THE
REVIEW OF
COMMUNICATION
1 (2001): 171-173
© 2001 National
Communication Association
A Theory of Eloquence
Thomas R. Burkholder
James Perrin Warren. Culture
of Eloquence: Oratory and Reform in Antebellum America. University
Park: Penn State University Press, 1999. x + 202 pages. Index. $40.00.
James Perrin
Warren’s Culture of Eloquence begins, promisingly enough, with
Wendell Phillips’s address, “The Scholar in a Republic,” delivered
to the centennial anniversary gathering of Harvard University’s Phi
Beta Kappa chapter on June 30, 1881. “The innocuous title of his address,” Warren asserts,
“. . . conceals Phillips’s wide-ranging call for social change, a
call that in effect summarizes important theses from his fifty-year
career as a public speaker and reformer” (1).
Close analysis of the text illuminates the power of Phillips’s
appeal. Warren writes, “By figuring history as a opportunity for
moral struggle, and by figuring that struggle as a battle of words,
[Phillips] . . . calls for his audience to join in preaching the sermons
of agitation. The moral
force of the address resides in the jeremiad rhetoric of bravery and
cowardice, a rhetoric that seems to offer a stark choice but in effect
affords the audience none” (7). However,
Warren’s insightful textual analysis ends abruptly after six and
one-half pages when he shifts to an examination of Ralph Waldo
Emerson’s commentary on Phillips and on Phillips’s appearances
before the Concord Lyceum, and a discussion of the Lyceum movement
generally.
Equally promising is the list of eloquent
reformers who are the subjects of succeeding chapters—Emerson; Henry
David Thoreau; Elizabeth Peabody and Margaret Fuller; Frederick
Douglass; Walt Whitman; and William Gilmore Simms, writer, historian,
orator, and antebellum spokesperson for his native South Carolina and
the South generally. Anticipating
an extended treatment of the role of oratory in the nineteenth-century
pursuit of reform—the abolition movement and the prelude to war, woman
suffrage and women’s rights, and the like—readers might expect
Warren to turn his obvious analytical talents on the public rhetoric of
those towering historical figures.
That, indeed, was my expectation.
Unfortunately, that promise is also largely unfulfilled.
In short, at least for students of rhetoric and public address,
the subtitle of this book is disappointing because there is precious
little of either “oratory” or “reform” to be found in Culture
of Eloquence.
That is not to say this book is without merit.
In fact, the contrary is true.
Warren’s research is meticulous.
He draws on a stunning array of primary sources—journals,
notebooks, published and unpublished essays, lectures, letters—to
sketch a “theory of eloquence” for antebellum America.
For linguists and language theorists, Culture of Eloquence
offers a detailed account of what some of the leading literary minds of
the nineteenth century thought of the power and functions of language.
For scholars in English, especially, this historical account of
what the leading thinkers and writers of the time thought and wrote
about language should be of immense value.
Yet for scholars in rhetoric and public address, Culture
of Eloquence will probably be unsatisfying. Warren explains carefully what nineteenth-century literary
figures thought about the language of oratory and reform.
But that account remains largely on the theoretical level.
In other words, there is far more effort to explicate those
theories than to test or even illustrate them in oratorical practice.
One refreshing departure from that pattern is
Warren’s discussion of Frederick Douglass (chapter 5).
The difference, perhaps, is that unlike primarily literary
figures such as Emerson and Thoreau, Douglass was first and foremost an
orator. Indeed, Douglass
was “without doubt the most eloquent and effective black orator of the
nineteenth century,” according to Warren (122).
Thus, while others explain eloquence, Douglass enacts it.
Here, Warren’s considerable talent for close textual analysis
reveals the power of Douglass’s language in one of his most famous
orations, “The Claims of the Negro Ethnologically Considered.”
The analysis illustrates clearly the theory of eloquence Warren
constructed so carefully in earlier chapters.
Likewise, the treatment of William Gilmore Simms
(chapter 6), perhaps the least well known of the individuals discussed
in Culture of Eloquence, also departs from the theorizing mode. Warren’s account of Simms’s failed lecture tour of the
North in 1854 should be of interest to rhetorical historians. And his analysis of Simms’s speeches excoriating
Massachusetts Senator Charles Sumner following Sumner’s famous speech,
“The Crime Against Kansas,” demonstrates clearly that eloquence
served not only the cause of reform in antebellum America, but the cause
of reaction as well.
At first glance, the subtitle of Culture of
Eloquence seems to promise a rhetorical history of one of the most
tumultuous periods in U.S. history, a period that produced many of the
most eloquent reformers we have known.
In one sense it does that by providing a history of the theory
of eloquence for that time. But
that theory comes alive only when Warren departs the dusty pages of the
journals and notebooks of Emerson and Thoreau and turns instead to the
fiery orations of Douglass and Simms.
Thomas R. Burkholder is associate professor in
the Hank Greenspun School of Communication at the University of Nevada,
Las Vegas.