such occasions: follow me, sir, and you shall hear him." He followed him without answering.

The church was dimly lighted, except near the pulpit where the venerable La Roche was seated. His people were now lifting up their voices in a psalm to that Being whom their pastor had taught them ever to bless and to revere. La Roche sat, his figure bending gently forward, his eyes half-closed, lifted up in silent devotion. A lamp placed near him threw its light strong on his head, and marked the shadowy lines of age across the paleness of his brow thinly covered with gray hairs. The music ceased; La Roche sat for a moment, and nature wrung a few tears from him. His people were loud in their grief. The philosopher was not less affected than they. La Roche arose. "Father of mercies," said he, "forgive these tears; assist Thy servant to lift up his soul to Thee; to lift to Thee the souls of Thy people! My friends! it is good so to do: at all seasons it is good; but in the days of our distress, what a privilege it is! Well saith the sacred book, Trust in the Lord; at all times trust in the Lord.' When every other support fails us, when the fountains of worldly comfort are dried up, let us then seek those living waters which flow from the throne of God. 'Tis only from the belief of the goodness and wisdom of a Supreme Being that our calamities can be borne in that manner which becomes a man. Human wisdom is here of little use; for, in proportion as it bestows comfort, it represses feeling, without which we may cease to be hurt by calamity, but we shall also cease to enjoy happiness. I will not bid you be insensible, my friends! I cannot, I cannot, if I would"-(his tears flowed afresh)-"I feel too much myself, and I am not ashamed of my feelings; but therefore may I the more willingly be heard; therefore have I prayed God to give me strength to speak to you; to direct you to Him, not with empty words, but with these tears; not from speculation, but from experience, that while you see me suffer you may know also my consolation.

"You behold the mourner of his only child, the last earthly stay and blessing of his declining years! Such a child, too! It becomes not me to speak of her virtues; yet it is but gratitude to mention them, because they were exerted towards myself. Not many days ago, you saw her young, beautiful, virtuous, and happy. Ye who are parents will judge of my felicity then; ye will judge of my affliction now. But I look towards Him who struck me; I see the hand of a Father amidst the chastenings of my God. Oh, could I make you feel what it is to pour out the heart when it is pressed down with many sorrows; to pour it out with confidence to Him in whose hands are life and death, on whose power awaits all that the first enjoys, and in contemplation of whom disappears all that the last can inflict! For we are not as those who die without hope; we know that our Redeemer liveth; that we shall live with Him; with our friends, His servants, in that blessed land where sorrow is unknown, and happiness is endless as it is perfect.

DR GEORGE CAMPBELL.

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Go, then, mourn not for me; I have not lost my child. But a little while and we shall meet again, never to be separated. But

ye are also my children; would ye that I should not grieve without

comfort? So live as she lived, that when your death cometh it may be the death of the righteous, and your latter end like his."

Such was the exhortation of La Roche. His audience answered it with their tears. The good old man had dried up his at the altar of the Lord; his countenance had lost its sadness, and assumed the glow of faith and of hope. The philosopher followed him into his house. The inspiration of the pulpit was past. At sight of him, the scenes they had last met in rushed again on his mind. La Roche threw his arms round his neck, and watered it with his tears. The other was equally affected. They went together in silence into the parlour, where the evening service was wont to be performed. The curtains of the organ were open; La Roche started back at the sight. "Oh, my friend!" said he, and his tears burst forth again. The philosopher had now recollected himself. He stept forward and drew the curtains close. The old man wiped off his tears, and taking his friend's hand, "You see my weakness," said he ; "'tis the weakness of humanity; but my comfort is not therefore lost." "I heard you," said the other, "in the pulpit; I rejoice that such consolation is yours." "It is, my friend," said he, "and I trust I shall ever hold it fast. If there are any who doubt our faith, let them think of what importance religion is to calamity, and forbear to weaken its force; if they cannot restore our happiness, let them not take away the solace of our affliction."

The philosopher's heart was smitten; and I have heard him, long after, confess that there were moments when the remembrance overcame him, even to weakness; when, amidst all the pleasures of philosophical discovery and the pride of literary fame, he recalled to his mind the venerable figure of the good La Roche, and wished that he had never doubted.

XXIV. DR GEORGE CAMPBELL.

DR CAMPBELL, the ablest divine to whom Scotland gave birth during the third of our literary periods, was born in 1719. His ability procured him the appointment of Professor of Divinity in Marischal College, Aberdeen, to which was afterwards added the office of Principal of the same college. Scepticism was then making its boldest efforts, and Hume had endeavoured to deprive divines of one of the chief arguments for the faith, by showing that miracles were, by their own nature, placed beyond all possibility of proof, and that no evidence for the truth of Christianity could, in consequence, be founded on them. In reply to Hume, Campbell published his "Essay on Miracles," which is usually allowed to have been the soundest work that appeared on the Christian side of the question; and its ability was indeed admitted by Hume himself. He wrote also the

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Philosophy of Rhetoric," a work which, on everything relating to the style and composition of any oratorical performance, is not surpassed by anything in our language. All subsequent treatises on the subject have been so much indebted to Campbell, that their works may more properly be considered as abridgments or modifications of his than as original productions. He was also the author of an able translation of the "Four Gospels," and of "Lectures on Ecclesiastical History," which were published posthumously. His services to religion were rewarded with a pension in 1795; but he did not long enjoy it, as he died the next year.

1. NECESSITY OF APPEALING TO THE PASSIONS IN ORDER TO EFFECT PERSUASION." PHILOSOPHY OF RHETORIC," BOOK I., CHAP. VII., LECT. IV.)

When persuasion is the end, passion also must be engaged. If it is fancy which bestows brilliancy on our ideas, if it is memory which gives them stability, passion doth more,-it animates them. Hence they derive spirit and energy. To say that it is possible to persuade without speaking to the passions, is but at best a kind of specious nonsense. The coolest reasoner always, in persuading, addresseth himself to the passions some way or other. This he cannot avoid doing, if he speak to the purpose. To make me believe, it is enough to show me that things are so; to make me act, it is necessary to show that the action will answer some end. That can never be an end to me which gratifies no passion or affection in my nature. You assure me "it is for my honour." Now you solicit my pride, without which I had never been able to understand the word. You say "it is for my interest." Now you bespeak my self-love. "It is for the public good." Now you rouse my patriotism. "It will relieve the miserable." Now you touch my pity. So far, therefore, it is from being an unfair method of persuasion to move the passions, that there is no persuasion without moving them.

But if so much depend on passion, where is the scope for argument? Before I answer this question, let it be observed that, in order to persuade, there are two things which must be carefully studied by the orator. The first is, to excite some desire or passion in the hearers; the second is, to satisfy their judgment that there is a connection between the action to which he would persuade them, and the gratification of the desire or passion which he excites. This is the analysis of persuasion. The former is effected by communicating lively and glowing ideas of the object; the latter, unless so evident of itself as to supersede the necessity, by presenting the best and most forcible arguments which the nature of the subject admits. In the one lies the pathetic; in the other the argumentative. These, incorporated together, constitute that vehemence of contention to which the greatest exploits of eloquence ought doubtless to be ascribed. Here, then, is the principal scope for argument; but not the only scope, as will appear in the sequel.

NECESSITY OF APPEALING TO THE PASSIONS, ETC.

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When the first end alone is attained, the pathetic without the rational, the passions are indeed roused from a disagreeable languor by the help of the imagination, and the mind is thrown into a state which, though accompanied with some painful emotions, rarely fails, upon the whole, to affect it with pleasure. But if the hearers are judicious, no practical effect is produced. They cannot, by such declamation, be influenced to a particular action, because not convinced that that action will conduce to the gratifying of the passion raised. Your eloquence hath fired my ambition, and makes me burn with public zeal. The consequence is, there is nothing which at present I would not attempt for the sake of fame and the interest of my country. You advise me to such a conduct; but you have not shown me how that can contribute to gratify either passion. Satisfy me in this, and I am instantly at your command. Indeed, when the hearers are rude and ignorant, nothing more is necessary in the speaker than to inflame their passions. They will not require that the connection between the conduct he urges and the end proposed be evinced to them; his word will satisfy; and therefore bold affirmations are made to supply the place of reasons. Hence it is that the rabble are ever the prey of quacks and impudent pretenders of every denomination.

On the contrary, when the other end alone is attained, the rational without the pathetic, the speaker is as far from his purpose as before. You have proved beyond contradiction, that acting thus is the sure way to procure such an object. I perceive that your reasoning is conclusive; but I am not affected by it. Why? I have no passion for the object. I am indifferent whether I procure it or not. You have demonstrated that such a step will mortify my enemy. I believe it; but I have no resentment, and will not trouble myself to give pain to another. Your arguments evince that it would gratify my vanity; but I prefer my ease. passion is the mover to action, reason the guide. Good is the object of the will, truth is the object of the understanding.

Thus

It may be thought that when the motive is the equity, the generosity, or the intrinsic merit of the action recommended, argument may be employed to evince the reasonableness of the end, as well as the fitness of the means. But this way of speaking suits better the popular dialect than the philosophical. The term "reasonableness," when used in this manner, means nothing but the goodness, the amiableness, or moral excellency. If, therefore, the hearer hath no love of justice, no benevolence, no regard to right, although he were endowed with the perspicacity of a cherub, your harangue could never have any influence on his mind. The reason is, when you speak of the fitness of the means, you address yourself only to the head; when you speak of the goodness of the end, you address yourself to the heart, of which we supposed him destitute.

2. AFFECTED METHODS OF SPELLING.-(" RHETORIC," BOOK II.,

CHAP. III.)

Some late writers have chosen to make alterations on proper names, and some other words of foreign extraction, on pretence of bringing them nearer, both in pronunciation and in spelling, to the original names, as they appear in the language from which those words were taken. In order to answer this important purpose, several terms which have maintained their place in our tongue for many centuries, and which are known to everybody, must be expelled, that room may be made for a set of uncouth and barbarous sounds, with which our ears are unacquainted, and to some of which it is impossible for us so to adapt our organs, accustomed only to English, as rightly to articulate them.

It hath been the invariable custom of all nations, as far as I know: it was particularly the customs of the Grecians and Romans, when they introduced a foreign name into their language, to make such alterations on it as would facilitate the pronunciation to their own people, and render it more analogous to the other words of their tongue. There is an evident convenience in this practice; but where the harm of it is I am not able to discover. No more can I divine what good reason can be alleged for proscribing the name Zoroaster, till of late universally adopted by English authors who had occasion to mention that Eastern sage, and the same, except in termination, that is used in Greek and Latin classics. Is Zerdusht, which those people would substitute in its place, a more musical word? Or is it of any consequence to us that it is nearer the Persian original? Will this sound give us a deeper insight than the other into the character, the philosophy, and the history of the man? On the same principles we are commanded by these refiners to banish Confucius for the sake of Con-fut-cee; and never again, on pain of the charge of gross ignorance, to mention Mahomet, Mahometan, Mahometism, since Mohammed, Mohammedan, Mohammedism, are ready to supply their room. Mussulman must give place to Moslem, hegira to hejra, and Alcoran to Koran. The dervis, too, is turned a dirvesh, and the bashaw is transformed into a pacha.

But why do our modern reformers stop here? Ought not this reformation, if good for anything, to be rendered more extensively useful? How much more edifying would Holy Writ prove to readers of every capacity if, instead of those vulgar corruptions Jacob and Judah, and Moses and Elijah, we had the satisfaction to find in our Bibles, as some assure us that the words ought to be pronounced, Yaguhakob and Yehudah, and Moscheh and Eliyahu? A reform of this kind was indeed, for the benefit of the learned, attempted abroad more than two centuries ago, by a kindred genius of those modern English critics, one Pagninus a Dominican friar. In a translation which this man made of the Scriptures, into a sort