundred different ways.

I Have not set down in this List the Hyperboles, the Grand Metaphors, and several other Tropes, because I have spoken of them elsewhere. They are nevertheless true Figures, and though the scarcity of Language obliges us many times to make use of these Tro­pical Expressions, even when we are quiet and at ease; yet they are more commonly used when we are under a Transport. 'Tis our Passion that makes Objects appear to us extraordinary, and by consequence is the Cause that we have not common Terms to represent them either so big, or so little as they appear. Besides that I never pretended to speak of all the Figures, it would require a large Volume to describe the Characters of our Passions in Discourse, [Page 124] as well as those which the same Passions do describe in our Faces. Threats, Complaints, Reproaches, Intreaties, have their Figures in all Languages. There is no better Book than a Man's own Heart, and it would be folly to search in other peoples Works, for that wherewith our own Breast may supply us. If we would know the Figures of Choler, we need no more than watch what we naturally say, when we are transported with that Passion.

In a word, it is not to be imagin'd, that all Figures are to be framed accor­ding to the Examples which I have used; or that I intended them as Uni­versal Models for all the Figures that I have mention'd. Apostrophes, Interro­gations, Antitheses, may be made an hundred several ways. It is not Art that regulates them; it is not Study that shows them: They are the Natural Ef­fects of Passion, as I have said before, and shall demonstrate more at large in the following Chapter.

I.
Figures are the Arms of the Soul. A Comparison betwixt a Soldier Fight­ing, and an Orator Speaking.

VVE have shown the Necessity and Advantage of Figures by three Reasons, of which the two first have been sufficiently explain'd. The third (that Figures are the Arms of the Soul) is still to be clear'd; where­fore for better illustration, and to give it the deeper Impression upon our Mind, I will in this place describe a Soldier fighting, his Sword in his hand; and an Orator speaking in a Cause, that he has undertaken to defend. I shall make a Parallel of these two sorts of Combats, and consider a Soldier in three Conditions: The first, when he [Page 126] fights with equal force, and his Enemy has no advantage over him. The se­cond, when he is inviron'd with dan­ger. And the third, when being ob­liged to yield to the power of his Ene­my, he has no recourse but to the Cle­mency of the Victor. I shall carefully observe the Postures which he uses in all these three Conditions, and show, that in Discourse there are Figures cor­responding to all these Postures, with which they have a natural resemblance.

In the first Condition, the Soldiers intention is applied to the finding out ways of obtaining the Victory; some­times he is upon the offensive, some­times upon the defensive part; some­times he advances, sometimes he re­treats; he pretends to give ground, and returns with greater impetuosity; he redoubles his blows, he threatens and contemns the Efforts of his Adversary. Sometimes he puts himself forward, and fights with more ardour and vehe­mence. He considers the Designs of his Enemy, and possesses himself of the advantagious ground. In a word, he is in perpetual motion, and always [Page 127] dispos'd either for defence or inva­sion.

When the Mind is inflam'd, and dispos'd to combat by Words, the Passions with which it is provok'd, with no less heat excite it to find out Reasons and Arguments to evince the Truths which it asserts. In the heat and impatience that every man has to defend himself, and make good what he affirms, the same things are many times repeated, and delivered in different manners: Sometimes with Descriptions, Hypotyposes, Comparisons, Similitudes. Some­times we prevent what the Adversary would say, and sometimes we answer it. Sometimes as a token of confidence we grant all that is desir'd, and pretend not to make use of all the Reasons that the Justice of our Cause would suggest.

A Soldier keeps his Enemy in breath; the strokes that he makes at him con­tinually, the assaults that he makes at him on all sides, the different ways of his attacks and retreats, keeps him con­stantly waking. An Orator entertains the Attention of his Auditors; when their thoughts are straggling, he reduces [Page 128] them by Apostrophes; and by Interro­gations obliges them to whom they are directed to give him an answer. He awakens them, and recollects them by frequent Exclamations, Reiterations, &c.

Having consider'd this Representa­tion of a Soldier combating with suc­cess; let us next represent to your Eyes the Image of another Soldier, inviron'd with danger, without any hopes of re­lief. Sadness forces Tears from his Eyes, and Sighs from his Breast. In­dignation exasperates him against the Enemy, and Fear pulls him presently back. He stands immoveable, and un­resolv'd, whilst in the mean time his desire to escape the impending danger, presses and inflames him. After this he tryes all sorts of ways; he excites, he animates himself: His Passion renders him dexterous and cunning, it furnishes him with Arms, and he makes use of every thing he can reach for his defence. Can we stifle the Sentiments of displea­sure that we feel, and not testifie them by Exclamations, by Complaints, by Reproaches, when we perceive the [Page 129] Truth (which we love so well) obstru­cted, or obscur'd? In these occasions, our great ardour and impatience to se­cure it against the Clouds wherewith it is obfuscated, makes us accumulate Arguments, and heap proof upon proof. Sometimes we explain them; some­times having propos'd them only, we leave them, to answer the Objections of the Adversary. Sometimes we are si­lent, in great irresolution about the choice of our proofs. Sometimes we urge a thing, and immediately find fault with it, as a thing of no cogency or conviction. When our proofs fail, or are insufficient, Nature her self must Apostrophize; we make the Stones speak, the Dead to come forth of their Graves; the Heaven and Earth are in­vok'd to fortifie by their testimony the Truth, for the establishment of which we speak with so much heat.

II.
A Continuation of the Parallel betwixt a Soldier Fighting, and an Orator Pleading in defence of his Cause.

TO complete the Parallel that I have begun, betwixt a Soldier and an Orator, I consider the Soldier in the third Condition to which he is reduc'd, when not being able longer to contend, he is oblig'd to yield to his Enemy. In that case, he throws away his Arms as unuseful; there is nothing of threat­ning or fury in his countenance. His chief Weapon is his Tears; he humbles himself more than his Enemy would humble him; he prostrates himself at his Feet, and embraces his Knees: Man is made, to obey those upon whom he depends, or by whom he is maintain'd; and to command his Inferiours that ac­knowledge his Jurisdiction: He does both the one and the other with plea­sure. Two persons are bound very [Page 131] strictly together, when the one has need of relief and desires it, and the other has power to relieve and applies it. God having made Mankind to live together, has formed them with these Natural Inclinations: A person in Af­fliction betakes himself naturally to all postures of Humility, that may make him appear inferiour to the person of whom he begs; and we cannot, with­out resisting the Sentiments of Nature, refuse to persons so humbled, the Suc­cours that they implore: We supply them with a secret delight, which is as it were our recompence and reward (in some measure) for the Comforts we bestow. It is by this way of Compen­sation, that a Trade and Commerce is maintain'd betwixt the poor and the rich, betwixt the miserable and the happy.

In Discourse there are Figures which answer to these Postures of Affliction and Humility, to which the Orators have frequent recourse. Men being free, it is at their own choice whether they will suffer themselves to be per­swaded; they can turn away their face, [Page 132] and not see the Truth that is propos'd to them; or they can dissemble that they know it. So an Orator is many times in this third Condition, wherein we consider our Soldier. When he finds he must yield, and his desire to preserve himself obliges him to be hum­ble, that he may obtain that by Sup­plication, that he cannot hope to com­pass by force of Argument, his Elo­quence is imploy'd to possess his Adver­versary of the unfortunate Condition to which he is reduc'd; Prayers are commonly full of descriptions of his Misery who makes them. Job expostu­lating with God, tells Him, That he is but a leaf, with which the winds do sport themselves; and as a dry stubble. Contra folium quod vento rapitur, ostendis poten­tiam tuam, & stipulam siccam persequeris. And David, Psal. 6.

[Page 133] In a word, as there are Figures to threaten, to reproach, and to terrifie; there are Figures also to pray, to miti­gate, and flatter.

III.
Figures illustrate obscure Truths, and render the Mind attentive.

VVE cannot doubt of a known Truth: We may question it with our Mouth, but our Heart must be thoroughly convinc'd. To triumph therefore upon the obstinacy or igno­rance of those who oppose it, it is suf­ficient to expose the light of it to their Eyes, and to bring it so near, that the strength of its impression may awaken them, and oblige them to be attentive. Figures do extreamly contribute to the removing these two first obstacles, that hinder a Truth from being known, and help its obscurity, and the defect of our attention. They are useful to illustrate and explain it; they force the [Page 134] Hearer to an attention; they awaken him, and strike him so lively, that they do not suffer him to sleep, nor keep the Eyes of his Mind shut up to the Truths that are propos'd.

My Design being in my List of Fi­gures, to insert only those which the Rhetoricians do place frequently in that number, I will not speak of Syllogisms, of Enthimems, of Dilemma's, and other kind of Arguments that are used in Logick; and yet it is manifest they are real Figures, being extraordinary ways of reasoning never used but in passion, or ardent desire to perswade or disswade those to whom we speak. These Rea­sonings or Figures are wonderfully effectual in this, That joyning a clear and incontestable Proposition, with another that is more doubtful and con­testable, the clearness of the one dissi­pates the obscurity of the other, and the two Propositions being strictly con­nexed, if the reasoning be good, we cannot grant the one to be true, but we must confess the other to be so like­wise.

A solid Argument suppresses and dis­arms [Page 135] the most obstinate Adversary: O­ther Figures are not indeed of that force and conviction, but yet they are not unprofitable. Repetitions and Syno­nyma do illustrate a Truth. If our first Expression be too weak, the second makes us intelligible. The Synonyma when added, are so many new strokes of a Pencil, that make those Lines visible, which before were incomplete.

When our impatience to be under­stood, gives us just occasion to fear we have not sufficiently explain'd our selves, we dilate upon things the more, and are more copious in our Expres­sion. If our Hearers have not been attentive, we repeat a second time what we have said before. What darkness can obfuscate the verity of a thing that an Eloquent Person explains? of which, he makes Descriptions, and Enumerations, (that lead us (if I may so say) thorough all the corners and recesses of an Affair) and such Hypoty­poses, and Illustrations, as carry us tho­rough all difficulties, and by a pleasant Enchantment makes us believe we be­hold the things themselves? An Anti­thesis [Page 136] is no idle ornament; opposition of contrary things, contributes excee­dingly to the clearing of a Truth. Sha­dows add much to the beauty of Co­lours.

Our Minds are not equally open to all kind of Truths. We comprehend much more easily things that are ob­vious every day, and in common use among Men; than those which are rare, and mention'd but seldom. For which Reason, Comparisons and Similitudes, drawn ordinarily from sensible things, give us a more easie penetration into the most abstracted and abstruse Truths. There is nothing so subtil and sublime, but may be made intelligible to the weakest Understanding, if among the things which they know, or are capa­ble of knowing, we can find out in­geniously such as have resemblance or similitude with those which we would explain to them. We have an excel­lent Example of this Address, in a Dis­course that Monsieur Paschal made to a young Nobleman, to give him a true Notion of his Condition. His Parabole is thus:

[Page 137] A certain Person is cast by Tempest into an unknown Island, whose Inha­bitants were in great pain to find out their King who was lost. The Person having much resemblance, both in Body and Feature with the King, is taken for him, and recognis'd in that quality by the People. At first he was surpris'd, and knew not how he was to steer; but upon second thoughts he resolved to follow his Fortune, receiv'd all the respects that they paid him, and suffer'd himself to be treated as their King.

But being unable to forget his natural condition, it stuck in his Mind at the same time that he received their For­malities, that he was not the King for whom they sought, and that the King­dom was not his. So that he had a double care upon him; one, by which he acted as King; the other, by which he remembred his real condition, and was assured, that it was only Chance which had placed him where he was: This last thought he conceal'd to him­self, the other he discover'd: By the first, he treated with the People; by the last, he treated with himself.

[Page 138] By this Example Monsieur Paschal signified to the young Lord, That it was the Fortune of his Birth which had made him Great; that it was only the Fancy of the People, that had annexed to the Quality of a Duke, an Idea of Grandeur; and that in effect he is no greater than other People. Instructing him in that manner what Sentiments he ought to have of his condition, and making him understand Truths, which would have been above the Capacity of his Age, had he not (as I may say) brought them down to the Intellect of him whom he desired to instruct.

Were Men Lovers of Truth, to pro­pose it to them in a lively and sensible way, would be sufficient to perswade them: But they hate it, because it ac­commodates but seldom with their In­terests, and is seldom made out, but to the discovery of their Crimes: In so much that they are affraid of its lustre, and shut their Eyes that they may not behold it. They stifle the natural love that Men have for it, and harden themselves against the saluti­ferous strokes that she strikes upon the [Page 139] Conscience: They shut all the Ports of their Senses, that she may not enter into their Minds, where she is receiv'd with so much indifference, that she is forgot as soon as she is receiv'd.

Eloquence therefore would have but little authority over our Hearts, and would indeed find strong resistance, did she not attack them with other Arms besides Truth. The Passions are the Springs of the Soul: It is they which cause it to act: It is either Love, or Hatred, or Fear, or Hope, which counsels and determins us. We pursue what we love, we avoid what we hate. He that holds the Spring of a Machin, is not so much Master of all the Effects of the Machin, as he is of a Person, whose Inclination he knows, and is able to inspire with Hatred, or Love, according as either is necessary to make him advance, or to remove him from an Object.

But the Passions are excited by the presence of their Object: Present Good affects us with Love, and with Joy; When we do not actually, but are in possibility of possessing that Good, it [Page 140] inflames the Soul with desires, whose Flames are continued by Hope.

Present Evil is the Cause of Hatred or Sadness: The Soul is tormented with Fears and with Terrors, which turn to Despair, when we find we have no means left to avoid them: To kindle therefore these Passions in the Heart of a Man, we must present the Objects before him; and to this purpose, Fi­gures do marvellously conduce.

We have seen how Figures do im­print strongly; how they illustrate, and how they explain: We must use them in the same manner to discover the Ob­ject of the Passion which we have a mind to inspire, and to make a lively Picture that expresses all the Features and Lineaments of the said Object. If we declame against a Malefactor, who deserves the hatred of the Judges, we are not to be sparing of words, nor affraid of Repetitions, Synonyma, that strongly imprint upon the Mind the Image of his Crimes. An Antithesis will be convenient, and make them conceive the enormity of his Life, by opposing the Innocence of those Per­sons [Page 141] whom he has wrong'd: We may compare him to the Malefactors of for­mer Ages, and declare his Cruelty to be greater than the Cruelty of the Ti­gres and Lions. It is in the Description of Cruelty, and other ill qualities, that Eloquence triumphs: It is particularly the Hypotyposes, or lively Descriptions, which produce the Effect expected from our Discourse, and raise in the Mind Floods of Passion, of which we make use, to incline the Judges as we have a mind to lead them. Frequent Excla­mations do testifie our horrour at the representation of his abominable Crimes; and makes the Standers-by feel the same Sentiments of grief and aversion. By Apostrophes and Prosopo­peia's we order it so, that Nature her self seems to demand with us the Con­demnation of the Criminal.

IV.
Reflexions upon the good use of Fi­gures.

FIgures, as we have seen, being the Characters of our Passions, when those Passions are irregular, Figures serve only to describe those Irregulari­ties. They are Instruments used to shake and agitate the Minds of those to whom we speak: If these Instruments be managed by an unjust Passion, Fi­gures in that Man's Mouth, are like a Sword in the Hand of a Mad Man. It is not lawful by false accusation to blacken every Man against whom we speak; nor to show our Eloquence, is it necessary to imploy against him, the same Figures we would use to dispose a Judge to the Condemnation of a wicked and abominable person. Ora­tors with whom this fault is familiar, do seldom deceive twice; their Excla­mations are quickly understood, and it [Page 143] happens to them, as to those who have used to counterfeit themselves sick; when they are sick indeed, no body believes them:

This fault in some persons is a sign of cunning, in others 'tis a sign of le­vity and extravagance. When we de­light in combating the Truth; when we desire not to satisfie our Hearers, but chuse rather to trouble their Minds with the Clouds of some unjust Passion, that may intercept the sight of the Truth; the Figures imploy'd in that Case may be call'd Figures of Craft. But Orators are not always to be accus'd of this cunning; sometimes they do not con­sider the impressions which their Fi­gures may make; their design not be­ing so much to perswade, as to show their Eloquence; and to do that, they will put themselves into a heat, and make use of the strongest Figures in Rhetorick, when perhaps they have no Enemy to combat: Like a Mad Man, who draws his Sword upon a Phan­tasm [Page 144] that his own troubled Imagina­tion has represented in the Air. These are Orators that fall many times into Raptures and Enthusiasms, which take away the use of their Reason, and make them see things in a quite contrary manner to what in reality they are.

This Fault is the Character of an In­fant, that is angry without a cause; yet many Learned and Eminent Writers are guilty of it, as believing they could not pass for Eloquent without these kind of Figures. For this reason, they will talk lowd upon all occasions, de­prave their own Judgments, and look upon every thing quite otherwise than it is; whereas they should rather reflect soberly upon whatever is repre­sented, and speak only by Sentences. But that which is most ridiculous is, That these ill Orators endeavour only to please and tickle their Auditory, not concerning themselves in the least to overcome or convince their Adversary [Page 145] by the force of their words. Like a distracted person, never regarding how he struck, or defended himself with advantage against his Enemy, so he drew the Eyes of the Spectators upon him, and got the reputation of fight­ing handsomly, and with a good grace.

They affect to measure their words, and to give them a just Cadence that may flatter the Ear: They proportion all their Expressions, and in a word, they fill up their Discourses with Fi­gures, but such Figures as, in respect of strong and perswasive Figures, are like the Postures in a Dance, in respect of the Postures of a Combat.

The Study and Art that appear in a compt and polite Discourse, are not the Character of a Mind lively touch'd with the things of which he speaks; but rather of a Man unconcern'd, and merry. So we call these Figures of [Page 146] Measure, whose Cadence is agreeable to the Ear, Theatrical Figures, Theatrales Figurae. They are Arms only for show, not of a temper to fight with. Fi­gures proper to perswade are not to be sought for: It is the heat wherewith we are animated for the defence of the Truth that produces them, and con­tinues them in our Discourse; so that indeed Eloquence is nothing but the Effect of our Zeal. St. Augustin tells us the same, speaking of the Eloquence of the Stile of St. Paul: Quid sic indig­natur Apostolus in Epistolis suis, sic cor­ripit, sic exprobrat, sic increpat, sic mi­natur? Quid est quod animi sui affectum tam crebra & tam aspera vocis mutatione testetur? Nullus dixerit, more Sophista­rum pueriliter & consulto figurasse Oratio­nem suam; tamen multis figuris distincta est. Quapropter sicut Apostolum praecepta Eloquentiae non secutum esse dicemus; ita, quod ejus sapientiam secuta sit Eloquentia, non denegamus.

But it is not only upon great occa­sions that Figures are to be used: The Passions have several degrees: All pro­vocations are not equally alike; nor [Page 147] have all Figures the same efficacy and force. There are Antitheses for great, and other Figures for lesser Commo­tions. So that we ought not to con­demn all sorts of Figures in Discourse, upon a matter that affords not just and reasonable occasion of emotion. The impatience Men have to express them­selves well, and to make the things they would insinuate to be conceiv'd, has its Figures as well as our other Passions. In the mildest and most tem­perate conversation, though no resi­stance be found in the Mind of the per­sons with whom we discourse, no­thing hinders but that for the better explication we may repeat sometimes the same Words, and make use of dif­ferent Expressions, to say the same thing. It is permitted to make exact Descriptions, to search for Compari­sons and Images of what we say, among natural and sensible things. We may demand the Judgment of our Auditors, and interrogate them, to fix and retain their Minds in more serious attention, and make our reflexions upon what they have said. Thus has Conversation its [Page 148] Figures, as well as Speeches, and De­clamations.

The Stile of an Orator, who makes ill use of his Figures, is term'd a cold Stile, because whatever effort he makes to animate his Auditors, they hearken but coldly, and that coldness is so much the greater, because the Hearers are not agitated by any of those Emotions which he desir'd to excite.

I.
Of Sounds, and Letters, of which Words are compos'd.

THe Rules which we have hi­therto given, in relation to the Art of Speaking, regard only the manner of expres­sing our Thoughts, which are the Soul [Page 106] of Discourse. Letters that compose the Words, by their resemblance, are the Body of Discourse, as we have said before. We must take pains now to form this Body, that is to say, to range the Words in such sort, that the pro­nunciation of them may be easie and agreeable at the same time. To treat of this matter with entire exactness, we ought seriously to consider the par­ticular Movements of the Organs of the Voice, to determin the formation of every Sound that is made by every Letter. But, besides that this exact­ness would be troublesome, every Man may apprehend these things without the assistance of a Master, by observing with little attention what is performed by the Organs of which we make use when we speak. I shall therefore ex­plain my self upon these things only in a general manner.

We know already how the Voice is form'd. The Air which comes forth of the Lungs, excites a Sound passing with constraint through the Larynx, or the opening of the Pipe of the Aspera [Page 107] Arteria, which reaches to the Throat. This opening is greater or lesser by means of Muscles that inviron it, ac­cording as there is occasion for the raising or letting fall of the Voice. This Sound is receiv'd out of the Throat into the Mouth; where it is modified in different manners, by the different dispositions of the place which receives it, and by the Motion of the Tongue which beats it against several parts of the Mouth. Every Sound has been mark'd by a Letter: Letters compose Words; in such sort, that it is possible to make an Engin speak, if having observ'd the particular disposition of the Organs of the Voice (which is neces­sary for the formation of each Letter) we should make as many Pipes as there are Letters, and give them the same dispositions. It is possible likewise to make a dumb Man speak, by represen­ting to his Eyes the dispositions and postures which the Organs of the Voice do assume for the sounding of each Let­ter, of which at the same time they are to show them a Character, and [Page 108] reiterate the pronunciation, 'till he ob­serves the Motions of the Tongue, the Opening of the Mouth, how the Sound is cut by the Teeth, how the Lips beat one against the other, and imitate them. Commonly people are dumb only because they cannot hear, and therefore they cannot learn to pronounce the Sound of a Letter otherwise than by this arti­fice, which teaches them that by the Eye, of which they are not capable by the Ear. Monsieur de Monconys reports, that in his Travels in England, there was an Excellent Mathematician at Oxford, who made a dumb Man read in his presence; and that that dumb Man was the second which he had taught to speak by that Method. 'Tis true, he only call'd over the Letters by their Names, but knew not how to make any conjunction of their Sounds.

The Letters are distinguish'd into Vowels and Consonants: Some have observ'd, that Vowels are made only by moving the root of the Tongue; others will have their Sound form'd by the different opening of the Mouth. [Page 109] The Vowels are five, A, E, I, O, U. In pronouncing them, we must stop some time to make them sound, other­wise they will not be easily understood; according to the measure or quantity of time, they are said to be long or short, or too long or too short, and receive different Names. It depends upon him that speaks to stop a longer or shorter time upon the Vowels, and so to make what difference betwixt them he pleases, and therefore it is, that their Number is not the same in all Languages. The Hebrews have thir­teen Vowels; the Greeks seven; the French pronounce their Vowels in equal time, so that they are not subject to that difference which the different mea­sures of time may produce among o­thers; but they distinguish them ano­ther way. When the Mouth is open'd more than ordinarily, the Sound is stronger, and more clear; when the Mouth is not open'd so much, the Sound is weaker, and less clear. These diffe­rent degrees of force, cause the diffe­rence betwixt an E Masculine and an E [Page 110] Feminine; betwixt an I and an U. When we joyn the Sounds of two Vowels, and a third Sound is produc'd, that is it which we call a Dipthong, which is as much as a Letter with two Sounds.

Consonants cannot be pronounced, but by sounding a Vowel, and from thence they are called Consonants. These Letters are formed by the Mo­tion of the Tongue beating the Voice against the Throat, and from thence against the Palat. As the Tongue contracting it self, stops the Air that forms the Voice; or as it relaxes and and suffers it to pass, striking upon the Teeth; and the Lips beating one upon another, it gives the Sounds of different Consonants. From whence, among the Hebrew Grammarians, their Consonants are distinguish'd into Con­sonants of the Lips, of the Teeth, of the Throat, and of the Palat. The simple Consonants are twelve, B, C, D, F, G, L, M, N, P, R, S, T; to which we might add J and V, when pronoun­ced as Consonants.

[Page 111] That which makes in the Alphabets of some Languages a greater Number of Consonants, is first, because People joyn the Sound of several Consonants in such manner, that though they be nam'd double, yet only one of their Sounds is heard: As in Z and X, Z is as much as D and S, X is as much as C and S. This Conjunction aug­ments the Alphabets with a great number of different Consonants. All Languages have not an equal number of these double Letters, in which one of the Consonants being pronounc'd faintly, causes the Sounds of them both to be confounded, so that but one of them is heard. In the second place, when we pronounce the Con­sonants with Aspiration, we change their Sound, and that change forms quite different Letters. Aspiration is made, when we strike the Voice a­gainst our Throats with some kind of force. This Aspiration is mark'd with an H. Among the Greeks, an Aspi­ration added to their [...] makes their [...], which is as much as Ph with us: An [Page 112] Aspiration joyn'd with their K makes their X, and is as much as our Ch. This Observation makes us compre­hend, why in some Languages one Letter has so many different kinds (if I may so call them) for example, the Hebrews have four sorts of S: The Aspiration may be made with diffe­rent degrees: Wherefore to mark by particular Characters the differences of the pronunciation, we must imploy as many different Characters.

When the Voice is carried up to the Nose, it receives a certain diffe­rence: So that if we should be to treat of all Letters that might be ima­gin'd, as there are Letters of the Throat, there should be Letters of the Nose. Custom exercises its au­thority over Letters, as well as over the Body of Discourse, of which Let­ters are the Members. It depended upon Men to chuse among the Sounds of the Voice (which might be infinite in number) those that should be most pleasing and commodious; for which Cause, there are Letters in use in [Page 113] some Languages, that are not used in others.

Some Nations there are, who ex­press by one single Letter several Sounds; others on the contrary mark the same Sound by different Chara­cters, and have several Letters that might be spared: Among the Latins the K or the Q might be spar'd, as is observ'd by Marius Victorinus, who has treated of that matter very pro­foundly. This is it that has produced so much difference in the Alphabets of Languages both ancient and mo­dern. It is not necessary I observe, that the Tones of the Voice, and the divers inflexions wherewith the same Letters may be pronounced, may change their pronunciation; That there are Letters of which the Sound is not distinct, if we are not careful to joyn them with such as have sym­pathy with them. I pass over such things as are commonly regarded as trifles; nevertheless the knowledge of them, though their Object be small, is in some measure necessary: Order [Page 114] has oblig'd me to repeat what I have said of them before.

II.
What is to be avoided in the ranging and disposition of our Words.

'TIs an Effect of the Wisdom of God, who created Man to be happy, that whatever is useful to his Conversation, is agreeable to him. The pleasure annex'd to all the actions that can preserve his life, carries him freely and spontaneously to them. We find it no pain to eat, because the gust and relish of the Meat discovers the necessity of eating to be agreeable: And that which authoriseth this Ob­servation, that God has joyn'd use­fulness [Page 115] and pleasure together, is this, because all Victual that conduces to nourishment is relishable, whereas o­ther things that cannot be assimulated and turn'd into our substance, are in­sipid.

This seasoning of Necessity with Delight, is to be found in the Use of Speech. There is a strange sym­pathy betwixt the Voice of those who speak, and the Ears of those who hear: Words that are spoken with pain, are offensive to the Hearer. The Organs of the Ear are dispos'd in such sort, that they are offended by a pronunciation that grates upon the Organs of the Voice. A Dis­course cannot be pleasant to the Hea­rer, that is not easie to the Speaker; nor can it be easily pronounc'd, unless it be heard with delight.

We feed with more appetite upon wholsom and relishable Meats: We listen more easily to a Discourse, whose smoothness lessens the trouble of attending. It is with Sciences as with Meats: We must endeavour to [Page 116] make those things pleasant, that are useful. Quoniam nonnullam inter se ha­bent similitudinem vescentes atque di­scentes; propter fastidia plurimorum, etiam ipsa, sine quibus vivi non potest, alimenta condienda sunt.

Pleasure goes far with every Man, 'tis that which is the Principal of all our Motions, and sets them on work. Prudence requires that we make use of this inclination to conduct us to our design'd end; that we delight the Ears, which being the Porters of the Mind, may give our words the more favourable admission. Besides, the pleasure which we give in Speaking, is preceded by our own proper ad­vantage; because the ease of the Spea­ker, causes the satisfaction of the Hearer. Let us then endeavour first to discover what is to be avoided in the ranging of our Words; what faults may be committed in it; what makes their pronunciation difficult. The first step to Wisdom, is to disclaim Vice: Sapientia prima, stultitiâ caruisse: Besides, in what relates to the Sense, [Page 117] every thing is agreeable that is not offensive. Id omne delectat, quod non offendit, says St. August.

Among the Letters, some are pro­nounced with ease, others with pain: Those whose pronunciation is easy, have an agreeable sound; those which are pronounced with difficulty, do grate upon the ear. Consonants are pronounc'd with more difficulty than Vowels, and therefore their sound is less soft and fluent. It is convenient to temper the harshness of the one by the sweetness of the other, and that is to be done by placing the Vowels betwixt the Consonants, that there may not be too many of them toge­ther. This harshness arising from the concourse of Consonants is obvious in the Northern Languages. Dutch and English are very unpleasant to them whose ears have not been ac­customed to those Languages.

Custome takes off this harshness from words, or at least makes us not so sensible of it: Nevertheless it is observ'd, that according to the dif­ferent degrees of the peoples inclina­tion [Page 118] to delicacy, their words are com­pos'd of Letters more or less soft; they having had less regard to follow reason, than to tickle their ears. In respect of this softness of pronun­ciation the Romans used aufero for abfero, colloco for cumloco, as analogy oblig'd them to speak. Analogy has remitted of its rights in favour to the softness of pronunciation; Impetra­tum est a Consuetudine ut suavitatis causa peccare liceret.

When Consonants have their aspi­rations, or are pronounc'd in a quite contrary manner, we are more parti­cularly oblig'd to avoid their con­course. There are Consonants pro­nounc'd with the mouth shut, as P. There are others to be pronounc'd with the mouth open, as C. &c. These Consonants cannot march together; they do not agree, and therefore can­not be pronounc'd one after the other immediately, without some kind of difficulty; because we are forced (al­most at the same time) to dispose the Organs of pronunciation in several different fashions.

[Page 119] A second error into which they fall who range their discourse with negli­gence, is the concourse of two or more Vowels. This concourse of Vowels is unpleasing for a reason quite con­trary to what has been given for the harshness of the concourse of Conso­nants. Consonants are pronounc'd with pain, Vowels with ease; but this great facility accompanied with great swiftness, is the cause that their sounds are not so distinguishable, but that for the most part one of them is lost; by which means there is a kind of vacu­um in the pronunciation, that ren­ders it unpleasing. In pronouncing many Vowels successively, it happens with us as if we were walking upon polish'd Marble, the too great smooth­ness is troublesome; it causes us to slip, and 'tis hard for us to keep upon our legs. In pronouncing these two words in French Hardi Ecuyer; or in Latin these, ni intersistat & laboret animus, unless we stop for some time at the words Hardi, or ni, the sound of the first Vowels will be confounded with that which begins the following [Page 120] words, and create an uneasiness to the ear, as not being able to distinguish clearly the two different sounds.

To prevent this concourse, we either retrench one of the Vowels that are found together, or we put in a Con­sonant to fill up that void space which would happen without this artifice; for this reason they say in French, qu'il fit, for que il fit; a-t-il fait, for a il fait; fera-t-il, for fera il. When one of the Vowels has a sound strong e­nough to make it self distinguish'd, this artifice is useless. This care of ranking of words ought to be with­out disquiet: We are not to consider as material faults, the failings in this part of the Art of Speaking. Non id ut crimen ingens expavescendum est, ac nescio an negligentia in hoc, an so­licitudo sit pejor.

I know not whether neglect or so­licitude is to be most carefully avoid­ed: but negligence has this advan­tage, that it makes it believ'd we em­ploy our selves more about things than words, Indicium est hominis de re, magis quam de verbis laborantis.

VII.
In speaking, the voice does many times repose: We may commit three faults in ill-placing the repose of the voice.

THE necessity of taking breath, obliges to interrupt the course or our pronunciation, and the desire of explaining our selves distinctly, is the cause that we choose for the re­pose of our voice the end of every sentence, to distinguish by these inter­vals the different things of which we speak. Two faults may be commit­ted by ill-distribution of these inter­vals. If the expressions of each Sen­tence be too short, and by consequence the pronunciation often interrupted, this interruption lessening the force of the voice, and causing it to fall, the mind of the Reader (that ought to be kept in breath) relaxes, and his inten­sion abates. There is nothing that more cools the heat of an action, than [Page 122] to discontinue it with too many inter­ruptions. Labour makes the mind vi­gorous, and attentive; Idleness makes it drowsy and stupid. Fit attentior ex difficultate, S. Aug.

When our thoughts are delivered too short, and the mind of the Reader is obliged to attend sometime to con­ceive them, this retardment keeps him in breath, and rendring him more at­tentive, gives him a better conception of the sense of our discourse. We have said in the first Book, that for this reason the Romans rejected at the end of the sentence some word upon which the understanding of the former de­pended: But without this transposi­tion, and subversion of the natural or­der, it suffices to hinder that our pro­nunciation be not often interrupted, to make choice of such copious ex­pressions as may comprehend a com­petent number of words; or else it is necessary that the things expressed be so link'd together, that the first may excite the desire of understanding the latter, and that the voice repose after every sense in such manner, that we [Page 123] may perceive it has still farther to go.

When a thought is expressed by too great number of words, we fall into another extream, commonly we continue the actions we have begun; so the voice not reposing till it comes to the end of the sense of which it has begun to pronounce the expression, if the sense comprehends many things, the long succession of words to which it is link'd, heats the lungs, and spends the spirits; the pronunciation is in­commodious and unpleasant both to speaker and hearer.

One of the greatest difficulties in Rhetorick is to keep a Mean, and a­void these two Extreams. Those who speak without art, and have but a weak genius, fall commonly into the first errot; they can hardly speak four words that will hang together; every sentence ends as soon as it begins. We hear nothing but for, to conclude, after that, said he, and other such expres­sions brought in only to patch up the incoherence of the words. There is no fault in Discourse so contemptible and insupportable as this. Those who [Page 124] would exceed, run into another ex­treme. The first proceed as if they were lame, the other by leaps. For fear of debasing their style, they exalt it too high: They make use of no­thing but Bombast, Sesquipedalia ver­ba; and phrases long enough to take away a mans breath.

'Tis easy to abridg, or lengthen a Sentence: We may link two or more conceits together, make them but one, and so continue the Discourse by a long series of words that make but one sense. There is no need of repairing to hollow and empty phrases, or to blow up our discourse with vain words. On the contrary, if a sentence contains too many things that require great numbers of words, 'tis easy to contract the sense of that sentence, to separate the said things, and to signify them by select expressions, which may be by consequence more short and concise than that which expressed the whole body of the sentence.

We may likewise commit a third fault against the just distribution of the repose of the voice. In beginning [Page 125] a sentence, when we lift up our voice insensibly, the Greeks call it [...] and at the end of a sentence when we de­press it, it is called [...] The ear judges of the length of a phrase by the elevation of the voice, if that be loud, it makes us expect many words; if the expected words do not follow, the defect deceives them, and is un­easy as well to the speaker as hearer. It is hard to stop in the midst of a ca­reer: When in the dark we are got to the highest step of a pair of stairs without perceiving it, and we believe we may go still higher, the first step we make afterwards discomposes us, and we are in as much disorder as if the board slip'd from under our feet: All the expletive particles in French, as pas point, &c. have been found out to supply the place of words which the ear expected. The Greeks have great number of these particles, which have no other use but to lengthen a Discourse, and keep it from falling too suddenly: If the ear be offended with the length of a Discourse, all the words unexpected are importunate. [Page 126] Aures (says Cicero) quid plenum, quid inane sit judicant, & nos admonent complere verbis quae proposuerimus, ut nihil disiderent, nihil amplius expe­ctent. Cum vox ad sententiam expro­mendam attollitur, remissa donec con­cludatur arrectae sunt, quo perfecto, completo (que) ambitu, gaudent; Et curta sentiunt, nec amant redundantia. Id­circo ne mutilae sint, & quasi decurtatae sententiae, hoc est, non ante tempus ca­dant cavendum, ne quasi promissis au­res fraudentur, aut productionibus, aut immoderatius excurrentibus lae­dantur.

IV.
The too frequent repetition of the same Sounds, the same Letters, and the same words, is irksome. The way of rendring the Pronunciation of a Discourse equal.

AMong the Defects in ranging our Words, we reckon the too frequent repetition of the same Let­ter, the same termination, the same sound, and the same cadence. Diversity is pleasant; but the best things are troublesom when common. This Fault is the more considerable, because it is easily corrected: We need no more then to run our Eye over the Work, change the Words, the Syllables, the terminations which follow too often. We may express the same things a hundred several ways; Custom sup­plying different expressions for the same thought.

The most of the faults of which I have spoken, we avoid to render our [Page 128] Discourse equal and smooth. 'Tis un­easie to walk in an uneven way; an unequal Discourse cannot be carried on without trouble: Pronunciation is incommodious and importunate, when without any proportion we sometimes advance, sometimes depress our voice, and pass from one extre­mity to another. The words, the syl­lables, which enter into the compositi­on of a Discourse, have different sounds; the sound of some is clear, the sound of others is obscure: One fills the mouth, another is pronounced with a feeble tone. All do not require the same disposition of the organs of the voice, and that inequality causes the different pronnciations. To support a Discourse, and render it equal, we must help the cadence of a weak word, with another that carries a stronger pronun­ciation; and on the contrary, tempering the force of one word by the gentlenes of another, order it so, that the pre­cedent words dispose the voice to the pronunciation of the subsequent, that the voice may fall by degrees.

I might add other Precepts, but [Page 129] what I have said is sufficient for their Reflexion who would write accurately upon those things which are necessa­ry to be considered in the ranging of words. The principal, and almost the only, profit to be drawn from these Precepts, is that they make us regard several things, which perhaps would not otherwise occur to our thoughts. And farther to perswade you of the usefulness of these Precepts about the disposition of Words, observe I pray, that the Anomala, or irregularities crept into several Languages, are ad­mitted to avoid those Faults which we have decried. This is the reason of those multitude of pricks which supply the place of Vowels in the He­brew Language. This is the reason of the different long and short Points which are chang'd according to the different Inflexions of the Verbs, and the disposition of Notes signified by the Elevations, Depressions, and Re­poses of the Voice. This is the rea­son of that word Sceva, which some­times is, and sometimes is not pro­nounced. It is only to equal the pro­nunciation, [Page 130] to strengthen it by long Points where there is occasion, and to lessen it by their brevity, when the equality of the pronunciation requires it.

The nicety of the Greeks is well known. I will not lose time to let you see how to avoid the unpleasing concourse of two Consonants with Aspirations, they change the first into a tenuem that answers to it, saying for example [...] for [...]: How to fill up the void space which happens sometimes betwixt two Vowels, of two words they make but one, for example [...], they pronounce [...]; or insert a Consonant, as [...] for [...]. How they use not this Artifice when one of the Vowels is long, and has a sound strong enough to distinguish it, as [...]. You know already that to fortify the pronunciation, when the word following begins with an Aspiration, it changes the tenuem into an asperum at the end of the first word, as [...] for [...] having a rough Spirit, requires a strong [Page 131] pronunciation, which would be hard to do, after you have pronounc'd the tenues K & T. whose Sounds are but weak. The Grammarians observe that the Greeks say [...] in the Preter­tense of the Medium, for [...] to avoid the triple repetition of the same Consonant [...].

Every man can makie the same Re­flexions upon the Latin, and generally upon all Languages that he knows. The great number of words in every Language, that are diversify'd in their terminations, and the number of their Syllables; the abundance of Expres­sions (some of which are short, and some long) were invented only to make their Sentences equal, and give them means to choose in that varie­ty, the most commodious words and phrases, and rejecting such as could not be handsomly joyn'd, in compositi­ne rixantes, supply their places with those that are more convenient.

I.
Words are Sounds. Conditions necessa­ry to make Sounds agreeable. The first Condition. A Violent Sound is disagreeable: A moderate Sound pleases.

WE have seen in the Fore-going Chapter what is to be avoi­ded in the ranging of Words▪ that they may not offend the Ear. Let us in this see what we are to do to make the Sounds made by these words a­greeable and pleasing: All things that are moderate are pleasing; those Meats which move the Nerves of the Tongue softly, affect the Soul with the pleasure of Sweetness: Those Meats which prick the Nerves, or act upon them with violence, are sharp, piquant, or bitter. The heat of Fire causes pain; the rigour of Cold is insuppor­table; a moderate Heat is useful for [Page 133] Health, and fresh Ayre is agreeable God has decreed (to render the pri­son of his Body agreeable to the Soul of Man, and make him love it) that whatever happens to the Body, and disturbs not its good disposition, should give him content. It is pleasing to see, to feel, to touch, to taste, &c. There is not a sense that we can want without trouble. The sense of a sound must then be pleasing to the Ear, when it strikes it with moderation. Soft Sounds strike with moderation upon the Organs of Hearing. Those Sounds which offend them are irksome and disagreeable.

II.
The Second Condition; A Sound ought to be distinct, and by Consequence strong enough to be heard.

BUt a Sound ought likewise to be strong enough to be heard: Meats that are insipid, do rather spoil the Appetite, than provoke it: We are [Page 134] forc'd to season and make them reli­shable with Vinegar and Salt. It is with matters belonging to Sensation, as with matters belonging to knowledg that depend not upon the Body. An imperfect knowledg of a thing does but trouble and perplex the curiosity; and makes us but understand that we are ignorant. We resent with some pain what we perceive but obscurely. In a Sun-shiny day the prospect of a Field is pleasant; whatever we discern clearly, whether by the sence or the mind, is pleasant; and thus you have had two necessary conditions to make Sounds grateful. The first, that they be not so violent to disturb the Ear; The Second, that they be clear, and di­stinctly to be heard.

III.
The Equality of Sounds contributes to the rendring them distinct, which is a Third Condition.

IT is not always the want of Force that renders the Sense confus'd, but sometimes inequality. Unequal [Page 135] Sounds that strike the Organs strong­ly or weakly, swiftly or flowly with­out proportion, trouble the mind, as diversity of Affairs trouble a man who cannot apply himself to all of them at once. The sight of a multitude of different Objects dispos'd without or­der, is confus'd. In a Cabinet well-furnish'd with Jewels, adorned with Pictures, Sculptures, Cutts, Meddals, Shells, &c. the sight of all these Curi­osities is not agreeable, if they be not dispos'd with Order. Why is it that Trees planted in order are more de­lightful than those that are ranged without Art, as Nature has dispos'd them? Why is it that an Army drawn up in Battalia, is pleasing and formi­dable at the same time? Many Rea­sons may be given, but in my opi­nion it is the equality and order that renders our sensation more distinct. The clearness wherewith the mind perceives the things between which there is an equality and order, gives it satisfaction, and a full enjoyment of what it desires. If there be no order betwixt the impression of Sounds, they [Page 136] can never be distinguish'd by the Ear. In an assembly of several persons where all speak at a time, scarce one word is to be understood. In a regular Consort, though compos'd of several Instruments and Voices, we under­derstand without confusion or pain the sound of every Instrument, and the Notes of every Voice; and this distinction makes them pleasing to the Ear.

IV.
The Fourth Condition. Diversity is as necessary as Equality, to make Sounds agreeable.

CIcero says very well, the Ear is hard to be pleas'd, Fastidiosissimae sun [...] aures. We many times displease, when we design to please them. E­quality is necessary, and without it our sense is not distinct; we perceive things but confusedly, and with trou­ble when we enjoy things imperfectly that we love and desire: and yet this [Page 137] equality grows tedious and insuppor­table when continued too long. The Ear is inconstant as the rest of the Senses. Omnis voluptas habet finiti­mum fastidium. The greatest plea­sures are attended with disgust. Those who understand the Art of Pleasing, prevent these Disgusts, and cause a successive sensation of different plea­sures, overcoming by variety the dif­ficult humour of men who are di­sturb'd at all these things. 'Tis not only Fancy, and Caprichio, that makes variety necessary; Nature it self re­quires it. A Sound tires the Ear by striking upon it too long. In all acti­ons diversity is necessary, because the pain being divided, each part of the Organ is the less oppress'd.

V.
The Fifth Condition is to unite and link together the former Conditions.

IN appearance the two last Condi­tions are incompatible, and de­structive the one to the other; But they agree very well, and equality and variety may consist without any confusion. There is in nothing more variety, than in a Garden of Flowers, there are Tulips, and Violets, and Roses, &c. The Borders or Compart­ments are different, some round, some oval, some square, some triangu­lar. Yet if this Plot be consider'd by a skilful man, the equality agrees well enough with the variety, being divi­ded into Beds proportion'd one to the other, and adorn'd with regular Figures.

We will show now how equality and variety may consist in Sounds. It is this consistency that makes the Con­sort in Musick; for, as Saint Augustine [Page 139] says well, the Ear cannot receive a greater contentment than what it feels when it is charm'd by diversity of Sounds, and yet is not depriv'd of the pleasure that equality gives it. Quid enim auribus jucundius potest esse, quam cum & veritate mulcen [...]ur, nec aequalitate fraudantur?

VI.
The Sixt Condition that this agree­ment of Equality and Diversi [...]y be sensible, and what is to be observ'd to make it so.

THis agreement of equality and variety ought to be sensible, so as the temperament may be per­ceivable to the Ear. Wherefore all Sounds in which that Agreement is to be found, ought to be joyn'd, and the ear ought in like manner to hear them without any considerable interrupti­on. The Symmetry of a Building can­not be observ'd when we see but one part of it. For this reason a skilful Ar­chitect [Page 140] orders things so, that as far as is possible his House may be consi­der'd at a single view. That the Ear may discern the order and proportion of several Sounds, it is necessary that they be compar'd: In all comparisons 'tis suppos'd the terms of the Compa­rison are present, and joyn'd one with the other, and it is this union that makes the Beauty and Pleasure of Harmony. Plus delectant omnia qu [...] singula, si possint sentiri omnia.

VII.
What the Ear distinguishes in the Sound of Words, and what it may perceive with delight.

THese Conditions are necessary to all Sounds to make them agreea­ble, whether it be to the sounds of the Voice, or of Instruments; yet I have design'd to speak only of the Sounds of Humane Voices, which I distinguish into two sorts, Forc'd, and Natural. [Page 141] The forc'd Voice is used in Singing, when the Air that makes the sound is forc'd with violence from the Lungs. The Natural Voice is that which we use when we speak, it is form'd with ease, and wearies not the Organs like the other. What I shall say hereafter in this Treatise, relates only to the Natural Voice. Let us see now how we may make the Sounds or Words have such conditions as may render them agreeable to the Ear.

We may without much difficulty range our Discourse in such manner, that the pronunciation be neither too violent nor saint; that it be moderate and distinct, and that our Discourse by consequence have the two first condi­tions. The first Chapter has been spent intirely in instructing what is to be done, and what to be avoided, that our Discourse may not grate upon the ear, but be heard distinctly. We have shown how carefully we are to avoid the concurrence of two ruff Conso­nents; How we are to fill up the void spaces betwixt words where the course of the pronuntiation would be stop'd▪ [Page 142] With what prudence we are to cor­rect the rufness of some Syllables with the softness of others; in a word, how we may equal the pro­nunciation, and sustain the sound of weak Letters, by associating them with stronger.

The Four other Conditions may be found in different manners in Dis­course. The Ear perceives several things in pronunciation, besid [...]s the sound of the Letters. First, it judges of the measure of time in which each Letter, each Syllable, each Word, each expression, is pronounc'd. Next, it judges of the Elevations and Depressi­ons of the Voice, by which in spea­king, each word, each expression, is di­stinguished. In the third place the Ear observes the silence or repose of the Voice at the end of Words or Sen­tences, when we joyn or separate words: when we cut off a Vowel, and several other things compriz'd under the name of Accents, the knowledg of which is absolutely necessary for pronunciation. These accents may be very numerous: There are more than [Page 143] thirty of them in the Hebrew Gram­mers. If you will believe Servius Ho­noratus there are eight among the Latins. The Sharp figured thus (´) which shows when the Voice is to be raised. The Grave (`) when it is to be depress'd. The Circumflex compos'd of the Sharp and the Grave as thus ( [...] or [...]) the Long describ'd thus (-) which shows that the Voice is to stop upon the Vowel that has that mark: The Short which shows that the time of pronunciation ought to be short (˘) the Hyphen or Conjunction that im­plys two words are to be joyn'd as Male-sanus. The Diastole or Division, (,) which shows they are to be sepa­rated; the Apostrophe (') which shows there is a Vowel to be rejected. The Diastole and the Apostrophe have the same mark, with this difference, that in the Apostrophe it is plac'd at the top of the Letter, ad Caput literae; in the Diastole in the bottom, ad pe­dem.

But we may order it so that the Ear may receive all these with delight, by observing the four conditions pro­mis'd, [Page 144] disposing (for example) our words with such Artifice, that the Measures of the time of our pronun­ciation be equal; that the pauses of the Voice or intervals of Respiration be suitable; that the Voice be rais'd or debased with equal degrees. We may joyn Equality with Variety, by making several of those conjoyn'd measures to be equal, though the parts of which they are compos'd be une­qual, and by ordering things so that the Ear may receive this temperament with pleasure: but this requires lon­ger Explication.

I.
The Art to render Pronunciation a­greeable is to be used with Pru­dence.

BEfore we demonstrate the Utility of the Observations made in the [Page 145] former Chapter, now whilst we speak of the Art of Pleasing, and are whol­ly imploy'd to find out in Discourse what is pleasing to the Ear; it is con­venient to reflect upon this Maxim, that the most agreeable things are disagreeable in several cases. Diver­tisement is not at at all times seasona­ble; working and playing are not to be used together; we never step in measure, when we follow our affairs. When we are simply to discover our thoughts, when we are only to make the people sensible what we have in our minds: a man of judgment will not alwayes trouble himself to consider exactly, and measure his words, nor take the pains to place precisely the pauses of his Pronunciation. Pleasure is not pleasure but where it is desir'd; if it comes unseasonably, it displeases, because it diverts our Application from what it was seriously fixt up­on.

[Page 146] Discourse then is to be distinguish'd into two Kinds, Natural and Artifici­al. Natural Discourse is that which is us'd in Conversation to express our selves, to instruct and signifie the mo­tions of our Will, and the thoughts of our Mind. Artificial Discourse is used to please, and with all possible art (be­yond the Natural and Familiar way) to charm and allure our Auditors. In Natural Discourse, it is sufficient if we observe exactly what has been pre­scrib'd in the first Chapter of this Book, not but that Art may be call'd in sometimes to our assistance: Mat­ters of natural Discourse are not al­ways so austere, but they may admit of some little Divertisement.

No man is ignorant of the diffe­rence betwixt Verse and Prose; it is sufficiently manifest, the Discourse that is tyed up to the strict Rules▪ of Versification, is far from a free Dis­course, as that is which we use when we talk naturally and without art. For this reason Discourses in Verse are call'd particularly artificial. We are [Page 147] oblig'd to begin this Art of which we are treating, by showing how we may give to free and natural Discourse, (that is to say to Prose) the conditions that render Sounds agreeable, without intrenching upon its liberty. After which, in order we shall come to ar­tificial Discourse, as Verse, &c. This Art in Prose is reducible to two things, either to render our Prose Pe­riodical, or Figurative. Let us see now what is a Period, and what a Figure; how we may render a Discourse Peri­odical, and how Figurative.

II.
How we are to distribute the Inter­vals of Respiration, that the repose of the Voice may be proportiona­ble.

WE are oblig'd to take breath from time to time; the ne­cessity [Page 148] of being understood, makes us stop commonly at the end of every expression to respire, that the repose of the Voice may serve to render our Discourse more clear, and give us power to re-assume new force for the continuation of our Speech. The Voice does not repose equally at the end of every sense; in a Sentence where there is much comprised, we repose a little at the end of every Comma; yet this repose hinders not from percei­ving, that we would speak farther. That part of a perfect sense, which makes part of a greater sentence, is call'd in Greek [...], in Latin, In­cisum. When we hear this part of an entire sense, the Ear is not satisfi'd, because the pronunciation remains su­spended till the Sentence be finished. For example, when we begin▪ Cum Re­gium sit bene facere, & audire male, seeing it is a Royal quality to do right where we receive wrong. The Ear is attentive, and diligent to understand what follows. The Greeks call a per­fect [Page 149] sense that makes but a part of a more compleat Sentence, [...], the Latins Membrum, a Member. The Ear is pleas'd with the part of a Sentence, but yet hankers after something that may render it compleat. Si quantum in agris, locis (que) desertis audacia potest, tantum in foro at (que) judiciis impuden­tia valeat: If impudence could do as much at the Bar in Courts of Justice, as Courage could do in the field. You may find by your Ear that there is sence in what is sayd, and the Ear is in some measure satisfy'd; but yet there remains a desire of something to make it more compleat, and there is something wanting to the Body of the Sentence, though the Members are suf­ficiently intelligible.

The Voice cannot repose but by depressing; nor begin again but by e­levating it self; for which reason in each Member there are two parts. Elevation and Depression of the Voice. [...], and [...]. The Voice re­poses not absolutely, but at the end [Page 134] of a Sentence: not debases it self, but by finishing the pronunciation of a Sentence. When the Members which compose the body of a Sentence are equal; and the Voice in pronouncing them reposes by equal Intervals; ad­vances and falls again with proporti­on; the expression of that Sentence is call'd a Period. 'Tis a word which is borrow'd from the Greeks, and signi­fy's in Latin Circuitus. Periods com­prehend (like a Circumference) all the Sences which are Members of the Bo­dy of a Sentence. The Art of compo­sing Periods consists (as is manifest) in equalling and proportioning the expressions of each Member of a Sen­tence. Let us see now how that is to be done.

III.
The Composition of Periods.

TO compose a Period, or (which is the same thing) to express a [Page 135] Sentence that is compos'd of two or more several Sences, with such art, that the expressions in the said Sen­tence may have the Conditions neces­sary to please the Ear; we must first provide that the expressions be not too long, and that the whole Period be proportion'd to the breath of him who is to pronounce it. We must have an eye to all contain'd in the sen­tence that we would comprize in one Period: We may make choice of Ex­pressions close, or extended; and re­trench, or add, as we find convenient, to give it a just length: But we must have a care not to insert Periods that are useless and weak to fill up Vacan­cy's, and compleat the Cadence of the Period. Inania Complementa, & ramen­ta numerorum.

2. The expressions of particular sen­ces, that are Members of the Body of a Sentence, ought to be equal, that the Voice may repose at the end of these Members by equal Intervals. The more this Equality is exact, the more it is pleasant; as we may see in this [Page 152] example. Haec est enim non facta, sed nata lex; quam non didicimus, accepi­mus, legimus, verum ex Natura ipsa arripuimus, hausimus, expressimus: ad quam non docti, sed facti; non instituti, sed imbuti sumus.

3. A Period ought to consist at least of two Members, and at most but of Four: A Period is to have at least two Members, because its Beauty proceeds from the equality of the Members, and equality supposes at least two termes. The Masters of this Art would not have four Members crowded into one period, because being too long, the pronunciation must be forc'd, which must by consequence be displeasing to the Ear, because a Discourse that is incommodious to the Speaker can ne­ver be agreeable to the hearer.

4. The Members of a Period ought to be joynd close, that the ear may per­ceive the equality of the Intervals of Respiration: For this cause the Mem­bers of a Period ought to be united by the union of a single Sentence, of the body of which they are Members. [Page 153] This union is very discernable, for the Voice reposes at the end of every Member, only the better to continue its course: It stops not quite, but at the end of the whole Sentence. A Pe­riod, like a Circle, incompasses and incloses the whole sence of a Sentence, and causes the ear with ease to per­ceive the distinction or union of its Members.

5. The Voice is elevated or de­press'd in each Member: The two parts where the inflexions are made, ought to be equal, that the degrees of Elevation and Depression may corre­spond. In pronouncing an entire Pe­riod, we raise our Voice to the middle of the Sentence, and let it fall gradu­ally afterward. The two parts call'd [...], and [...], must correspond by their Equality.

6. Variety may be in a Period two wayes: In the sense, and in the words. The sense of each Member of the Pe­riod ought to differ among them­selves: In Discourse variety falls in of it self. We cannot express the diffe­rent thoughts of our mind, but by [Page 138] different words of different significa­tions. But a Period may be compos'd of two Members, of three Members, and sometimes of four Members. E­qual Periods are not to follow one a­nother too near; it is best when Dis­course flows with most liberty: The exact and precise equality of the In­tervals for Respiration, may become troublesome.

IV.
Examples of some Latin Periods: Periods are Pronounc'd with Ease.

THe Cadence of the French Lan­guage being not so intelligible, I shall present some passages in Cicero that I have chosen for examples of the Latin Periods. An example of a Period of two Members. 1. Antequam de Republica, (Patres conscripti) di [...]am ea quae dicenda sunt hoc tempore. 2. Ex­ponam breviter Consilium & profecti­onis & reversionis. The following Pe­riod has three members. 1. Nam cum antea, per aetatem, hujus auctoritatem [Page 139] loci contingere non auderem; 2. Sta­tuerem (que) nihil huc nisi perfectum in­dustria, elaboratum ingenio offerri oportere. 3. Meum tempus omne amicorum temporibus transmittendum putavi. This last consists of Four Members. 1. Si quantum in agro, lo­cis (que) desertis audacia potest. 2. Tantum in foro, ac in Judiciis impudentia valeret. 3. Non minus in causa cederet Aulus Coecinna, Sexti Aebusii imp [...] ­dentiae. 4. Quantum in vi facienda cessit audaciae.

Sometimes we conclude the end of each member of a Period with termi­nations almost alike, which produces an equality in the Cadences of Mem­bers, and makes the Period more har­monious; as may be observ'd in se­veral examples, where all the Periods are not equally studyed.

The care that we take to place pro­perly the repose of the voice in the Pe­riods, makes us pronounce them without pain; and it has been ob­serv'd, that things of easiest pronunci­ation are most grateful to the Ear. Id auribus nostris gratum est inven­tum, [Page 156] quod hominum lateribus non so­lum tolerabile, sed etiam facile esse po­test. This reason obliges an Orator to speak Periodically. Periods main­tain Discourse, and are pronounc'd with certain Majesty that gives weight to the words. But it is to be consider'd that this majesty is unseasonable when it follows the motions of Passion, whose precipitation suffers not any regular way of ranging, and compo­sing our words. A Discourse equally periodical cannot be pronounc'd but coldly, Passion admits not of Rules; Periods (as I say'd before) are not good, but when we would speak with Authority, or delight the Ear. We cannot run and walk in Cadence at the same time.

V.
The Figurative ranging of Words, and in what these Figures consist.

WE have sayd at large in the Se­cond Book, that Figures in Discourse are the characters of the a­gitations of the mind; that words do follow upon these agitations; and that when we speak naturally, the passion that causes us to speak, describes it self in our words. The Figures of which we are speaking are different, they are traced at leisure by a mind that is quiet. The first are made by sally's; they are violent, they are strong, pro­per to contest and vanquish a mind that opposes the truth: Those of which we are speaking are without that force, and unfit for any thing but Diversion. I speak of those that are elaborate and studyed; for it may happen that the condition of these last Figures wherewith we adorn our Dis­course for Divertisement, may be found by accident in those Figures which we prepare for Dispute.

[Page 142] We have shown in the first Chapter, that the repetition of the same word, the same letter, or the same sound, is unpleasant: But we have observ'd in the Second Chapter that when that repetition is made with art, it is not ungrateful to the ear. In short, the most disagreeable sounds are pleasing when deliver'd with fit Intervals. The noise of a Hammer is unpleasant, yet when the Smith strikes upon his Anvil with proportion, it makes a kind of Con­sort that is pleasing to the Ear. We cannot repeat a sound, a letter, or word, but it makes our Discourse figurative; The Art of Figures consists in the re­petition of a letter; of the same ter­mination; of the same word, by pro­portionated time, and equality of in­terval, sometime in the beginning, sometime in the end, and sometime in the middle of a Sentence; as may be seen in the examples of these figures, which I have drawn for the most part out of very good Poets.

Figures may be infinite, because the repetition that makes them may be made infinite ways, and all of them [Page 143] different. We may repeat the same word simply without altering the sig­nification, as My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Or we may change the signification of the word,

The Second word Father is taken for the motions of tenderness which Fathers feel for their Children.

Sometimes the same expression is repeated in the beginning of every member of a Discourse.

Sometimes the same word is placed at the beginning, and end of a Sen­tence.

Sometimes the same word is plac'd at the end of one Member, and the be­ginning of the next; sometimes at the beginning of a Member, and the end of the next. Sometimes the same words are repeated in the middle of the Members of a Sentence. Sometimes they are repeated in all the Members; somtimes in the same member the same [Page 161] words are used at the beginning, and then inverting the Order, placed in the end.

There is a sort of Repetition which is made by giving a lesser transpositi­on of the repeated word.

There is another way wherein all these repetitions are made at the same time; as in this example taken out of Prosper.

Rhetoricians give to these several Figures, (which are but several sorts of Repetition to particular Names,) with which it is not necessary to op­press the memory of the Reader.

VI.
Reflections upon these Figures.

I Never design'd to comprehend all sorts of these Figures that may be possibly invented, I have thought it sufficient to give some examples of them. Expressions figured in this man­ner may be valued for the sense which they contain; but 'tis evident that these Figures of themselves are wor­thy but of moderate esteem. The art of making them is very obvious, and indeed too gross: Our Language is natural, and loves them not, and the best of our Authors avoid them with more care than others affect them. They will scarce entertain them when they fall in of themselves, and seem to come by chance. Meaner Wits are fond of these Figures, this feeble arti­fice being commensurate to their strength, and conformable to their Genius. Puerilibus ingeniis hoc gra­tius, quod propius est. Yet I am not so critical as to condemn all these Fi­gures; the examples I have inserted would rise in judgment against me; [Page 147] Let us try then what we can say in their favour.

We compare all these Figures to the Knots and Figures of a Garden: As they are pleasing to the eye by their variety, and order with which they are ingeniously dispos'd; so the sounds and words of a Discourse be­ing figured as we have directed, are as agreeable to the ear. Reason per­mits those Figures when they are not too much affected, and fall in as it were by accident. They may like­wise be compar'd to the Figures upon the works of Nature, where she seems to sport and delight her self in diver­sifying. A Traveller tires himself sometimes in the contemplation of a shell, or a Flower. A melancholly Reader is reviv'd by this Figurative disposition of words; the Figures re­new his attention, and those little Artifices do not displease him. Some of these Figures I have observ'd in Holy Writ, and particularly in Isaiah, the most eloquent of all the Prophets. The Fathers used them, either in com­plaisance to that Age which delighted [Page 164] in them, or because a Sentence is ea­sier retain'd that runs with a Cadence. But continually to affect them is a ve­ry great fault. I know not how it comes about that men have so much esteem for some Authors that are full of those Affectations: I cannot think it a sign of great Wit to spend whole dayes in ranking their words with an inconsiderable exactness. A Discourse with this Artifice does not affect, nor make impression upon a serious per­son; it takes only with those who de­light in sporting with words, and be­longs only to such Authors as are empty of matter; rich only in trifles, and understand nothing but how to surprize the Common people with harmonious noise: Canoris Nugis.

I.
Of the measure of Time in Pro­nunciation.

THe Voice does necessarily stop some time upon every Syllable, [Page 165] to make it distinct and intelligible. Our present Disquisition is about the Measure of Time in matter of Pronun­ciation; how to proportion it, and give it the conditions requisite to such things as the Ear perceives in pronun­ciation. The manner of Pronouncing is not the same in all Countrys. The pronunciation of the present Langua­ges in Europe, is different from the pro­nunciation of the antient Languages as Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. In the present Languages we stop equally up­on all Syllables, and the time in pro­nouncing all the Vowels is the same. In antient Languages the Vowels are distinguish'd by difference of time. Some are call'd long, because pro­nounced in longer time; others are call'd short because their pronuncia­tion is quicker.

We ought not to imagine that we pronounce at this day the Greek and the Latin, as the Greeks and Romans did of old. In their Discourse they distinguish'd the quantity of every Vowel. We, when we pronounce a Latin word, observe only the time of [Page 166] the last Vowel but one. Though the last Vowel be short, we pronounce it as if it were long. Yet Saint Austin tells us, that whoever in reading this verse of Virgil, ‘Arma, virum (que) cano, Trojae qui primus aboris,’ Should pronounce primis for primus, is being long, and us short, he should spoil the harmony of the Verse. Whose Ear among us is so delicate as to per­ceive this difference? Quis se sentit deformitate soni offensum? And yet the ears of the Romans in Saint Au­gustin's time were offended with this alteration.

We call Measure a certain number of Syllables distinguish'd and under­stood by the ear, separatly from ano­ther number of Syllables: The union of two, or more Measures makes a Verse. The Latin word Versus signi­fies properly Ranged; and we give that name to words, because in wri­ting they are distinguished from Prose, [Page 167] which is a continued Line. Prosa O­ratio, quasi prorsa Oratio, Marius Victorinns tells us, that Versus comes a Versuris, that is a repetita Scriptura ea ex parte in quam desinit. The Romans antiently writ by Purrows, having be­gun to write first from the left to the right hand, the second Line was writ from the right to the left hand, as Oxen plough the ground; for which reason, as the same Author observes, that manner of writing was call'd Bu­strophe, a Boum versatione.

II.
Of the making of Verse.

EQual measures of Time in Pro­nunciation, cannot be agreeable (as we have said before) unless they be distinguishable: For that, it is ne­cessary that the Ear distinguishes these Measures, and at the same time that they are heard separatly, that they be joyned together, so as the Ear com­paring one with the other, may per­ceive [Page 168] their equality; which equality presupposes at least two Terms, and some distinction betwixt the sayd Terms: For we do not say of two great things, that they are equal un­less both of them be present to our mind. Besides, the equality of Mea­sures ought to be joyn'd with variety, as we have evinc'd at large in the Se­cond Chapter; from whence we col­lect that the Artifice of the structure of a Verse consists in the Observation of these four things.

1. Each measure ought to be heard distinctly, and separatly from every o­ther Measure.

2. These Measures are to be equal.

3. These Measures ought not to be the same; they must have some diffe­rence betwixt them, that their Vari­ety and Equality may be united in the Measures.

4. This Alliance of Equality and Variety cannot be distinguishable in the Measures if they be not joyn'd one with the other. It is necessary therefore that the ear hears them both together; that it compares them; and [Page 169] that in the comparison it perceives the equality that they have in their difference.

The pronunciation of Languages being different, the structure of Verse cannot be the same in all Languages: All their difference nevertheless is re­ducible to two Heads; for the Latin and Greek Poesy do differ from the French, Italian, and Spanish Poesy, on­ly because in these latter Languages they pronounce all the Syllables e­qually, as not having the distinction of short and long Vowels. Wherefore I shall not be oblig'd to speak parti­cularly of the structure of Verse in each Language: It will suffice for my design to discover the Fundamental Rules of the Latin and French Poe­try.

III.
How the Romans distinguish'd their measures. How many sorts of Mea­sures there are in the structure of a Verse.

EVery Measure in the Latin Poe­try is understood separatly and distinctly by the elevation of the Voice at the beginning, and the de­pression or relaxation of it at the end. These Measures are call'd Feet, be­cause the Verse seem to march or step in Cadence by means of their Mea­sure. So the Foot of a Latin verse, as Victorinus observes, is form'd by the raising or relaxation of the Voice. Al­terna syllabarum sublatione & positio­ne, pedes nituntur & formantur. The Romans beat their measure as they re­cited their Verse: Plaudendo recita­babant, Pedis pulsus ponebatur, tollebatur (que) from whence came this phrase, Percutere pedes versus, to distinguish the Feet or Measures of a Verse.

[Page 171] To determine how many different Measures or Feet are used in the La­tin Poetry, we must attentively ob­serve these following Rules which are founded upon the necessity of ren­dring our Measures clear and di­stinct.

IV.
Of the Quality of Measures.

WHen two Syllables are pro­nounc'd in equal time, the quantity or time of the sayd Syllables are reckon'd to be equal. This Equa­lity is found betwixt two Syllables, and a third, when in the same time that one of the sayd Syllables is pro­nounc'd, we have leasure to pronounce the other two. We say that the time of one syllable is either the double or treble of the time of a second syllable, if in the time that we pronounce the one the other may be pronounc'd in the same space of time twice or thrice: so the quantity of a long Syllable is double the time of a short. When the time of the pronunciation of two Syl­lables can be measured by a precise measure, and the time of the pronun­ciation of the one is double to the [Page 176] time of pronunciation of the other, the proportion prevents confusion, and makes the Ear perceive distinctly the quantity of the said Syllables; for which reason it must necessarily please, seeing the Equality (as we have sayd before) is agreeable only because it renders Sounds distinct, and takes away confusion. There is in eve­ry Measure or Foot an Elevation, and a Relaxation. Pes habet elationem & positionem. To the end therefore that Equality may be kept, the time of Elevation ought to be equal to the time of Relaxation. In a Spondaeus, the time of Relaxation, and Elevation perfectly equal, because the Foot is compos'd of two long Syllables. It is the same in the Dactylus and Anapae­stus, the time of the two short Syllables being equal to the time of a long Syllable. In the Trochaeus and the Jam­bus the equality is not so exact, for the difference betwixt a long Syllable and a short is not so distinguishible as to offend the Ear.

This is to be observ'd; a considera­ble silence is equivalent at least to a [Page 177] short quantity. So a Trochaeus is equi­valent to a Spondaeus or a Dactylus, if after that Foot the voice reposes and stops, and then the time of Relaxation is equal with the time of Elevation; which is of importance to be consi­der'd, in answer to an Objection that may be rais'd against what we have sayd, that a Measure or Foot does ne­cessarily require two Syllables. In Odes there are feet to be found that consist only of one long Syllable; but the Repose of the Voice, Distinctionis mora, where the silence that follows a long quantity, holds the place of a short, with that long quantity, it makes a Trochaeus, which is a measure of two Syllables.

In this we may see the grounds of what we have sayd before, that a foot cannot be compos'd of more than two long Syllables; for if the Elevation or Relaxation comprehends the in­tervenient Syllable, there will be no farther equality betwixt the two parts. If this Syllable be not com­priz'd in either of the two parts of the measure [...] will add nothing to [Page 178] the harmony, and by consequence be troublesom. For this reason the Am­phimacres, and the Amphibrachus can­not stand in a Verse, because there must be either a short quantity be­twixt two long; or a long quantity betwixt two short; so that the inter­mediat Syllable not being to be joyn'd with either of the extremities, but by troubling the Equality, it be­comes useless, and interrupts the har­mony. And yet these quantities may be brought into an harmonious stru­cture, the times of their Elevation and Relaxation being proportionable. In a foot of three long Syllables (which we have call'd Molossus) the time of Relaxation upon the two last long Syllables, is double to the time of ele­vation upon the first long Syllable, for which reason the times are proportio­nable, and by consequence may be agreeable to the Ear as we have sayd before. So a Discourse compos'd of a mixture of those feet, may be har­monious. But in this case Verse is excluded, because the harmony of Verse ought to be distinguishible, [Page 179] which cannot be, if the equality of the measures be not axactly observ'd. In an Jambus and a Trochaeus this e­quality is not to be kept; but the dif­ference betwixt a short quantity and a long is not much discernible, be­cause a short quantity is pronounc'd quick. Whereas the inequality be­twixt the parts of a measure of three long Syllables is very plain, being much greater; for two long are as much as four short, V V V V, one long, is to two long as to V V, and one long is to one short as to V. Vi­ctorinus tells us a short is a quantity, and therefore as Servius Honorius ob­serves, a Spondaeus has four times.

A measure is equal to another mea­sure, when the time of their pronunci­ation is equal. The Spondaeus, the Dactylus, and the Anapaestus are of e­qual measures. Tempora elationis & positionis aequalia sunt. The Trochaeus, the Jambus, and the Tribrachus are likewise of equal measures, for the two short of the three of a Tribra­chus being equivalent to the one long, that foot is equal to a Trochaeus, or an [Page 180] Jambus. The equality is not exactly just betwixt a Spondaeus, or an Jam­bus; but, as is sayd, the difference being small, a verse may be well com­pos'd of the six sort of Feet before mention'd, because they are equal, or very near equal. We shall speak here­after of the placing of these feet.

V
Of the Variety of these Measures, and the Alliance of their Equality with their Variety.

VAriety is so necessary to prevent the disgust of the most agreea­ble things, that the Musitians who ac­curatly endeavour the proportion and consonance of Sounds, do always af­fect discord in their Harmony, that is to say, they neglect the perfect Uni­son of their Voice, that grating may, like Salt, provoke the appetite of the Ear. If therefore the Poets should not approve the Rules we have given, we are not to be blam'd, because to [Page 181] them we have added this, that we are to correct the sweetness of the Equa­lity, by the Salt (as I may call it) of the Variety.

Variety is found several ways in Latin verse. I speak not of that which consists in the difference of Sense, and the diversity of words. First, it is clear that in the Dactylus, the Trochaeus, the Jambus, the Anapaestus, and the Tribrarchus the Elevation is fardiffe­rent, from the depression or relaxati­on: and though the quantity of two short Vowels be equal to a long, yet the Ear perceives a sensible difference betwixt a long Syllable and two short, Syllables: so though the time or quantity of a Spondaeus, a Dactylus, and Anapaestus be equal, yet their difference is discernible. In dactylo tollitur una longa, ponuntur duae bre­ves; In Anapaesto tolluntur duae breves, ponitur una longa; S: in spondaeo tolli­tur & ponitur una longa.

A Verse is not commonly made of one sort of feet; Hexameters are made of Spondy's and Dactyles. Pentameters of Spondy's, Dactyles, and Anapoestis. [Page 182] Jambicks of several sorts of Feet. Ly­rick, are more diversify'd than others; because they not only receive different Feet, but also the number of their feet is unequal, sometimes more and some­times less.

A Verse composed wholly of Spon­des, or wholly of Dactyles, would not please; we must temper the swiftness of the Dactyle, by the slowness and gravity of the Sponde: An Jambick may be made perfectly of Jambuses, because that Verse passing exceeding swift, though it consists of six Feet, seems to have but three. Wherefore the too great equality of Measures in so small a number, cannot be trou­blesom, as is evident in this verse.

The measures in an Hexameter are large, but very sensible: so if their equality be not accompanyed with variety, the Verse is disagreeable.

Lyrick Verse is compos'd common­ly of several sorts of Feet; because that Verse being design'd to be Sung [Page 183] in Musick, the Harmony would not be pleasing, if the difference of Feet, did not afford occasion to the Musici­ans to diversifie their Voices.

The allyance of Variety and Equa­lity is manifest in Latin Poesy. It is evident, for example, that in a Da­ctyle equality and variety is to be found; Equality, because the time of two short Syllables is equivalent to the long; and Variety, because as we have sayd, the Ear distinguishes very well of the difference betwixt one long Syllable and two short. Though the Verses be compos'd of different Feet, yet all those different feet are e­qual, because the time of their pro­nunciation is equal.

VI.
How the Romans made the Allyance of the Equality and Variety of their Verse distinguishable.

THe Latins joyn'd their measures in Verse, by Sections or Re­trenchment, [Page 184] of certain Syllables, of the precedent word, to make a foot, with the Syllables in the beginning of the following word; as for example.

The Syllable as in meas, is a Secti­on; The Syllable as with the Syllable er in the following word errare ma­king a Spondaeus. This Section is it that incorporates the measures, and presents them together to the ear; for the voice not being used to stop in the middle of a word, and divide it, pro­nounces the following word swiftly, after it has once begun it. But this Section makes the feet to end and be­gin in the middle of a word; so the Voice that reposes not in those places, joyning the Syllables of each word, joyns the feet at the same time, and links them one within the other. This observation may be more visible by cutting the two following Verses in­to such Sections.

The Voice distinguishes each of these Measures (as is sayd before) by an Elevation at the beginning, and a relaxation at the end; but it binds also these Measures by these Sections. When the Voice has pronounc'd the Syllable me in meas, it pronounces as next, which makes part of the fol­lowing Foot, and so joyns the first and the following Measure together. The Second Measure is joyn'd with the Third, for the Voice not stopping in the middle of the word, Errare, goes on without interruption, (after ha­ving say'd er) to the pronunciation of the end rare, by which means the Ear receives them united and joyn'd together. The third measure is joyn'd in the same manner with the Fourth. Verse without Sections do not appear to be Verse, because (as we have sayd) the Equality of Measures that makes the beauty of a Verse, is not distingui­shable, unless they be joyn'd, and the Ear sensible of their Conjunction. We may read the following words, and [Page 186] not observe that they make a Verse, because they want the aforesaid Se­ction.

It remains now only that I speak of the number of Measures requir'd in the composition of Verse. It is clear a Verse requires at least two Mea­sures. We have shown that it is the equality of these Measures that plea­ses the Ear, when the said Measures being presented to it, it perceives the equality by comparing them one with another: But, as has been often sayd, all comparison presupposes at least two terms. If the number of these Measures be too great, it is plain the Ear that ought to consider them all together, will be overlay'd and op­press'd with the greatness of their number. Wherefore a Verse is never compos'd of above six great Mea­sures, such as the Sponde's and the Dactyles. An Jambick is capable of eight Feet, because as aforesayd, the [Page 187] Foot which denominates that Verse, passes very quick, and eight of those measures make but Four of the Grea­ter.

VII.
Of the French Poetry.

THe French distinguish the mea­sures of their Verse after ano­ther manner than the Romans. The French elevate the Voice at the be­ginning of the Sentence, and abate it only at the end of a Sentence; where­fore if a measure in French Poesy should begin in the middle of one word, and conclude in the middle of another word, the Voice could not di­stinguish by any inflexion, the sayd measure as it does in Latin. To put distinction therefore betwixt the mea­sures, and that the Ear may perceive that distinction by Elevation of the Voice at the beginning, and depression at the end, each measure ought to con­tain [Page 188] a perfect sense; which makes the measure large, and so as a French Verse is seldom compos'd of above two Measures, which parts it in two equal parts, of which the first is call'd Hemistick. So the measures of the French Verse are distinguish'd after a natural way, for naturally and with­out any art we raise the Voice at the beginning of an expression with a compleat sense, and we let the Voice fall naturally at the end of a compleat sense. The Equality of the measures depends upon an equal number of Vowels; in the French Language all the Vowels are pronounc'd with e­qual time: It is evident, if two Ex­pressions have an equal number of Vowels, the times of their pronuncia­tions are equal.

The equality of two measures of which every Verse is compos'd, can give but an indifferent pleasure, so we commonly joyn two Verses together which make four Measures: This conjunction is made by the union of the same sense. To render this Con­junction the more sensible, the Verses [Page 189] which comprehend the same sense, are made to Rime, that is, to end both in the same manner. Nothing is more perceptible to the Ear, than the sound of words: So Rime that is nothing but repetition of the same sound, is very proper for the better distinction of the measures of Verse. When upon the declension of the Empire, they be­gan to give the same quantity to all the Vowels, the Poets troubled them­selves no farther than for Rime, and to equal the expressions which they ended by those Rimes. This way of making Verses is very simple, and quickly tyresom, unless we be careful to occupy the mind of the Reader by the richness and variety of our thoughts, so as it may not be sensible of their simplicity.

I shall show in few words the Fun­damentals of the French Poetry, and to render what I have sayd the more intelligible, apply the same to the two following Verses.

[Page 200] The Ear perceives only two Mea­sures in each of these Verses, and distinguishes them by raising of the Voice in the beginning, and the de­pression of it at the end of each of the Measures, which contain a per­fect sense. The Four Measures of these two Verses are bound together by the union of the same sense, and by the Rime. Besides the equality of time, we may observe that the equali­ty of the repose of the Voice (which is repos'd in pronouncing our Verse by equal Intervals) contributes much to their beauty: I speak not of the different works in Verse, Alexandrin's Sonnets, Stanzas, &c. Those Ver­ses differ among themselves only by the number of their Syllables: Some are compos'd of longer, some of shor­ter, measures. In some the Rimes are intermixed.

As among the Latins works are compos'd of different sorts of Verse, so among the French they couple short Verse and long Verse together. The Art that is used in these kind of Works has nothing in it difficult e­nough [Page 201] to deserve our explanation.

It is not sufficient to give a Verse its just measure; to have regard to the quantity or time of every Vow­el, or to the number of the same Vow­els; Their Concourse, and the Con­course of Consonants with which they are found, augment or lessen their Measures. Betwixt words of the same quantity, or words that contain an equal number of Vowels, some are ruff, some sweet, some fluent, others languishing; wherefore to render the measures of a Verse equal, (whether it be in Latin, or whether it be in French,) we ought to have near as much care to the Consonants as to the Vowels.

I.
There is a strange sympathy betwixt the Soul and Numbers; and what Numbers are.

WE have seen that a Discourse is agreeable when the times of the Pronunciation of Syllables which compose it are measured by exact mea­sures; That the time, (for example) of a Syllable is exactly either the double or treble time of another Syllable. The exactest measures are those which are express'd by numbers. In Geome­try all exact Reasons are call'd Rati­ones numeri ad numerum: and there­fore the Masters in the Art of Spea­king have thought good to call Nu­meros whatever the Ear perceives of proportion in the pronunciation of a Sentence, whether it be the proporti­on of the measure of Time, or a just di­stribution of the Intervals of Respira­tion. Cicero de Orat. lib. 3. tells us, Numerosum est id in omnibus sonis [Page 203] at (que) Vocibus, quod habet quasdam im­pressiones, & quod metiri possumus in­tervallis aequalibus. And Numerosa Oratio in Latin, is the same as an elegant or harmonious Discourse with us. The Cadence of a studied Discourse is likewise call'd a number. Saint Augustin observes that our Souls have a sympathy and allyance with these numbers; and that the dif­ferent motions of the mind do cor­respond and follow certain Tones of the Voice, to which the Soul has a se­cret inclination. Mira animi nostri cum numeris cognatio: Omnes affe­ctus Spiritus nostri pro sui diversitate habent pro prios modos in voce, quo­rum nescio qua occulta familiaritate connectantur. Longinus that excel­lent Critick, tells us that these num­bers are instruments very proper to provoke or agitate our Passions.

To search into the Causes of this marvellous sympathy betwixt Num­bers and our Soul, and how they come to that power and efficacy up­on our passions, we must know that the motions of the mind, do follow [Page 204] the motions of the Animal Spi­rits; as those Spirits are slow or quick, calm or turbulent, the mind is affected with different Passions: The least force is able to obstruct or excite the Animal Spirits, their resi­stance is but small; and their Levity is the cause that the least unusual mo­tion determines them; the least mo­tion of a sound puts them in agitati­on. Our Body is so dispos'd, that a ruff and boysterous sound forcing our Spirits into the Muscles, disposes it to flight, and begets an aversion, in the same manner as a frightful Object be­gets horror by the eye. On the other side a soft and moderate sound, attracts and invites our attention. If we speak lowd or hastily to a Beast, it will run from us; by speaking gently, we al­lure and make it tame. From whence we may collect that diversity of Sounds do produce diversity of moti­ons in the Animal Spirits.

Every motion that is made in the Organs of Sense, and communicated to the Animal Spirits, is connext by the God of Nature, to some certain [Page 205] motion of the Soul; Sound can ex­cite passions, and we may say, that e­very passion answers to some sound or other; which is it, that excites in the Animal Spirits, the motion wherewith it is allyed. This Connexion is the cause of our Sympathy with Num­bers, and that naturally, according to the Tone of the Speaker, our Resent­ment is different. If a Tone be langui­shing and doleful, it inspires sadness; if it be lowd and brisk, it begets viva­city and courage; some Ayres are gay, and others Melancholly.

To discover the particular Causes of this Sympathy, and explain how among the numbers, some produce sadness, some joy, we should consi­der the different motion of the Animal Spirits in each of our Passions. It is easy to be conceiv'd, that if the im­pression of such a sound in the Organs of hearing is follow'd by a motion in the Animal Spirits like that which they have in a fit of Anger, (that is, if they be acted violently and with in­equality) it may raise Choller, and continue it. On the contrary, if the [Page 206] impression be doleful and melanchol­ly, if the commotion it causes in the Animal Spirits be feeble and langui­shing, and in the same temper as com­monly in Melancholly, what we have sayd ought not to seem strange; espe­cially if we reflect upon what has been deriv'd to us from many eminent Au­thors, relating to the strange effects of Musick. Some have affirm'd there were persons who play'd so excellent­ly upon the Flute, that they knew how to accommodate their Ayres to all kinds of Malady's, how to ease those who were in pain, delight those who were sad, and recover those who were sick.

II.
When Numbers agree with the things that are express'd, the Discourse be­comes more significative and lively.

IT is not to be doubted but sounds are significative, and of power to [Page 197] renew the Idea's of several things: The sound of a Trumpet, does it not put us in mind, and provoke us to Combate? Upon this score Cicero speaking of Thucydides that excellent Historian, tells us, that when he de­scribes a Battle, he does it with that Emphasis and Elevation of Style, that makes us think our selves present, and that we heard the Trumpet indeed. De Bellicis scribens, concitatiori nu­mero videtur bellicum canere. When we hear the noise of the Sea, we ima­gine it presently, though perhaps it is out of our sight: When we hear a man speak that we know, his image presents it self to our mind, before we see him with our eyes. In a word, the Idea's of things have a secret Allyance and Connexion among themselves, and do excite one another. It is not to be question'd, but certain sounds, certain Numbers, and certain Cadences, do contribute to awake the Images of things with which they have had al­lyance and connexion. Virgil is very happy in giving Cadence to his Verse, that alone is sufficient to excite the [Page 198] Idea's of the things he would signify. Who is it that reading these words

would not conceive by the quickness and elevation of the Cadence, the pre­cipitation wherewith Dido (the person meant in that place) threw her self upon the Pyle which she had prepar'd to burn her self. When I read this de­scription of Sleep,

Me-thinks it lulls me, and the smooth sliding of the Verse gives me an Idea of sleep, that slides gently in my fancy without being perceiv'd. In this Speech of Sinon the Impostor, this doleful number

Is enough to excite compassion in the Trojans. Often-times the manner of delivering a thing, the posture, the ha­bits, are more Eloquent and Emphati­cal than the words. A neglected ha­bit, a dejected posture, a sorrowful look, prevails more than argument, or intreaty. So the Cadence of Words is many times of more force than the words themselves. In short, we can­not doubt of the efficacy of the Tone. A bold Tone begets an Impression of Fear. A sorrowful Tone disposes to compassion. Discourse loseth much of its force when not sustain'd with ad­vantages of action and voice: It is an Instrument that receives its vertue from the hand that manages it. Words upon Paper, is like a dead body upon the ground: In the mouth of the Speaker, they are lively and vigorous. A Cadence suitable to the things of which we discourse, keeps it (as it were) alive, by preserving the Tone with which it ought to be pro­nounc'd.

III.
The way of joyning our Discourse by Numbers that correspond to the things signified.

PLato pretends that the Names of things were not given by chance, and that Reason has greater share in the establishment of Language, than Fancy and Caprice. To justifie this Opinion, he demonstrates by several Examples that the first roots from whence the other words were de­riv'd, were made of Letters, whose sound express'd after a manner, the thing signified. It would be hard to defend this Opinion of Plato in all the Radixes, but yet without doubt in all Languages there are words whose sounds are significative; and the beau­ty of their Names consists in their correspondence with the thing that they signifie, either by the agreeable­ness of the Cadence, as in the word Boar: or because it is deriv'd from a­nother [Page 201] name that signifies something which resembles it.

He who would joyn his Discourse by numbers conformable to his sense; needs no more than to consult his Ears, and learn from them what is the proper sound of every Letter, Vowel, Consonant, Syllable, and with what thing that sound can most properly a­gree. Some Authors have been very industrious in observing these practi­ces: For example, 'tis observ'd the Consonant F expresses the Wind, ‘Cum flamma furentibus Austris.’

The Consonant S expresses a Cur­rant of Water or Blood, ‘—Et plenos Sanguine Rivot.’

In like manner it expresses a Tem­pest, ‘Luctantes Ventos, tempestates (que) so­noras.’

The Letter L agrees with soft soft things,

Virgil uses several M's very happily to express an obstreperous confus'd noise.

Among the Vowels, some have a clear and strong sound; others are weak and obscure: and we may com­pose our Discourse as we please of such as are proper for our design, when we have a mind our Cadence should be weak or strong, clear or obscure.

Particular regard must be had to the measures of time. Among those Measures the Spondaeus marches grave­ly; The Dactylus rowls off some­thing faster; the Jambus goes faster than that; and the Trochaeus seems to run, and takes its name from a Greek word of that signification. The Ana­poestus, in opposition to the Dactylus rowling on pretty fast in the begin­ning, at the latter end, seems to knock or dash against something that repells it; from whence that also has its name, and is as much as Reper­cussion. The effects of these measures are all different. He who would ac­commodat the Cadence of his words to [Page 203] the things of which he treats, ought to select those feet which are most conformable to them. Virgil makes use of Dactyles to express the swift­ness of an action,

On the contrary he waves them, and makes use of Sponde's when Gravity agrees better with his expression.

Cecero reports that Pythagoras fin­ding a company of young Bully's for­cing violently into a civil House, made them quit their ruinous design by commanding the young Wench that was singing to put Sponde's into her Song. Pythagoras, concitatos ad vim [Page 204] pudicae domui inferendam, juvenes, jussa mutare in spondeum modos tibici­na, compescuit. The Spondeus and the Dactylus are the two largest feet, therefore Hexameters of all Verse are the most Majestick, and the Sponde at the end makes us pronounce it strong, by sustaining our Voice. The Anapaestus which is at the end of the Pentameter, causes the Voice to fall; and therefore Pentameters are used to express complaints and such-like, where the Voice is falling perpetual­ly, and its course often interrupted. The Pentametre and Hexametre are joyn'd, that the weakness of the one may be supported by the strength of the other. The Jambus is a foot so fleet, that the Cadence of a Verse compos'd of them, is often unpercei­vable: It passes with such swiftness that that kind of Verse is scarce di­stinguishable from prose: For which reason the Jambus is used commonly in Plays, and pieces for the Stage, where it is requisite the style be natu­ral, and little differing from Prose.

[Page 205] 'Tis an easy matter to render the Cadence of a Discourse smooth or ruff: To make it smooth we must a­void the concourse of Vowels, which causes chasmes and void places in our Discourse, and hinders its equali­ty and union. The Concourse of Vow­els, and the Concourse of Consonants (particularly of those which are sharp, and those which do not accord) do make a Discourse rough and uneven. A rough Discourse agrees witn things that are ruff and unpleasant, Rebus atrocibus conveniunt verba auditu aspera. To describe great things, we must make use of bigg words, words that make a noise, and fill the mouth. The Cadence of a mean Discourse ought to be neglected, and languishing; for this cause it is requisite that all the terms of which it makes use, should have a feeble weak Sound.

The longer the Period's are, the stronger is the action of the Voice: when it concerns us to speak sorrow­fully, our expressions ought to be short and abrupt. If the action be ve­hement; if we be to add weight to [Page 206] our words (as those who would make themselves formidable, do common­ly make a great noise) we must make use of long periods, which cannot be pronounc'd but with a tone more than ordinarily strong.

But no more of this; it would be loss of time to give particular Rules for each number. It is not to be ac­quir'd but by long habit, and strong application, which animates and im­boldens us in our Compositions; and it is naturally that we make choice of rough or smooth terms according to the things we would express. I would not have an Author perplex himself to find out a significative Cadence, as he would do to find out a leak in a Ship. I confess freely, 'tis by accident when he succeeds; 'Tis sometimes impossible, and we ought not to ingage rashly in a thing where the success is subject to many accidents.

In appearance the greatest part of Poets were ignorant of this accord betwixt numbers and things. They ai­med at nothing in their Verse but a certain softness that flagg'd and grew [Page 207] languid by degrees. With them the joyful and the afflicted; the Master and the Man, spake in the same tone: A Clown spake as quaintly as a Cour­tier, and yet those Poets have their admirers, who think they favour Vir­gil exceedingly, when they repeat a­ny of the rough and uneven Verses wherewith he sometimes express'd mean things, and say he did it on purpose to make the softness and gen­tleness of the other more sensible. They do not relish the excellent Ca­dence of this Verse, where he de­scribes the faint weak stroke that old Priamus gave to Neoptolomeus, which is weak and feeble as it ought to be:

I am asham'd to use the authority of two such great Masters, to evince a truth that has so little need of proof: Yet Cicero and Quintilian both do highly commend those who have that felicity of accommodating their num­bers and their sense. Historians, Po­ets, [Page 208] and Orators, have studiously en­deavoured for this Beauty. Vlpian in his Commentaries upon the Orati­ons of Demosthenes, observes that as oft as that Prince of the Greek Ora­tors spoke of King Philip's progress, he stops the pronuntiation of his Dis­course, and intersperses several little particles to signify how slowly King Philip advanc'd in his Conquests. Quoties tardos Philippi progressus vo­luit ostendere, tardam, multis inter­jectis particulis, orationem facie­bat.

As for Virgil, it is in that he may be sayd to be unimitable, and that no Poet has hitherto come near him. We We need not produce our Examples, for any one may find them in his Book: and yet to better our Ob­servation of the excellence of that Po­et, I shall represent some few of the best places that offer themselves to my Memory. In the first of his Aene­ad's, where he brings in Neptune spea­king, he gives him words with a Ca­dence exalted, and suiting well with the Majesty of the Speaker.

Mark the pomp of these three fol­lowing Verses wherewith he flatters the Emperor.

No man can read his description of Polyphemus, that horrible and defor­med Gyant, without impressions of horror and fear.

As also this following:

The Cadence of this Verse— Pro­cumbit humi bos, imitates the fall of that great Beast. This Verse, Qua­drupedante putrem sonitu quatit ungu­la campum, expresses the ardour and fury of a high-metled Horse. Could [Page 210] Sadness be better express'd than by this so often interrupted Cadence.

The following Verses are full of the sorrow of a person in affliction for the loss of his Friend,— Te amice requivi Conspicere, &c.

Dionysius Halicarnassaeus, a Writer of the Roman Antiquities, and several Treatises of Rhetorick, shows that Ho­mer frequently used that Connexion, and chose his numbers proper to his matter; he instances in several Ver­ses, and reflects upon them with great judgment and elegance. He tells us, that in his Verse Homer had a way of making his Vowels clash and inter­fer, to stop the course of our pronun­ciation. To express the length of the time that Sisyphus imploy'd in his labour, he uses Syllables that have their Stops and Notches, to signify thereby the resistance of every Stone, [Page 211] by reason of their own natural weights, and their dashing against e­very other stone: And in short, that we might not think it meer chance that his numbers answer'd to his mat­ter, he shows how the Cadence is quite different from the next Verse, where he describes the fall of Sisy­phus his Stone, how it tumbles from the top to the bottom, after it had been carryed up with so much diffi­culty and pain. The Cadence is ve­ry swift; and the words seem to rowl and tumble with the same precipitati­on as the Stone.

It is not to be imagin'd that writing of all sorts of things, it is necessary the sounds of our words should be so expressive. This exactness is not ne­cessary every where, but only where our judgment is most obvious, and where our design to work upon our Auditors is greatest. Besides, this Cadence must be natural; we must not subvert the Order of Nature, transpose words, retrench a good ex­pression, insert an ill; to give a just Cadence to our Discourse. How pre­cious [Page 212] soever a Discourse may be, whose numbers express the things as well as the words; yet great care is to be taken that we do not prefer that beauty to the more solid justness of Argument, and greatness of thought. Our mind cannot attend two different things at one time, and therefore it happens often that whilst we are busy in contenting our Senses, we displease our Reason. Sense is the Noblest part of Discourse, indeed it's very soul; and that Soul is it which deserves our principal care.

I.
We must make choice of a Style suitable to the Matter of which we treat. What Style is.

WE have observed that Words do not give the same Idea of things that they signifie, and that to make us understand the form of our Thoughts, we ought to use a­mong [Page 2] our Terms such as represent their true lineaments, and their natu­ral colours, that is to say, such as awa­ken in the minds of other people, the same Ideas, and the same Sentiments as we have in ours. In this Fourth part we shall make it appear, that according to the difference of the matter, we must make use of a pecu­liar manner of Writing; and that as every thing requires convenient words, so an entire subject requires a style that may be proportionable to it. The Rules we have given for Elocuti­on, regard no farther than (if we may so say) the members of Discourse; that of which we are now speaking re­lates to the whole body.

Style, in its primitive signification, is taken for a kind of Bodkin where­with the Antients writ upon Bark, and little Tables covered with Wax: To say who is the Author of such a Wri­ting, we say 'tis such a mans hand, whereas the Antients said it was such a mans Style. In process of time, the word Style came to be applyed only to the manner of expressing: When [Page 3] we say such a discourse is Cicero's Style, we intend Cicero used to ex­press himself in that manner. Before I determine with what style we are to treat of several things that are the sub­jects of common Discourse, what ought to be the Style of an Orator, an Historian, or Poet, who would delight, or instruct; I thought it not imperti­nent to enquire into the different Ex­pressions wherewith several Authors express themselves in the same Lan­guage, and who writing on the same Subjects endeavour the same Stile. Some are diffuse, and though they pretend to be succinct, half their words may be retrenched without prejudice to the sense: Others are dry, flat, barren, and what Effort soever they may make to beautify and adorn things, they leave them half-naked: The Style of some is strong; in others it is weak and languishing; in some it is rugged, in others it is smooth: In a word, as faces are different, so are the ways of Writing, and it is the cause of this Difference of which we are going to enquire.

II.
The Qualities of the Style depend upon the Qualities of the Imagination, Memory, and Judgment of the Writer.

WHen the outward Object strikes upon our Sense, the motion it makes is communicated by the Nerves to the very Centre of the Brain, whose substance being soft, re­ceives thereby certain prints and impressions: The Alliance or Con­nexion betwixt the Mind and the Bo­dy, is the cause that the Ideas of Cor­poral things are annex'd to these Prints; so that when the Prints of an Object, (for Example of the Sun) are imprinted in the brain, the Idea of the Sun presents it self to the mind; and as oft as the Idea of the Sun is presented to the Mind, the Impressions caus'd by the presence of the Sun, begin to open and dilate. We may call those Prints the Images of the Objects. The power the Soul has to form upon the Brain the Ima­ges [Page 5] of things that have been percei­v'd, is called Imagination, which word signifies both that power of the Soul, and the Images that it forms.

The Qualities of a good Imaginati­on are very necessary to Well-speak­ing; for Discourse is nothing but a Copy of those things of which we are to speak, form'd before by the Soul. If the Original be confused, the Copy must be so also; if the Original be not, the Copy cannot be like. The form, the clearness, the good Order of our Idea's, depend upon the clearness and distinction of the Impressions which the Objects make upon our Brain; so that it cannot be doubted but the Quality of the Style must de­pend upon the quality of the Imagi­nation. The substance of the Brain has not the same qualities in all heads, and therefore we are not to wonder if the ways of Speaking be different in each Author.

Words read or heard leave their Im­pressions in the Brain, as well as other Objects, so as we commonly think of Words and Things at the same time; [Page 6] the Impressions of Words and Things which have been opened in Company at several times, are linked together in such sort that the Things represent themselves to the mind with their Names: when this falls out, we say the Memory is happy, and its Felici­ty consists only in the easiness where­with the prints of words, and the things to which they are linked, do open themselves at the same time; that is to say, when the name of the thing follows the thought we have of it. When the Memory is unfaithful in representing the proper Terms of the things committed to it, we cannot speak justly; we are forced either to say nothing, or make use of the first words that occur, though perhaps they are not proper to express what we would say. Happy and just Ex­pression is the effect of good Memo­ry.

In short, it is manifest the Quali­ties of the Mind are the cause of the Difference observed among all Au­thors. Discourse is the Image of the Mind; we shew our Humours and In­clinations [Page 7] in our Words before we think of it. The Minds then being different, what wonder if the Style of every Author has a character that di­stinguishes it from all others, though all use the same Terms and Expressi­ons in the same Language.

III.
The advantage of a Good Imagination.

A Good Imagination contributes particularly to the clearness and facility of Discourse 'Tis easy to speak of things that we see, their pre­sence guides and regulates our Dis­course; but Imagination supplies us with things. A Man whose Imagina­tion is easy, represents to himself whatever he is to say: he sees clear­ly before the eyes of his mind; so that expressing by his words, the things as present to him, his Discourse is clear, and the things do range and take their places of themselves in his Discourse. In the Imagination there are two things; the first is Material, the second Spiritual; the Material is [Page 8] the prints caused by the impressions the Objects make upon the sense. The Spiritual is the Perception or Know­ledg the Soul has of these prints, and the power we have to renew or open them when once they are made. We shall enquire here only into the mate­rial part. I cannot explain exactly these prints without ingaging my self in Philosophical Disquisitions remote from my Subject: I shall only say these prints are made by the Animal Spirits, which being the purest and most subtile part of the Blood, fly up like a Vapour from the Heart to the Brain: These Spirits are uncertain in their course. When a Nerve is stretch­ed, they follow its motion, and by their Current they draw several Fi­gures in the Brain, according as the Nerves are differently stretched or contracted; but which way soever these Figures are made, it is plain, the clearness of the Imagination depends upon the temperament of the sub­stance of the Brain, and the quality of the Animal Spirits.

IV.
The Qualities of the Substance of the Brain, and the Animal Spirits, are necessary to make a good Imagina­tion.

FIgures drawn upon the Surface of the Water leave no prints, be­cause they are immediatly filled up. Figures ingrav'd upon Marble are sel­dom perfect, because the hardness of the Matter gives too much resistance to the Chissel. This gives us to un­derstand that the substance of the Brain ought to have certain Qualities, without which it cannot receive ex­actly the Images of such things as the Soul imagines. If the Brain be too moist, and the little Threads and Fi­bers which compose it too feeble and lax, they cannot retain the Foldings and Impressions given them by the A­nimal Spirits, and by consequence the things drawn there are confused, and like those we endeavour to draw up­on [Page 10] Mud: If the Brain be too dry, and the Fibers too hard, 'tis impossi­ble all the strokes of the Objects should leave their Impressions, which makes every thing seem dry and mea­gre to men of that Temper. I speak not of the other Qualities of the Brain, of its heat or its coldness: when it is hot, the Spirits move with more ease; when it is cold, the Spirits are slow and retarded in their course, the Imagination is dull, and nothing to be imagined but with trouble.

The Animal Spirits ought to have three qualities; they ought to be plen­tiful, hot, and equal in their motion: A brain whose Animal Spirits are ex­hausted, is empty of Images. Plenty of Spirits makes the Imagination fruit­ful: The prints drawn by the Spirits in their course being large, whilst the source that produces them is full, they represent all things easily, and under multitude of Figures which supply us amply with matter for discourse; those who have not this Fertility supply'd to them by abundance of Spirits, are commonly dry. Things imprinting [Page 11] themselves but weakly upon their I­magination, they appear little and meagre, and dry; so their Discourse expressing nothing but what passes in their Imagination, is dry and meagre and jejune. The first are great Pra­ters; they speak nothing but Hyper­boles, every thing appears great to them: The others are low, mean, and insipid in their discourse. The Ima­gination of the first makes every thing greater; the Imagination of the last lessens them as much.

When there is heat enough, and the Animal Spirits are warm, quick, and in great quantity, the Tongue is not sufficiently nimble to express all that is represented in the Imagination; for besides that abundance (which is the first quality requisite to the Spirits) forming the Images of things in their full dimensions; the second Quality, (which is heat) rendring the Animal Spirits lively and quick, the Imagina­tion is full in an instant of differing I­mages. Those who possess these two Qualities, do immediatly without thinking find more matter upon any [Page 12] subject proposed than others after long Meditation. A cold Spirit can­not move the Imagination without helps. Experience tells us, that want of Heat is a great Obstruction to E­loquence: In violent passion where the Animal Spirits are extraordinarily stirred, the dryest Tempered Men de­liver themselves with ease, the most barren want no words. And this Di­versity of Images in the Imagination, causes a pleasant variety of Figures and Motions that follow those of the Imagination.

That the Imagination be clear and unconfus'd, the motion of the Animal Spirits ought to be equal. When their course is irregular, sometimes slow, and sometimes swift, the Images that they imprint are without proportion; as in sick People, where the motion of the whole Mass of Blood is irregular. Those who are Gay and of a Sanguine Complexion, express themselves grace­fully and readily. In those Tempers the Animal Spirits move quick and equal, and their Imagination being clear, their Discourse being but a Co­py [Page 13] of the Images drawn in it, must ne­cessarily be clear and distinct.

V.
The Advantages of a good Memory.

THe goodness of the Memory de­pends upon Nature and Exer­cise, seeing it consists only in the easi­ness wherewith the prints of received Objects are renewed; by Consequence the Memory cannot be good, if the substance of the Brain be not proper to receive those draughts, or prints of things, and retain them; and when those prints (which cannot always be expanded and open) do not open them­selves with ease. Exercise adds much to the Memory; Things fold easily that way that they are often folded. The Fibers of the Brain do harden and grow stiff, if that stifness be not prevented by frequent folding them, that is to say, by often repea­ting what we have learned already, and continual endeavours to suck in [Page 14] more. We must fill our Memories with proper terms, and contrive that the Images of things and their names be of so strict coherence, that the ima­ges and expressions may present them­selves together. An excellent Person has resembled the Memory to a Prin­ting-Press; a Printer who has none but Gothick Characters, prints no­thing but in Gothick Characters, let the Treatise be never so good. The same may be said of those whose Me­mories are ful of nothing but improper words; having nothing in their minds but Gothick Molds, and their thoughts clothing themselves with Expressions from thence, no wonder if they always assume a Gothick aire and fashion.

VI.
Qualities of the Mind necessary to make a Man Eloquent.

WHat we have hitherto sayd, re­lates only to the Corporal Organs: The qualities of the Mind [Page 15] are more considerable and important. Reason must regulate the advantages of Nature, which are rather Defects than advantages when we understand not how to use them. He that has a fertile Imagination, but knows not how to cull and pick his Expressi­sions, looses himself, and runs out into long and tedious Discourses. Among the multitude of things that he deli­vers, half of them are improper; and those which are good, are stifled and incommoded by these that are imper­tinent. If his Imagination be hot as well as fertile, and he follows the mo­tion of his heat, he falls into thousands of other faults; his Discourse is no­thing but a continuation of Figures; he seldom speaks without passion, but for the most part without reason. Being hasty and hot, the least thing ex­cites him, and sets him on fire; with­out respect to Civility, without consi­dering the merits of the Cause, he fly's out into a fury, and suffers himself to be hurried away by the impetus of his Imagination, whose irregularity and extravagance is discovered in his words.

[Page 16] To enjoy the Soveraign Perfection of Eloquence, the mind must be ador­ned with these three Qualities: First, a capacity to discover abundantly all that may be said upon any proposed subject. A narrow Apprehension is incapable of giving things their just latitude and extent.

The second quality consists in a cer­tain sagacious Vivacity, that strikes immediately into things, rummages them to the bottom, and cleanses eve­ry corner: those whose minds are heavy and dull, do not penetrate into the Folds or Intricacies of an Affair, and therefore can only skum off what they find at the top.

The Third quality is exactness of Judgment, and that regulates both the other qualities. A good Judgment chooses and picks, it stops not at eve­ry thing presented by the Imaginati­on, but discerns and discriminates betwixt what is fit to be said, and what is fit to be pass'd: it dilates not upon things according to the bigness of their Images, but amplifies dis­course, or contracts it, as the thing and [Page 17] reason require; it relys not upon first Idea's, but judges whether things are as great as they appear, and selects convenient expressions according to the light of Reason rather than the re­port of Imagination, which like magni­fying Glasses do many times represent things greater than they are: It stops the Idea's where they are too light; it excites and chafes them when they are cold: in a word, it uses and im­proves many advantages that Nature has given it; it prevents Faults, and endeavours to correct them.

The good Qualities of the Mind are not always concomitant with the qua­lities of a good Imagination, and hap­py Memory; which causes a great difference betwixt Speaking and Wri­ting well. Oftentimes those who write well upon premeditation speak ill Ex tempore: To write well there is no need of a prompt, hot, and fertil Imagination. Unless our Wit be ve­ry bad indeed, upon serious Meditati­on we shall find what we ought, and what we might say upon any subject proposed; those who speak easily and [Page 18] without premeditation, receive that advantage from a certain fertility and fire in their Imagination, which fire is extinguished by repose and cold con­templation in a Study.

The Qualities of the Mind are pre­ferable to the qualities of the Body; the Eloquence of those endued with these last Qualities is like a flash of Gun-powder, gone in a moment; this Eloquence makes a great noise, and flashes for a time, but 'tis quickly spent and forgot. A Treatise compos'd with Judgment retains its Beauty, and the oftner it is read, the more it is admir'd. This is observ'd by Ta­citus in the Fourth Book of his An­nales, where he speaks of one Haleri­us a Famous Orator whilst he lived, but when dead, his Writings were not so much admired; his Talent lay in speaking well Ex tempore, not in Wri­ting, having more flame in his Ima­gination than judgment in his Mind. A work that is solid and elaborate (says Tacitus with reflection upon the Eloquence of Halerius) lives, and is esteemed after the death of the Au­thor; [Page 19] whereas the softness and flashi­ness of Halerius his Eloquence expi­pired with him. Quintus Halerius, Eloquentiae quoad vixit celebratae, monimenta ingenii ejus haud perinde retinentur. Scilicet impetu magis quam cura vigebat: utque meditatio alio­rum & labor, in posterum valescit, sic Halerii canorum illud, & profluens, cum ipso simul extinctum est.

VII.
Diversity of Inclinations alter the Styles: Every Climate, every Age, hath its Style.

DIscourse is the Character of the Mind; our Humour describes it self in our words, and every man incogitantly follows the style to which his disposition naturally carries him▪ We know not only the Humor of a man by his Style, but also his Coun­try: Every Clymat hath its style. The Asiaticks whose Imaginations are warm and full of Images, speak [Page 20] nothing but by Allegories, Similitudes, and Metaphors; by which means their Style is obscure to those whose Imaginations are not so lively and prompt. The Northern people have not that heat, and therefore speak more plain and intelligibly.

Antient Rhetoricians distinguish in­to three Forms the different Styles re­commended to the people by their different Inclinations. The first form is the Asiatick, high, pompous, and magnificent. The people of Asia have been always ambitious, their Discourse expresses their Humor; they are lovers of Luxury, and their words are accompanied with several vain Or­naments, that a severe Humour cannot approve. The second form of Style is the Attick: the Athenians were more regular in their Lives, and there­fore were more exact and modest in their Discourse. The Third is the Rhodian Stile; the Rhodians had a touch of the Ambition and Luxury of the Asiaticks, and the modesty of the Athenians; their style characte­rizes their Humour, and keeps a medi­um [Page 21] betwixt the liberty of the Asia­tick, and the reservedness and retenti­on of the Attick.

Diversity of Styles proceeds again from another Cause, that is to say, from the precogitancy or pre-occupation wherewith we speak or write; when we have taken a fancy to any way of Writing, we make it our model, and endeavour to imitate it. A Style a-la-mode is followed by the whole world; but as we change our Modes, and those who invented them, finding them common, contrive new, to distinguish themselves from the people, there is a perpetual change, and every Age has its peculiar Mode. A good Cri­tique guesses the time when an Au­thor writ, by observing his way: The Style of each Age gives us to under­stand the Inclinations of those who lived in that Age. Commonly the Style is dry, rugged, without Orna­ment in those Ages where the people were serious and regular. Luxury was introduced during the Licenti­ousness of Governments, in Languages as well as Habits, in Books as well as Buildings.

I.
The Matter of which we treat, ought to determine us in the choice of our S [...]yle.

THe Matter is to direct in the ele­ction of our Style. Noble Ex­pressions that render a Style Magnifi­cent; great words that fill up the mouth, represent things great, and ar­gue strength of judgment in the per­son who speaks in so sublime a way: But if the matter it self be unworthy, if it be great only in the Imagination of the Author, his Magnificence turns to his prejudice, and shows the weak­ness of his judgment, in putting a va­lue upon that is only worthy of Con­tempt. Figures, and Tropes, unknown to the natural order of Discourse, dis­cover likewise the motion of the heart; but that these Figures may be just, the [Page 23] passion, of which they are the chara­cter, ought to be reasonable. There is nothing comes nearer Folly, than to be transported without Cause; to put ones self into a heat for a thing that ought to be argued coolly; each Mo­tion has its Figures: Figures may en­rich and embellish a Style, but unless the Motion that causes them be lau­dable, the Figures cannot be worthy of Commendation.

I say then, 'tis the Matter that re­gulates the Style: When things are great, and cannot be considered with­out great Emotion, it is necessary that the Style which describes them be sprightly, full of motion, and inriched with Figures, and Tropes, and Meta­phors. If in the subject of which we treat there be nothing extraordinary: if we can consider it without passion; the Style is to be plain. The Art of Speaking having no peculiar matter, every thing subject to our thoughts being matter for Discourse, there are infinite diversity of Styles, as the sorts of things of which we may speak are infinite: Yet the Masters of that Art [Page 24] have reduced the peculiar matter for Writing under three kinds; Sublime, Mean, or Indifferent. There are three Kinds of Styles answerable to these three Kinds of Matters; the Lofty, the Plain, and the Moderate. Sometimes these Styles are called Characters, be­cause they denote the quality of the matter that is the subject of the dis­course. I shall in this Chapter hud­dle together the Rules to be observed in each of these three Characters. When a Work is undertaken, we al­ways propose a general Idea; for ex­ample, when an Orator makes a Pane­gyrick upon some Prince, the design is to magnifie and illustrate the acti­ons of that Hero, to advance him to such an Elevation of Glory, that he may be looked upon as the most ac­complished and most venerable person of his Sex. An Advocate pleading the cause of a Pauper, will be conten­ted if he perswades his Auditory that the person whose defence he has un­dertaken is a good man, an innocent man, and one that behaves himself in his sphear like a very good Citizen. [Page 25] That which I shall say of these three Characters, relates to our prudence in carrying on our Work, so as we ne­ver suffer the general Idea we have proposed to our selves to be out of sight.

II.
Rules for the Lofty Style.

APelles being to draw the Picture of his Friend Antigonus, who had lost his left eye in the Wars, drew him in Porfile with the half-face that had no deformity. We must imitate this Artifice: Let the subject of which we design to give a lofty Idea, be never so Noble, its Nobleness will never be seen, unless we have the skill to present it with the best of its faces: the best of things have their imperfe­ctions; and yet the least new blemish discovered in what we valued before, abates our esteem, and perhaps extin­guishes it quite. After we have spoke a thousand fine things, if among them [Page 26] all we shuffle in but one Expression that is mean or impertinent, some people (and those Wits) are so ill-natu­red as to regard nothing but that im­pertinence, and to forget the rest. We must likewise be careful not to say a­ny thing in one place that may con­tradict or interfere with what we have sayd in another. We have an Example of this Fault in Hesiod, who in his Poem called the Buckler, spea­king of Proserpine, says that she had a filthy humour running at her Nose: Longinus observes well, that Hesiod's design being to make her terrible, this Expression did not suit, but made her rather odious and contemptible.

We are likewise to imitate the ad­dress of another Painter no less fa­mous than Apelles, and that is Zeux­is, who being to represent Helen as fair in colours as the Greek Poets had done in their Verse, he took the natural touches of all the Beauties of the City, where he drew it, uniting in her Picture all the Graces that Nature had distributed in a great number of handsome Women. When a Poet is [Page 27] Master of his Subject, and can in­large or retrench as he pleases; if he designs a description (as for example of a Tempest) he is seriously to consi­der what happens in a Tempest, and to examine all the Circumstances that he may select and make use of what he thinks most extraordinary and sur­prizing.

Our Expressions ought to be No­ble, and able to give that lofty Idea which we design as the end of what we say. Though the matter be not equal in all its parts, yet we are to observe a certain Uniformity in our Style. In a Palace there are appartments for Inferior Officers, as well as those who are near the King; there are rooms of State, and there are Stables: the Sta­bles are not built with the Magnifi­cence of the rooms of State, and yet there is a suitableness and proportion betwixt them, and every part shows its relation to the whole. In a lofty Style, though the Expressions ought to correspond with the matter, yet we must speak of indifferent things with an Ayre above their condition, because [Page 29] our design being to give a high Idea of the thing, 'tis fit all that depend upon it should wear its Livery, and do it honour. An ambitious vain Wri­ter, to show the magnificence of his Style in all that he writes, foists in great and prodigious things, not consi­dering whether the invention of his Prodigies be consistent with reason: The Greeks call this vanity, [...]. Florus in his Abridgment of the Roman History, furnishes us with a considerable example of this Teratolo­gie. His business was to have told us, as Sextus Rufus has done, That the Roman Empire was extended as far as the Sea, by the Conquest which Decimus Brutus made of Spaine. Hispanias per decimum Brutum obti­nuimus, & usque ad Gades & Oceanum pervenimus. Florus goes higher, and tells us, Decimus Brutus aliquanto latius Gallaecos, atque omnes Gallae­ciae populos, formidatum (que) militibus flumen oblivionis, peregratoque victor Oceani littore, non prius signa con­vertit, quam cadentem in Maria solem, obrutumque aquis ignem, non [Page 30] sine quodam Sacrilegii metu & horro­re deprehendit, stuffing up his Nar­ration with Prodigies. He fancies that the Romans having carryed their Conquests to the farthest parts of Spaine, trembled at the sight of the Sea; as if they had thought them­selves criminal for beholding with presumptuous eyes the Sun when it was setting, and as it were quenching its flames in the waters of the Oce­an.

This Fault is called Inflation, be­cause the manner of speaking things in so incongruous and extravagant a way, is like the false corpulency of a dropical Man, who appears fat and in good-liking, when he is only puf­fed up with Water and Wind. This sublime Character is hard to attain; 'tis not every one can raise himself a­bove the common pitch, at least con­tinue his flight: It is easy to fly out into great expressions, but then if those great Expressions be not sustai­ned by greatness of matter, and replete with solid and serious things, they are but like Stilts that show the smalness [Page 31] and defect of the Party at the same time they exalt him.

By the Engine of a Phrase we may hoist up a trifle, and place it very high, but it quickly relapses, and by its elevation is exposed to their eyes, who perhaps would never have consi­dered it, had it remained in its pri­mitive obscurity. This vanity of ma­king every thing we mention seem great, of cloathing our discourse in Magnificent Language, makes it suspi­cious to persons of judgment, that the Author has a mind to conceal the meanness of his thoughts under the vain pretension of Grandeur. And Quintilian tells us, there are others who by the creeping humility of their Style affect to he thought Copious and Lofty.

Little People to shew themselves with advantage, delight to stand on tip-toe; those who write most weak­ly, use most Rhodomontades. This in­flation of Style, this affectation of Words that make a noise, are rather Arguments of Weakness than force. Quo quisque ingenio minus valet, hoc [Page 32] se magis attollere & dilatare conatur; & statura breves in digitos erigun­tur, & plura infirmi minantur; nam & tumidos, & corruptos, & tinnulos, & quocunque alio Cacozeliae genere pec­cantes, certum habeo, non virium sed infirmitatis vitio laborare.

III.
Of a plain simple Style.

THe Simple and Plain Character has its difficulties: 'tis true the choice of things is not so diffi­cult, because they ought to be common and ordinary: But the plain character is difficult, be­cause the greatness of things dazles and conceals the faults of a Writer. When we speak of things rare and ex­traordinary, we make use of Meta­phors, custom not affording us expres­sions of sufficient strength. Discourse may be inriched with figures; because we seldom hear of great things with­out sentiments of admiration, love, [Page 33] hatred, fear, or hope. On the contra­ry, when common and ordinary things are to be mention'd, we are constrai­ned to imploy proper and ordinary Terms. We have not liberty to use Figures in our Discourse, which cannot be forborn without difficulty: For, in a word, those who are Writers cannot be ignorant that the liberty of using Figures saves them the labour of stu­dying for proper words, which are not always at hand, and that it is ea­sier to speak by Figures than to speak Naturally▪

When I called this Character sim­ple, I intended not to signify by that Epithete, meaness of expression, that is never good, and always to be avoided. The matter of this Style has no eleva­tion; and yet it ought not to be vile and contemptible. It requires not the pomps and ornaments of Eloquence, nor to be dress'd up in magnificent Habits: But yet it abhors an abject way of Expression, and requires that its habits be cleanly and neat.

IV.
Of the Middle Style.

I Shall say little of this middle Cha­racter, because it is sufficient to know that it consists in a Mediocrity that ought to participate of the gran­deur of the sublime Character, and of the simplicity of the plain Character. Virgil has given us examples of all these three Characters; his Aenead's are in the sublime Character, where he speaks of nothing but Combats, Sieges, Wars, Princes, and Hero's: In them all is magnificent, both senti­ments and words. The grandeur of his Expression is suitable to the gran­deur of the Subject: Every thing in that Poem is extraordinary; he uses no terms profan'd by the custom of the Populace. When he is obliged to name common things, he does it by some Trope, or Circumlocution. For exam­ple, when he speaks of Bread, he ex­presses it by Ceres, who among the [Page 35] Pagans was the Goddess of Corn. The Character of his Eclogues is simple. They are Shepheards who speak and entertain themselves with Love, with Dialogues of their Sheep, and their Fields, after a plain simple manner suitable to the discouses of Shep­heards.

His Georgicks are of the middle Character: The matter of which they treat is not so sublime as the matter of his Aenead's, he speaks not there of Wars and Combats, and the establish­ment of the Roman Empire, which are the subject of his Aenead's; nor are his Georgicks so plain and simple as his Eclogues. In his Georgicks he searches into the most occult and re­mote Causes of Nature. He discovers the mysteries of the Roman Religion; he mingles them with Philosophy, Theology, and History, observing a Medium betwixt the Majesty of his Aenead's, and the simplicity of his Bucolicks.

I.
Of Styles proper to certain Matters; and qualities common to all Styles.

WE are now speaking of parti­cular Styles, peculiar to cer­tain matters, as the Styles of Poets, Orators, and Historians: But it is not amiss to premise certain Observa­tions relating to the Qualities that are common to all Styles. Among those who use the same Style, some are soft, others more strong: Some are gay, o­thers more severe. I shall show in what these Qualities consist, and how they may be attributed to a Style, when they are convenient to the qua­lity of the subject.

The first of these Qualities is easi­ness: a Style is said to be easy when things are delivered with such clear­ness and perspicuity, that the mind [Page 37] is put to no trouble to conceive them. Thus we say the declension of a Mountain is easy, when it is not hard to ascend. To give this easiness to a Style, we must leave nothing to the Reader's determination; we must pre­vent all doubts, and remove every thing that may perplex it. In a word, we must deliver things in their neces­sary latitude and extent, that they may be easily comprehended; for small things are not so visible to the eye. I have said in the precedent Book how cadence is to be sweetned, and pronun­ciation in discourse. The easiness of the number contributes strangely to the easiness of the Style. This easiness may have several degrees: The Style of an Author that writes with extra­ordinary ease, is sayd to be tender and delicate. I will not forget in this place that there is nothing contributes more to the softness and easiness of a Style, than the careful inserting in their due places all the Particulars necessary to make the consequence and connexion of the parts of discourse perceptible and plain.

[Page 38] The second Quality is Strength, and it is directly opposite to the first; it strikes the mind boldly, and forces attention. To render a Style strong, we must use short expressions that sig­nify much, and excite many Idea's. The Greek and Latin Authors are full of these strong expressions: They are more rare among the French, who choose rather to have their Discourse natural, free, and with some kind of diffusion; for which reason we are not to wonder that the French in their Translations of Greek and Latine Au­thors are more copious and verbose than the Originals, because they have not those short and compact Expressi­ons; the Genius of our Language choosing rather to explain and dis-in­tangle those Idea's which the Greek and Latin words leave abstruse and involved. St. Paul expressing his readiness to dye, says very nobly in Greek [...]. The La­tine Translation renders it, Ego enim jam delibor. To turn it into French, it must be done thus, Lar pour may, je suis comme une victime [Page 39] qui a deja recu l'aspersion pour etre sacrifice. For I am as a victim that has already received aspersion to be sacri­fic'd. All these words do but explain the Idea's given by the word [...], when we consider its force with necessary attention.

The Third quality renders a Style pleasant and florid. This Quality de­pends in part upon the first, and ought to be preceded by it; for the mind is not pleased with too strong an inten­tion. Tropes and figures are the flow­ers of a Style; Tropes give a sensible conception of the most abstracted thoughts; they are pleasant delinea­tions of what we desire to signifie. Figures awaken our attention, they warm and animate the Reader, which is pleasant: Motion is the principle of Life, and of Pleasure; coldness mor­tifies every thing. The last Quality is severe, it retrenches whatever is not absolutely necessary; it allows no­thing to pleasure; it admits of no Or­nament nor decoration, and like an old Arepagit, rejects in Discourse e­very thing that is sprightly; it bani­shes [Page 40] all things capable of intenerating the heart.

We are to endeavour that our Style have such qualities as are proper to the subject of which we treat. Vitru­vius that excellent Architect, who lived under Augustus observes, that in the structure of Temples they follow­ed that order that expressed the cha­racter of the Deity to whom the Tem­ple was dedicated. The Dorick, that is the most solid and plain order, was used in the Temple of Mars, Miner­va, and Hercules. The Temples of Venus, Flora, Proserpina, and the Nymphs, were built according to the Corinthian Order, which is sprucer and delicater, adorned with Garlands and Flowers, and all the Ornaments of Architecture. The Jonick was con­secrated to Diana, Juno, and other Deities, of whose Humor the rules of that Order gave a character, obliging the Builders to a Medium betwixt the solidity of the Dorick, and the Spruce­ness of the Corinthian Order. It is the same in Discourse: The Flowers and Ornaments of Rhetorick are not pro­per [Page 41] for grave and majestick Subjects. Austerity of style is unpleasing, when the matter is fitter for mirth.

II.
Wbat ought to be the Style of an Orator.

THose who have writ hitherto of the Art of Speaking, seem to have intended their Rules only for Ora­tors. Their precepts relate only to the Style of an Orator; and those who stu­dy that Art, do look upon the copi­ousness and richness of Expression so much admired in the Discourses of great Orators, as the chief and only Fruit of their Studies. 'Tis true, Elo­quence appears more illustrious in that Style, which obliges me to give it the first place.

Orations commonly are to clear up some obscure and controverted truth; and therefore they require a diffuse Style, because in those cases it is neces­sary to dissipate all the clouds and ob­scurities [Page 42] that obfuscate the truth; those who hear an Orator speak, are not so much concerned as he in the cause he defends: They are not always atten­tive, or their apprehension not being so quick, they conceive things with more trouble; so that an Orator is bound to repeat the same thing seve­ral wayes, that if the first be defective, the second or third may supply.

But this copiousness consists not in multitude of Epithetes, Words, and Expressions entirely synonimous. To evince a truth; to make it compre­hensible to the dullest and most di­stracted Wits, we must present it un­der several different Aspects, with this Order, that the last Expressions be al­ways more forcible than the first, and add something to our Discourse, in such manner that without being tedi­ous, we render that sensible and plain which we desire to inculcate. A skil­ful man accommodates to the capacity of his Auditors; he keeps close to his assertion, and quits it not till he has imprinted and fixed it in the mind of his Hearers.

[Page 43] Verities in Pleadings and Orations are not of the same nature with Ma­thematical truths. Mathematical Truths depend only on a few, and those infallible principles. The other truths depend upon multitudes of cir­cumstances, that separated signifie no­thing, and are of no conviction but when they are joyn'd and united. They are not to be amass'd but by art, and in this it is that the subtilty of an O­rator appears. They husband the least circumstance, and lay the stress of their argument upon little particularities, that perhaps another would have re­jected with disdain. Upon this score Cicero swells his Orations with cir­cumstances that seem useless and mean. Why does he tell us of Mi­lo's changing his shooes, of his put­ting on his Riding cloaths, of his de­parting late, and waiting for his Wife who was more tedious in her Dress according to the custom of Women. It is, that the simplicity and life of the picture which he would set before our eyes, without omission of the least stroke or circumstance of the action, [Page 44] might perswade the Judges that there was nothing visible in the conduct of Milo, that could make him reasonably suspected of meditating the murder of Clodius, as Milo's Enemies pretended.

Great Orators make use only of such expressions as put a value upon their arguments. They endeavour to dazle the eyes of the Understanding, and to that end fight with none but glittering arms. Custom not supply­ing them always with words proper to express their judgment of things, and to make them appear in their genuine grandeur, they betake them­selves to Tropes which are useful to give what Colour they desire to an a­ction; to make it appear greater, or less, laudable or contemptible, just or unjust, as the Metaphors they im­ploy are capable of exalting or deba­sing them. But they do often abuse this art, and make themselves ridicu­lous. We have no just right to dis­guise an action, to habit it as we please; to call a Venial fault a Crime, or a Crime an excusable fault. Crimes and faults give two different Idea's: [Page 45] If we do not use these terms with ex­actness, it implies want of Judgment, or want of Faith. A sober hearer re­spects principally the thing, and be­fore he suffers himself to be perswaded by words, he examines whether they be just. I cannot but admire those O­rators who fancy they have utterly overthrown their adversaries, when they have but droll'd upon their Ar­guments; they think they have clear­ly refuted them, when they have only loaded them with Injuries, turned their Reasons into Ridicule, and spent all the Figures of their Art to repre­sent them as contemptible as they de­sire.

We cannot defend a Truth well, if we do not interest our selves seriously in its defence. That discourse is faint and ineffectual that proceeds not from a heart zealously disposed to con­tend for the truth when it has under­taken its protection. We have shown in our Second Book that as Nature puts the members of the Body into postures proper for defence, or insult, in a single Duel; so the same Nature [Page 46] prompts us to Figures in our Dis­course, and that we give them such touches and circumstances as may ju­stifie the controverted truth, and re­fute all that is brought in opposition. Thus we see there is nothing so arti­ficial as the Harangue of an Orator, who espouses the Sentiments, and drives at nothing but the Interest of the person for whom he pleads.

IV.
What ought to be the Style of a Dogma­tical Assertion.

THe zeal we show in the defence of a Controverted truth, sets our thoughts on work, makes us look a­bout every way for Arms, and make use of all the Forces of Rhetorick to triumph upon our adversary. In Dog­matical points, where our Auditors are docible, and receive all as Ora­cles that we say, we have no occasion for that zeal and fervour: Particular­ly in Geometry, the Positions are cer­tain and evident; to propose them is sufficient, without Rhetorical Illustra­tion. [Page 49] It is not there as in the Law where the knowledg of truth is pleasing to one, and displeasing to a­nother, inriches the one, and impove­rishes the other. Who is he that will trouble himself to contest or defend a Proposition in Geometry? the Geo­metrician demonstrates that the three angles of a Triangle are equal to two right Angles: Whether this be true or false is indifferent, and no man will concern himself; for this Reason the Style of a Geometrician ought to be plain and naked, and free from those Ornaments that Passion inspires into an Orator. Besides, the clearer and more evident a truth is, the more are we disposed to express it in that man­ner.

When we treat of Natural or Mo­ral Philosophy, our Style is not to be so dry and barren, as when we write of Geometry; the truths discovered in them depend not always upon such simple principles. A man that applys himself eagerly to the solution of a Probleme in Geometry; to find out the Equation of Algebra, is strict and [Page 50] austere, and cannot endure words in­troduc'd only for Ornament. Natural and Moral Philosophy are not so knot­ty as to put the Reader into an ill hu­mor by studying them, and therefore the Style of those Sciences needs not be so severe. The truths discovered in prophane Sciences are barren, and of little importance. Passions are not just and reasonable, but when they provoke the mind to the discovery of some solid good, or the avoiding of some real evil: it is therefore a ridi­culous thing to express passion in the defence of an indifferent thing; to fly out into Transportations, and Rap­tures, and Figures, that discretion would reserve for more considerable occasions. I have not patience to see a man furious in defending the Repu­tation of Aristotle; to hear a man rail against another for not having so profound a Reverence for Cicero as himself; to exclaim and fall to work with his Figures against a poor Man that is perhaps mistaken in the de­scription of the Roman or Greek Ha­bits: And if you will have the truth, [Page 51] it is with little less aversion that I read the Works of some Divines, who han­dle the fundamental verities of our Religion as drily and slightly as if they were of no importance at all. It is a kind of Irreligion to be present at Divine Service, without some outward expression of love, respect, and vene­ration; we cannot communicate in an irreverent posture without sin. Those who profess Divinity, and would instruct others, must as much as in them lies imitate their great Master Christ Jesus, who convinc'd the understanding, wrought upon the will, and inflam'd the heart of his Disciples whilst he taught them. It was this divine fire that he kindled in their minds, that the Disciples ac­knowledged, Nonne cor erat ardens in nobis, dum nobiscum loqueretur in via? With what coldness do the grea­test Devots read the Writings of our Scholiasts? there is nothing in them that corresponds to the Majesty of their Matter: Their arguments are low and flat, and sufficient to depre­ciat the authority of the most authen­tick [Page 52] truths. Their expressions are rep­tile, their Style mean, without efficacy or vigoun. The holy Scripture is ma­jestick: The Writings of the Fathers are full of love and zeal for those truths that they teach. When the heart is on fire, the words that come from it must of necessity be ardent.

V.
[What ought to be the Style of a Poet.

A Poet is unconfin'd, we give him what liberty he pleases, and do not pin him up to the Laws of Cu­stom: This liberty is easily justified. Poets are desirous to delight and sur­prize us by things that are great, won­derful, extraordinary: they cannot arrive at their designed end, unless they maintain the grandeur of things by the grandeur of words. All that they say being extraordinary, their expressions being to equal the digni­ty of their matter, ought likewise to be extraordinary; for this cause in [Page 53] Poetry we say nothing without Hy­perboles and Metaphors, custom not being able to supply us with terms that are strong enough. A Poetical Discourse is figure all over. The dig­nity of the matter filling the Soul of a Poet with Raptures, Esteem, and Ad­miration, the course of his words cannot be equal; he is necessarily in­terrupted by floods of great mo­tions whereby his mind is agitated. So, when the subject of his Verse has nothing in it that can cause these com­motions and raptures (as in Eclogues and Comedies, and certain other verse whose matter is low:) his Style must be plain without Figures. It is the quality of great and extraordinary things that excuses a Poet, and autho­rizes him in his manner of speaking; for his matter being common, 'tis no more lawful for him than an Historian to decline common Expression. Ordi­narily we do not affect abstracted ve­rities that are not to be perceived but by the eyes of the mind. We are so accustomed to conceive only by the mediation of our senses, that we are [Page 54] not able to comprehend barely with our minds, unless what we would un­derstand be grounded and established upon some sensible experiment. Hence it is that abstracted Expressions are Enigma's to most people; and those only please which are sensible, and do form in the Imagination the picture of the thing that is to be conceived. Poets, whose great end is to please, do use only these latter Expressions; and for the same reason it is, that Me­taphors which (as we said before) make every thing so plain, are so fre­quent in their Style. This desire of striking effectually upon the sense, and making themselves easily understood, has prompted the Poets to make use of so many Fictions, and indue every thing they mentioned with body, soul, and shape.

When a Poet tells us, that Bellona Goddess of War put fear and terror into a whole Army, that the god Mars quickned the courage of the Souldier, these ways of expressing things gives a different impression upon our sense, from what we receive by the common way of Expression, The whole Army was terrified; the Souldier was incouraged. Every Virtue, every Pas­sion is a god among the Poets. Miner­va is Prudence: Fear, Choller, Envy are Furies. When these words are considered only with the Idea's that common custom has joyned to them, they make no great impression; but the Goddess of Choller cannot be re­presented with her eyes full of Fury, her hands bloody, her mouth brea­thing [Page 56] fire, her Serpents, her lighted Torches, &c. but it begets a trem­bling and horror. In the Divine Po­ems, and in those which were Sung before the Sanctuary, the Prophets made use of such ways of speaking to make themselves intelligible to the people. David makes us conceive how God had succoured and prote­cted him against his Enemies in as lively and emphatical a style as any of the profane Poets could have done. He represents God Almighty coming down in the Clouds to fight in his de­fence.

Poesy awakens, Prose lulls and disposes to sleep. The Narratives of a Poet are interrupted with Exclama­tions, Apostrophes, Digressions, and thousands of other Figures to allure attention. Poets regard things only in places where they are most capa­ble [Page 58] of charming, and mind nothing of them but their Grandeur or Rari­ty: They consider not any thing that may cool their admiration. By this means they seem to be beside them­selves; and giving way to the fire of their Imagination, they grow Enthusi­astick, and like the Sybil who being full of extraordinary Inspiration, spake not the common Language of Man­kind;

I.
The beauty of Discourse is an effect of an exact Observation of the Rules of Speaking.

AN antient Author has told us that Beauty is the flower of health. Flowers are the effect and declaration of the good condition of the Plant that produces them. Flou­rishes in discourse proceed in the same manner from the good Complexion, that is, from the justness and exact­ness of a discourse. The same thing admits of several Names according to the several faces by which it is repre­sented. When Beauty is considered in it self, it is the flower of health; but when it is considered with reference to those who do judg of that Beau­ty, we may then say, that true Beau­ty is that which pleases Ingenious [Page 60] men, who are they that judg of things most reasonably. It is a hard matter to determine what it is that pleases, and in what consists that Je ne scay quoy of delight that we feel in the reading a good Author. Neverthe­less upon reflexion we shall find the pleasure we conceive in a well-com­pos'd Discourse, proceeds only from the resemblance betwixt the Image form'd by the words in our mind, and the things whose Image they bear; so that it is either the truth that pleases, or the conformity betwixt the words and the things. That which is cal­led Great and Sublime, is nothing but that conformity in its perfection and excellence. Longinus in his Book of this Sublimity, has given us an exam­ple of a sublime expression taken out of the First Chapter of Genesis, where Moses speaking of the Creation, uses these words; And God said let there be light, and there was light; an ex­pression that gives a strong Idea of the power of God over his Creatures, which was the thing that Moses de­signed.

[Page 61] The greatness of an Expression being founded upon its perspicuity and force, it is no hard matter to deter­mine which are the true Ornaments of Discourse, and in what they con­sist. A discourse is beautiful when it is compos'd according to the Rules of Art; it is great when it is more than ordinary perspicuous; when there is not one equivocation; no sentence unintelligible; no expression ambi­guous; when it is well-disposed, and the mind of the Reader led directly to the end of the design, without the re­mora or impediment of impertinent words. Such clearness like a Torch dispells all obscurity, and makes eve­ry thing visible. We have shown al­ready in our Third Book, that when we range our words in such manner as their pronunciation is fluid and ea­sy, they make a delightful harmony to every Body that hears them: so we need no other Rules for speaking Or­nately, than the Rules already given for speaking justly.

Ornaments in Discourse, like Orna­ments of Nature, have this property, [Page 62] they are both pleasant and profitable. In Natural Beauty whatever is come­ly, is useful. In an Orchard where the Trees are planted in rows, or in squares, the disposition of them is pleasant and useful; because they are so set, that the Earth may communi­cate its juice equally to them all. Ar­bores in Ordinem, certaque intervalla redactae, placent; Quincunce nihil spe­ciosius est, sed id quoque prodest, ut suc­cum terrae aequaliter trahant. Pillars are the principal Ornaments of Buil­ding, their beauty is link'd so strait­ly with the solidity of the Work, that the Pillars cannot be pull'd down without destruction to the whole House. The Ornaments of a good Dis­course are also inseparable. Allusions and sporting with words; Figurative repetition of certain Syllables, and o­ther Ornaments not altogether Essen­tial, can give but small satisfaction to those who consider them with the eye of Reason: for in a word, it is truth only that satisfies a rational man; in Ornaments there is nothing of truth; they do rather perplex and Embarass, [Page 63] and render things more unconcei­vable than if our Discourse were sim­ple and natural.

II.
The false Idea that men have of Gran­deur, and their desire to speak no­thing but Great things is the Cause of ill Ornaments.

THere are but few men that exa­mine judiciously the things which present themselves. We suffer our selves to be taken with Appea­rances, because great things are rare, and extraordinary. Men do form to themselves such an Idea of Grandeur, that whatever carries an extraordina­ry aire, appears to them great. They put no value upon any thing that is common. They despise the manners of Speaking that are not natural, for no other reason but because they are not extraordinary. They affect big words, and bombast phrases, Sesqui­pedalia verba & ampullas. To dazle [Page 64] and amaze, we need only cloth our Propositions in strange and magnifi­cent Language. They consider not whether under that dress there be a­ny thing conceal'd that is effectually great and extraordinary. That which makes their stupidity the more re­markable is, that they admire what they do not understand, Mirantur quae non intelligunt; because obscurity has some appearance of Grandeur, sub­lime and exalted things being for the most part obscure and difficult.

Men having then so false an Idea of Grandeur, it is not to be admired if the Ornaments wherewith their works are adorn'd be false and numerous, be­cause as we have sayd before, they de­sire to speak nothing but what is great. But mens ambition carrying them beyond their pitch, they miscar­ry in their slight, and puff themselves up, till they crack with the too great quantity of wind. Copiousness is a mark of Grandeur; our impatience to appear copious, chokes up our thoughts with too great abundance of words. When men are pleas'd [Page 65] with a thing, they insist upon it too much, and repeat it over and over. Nesciunt quod bene cessit relinquere. They are like young Hounds that worrey their Prey, and are not easily got off. Every thing is to be allowed its natural dimension. A Statute whose parts are disproportionable, whose leggs are great, and arms small, whose body is large and head small, is mon­strous and irregular. The greatest art of Eloquence is to keep the hea­rers attentive, and hinder them from loosing the prospect of the end to which we would conduct them. But when we stop too long upon particu­lar parts, we are many times imploy'd so much upon them, that we forget the principal Subject. Copiousness therefore is not always good. Repleti­on and emptiness are both Causes of Disease.

Amongst Learned men those are most esteem'd who are best read. The difficulty of a Science advances its price; we have a value for those who understand the Arabian and Persian Languages; we never exa­mine [Page 66] whether by those Languages they have acquir'd any knowledg that is not to be found in other Authors; it is sufficient if the skilful in these Lan­guages understand that which is hard te be understood, and understood by few people. Our ambition to be thought Learned, and to intimate and ostentate our Erudition, causes that either in Speaking or Writing, we name continually our Authors, though their authority be necessary no farther than to show we have read them, and to make us pass for Learned men. This humor St. Austin reproaches to Julian, Quis haec audiat, & non ipso nominum, sectarum (que) conglobatarum strepitu terreatur, si est ineruditus, qualis est hominum multitudo, & exi­stimet te aliquem magnum, qui haec scire potueris? they heap Greek up­on Latin, and Hebrew upon Arabick. A trifle delivered in Greek is well e­nough receiv'd. An Italian phrase however apply'd in discourse, makes the Author pass for a polite, well-bred man. Were it not customary and com­mon, we should be as much frighted [Page 67] at this wild way of speaking, as at the discourse of a mad-man. This is a fault that disgraces a style, and hin­ders it from being natural and clear. If it be to add weight to our words, that we add the Names of our Au­thors, we ought to do it only when necessity requires us to make use of the authority and reputation of an Author. What need is there that we quote Euclid to prove that the whole is equal to all the parts: Or cite Phi­losophers to perswade the World that Winter is cold. I do not blame all these citations, on the contrary they are commendable, when the words are clear, and convenient to awaken the mind of the Reader by variety: It is only excess in this kind that is blameable. Those who have read much are to imitate the Bee, which di­gests what it has suck'd from the flowers, and turns all into Honey. Na­ture loves simplicity. It is the sign of distemper to have the skin marked w ^th spots of several colours. Too frequent sentences trouble also the uniformity of a style: By the word Sentence is [Page 68] understood those exalted and abstra­cted thoughts that are to be express'd in a concise way, and in few words; and these Sentences are called points. I speak not of those childish and false Sentences which have nothing in them but what is forced and unnatural. The best expressions plac'd too thick, do but perplex and incommode a Style, and render it rugged: and when they are separated from the rest of the discourse, the Style may be sayd to be rough and unpleasing. These ab­stracted thoughts are like patches sow'd together, which being of a dif­ferent colour from the rest of the stuff, make the Garment ridiculous, Curan­dum est ne sententiae emineant extra Corpus orationis expressae, sed intexto vestibus colore niteant. Some love to intersperse their discourses with these kind of Sentences, supposing they add reputation to the Wit of the Author: Facie ingenii blandiuntur.

The last fault into which they fall who are desirous to have the honour of doing something exactly, proceeds from an extraordinary endeavour to [Page 69] make their Works excellent. A man who writes with too much affectati­on, is not capable of perceiving the ob­scurity of his words. The darkest of them seem clear to him; he discovers easily all the Idea's that his Expressi­ons ought to awaken to be under­stood, because those Idea's are present to him. But it is not the same with those who read his Works, whose ima­ginations are not so hot, and who do not address themselves to penetrate the sense of his words with so great zeal and application as he who com­pos'd them. When a man expresses himself with pain, we labour with him, and in some measure we participate of his pain: If he expresses himself easily and naturally, so as every word seems to fall into its place without the trouble of picking them, that easiness is pleasant. The sight of a merry Man disposes us to mirth.

This facility appears in a Treatise, when we make use of natural expressi­ons, when we avoid those which are elaborate, and carry the sensible marks of Writing with pain. Not but that [Page 70] to furnish our selves with terms natu­ral and proper, we have need some­times of study and application: But this study, this application ought not to appear. Ludentis speciem dabit, & torquebitur. As much as we may, and the matter of which we treat will permit, we must give our discourse this latitude and liberty of Conversa­tion. Doubtless when a person in con­versation speaks easily and pleasant­ly, it goes far towards towards the putting us into the same humour; the pleasure we take in his discourse, ren­ders every thing easy that he says.

III.
Of Artificial Ornaments: Rules rela­ting to those Ornaments.

BEsides this natural Beauty which is the excellence and exactness of Discourse, we are obliged to take notice of certain Ornaments that we may call Artificial. It must be ac­knowledged that in the Works of the [Page 71] most judicious Authors, some things are to be found that might have been spared without injury to their dis­course, without perplexity to the sense, and without diminution to the strength of their style. They are in­troduc'd only for Imbellishment, and are of no other use but to detain the mind of the Reader, and make him the more willingly attentive. Many times when we have said all that is necessa­ry, we add something for Entertain­ment, and choose to express our selves by Metaphors or Hyperboles: Though perhaps custom affords us Terms proper enough to express our Con­ceptions, yet we think it better in Discourse to make use of Figures to prevent being tedious. When our Words and Expressions are well dis­pos'd, and may be conveniently pro­nounc'd, we go farther, we measure them, and give them such Cadence as may make them grateful to the ear. Nature sports her self sometimes in her own Works: all Plants do not bear fruit, some having nothing but flowers. We cannot therefore abso­lutely [Page 72] condemn these Ornaments that are inserted only for the diversion and entertainment of the Reader. They have their worth, but it is the right use of them that gives it. The fol­lowing Rules will not be unprofitable for our using this copiousness of Ex­pression with dexterity and Art. The first Rule to be observ'd in the distri­bution of Ornaments, is to apply them in their due time and place: Recreati­on is of Importance when we have been over-laden with business. When a subject is difficult, and that diffi­culty has perplex'd and troubled the Reader, we must have a care of such sporting with words as may increase his perplexity by diverting his thoughts before he comprehends. When we aim at nothing but convicti­on, diversion is unpleasant. Some things there are that admit of no Or­nament, such as these we call Dogma­tical.

When the subject of our Discourse is simple, all the rest ought to be so [Page 73] too. Pretious Stones, and extraordi­nary Ornaments, are used only in great Festivals, and upon extraordi­nary occasions.

The Second Rule requires that the Ornaments be just, and the Rules of Art exactly observed. Some people are so idle as not to concern them­selves for the impertinence or falsity of what they say, if it be spoken after the manner of a Sentence: If they can but hedg a Metaphor or other Figure into their Discourse, they regard not whether what they say be for or a­gainst them: If they can bring in an Antithesis, a Repetition, a Cadence that tickles the sense, they care not how vain it be, and unsatisfactory to Reason. But we must know no­thing is beautiful that is false; and if there be any thing that puts a value upon these fallacious Ornaments, it is because they dazle us by their false lustre, and deafen us by their in­significant Noise; or if I may speak my thoughts freely, it is because our judgments are defective. A Noble mind affects things and truth in dis­course [Page 74] rather than words. St. Austin tells us, Bonorum ingeniorum insignis est indoles, in verbis verum amare, non verba. I cannot value a Discourse that tickles my ear, unless the matter pleases my judgment. Nullo modo mihi sonat diserte, quod dicitur in­epte.

The Third Rule in these Artificial Ornaments is to consider first what is useful; to make choice of such terms and expressions as are capable of im­printing in the minds of our Audi­tors such thoughts and motions as we desire to give them. The first thing that takes up the thoughts of an Ar­chitect, is the raising of his walls, and erecting such strong Pillars as may support the Superstructure. If he has a mind to beautifie, he adorns his Pillars with Gutter-work, his Corni­shes with Frezes, and Flowers, and Me­topes, and Treglyphes, and other deco­rations wherewith his art supplies him. But this is to be observ'd, things of Ornament are never set up till the solid and substantial part of the buil­ding be finished.

[Page 75] The last Rule is, that we keep a just Moderation in our Ornaments; they must not be too frequent: The grea­test pleasures are the soonest gone: Omnis voluptas (says St. Austin) ha­bet finitimum fastidium. Nothing is more graceful than the eye, but he that should have more in his face than two, would be a Monster. Confu­sion of Ornaments hinders discourse from being clear: and it is as obser­vable as any thing I have hitherto sayd, that excess of Ornaments keeps the mind of the hearer from being in­tent upon the substance. This hap­pens very frequently in Panegyricks, where Orators are usually lavish of their Eloquence, and with full hands throw about the flowers of their Art. The hearer admires the Orator, but never thinks upon the person com­mended. We are in every thing to respect the design. When we would arrive happily at the end of our jour­ney, we choose the best way we can find; but it must be sure to conduct us thither. When leaves cover the Fruit, and hinder their ripening, we [Page 76] pull off those Leaves without conside­ring that we rob the Trees of such beautiful Ornnments.

For this Reason it is, that the Ho­ly Ghost which directed the Pens of the Apostles, suffered them not to make use of the Rhetorick and pom­pous Eloquence of profane Orators, which deludes the eye, and makes us consider rather the beauty of words, than the sense and reason of things. The Sacred Scriptures were nor writ to indulge our Vanity, but to edifie our Souls. Those who in Books re­quire nothing but idle diversion, do undervalue them; but he who loves Reason and Matter, shall find enough in the Holy Scriptures to delight and edify himself. One single Psalm of Davids is worth more than all the Odes of Pindar, Anacreon, and Ho­race. Demosthenes and Cicero are not to be compar'd to Isaiah. All the Works of Plato and Aristotle are not equivalent to one of St. Paul's Chap­ters. For in short, words being no­thing but sound, we ought not to pre­fer their harmony to the solid know­ledg [Page 77] of truth. For my own part I va­lue not the Art of Speaking, but as it contributes to the discovery of truth; as it forces it from the bottom of our thoughts where it lay conceal'd; as it disintangles it, and displays it to our eyes; and indeed this is the true cause that has incouraged me to write of this Art, as a thing not only useful, but necessary.

IV.
The former Table refuted, and the true Original of Languages declared.

IF that which Diodorus Sicu­lus has writ of the Original of Languages be true, what we have fan­cy'd of our new men forming a Lan­guage to themselves, would not be a Fable, but a true Story. That Author speaking of the opinion of the Greeks in relation to the beginning of the World, tells us, that after the Elements had taken their places in the Universe, and the Waters were run down into the Sea, the Earth being yet moist, was chafed by the heat of the Sun, became fruitful, and produced man [Page 78] and the rest of the Creatures. That these men being dispers'd up and down in several places, found by ex­perience that to defend themselves a­gainst the Beasts, it would be conve­nient to live together: That at first their words were confused and gross, which they polished afterwards, and established such terms as were judged necessary for the explanation of their thoughts; and that in time men be­ing born in several corners of the Earth, and by consequence divided into several Societies, of which every one had form'd to it self a distinct Language, it followed that all Nati­ons did not make use of the same Language.

These are the conjectures of the Greeks, who had no true knowledg of Antiquity: Plato reproaches it to them in one of his Dialogues, where he brings in Timaeus telling that the Egyptians commonly call'd the Greeks children, because they understood no more than Children, from whence they had their Original, or what pass'd in the world before they were born; [Page 79] so that we are not much to depend upon their Salvation. All the antient monuments of Antiquity bear wit­ness to the verity of what Moses relates in Genesis about the Crea­tion of the World, and the Ori­ginal of man-kind.. We understand from thence that God formed Adam the first of his Sex, and gave him a Language of which alone his Chil­dren made use till the building of the Tower of Bebel some time after the Deluge. The design of building that Tower, was to defend themselves against God himself: If ever he should punish the world with another De­luge, they hop'd by that Edifice to protect themselves against him; and they were so insolent in their Enter­prize, that God Almighty finding them obstinate, sent such Confusion into their Language and Words as disabled them from understanding one another; by which means their design was frustrated, and they forc'd to de­sist and separate into several Coun­tries.

The common Opinion concerning [Page 80] this Confusion is, that God did not so confound the Languages of these Undertakers, as to make so many se­veral Languages as there were men. It is believed only that after this Con­fusion, every Family made use of a particular Language; from whence it followed that the Families being di­vided, the men were distinguished as well by difference of Languages, as the places to which they retir'd. This Confusion consisted not alone in the Novelty of Words, but in the altera­tion, transposition, addition, or re­trenchment of several Letters which compos'd their familiar words before that Confusion. Hence it is that we easily deduce from the Hebrew Lan­guage (which is rationally presumed to be that which was spoken by A­dam, and used a long time afterwards) the Original of the antient Names of Towns, and Provinces, and their In­habitants, as has been prov'd by seve­ral Learned men, and particularly by Samuel Bochart in his Sacred Geo­graphy.

The use of words then did not come [Page 81] by chance; it was God who taught them at first, and from the first Lan­guage that he gave to Adam, all other Languages are deriv'd, that being afterwards divided and multiplyed as aforesaid. Yet this Confusion which God brought into the Languages of the Builders of the Tower of Babel, was not the sole Cause of the great di­versity and multiplicity of Languages. Those in use at this time in the world are much more numerous than the Fa­milies of the children of Noah, when they were separated, and much diffe­rent from their Languages. As in all other things, so in Languages, there are insensible alterations that in time makes them all appear quite other than what they were at first. It is not to be doubted but our present French is deriv'd from that which was spoken five hundred years since: and yet we can scarce understand what was spo­ken but two hundred years ago. It is not to be imagin'd that these alterati­ons happen'd only to the French Tongue. Quintilian tells us that the Language of the Romans in his time [Page 82] was so different from what it was at first, that the Priests could scarce un­derstand the old Hymns compos'd by their Primitive Priests to be Sung be­fore their Idols.

The inconstancy of man is a princi­pal cause of this alteration. His love to Novelty makes him contrive new words instead of the old, and intro­duce such ways of Pronunciation as in process of time changes entirely the old Language into new. So that those who are inquisitive after the Etymo­logy or Original of new Languages, to discover how they are deriv'd from the Antients, ought to consider what have been the different manners of pronunciation in different times, and how by those different manners the words have been so chang'd, that they appear quite different from what they were in their Original. For example, there is no great conformity betwixt Ecrire in French, and Scribere in Latin, betwixt Etabler, and Stabilire. In time it came to be the custom not to pronounce the Letter S after E at the beginning of a word, and then [Page 83] they writ Ecribere, Etabilere, and at length abbreviating farther, they came to write Ecrire, Etabler. Changes of this Nature have so disguiz'd the Latine words, that they have made a new Language. In all Languages it is the same with the French, which with the Spanish and Italian proceeds from the Latin. Latin comes from the Greek, Greek from Hebrew, as the Chaldee, and Syriack. It is the diffe­rent manners of Pronunciation that have caus'd the great difference at pre­sent in all Languages. We are much surpriz'd at first, when from an antient Language we can derive any word of a new Language: for example, a La­tin from an Hebrew word, if their difference be considerable. The sur­prize proceeds from this, that no no­tice is taken that the Latin word be­fore it received its present form, pass'd through several Countries and Condi­tions that altered it. These conditi­ons are the different manners with which it has been pronounc'd.

People have particular inclinations for particular Letters, and particular [Page 84] terminations; apprehending either by fancy or reason, that the pronunci­ation of these Letters; and those ter­minations is more easy, and accommo­date to their natural dispositions. This is particularly remarkable in the Greek Tongue; and is it, that has introduc'd in the common use of that Language, the particularities cal­led Dialects. The Atticks for Exam­ple instead of [...], put [...]. They add the Syllable [...] at the end of many of their words; they do frequently add [...] to the end of their Adverbs: They contract their words in opposition to the Jonians who lengthen them. The Doricks use the ae very often. The Aeo­lians use [...] before ( [...]), of two [...] they make two [...], they change the ( [...]) in­to [...]. It is the same with the Chaldee, in respect of the Hebrew. The Ita­lians, French, and Spanish have their peculiar Letters and terminations, as may be seen by their Grammars and Dictionaries. These peculiarities do manifestly change much of their Lan­guages, and create great difference be­twixt them; so that though they pro­ceed [Page 85] from the same Parents (if I may so say) they do not seem to be Sisters. For the French, Italian, and Spanish, seem to be deriv'd from several Lan­guages.

The changes and revolutions that happen to States, produce alteration in Languages, because in alteration of Governments several different People are united, from which mixture con­fusion of Language must necessarily follow. So our French Language is not deriv'd wholly from Latin, but compos'd of several words in use a­mong the antient Gauls and Ger­mans, with whom the Romans coha­bited in Gallia. The English Tongue has several French words, introduced upon occasion of the English remai­ning a long time in France, of which the greatest part was in their possessi­on. The Spaniards have several Ara­bick words derived to them from the Moors, under whose Dominion they were for some Centuries of Years. Terms of Art proceed commonly from the places where those Arts have been studied and improved. Whence it [Page 86] comes that the Greeks having labou­red most towards the cultivation of Sciences, the terms of the Liberal Arts are generally Greek. The Art of Navigation has been infinitely im­prov'd in the North, and therefore the terms of Navigation are generally in the language of the North.

Colonies have been a great means of the multiplication of Languages. It is manifest the Tyrians who traded formerly all over the world, have car­ryed their Language into most Coun­tries. At Carthage (a Colonie of the Tyrtans) they spoke the Language of the Phenicians, which was a Dialect of Hebrew, as may be prov'd by seve­ral Arguments, but particularly by the Verses in the Punick or Cartha­ginian Language, to be read in Plau­tus. But as we have sayd, Colonies multiply Languages, and make seve­ral out of one, because those who are remov'd into those Colonies, not un­derstanding well enough their own Language to preserve it without cor­ruption, are apt to participate of the Language to which they are remov'd; [Page 87] by which means they by degrees be­gin to speak both Languages, and frame a third of them both. It is no hard matter to trace out the Original of Languages, if we have any smat­tering of Antiquity; but my design suffers me not to enlarge upon this Subject. From what is sayd, it ap­pears clearly that Custom changes Languages, that custom makes them what they are, and exercises a Sove­raignty over them, that shall be evin­ced more amply in the following Chapter.