kind. He never loses sight, however, of the rhetorical application of his philosophy. He is still the practical, as well as the analytical philosopher, and practical in the truest and best sense. For the only solid basis for rhetoric, as for all those arts which have any thing to do with men, is a sound system of Anthropology. In connection with his analysis of each passion, he inquires, what persons are likely to be the subjects of it, and what objects or circumstances are fitted to excite it, that the orator may know when and how to raise or allay each several passion, as his interests may require. For the same purpose and in the same manner, he treats of the manners and habits which belong to different ages and conditions of men. And in conclusion, he deduces from these illustrations of human nature, places or topics of proof, which are alike applicable to all the several kinds of eloquence. After some remarks upon the use of Parables, Fables, and Sentences, (by which he means the opinions of wise and great men,) and after a chapter each on Sophistical Propositions and their refutation, the author passes to the third and last Book, which relates to the

Orator's Style and Manner.

Style and manner is manifestly quite a secondary affair in our author's estimation, and, as such, is treated in a brief and unsatisfactory way. He does indeed say, that of all the orators who appear in public, those only bear away the prize who are distinguished by a happy diction and a pleasing elocution. But he adds, that this results from the degeneracy and corruption of the age. And he manifestly feels that when the orator has brought forward satisfactory proof, that is enough, and nothing more ought to be required of him. Still he analyzes with profound skill, and illustrates with boundless

* I find it strange, says Lord Bacon, that Aristotle should have written divers volumes of Ethics, and never handled the affections, which is the principal subject thereof and yet in his Rhetoric he findeth a place for them, and handleth them well for the quantity.

learning, the several figures of speech, the difficult kinds of style, and the successive parts of a complete discourse, little as he made of this branch of rhetoric comparatively. Subsequent rhetoricians have been indebted to him for not a few of their best thoughts and illustrations on the subject of style. And the young writer or student of modern times would do well to give heed particularly to what he says of the chief excellences of style, as consisting in a transparent clearness and a happy adaptation to the subject of which the writer treats, or the end which he aims to accomplish.

But we have already exhibited enough of Aristotle's rhetoric, to show its leading characteristics. It places the art of rhetoric on its true basis-viz. a thorough and profound acquaintance with mankind. It presents a just and instructive analysis of the human intellect and the human heart. It bids the young orator look chiefly to the discipline of his mental powers, to the acquisition of valuable knowledge, and to the skilful use of those powers and acquisitions for success in the art of conviction and persuasion. It diverts his attention from mere words to things-from all that is showy and frivolous, to all that is solid and substantial. In making so much of proof and so little of every thing else, Aristotle is not so partial or defective as, at first sight, he might appear to be. For, by proof he means whatever is fitted to affect and move the whole man-man as he is, and not merely as he should be the particular men, whom the orator has occasion to address, whether governed by reason, or swayed by passion. Perhaps he ascribes too much to reasoning, and is too ready to suppose all men as purely intellectual as himself. Doubtless he attaches too little value to the cultivation of style and manner. But yet, if we must choose between the merely thoughtful and philosophical treatise before us, and the mere word-mills, figure-machines, and sentence-factories, that are too often dignified with the name of Rhetoric, give us Aristotle with all his faults.

The early Greek critics agree in ascribing to Aristotle's rhetoric the high honor of having formed the oratory of De

mosthenes-an oratory which was as thoughtful and manly, as argumentative and compact, as the Stagirite himself would have it, but which was as pregnant with passion, as it was with observation and reflection-an oratory, which had for its body logic and common sense, but which had also a soul, and that a soul of true Promethean fire. Cicero entertained the highest respect, not only for Aristotle's genius as a philosopher, but for his skill and discernment as a critic.' Quinctilian lauds him as if himself a pattern of the eloquence he teaches. Lord Bacon thinks Aristotle exceeded himself in his rhetoric, because the competition of the Sophists here drove him into the field of observation and practical life, where alone true wisdom is to be found, and where, after all, the real strength of the Stagirite lay. We pass now to

The Poetic.

But it is full of

Only a single Book of this remains. sound, valuable, and condensed matter. Like every other work of Aristotle, it goes to the bottom of things, strips off their forms and penetrates to their essential, living principles.

The essential principle of poetry consists in its being an imitation. It differs from history for instance, not in that the former is written in verse and the latter in prose; for the narrations of Herodotus would be a history though rendered into verse, while the Mimes of Sophron are poetry, though written in prose. On the other hand, Homer and Empedocles both wrote in verse; but the one is a poet, while the other is only a naturalist. But history is a reality; poetry an imitation. History relates to what has actually been done; poetry, what may or might be done. Poetry is, therefore, more instructive. than history; for history details particular facts, while poetry teaches general truths.

1 Quis omninm doctior? quis acutior? quis in rebus, vel inveniendis, vel judicandis, acrior Aristotele fuit? Cic de orat.

2 Quem dubito scientia rerum, an scriptorum copia, an eloquendi suavitate, an inventionum acumine, an varietate operum, clariorem putem.

The several kinds of poetry are all imitations. But they differ from each other in three respects: by using means of imitation different in kind, or by the difference of the things imitated, or by imitating in a different manner. The means

of imitation in poetry are language, harmony or music, and rhythm or movement. The dance imitates by rhythm alone; epic poetry, by language only, oftener verse, but sometimes prose; lyric, by language and harmony; dramatic, often by rhythm, language, and harmony combined.

The things imitated in poetry are the actions and characters of men. Tragedy represents its characters greater and better than they are in real life; comedy, worse than they are; epic poetry, sometimes better, sometimes worse, sometimes as they are, according to the genius of the poet.

As to the manner of imitation, it may be entirely by narration, as in lyric poetry; or entirely by representation, as in dramatic; or partly by narration and partly by representation, as in the Homeric Poems.

Poetry originates in and is based upon two principles in our nature-love of harmony and fondness for imitation. So strong is the latter principle, that things which we view with pain in themselves, we love to see represented as accurately as possible.

Homer may be regarded as the father of dramatic as well as epic poetry, since his works are full of dramatic representation; and the elements of comedy are found in the Margites, as the materials of tragedy are in the Iliad and Odyssey. The Dorians laid claim to the invention of dramatic poetry, and in proof referred to the words drama, tragedy, and comedy, which are all of Doric, not Attic, origin. But the Attics soon improved the drama and appropriated it almost exclusively to themselves.

Six parts enter into the nature and merits of a perfect tragedy the fable or plot, the manners or characters, the language, the sentiments, the apparatus of the theatre, and the music. The plot is the chief part; and the characters, the second in relative importance the former being, as it 2

THIRD SERIES, VOL. II. NO. I.

were, the soul, and the latter the coloring or complexion of the piece. Sentiment holds the third place, and its merit lies in being consonant with the plot and the characters.

A well-planned or well-plotted tragedy is an imitation of a perfect and entire action and one of suitable magnitude. An entire thing is that which has a beginning, a middle and an end. A beginning is that which need not be preceded, but must be followed by some other objects or events. An end is that which may not be followed but must be preceded by something else. A middle requires other circumstances, suitably related, both to precede and to follow it. Accordingly a good plot does not begin nor proceed nor end casually or disconnectedly.

Magnitude no less than symmetry is an essential element of beauty. No very small animal can be beautiful; for the view, being crowded into an almost imperceptible time as well as space, will be confused. Neither can a very large one be beautiful, for, as the whole view cannot be taken in at once, its unity and completeness cannot be seen. Suppose for instance, an animal 10,000 stadia in length! So the dramatic plot should be of such a length, that the connection of the story may be readily remembered, and that, by a natural and a probable succession of incidents, there may be a change of fortune from happiness to misery, or from misery to happiness. In fact a tragedy is seldom allowed to embrace the incidents of more than one day. The unity of a plot does not consist in its relating to one person only. There may be many actions of the same man, that have no important connection with each other; while on the other hand, the actions of several men may be so intimately connected, that they cannot be separated. The action, or combination of actions, must be one in such a sense, that no part can be altered or taken away without confusing or destroying the whole.

The Peripetia or catastrophe of a tragedy is an unexpected reverse of fortune arising naturally out of the incidents. As in the Oedipus Tyrannus, a person coming with the idea of consoling the prince and removing his apprehensions, produces