irruption of Hyder Ali could hardly be more vividly represented than they were by Burke in simply pointing to a single result. "When," he says, "the British armies traversed as they did the Carnatic for hundreds of miles in all directions, through the whole line of their march they did not see one man, not one woman, not one child, not one fourfooted beast of any description whatever."

CHAPTER IV.

OF THE EMPLOYMENT OF SYMPATHY IN EXCITATION.

§ 203. It is indispensable in excitation that the speaker himself appear to be affected in the same way in which he wishes his audience to be affected, and, likewise, to a degree at least as high.

This is a principle everywhere recognized. The lines of Horace are familiar to all :—

"Ut ridentibus arrident, ita flentibus adsunt
Humani vultus. Si vis me flere, dolendum est
Primum ipsi tibi."

Emotion is necessary in the speaker not only because the absence of it would render all efforts to excite feeling in the audience futile; but because, from the law of sympathy, emotion is communicated directly from one bosom to another. Shakespeare had a just conception of human nature when he put the following words into the lips of Antony:·

"Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes,

Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine,
Began to water."

In all pathetic discourse, the speaker must manifest the suitable kind and degree of feeling in all the possible modes of expressing it; in the form of the thought, the language, the voice, countenance, and gesture. To secure this, he must feel himself. Hypocritical expressions of feeling will seldom escape detection. The human breast instinctively discerns between true and false emotion. Even trained stage-actors, when they succeed perfectly in their art, are infected them

selves by the passion the contagion of which they wish to extend to the spectators. For the time they feel as if they were in reality the characters they personate. They accomplish this, perhaps the most difficult attainment of their art, by a close and thorough study of the causes of feeling supposed to operate in the scene which they represent. Mere natural sensibility, although not indispensable, is not enough. The heart, by close contemplation, must be brought into contact with the object of feeling. The speaker and the writer need equally to kindle the fire of feeling in themselves by long and close contemplation of the truth to be expressed in the discourse.

§ 204. The modes of expressing passion in discourse are direct or indirect.

In the direct exhibition of feeling the speaker allows the passion to appear in its own natural form and way.

§ 205. In the indirect expression of passion, the speaker, instead of giving vent to his emotions in the natural ways of expression, and making a free exhibition of them, veils them in part and only suffers occasional glimpses of them to be seen.

In this indirect expression of feeling, the power of imagination is called in aid, see § 202. The hearers observe, by the gleams through the disguise here and there, a fire of passion in glow; but obtaining no definite determination of the extent and degree, it appears to them the more deep and strong; as the outlines of objects seen in the mist being indeterminate, the imagination easily swells them into monsters. Such partial eruptions of passion are common in real life, and often impress more deeply than the pure and unsuppressed overflow of feeling. The mourner in public, observing the proprieties of conduct, who only allows a broken sob to escape her, moves the heart of sympathy more deeply than do even continued and unchecked wailings and

loud lamentations. The maniac duelist, who would break suddenly away from any pursuit he was engaged in, as if forced by some demon of passion, and, pacing off a certain distance on the floor, repeat the significant words, "One, two, three, fire; he's dead!" then wring his hands and turn abruptly to his former pursuits, gave a more touching exhibition of the deep agony which was ever preying on his spirit, than if he had vented it in constant howlings of remorse. It is with that admirable insight into Nature and conformity to truth which has before been noticed, that Shakespeare thus makes Antony give but occasional signs of grief for Cæsar's death. While generally the passion is suppressed, now and then it seems to force itself out; and this very circumstance, that it seems forced, makes it appear stronger and deeper. Thus he apologizes for any escape of sorrow, and tells the citizens that he cannot properly allow the true and adequate expression of his feelings.

"Bear with me ;

My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar;
And I must pause till it come back to me."

"O masters! if I were disposed to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,
Who, you all know, are honorable men:

I will not do them wrong; I rather choose

To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,
Than I will wrong such honorable men."

This partial disguising of passion on the part of the speaker has this further advantage, that the determination being left to the imagination of the hearer, it can never seem to the latter disproportionate either too weak or too

strong.

§ 206. The degree of feeling expressed by the speaker must ever be moderated in reference to the supposed feelings of the hearer.

Unless there may appear to the audience a probable cause

of strong feeling, as was the case in the first Oration of Cicero against Catiline, the speaker should commence with only a moderate degree of passion; and should suffer it to increase only in proportion as it may seem natural to the audience. He must of course ever keep in advance of them; but must take care never to get beyond the reach of their sympathy. The effect of this will be not only to annihilate the whole power of sympathy, but also to occasion dissatisfaction and disgust.