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XVI. INTERROGATION.

Of all figures, this is the most overwhelming and rapid; but it should never be employed in unfolding the principles upon which a discourse is established; for it causes obscurity, and a species of declamation, offensive to persons of good taste. The success of interrogation is infallible, when properly employed. A memorable example of it occurs, when Tully, unable to express the lively indignation of his patriotic zeal, rushes abruptly upon Catiline, and instantly overwhelms him by the vehemence of his interrogations.

"How long, Oh Catiline, wilt thou abuse our patience? How long shall thy madness elude us? Whither will thy ungovernable audacity impel thee? Could neither the nightly garrison of the citadel, nor the watch of the city, nor the general consternation, nor the congress of all good men, nor this strongly fortified place where the Senate is held, nor the enraged countenances of those senators, deter thee from, thy impious designs? Dost thou not perceive that thy counsels are all discovered? Thinkest thou that there are any of us ignorant of thy transactions the past night, the place of rendezvous, thy collected associates?"

By using such language as this, the orator leaves not a moment's time for false or evasive replication, but paralyzes the accused, by irresistibly showing the extent and enormity of his guilt, thus rendered as apparent to the astonished auditor, as it is overwhelming to the trembling criminal. Dr. Blair says, "Interrogations are passionate figures. They are, indeed, on so many occasions, the native language of passion, that their use is extremely frequent and in ordinary conversation, when men are heated, they prevail as much as in the most sublime oratory, The unfigured literal use of interrogation is to ask a question; but when men are prompted by passion, whatever they would affirm, or deny, with great vehemence, they naturally put in the form of a question; expressing thereby the strongest confidence of the truth of their own sentiments, and appealing to

their hearers for the impossibility of the contrary. Thus, in scripture:

"God is not a man-that he should lie, neither the son of man that he should repent. Hath he said? and shall he not do it? or hath he spoken? and shall he not make it good ?"

Demosthenes addressing himself to the Athenians,

says,

"Tell me, will you still go about and ask one another, what news? What can be more astonishing news than this, that the man of Macedon makes war upon the Athenians, and disposes of the affairs of Greece? Is Philip dead? No, but he is sick. What signifies it to you whether he be dead or alive? For if anything happen to this Philip, you will immediately raise up another."

All this, delivered without interrogation, had been faint and ineffectual; but the warmth and eagerness, which this questioning method expresses, awaken the hearers, and strike them with much greater force."

XVII. ITERATION OR REPETITION
BY SOME CALLED ECHO.

Iteration serves to strengthen and enforce argument, and in many instances, produces great force and beauty. Iteration should be read or spoken in the same manner as the subject from which the repetition occurs.

Examples.

"As Cæsar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honor him; but as he was ambitious, I slew him."

"There are tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honor for his valor; and death for his ambition." JULIUS CAESAR.

"There still remains that which is even paramount to the law. That great tribunal which the wisdom of our ancestors raised in this country for the support of the people's rights-That tribunal which has made the law-That tribunal which has given me you to look at-That tribunal which is surrounded with a hedge as it were set about it-That tribunal which from age to age has been fighting for the liberties of the people, and without the aid of which

it would have been in vain for me to stand up before you, or to think of looking round for assistance."

ERSKINE FOR TOOK, ON TRIAL BY JURY.

"With thee conversing I forget all time,
All seasons, and their change; all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After soft showers, and sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild; then silent night
With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon,
And these, the gems of heaven, her starry train;
But neither breath of morn, when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun
On this delightful land: nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after show'rs,
Nor grateful evening mild; nor silent night,
With this her solemn bird; nor walk by moon,
Or glittering star light-without thee is sweet.”
MILTON'S PARADISE LOST.

XVIII. PERSONATION.

Personation is the representation by a single reader or speaker of the words, manner and actions of one person, or of many individuals, as if he or they were themselves reading or speaking; in effect "giving form to fancy, and embodying thought."

This power is capable of producing an effect nearly equal to scenic representation, in which each part is individually performed. Indeed, if the reader or reciter be adequate to the task, he may elicit an approbation far surpassing that received by the many, for he seems to concentrate all their powers within himself. The person so gifted must be a consummate reader or speak

er.

This figure is more materially connected with dramatic than any other style of composition, although it is sometimes resorted to in all oratorical subjects. It depends upon a perfect conception of the Author's meaning, a facility of imitation, and a variety of expression in voice and manner, which can only be acquired, even where the capability eminently exists, by much labor and continual practice.

In the exercise of this figure, especial care should be taken not to outrage the rule laid down by the greatest master and depicter of human nature that ever wrote upon its subject: i. e. "not to o'erstep the modesty of nature; for in the very torrent, tempest and, as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness; hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure."

Examples.

"Not far advanced was morning day,
When Marmion did his troop array,
To Surrey's camp to ride;

He had safe conduct for his band,
Beneath the royal seal and hand,
And Douglas gave a guide:

The ancient Earl, with stately grace,
Would Clara on her palfrey place,
And whisper'd in an under tone,

'Let the hawk stoop, his prey is flown.'
The train from out the castle drew,

But Marmion stopped to bid adieu:

· Though something I might plain,' he said,
"Of cold respect to stranger guest,
Sent hither by your king's behest,

While in Tantallon's towers I staid,
Part we in friendship from your land,
And, noble Earl, receive my hand.'
But Douglas round him drew his cloak,
Folded his arms and thus he spoke:
'My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still
Be open at my Sovereign's will,
To each one whom he lists, howe'er
Unmeet to be the owner's peer,
My castles are my king's alone,
From turret to foundation stone,
The hand of Douglas is his own;

And never shall in friendly grasp

The hand of such as Marmion clasp.'

Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire,

And shook his very frame for ire;
And This to me!' he said;

An t'were not for thy hoary beard,
Such hand as Marmion's had not spared

To cleave the Douglas' head!

And first, I tell thee, haughty peer,
He, who does England's message here,
Although the meanest of her state,
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate:
And, Douglas, more I tell thee here,
E'en in thy pitch of pride,

Here in thy hold, thy vassals near,
Nay, never look upon thy lord,
And lay thy hand upon thy sword,
I tell thee, thou'rt defied!
And if thou said'st I am not peer,
To any lord in Scotland here,
Lowland or Highland, far or near,

Lord Angus, thou hast lied!'

On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage

O'ercame the ashen hue of age:

Fierce he broke forth: And darest thou then

To beard the lion in his den,

The Douglas in his hall?

And hop'st thou hence unscathed to go?

No, by Saint Bryde of Bothwell, no!

Up drawbridge, grooms-what, Warder, ho!
Let the port cullis fall.'

Lord Marmion turned, well was his need,
And dashed the rowels in his steed,
Like arrow through the arch way sprung
The pond'rous grate behind him rung:
To pass there was such scanty room,
The bars, descending, razed his plume.
The steed along the drawbridge flies,
Just as it trembled on the rise;
Not lighter does the swallow skim
Along the smooth lake's level brim.

And when Lord Marmion reached his band,

He halts, and turns with clenched hand,

And shout of loud defiance pours,
And shook his gauntlet at the towers.

"My liege I did deny no prisoners,
But I remember, when the fight was done,
When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,
Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd,
Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reap'd,
Show'd like a stubble land at harvest home,
He was perfumed like a milliner;

And 'twixt his finger and his thumb, he held
A pouncet-box, which ever and anon
He gave his nose and took't away again;

SCOTT.