LECTURE XXVII.

COMPOSITION. ORDER.

IN returning to the pursuit of our inquiries concerning the science of rhetoric, after so long an interval as that, which has elapsed since I had last the pleasure of addressing you from this place, be necessary to remind you at what stage of our investigation we were arrested; as that must naturally be the goal, from which we are

it

may

now to start anew.

The branch of the science, upon which we had just engaged, was elocution; involving all the principles, which should govern the choice, the arrangement, and the decoration of the words, in which a public discourse must be clothed,

Elocution, you will recollect, in the language of the ancient rhetoricians consists of elegance, composition, and dignity. My two last lectures were devoted to the purpose of explaining to you what was intended by the elegance of rhetorical elocution, and in pointing out the means, by which it may most effectually be attained.

Having examined the general rules, upon which words are to be selected, the next object, which solicits our attention, is to ascertain how they are to be put together. The word composition is in Johnson's dictionary explained by twelve different significations, neither of which is equivalent precisely to the sense, in which we are here to receive it. But we shall find its meaning determined with sufficient accuracy in its etymology. Composition is merely the act of putting together; and when words are the subject matter, in reference to which the term is applied, we readily perceive why the consideration of composition immediately succeeds that of elegance. When the words are chosen, they must be put together.

The collocation of words was deemed by the Greek and Roman rhetoricians among the most important parts of the science. One of the most accomplished critics of antiquity, Dionysius of

Halicarnassus, has left a treatise upon the subject, equal in length to the whole three books of Aristotle's rhetoric. Cicero has been equally minute in his attention to it, in respect to his own language; nor has it been disregarded by Quinctilian. In the rhetorical writings of modern times, it has also been so largely discussed, that I may be excused from dilating upon it so extensively, as might otherwise have been expected. It will be difficult to descend from the broad outline of general principles to any particulars of detail, without repetitions of rules and examples already familiar to your minds. But as we are now embracing the nicest and most volatile particles of discourse, I must refer you, for a full mastery of all their refinements and delicacies, to the precepts of grammar and philology, which you have been taught ever since language has been a part of your studies; and, for your improvement, to that practice and experience, by which alone the highest perfection of all arts can be acquired.

In the composition or putting together of words to constitute discourse of any kind, there are three things inviting attention, by the ancient rhetoricians denominated order, juncture, and number. To which must be added, in treating

of oratorical discourse, that peculiar composition, and construction of sentences, which is known by the name of period. Of each of these I shall speak in turn; endeavouring as much as may be practicable to avoid encroachment - upon the province of grammar, to which a great part of the observations I am to make must however necessarily belong.

We are first to consider the order, in which words are to be placed upon the principles of ora torical composition.

We can suppose a given number of ideas, however complex, to exist in the mind of a speaker at one and the same instant; but they can be communicated only by a series of words; and if these words should all be collected and equally ready to issue from his lips, still they cannot come out simultaneously, but must be uttered in succession. The question then occurs, upon what principle shall the rank of precedency be settled between them? In some systematic order they must be pronounced; for if they were spoken at random, without regard to their arrangement, they would constitute mere nonsense, and convey no idea whatsover. Imagine the ideas and the articulate sounds, by which they are to be repre

sented, to exist independent of the grammatical rules, introduced in the course of time among the people speaking any particular language, and the order of utterance would follow the gradation of excitement in the speaker's mind; that is to say, he would pronounce first that word, which should constitute the most important part of his idea; and would proceed with the accessaries and collateral incidents according to their relative pressure upon his own imagination. This may be termed the natural order of speech.

But as languages are

formed, and the various relations and connexions, existing between the words essential to an idea, are perceived and reduced to permanent regulation, the words are distributed into general classes, the parts of speech are invented; the concords are settled into syntax; and an order of composition arises, founded upon grammar.

When the necessities of articulate speech are provided for, the progress of civilization and refinement fixes the attention of mankind upon objects of speculation and of luxury. By the first they are led to form a comparative scale of importance between the several parts of speech, as forming the materials of the language; and in the construction of sentences to arrange the words, not