in which they were minutely infifted on, may contribute very confiderably to the fuccefs of an oration. They are hereby seen in their most favourable light, and exposed to view no longer than they will bear it.

Thus Demofthenes, in recounting the victories of Philip, fays, "I fay nothing of his expeditions against the Illyrians, and "Pannonians, against Arymbas, and others, with which every "body is acquainted." Thus alfo Cicero, in one of his invectives, "I do not mention my adversary's fcandalous gluttony and "drunkenness, I take no notice of his brutal lufts, I fay not a "fyllable of his treachery, malice, and cruelty." And, in his defence of Sextius, "I might fay many things of his liberality, "kindness to his domeftics, his command in the army, and mo"deration during his office in the province; but the honour of "the state presents itself to my view, and, calling me to it, ad"vifes me to omit thefe leffer matters."

When an orator speaks of himself, this flight mention or pretended omiffion of many particulars hath another advantage, that it carries the appearance of modefty, and on that account contributes not a little to recommend the speaker to the favourable opinion of his audience.

This flight mention of circumstances hath an uncommonly-fine effect when, out of a delicacy of fentiment, and a tenderness to those he is addreffing, a perfon declines infifting upon what are, in reality, his strongest arguments. Was it poffible for Philemon to infist upon Onefimus's paying what he owed him, after reading the following delicate and moving paffage in Saint Paul's letter to him. "If he hath wronged thee, or oweth thee ought, "put that to mine account. I Paul have written it with mine

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own hand, I will repay it. it.

Albeit I do not say to thee, how
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"thou

"thou oweft unto me, even thine own felf befides." Phil.

xviii. 19.

The fame Saint Paul, speaking of himself and the churches of his planting, hath the following exquifite paffage, in his epistle to the Corinthians, who had listened to fome unfavourable accounts of him. "In nothing am I behind the very chiefeft.

apostles, though I be nothing. Truly the signs of an apoftle "were wrought among you, in all patience, in figns and won"ders, and mighty deeds. For what is it wherein ye were in"ferior to other churches, except it be that I myself was not "burdenfome to you? Forgive me this wrong." 1 Cor. xii. 11,

12, 13.

It is easy to conceive how, upon many occasions, it may be of advantage not to fay, or at least to seem not to say, all we might upon a fubject, but leave part to be fupplied by the hearer or reader. This employs his faculties, and fets his imagination ftrongly and effectually at work. When an orator expreffes himfelf in fuch a manner as to make his hearers believe he could fay more, and when his known fituation makes it probable that he might have fufficient reason for pushing his argument no farther than he doth (as when a perfon fpeaks or writes in defence of new and obnoxious opinions) in this cafe, the imagination of the hearer will never suggest too little. That fuppression, joined with our concern to fee a perfon, of whom we have conceived a favourable opinion, in a fituation which obliges him to conceal the truth, inflames the paffions more than any thing that could have been faid, though ever fo convincing and fatisfactory, upon the fubject.

The circumstances in which Marc Antony delivered Cæfar's funeral oration, were peculiarly favourable to his views of excit

ing compaffion and refentment. Broken hints and filence would have a greater effect in his fituation, than speaking openly could have had in any other. For the fame reason it would, no doubt, be for the advantage of christianity, if unbelievers had nothing to fear from propofing all their objections to it in the moft open and public manner. In our prefent circumftances, infidelity is often fuccessfully propagated by infinuations, obfcure hints, and affected fneers; whereas, if all pretence for these artifices were cut off, by an unrestrained indulgence of free inquiry and debate, no other method could be found by which it could be fo conveniently propagated. In common life, is it not well known that scandal is always moft effectually propagated by hints and whispers?

Let it, however, be remembered, as a caution against the improper ufe of this method of promoting any cause, that filence is ridiculous when no reason can be imagined, either from fear, modefty, tenderness, or any other caufe, why a person should not speak out.

Laftly, nothing more effectually conduces to gain belief, than the appearance of candour and impartiality in the orator, and his willingness to be convinced if he have fallen into an error. An opinion maintained with so much modefty, by a person so diffident of his own judgment, and who appears to have no motive to bias him in favour of falfehood, is fure to be attended to without prejudice. We cannot help fympathizing with such a speaker, and affuming his impartiality and candid difpofition.

We show our candour when we appear to be in doubt, and difcufs our own doubts; when we freely allow as much weight as poffible to the objections of our adverfaries; and particularly when we frankly retract what we acknowledge we had too hastily advanced;

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advanced; alfo when, feeming to forget our own particular fituation, as advocates for one fide of a queftion, we confult with our hearers, our judge, or our adverfaries, as if persons on all fides were equally impartial, and intent upon finding out the truth. This is paying a compliment to our audience, and to our adverfaries, which is generally returned with advantage. A decifion of a question, after such a candid and impartial difcuffion, hath the appearance of being the unanimous determination of all parties. It is no longer one party only that we are attending to, but we almost fancy fuch a candid opinion to be the result of the confultation of all perfons concerned.

In this case, the determination should be indeed impartial, and what every person, who hears it, will think it right that all parties fhould adopt.

We have a fine picture of doubt in Cicero's defence of Cluentius. "I know not which way to turn myself," &c.; and a good example of an impartial and fair appeal to an adversary, in his accufation of Verres, "Now I defire your opinion," &c.; and again, in his defence of Rabirius, "What could "What could you have done "in fuch a cafe ?" &c.

LECTURE

LECTURE XVII.

Of the PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION in general, and of the Standard of GOOD TASTE.

H

AVING confidered a variety of the most important circumstances relating to the ftronger passions and emotions, the knowledge of which more eminently contributes to form a critic in works of taste and genius, and alfo those forms of addrefs which are peculiarly adapted to gain affent; I come in the third place, according to the method I propofed, to enumerate those finer feelings which constitute the pleasures of the imagination, in order to ascertain the nature and kind of thofe refined pleasures but, previous to this, I fhall make a few general obfervations relating to the whole of this part of our fubject.

The first circumstance I shall take notice of with regard to those exquifite feelings is, that the only inlets to them are, as Lord Kaims observes, the eye and the ear, and that the other senses have nothing to do with them. Colours and founds, it is remarkable, are tranfmitted to the mind, or fenforium, without any fenfible intervention of the corporeal organs by which they are transmitted. The eye and the ear, when they are in a found and healthy ftate, are fo little affected by the impreffion of light, and the vibrations of the air, that were it not for internal evidence, we should not know that we had any fuch organs.

We