Rhetoric is most typically defined as "the art of persuasion". It is the third and crowning discipline of the foundational education curriculum of Classical Greece and Rome.
First, teach the boy grammar so that he can express himself coherently.
Next, train him in logic so that he can think clearly, reason soundly, dispute well, and expose false arguments.
Then furnish him in the art of rhetoric so that he may not only persuade the minds of his audience by his grammatically and logically sound reasoning, but move their hearts with his eloquence so that they willingly approve of that which he intends.
If you suffer from one of the common prejudices of our age, you may think that "rhetoric" is mere "verbiage" or "persiflage."
Yet, despise rhetoric as you may, you still clicked on the link in the rhetorically crafted email message that sent you to a sales letter that persuaded you to buy the product or sign up to the program, didn't you?
Or are you the only one who has never clicked on a Google Adwords ad?
Come on, be honest!
It is a conceit to suppose that you alone of all people are not moved by online advertising, which is the most persuasive form of contemporary rhetoric.
Persuasive rhetoric is most effective when it is felt more than noticed. You are drawn into the speaker (or copywriter's) world and are moved and persuaded by the word-picture that is painted therein.
What you disparage as "rhetoric" is merely specious argument overdressed in too many words, like lipstick on a pig, or a sow's ear masquerading as a silk purse, in short, an swinish and ineffective confusion of words.
If, instead of disparaging the art of rhetoric you mastered it, and manipulated it to your advantage, you would move the hearts and minds of your audience, mould them to your will and make them open their wallets at your bidding. The riches of Croesus would seem a paltry patrimony in comparison to the money you might make if only you mastered the art of rhetoric.
Clearly, rhetorical mastery can be a powerful and intoxicating skill, and as such has always been a cause of anxiety as well as admiration.
The Roman teacher of rhetoric, Quintilian, for example, writes that rhetorical training has failed if it does not form sound moral judgment in the student.
One of the keys to both "moral judgment" and rhetorical mastery is an ability to feel - or rather to express - empathy.
In our world, whereas "rhetoric" has a default "negative" connotation in common parlance, "empathy" is universally admired as a desireable trait.
Yet "empathy" can be one of the most viscious weapons in the arsenal of a bad actor well versed in the art of rhetoric. Iago, Shakespeare's supreme villain, is a master of empathy and yet is thoroughly immoral, and insincere (except in his viscious soliloquies).
But we are getting into deep and turbid waters.
Let us wade back upstream and swim into a shallower and more refreshing distributary...
Up until now I have talked about "rhetoric" as the "art of persuasion" in which the rhetorician takes himself and his purpose very seriously indeed.
In his world, his "sincerity" is demonstrated through his proof of his "ethos."
"Ethos" is the consistency of his good character over time, possibly even reaching back through the generations of his family:
"You should believe me because I am a good man as demonstrated by my education, my conduct, and that of my ancestors who, as you know, were also good men who have contributed to the wealth and glory of the republic since time immemorial &c..."
However, there is reverse side to the study of rhetoric which is inherent in the very nature of rhetoric itself, the sheer exuberance of the subject matter, the study of which becomes a means of amusement, the practice of which has no purpose other than pleasure, no end other than entertainment, no direction other than delight.
Rhetoric has no other purpose for the serious-minded than persuasion whereas playfulness for the non-serious is the only purpose of rhetoric.
In Elizabethan England during the 1580s, when Shakespeare was in his twenties and learning his craft, a non-serious form of rhetoric suddenly burst upon the scene and flourished thanks to the influence of a witty fellow called John Lyly who created a literary form known as "Euphuism" (you-foo-ism).
Lyly wrote tales full of witty sentences in which rhetorical play trumped the plot. The rhetoric has no persuasive purpose; it has no purpose other than to entertain or dazzle with its wit unless to dazzle be a witty form of persuasion.
The style became wildly fashionable among the court and educated circles. In those days the ladies of the court were admired for their ability to banter in the Euphistic mode. And banter it was, mere banter, with no serious intention except the display of wit if the display of wit can be considered a serious intention.
Here is a taste of the Euphuistic style for you to savour:
"It is virtue, yea virtue, gentlemen, that maketh gentlemen; that maketh the poor rich, the base-born noble, the subject a sovereign, the deformed beautiful, the sick whole, the weak strong, the most miserable most happy. There are two principal and peculiar gifts in the nature of man, knowledge and reason; the one commandeth, and the other obeyeth: these things neither the whirling wheel of fortune can change, neither the deceitful cavillings of worldlings separate, neither sickness abate, neither age abolish".
(Euphues, the Anatomy of Wit, by John Lyly)
A passage like that is best enjoyed by reading aloud and by appreciating the rhetorical flourishes, such as,
Euphuism had its moment, and by the time Shakespeare was writing his early comedies it was already on its way out. Shakespeare takes great delight in mocking the the style in one of his early comedies, Loves Labour's Lost.
Euphuism was both preceded and displaced by the ornate rhetorical style of Ciceronian rhetoric, which was in turn challenged by the terser aphoristic style of Seneca, mastered by Francis Bacon in his Essays.
One of the most famous speeches by a Shakespearean character, and one of the finest displays of persuasive public rhetoric (as opposed to the private one-to-one insinuations of Iago for example), is that of Anthony in Julius Caesar that begins,
Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears...
But that is another story for another time, if you, my friends will lend me your time and your eyes.
All the best,
David Hurley
