A Discourse Being Introductory to his Course of Lectures on Elocution and the English Language (1759) — Context and Discussion

The Living Language Paradox

Sheridan builds his case on a paradox: English, though widely spoken, is treated as a secondary language in education. He notes that 'the rudiments of English are now taught by low and ignorant masters, for wretched stipends,' while Latin remains the chief language of schools. The result, he argues, is a generation that can parse Latin grammar but cannot speak their native tongue with grace. He points to 'numbers who understand Latin well, who do not understand their native tongue' as evidence of this systemic failure.

His critique extends to the consequences: when public speaking gives 'pain rather than pleasure' and 'occasions satiety,' listeners turn to written language, preferring 'the invention of man, to the gift of God.' This rhetorical move elevates elocution from a practical skill to a near-spiritual necessity, framing neglect as a loss of divine capacity.

Custom as Fortress

Sheridan employs a striking military metaphor to describe the grip of educational tradition. Custom, he writes, is a 'fortress' surrounded by 'impregnable bulwarks' that cannot be taken by storm. Reason alone cannot overthrow it; 'custom alone can succeed to custom.' The only path to reform is gradual, sapping the foundations rather than assaulting the walls.

This metaphor reveals Sheridan's strategic pragmatism. He does not call for revolution but for a new custom to be elected under reason's guidance. The passage is notable for its vivid imagery and its implicit acknowledgment that his audience, steeped in classical education, must be persuaded to change habits, not just ideas.

The Missionary Tone

Throughout the discourse, Sheridan adopts what the editor G. P. Mohrmann calls a 'missionary zeal.' He presents elocution not merely as an academic subject but as a cause that can revitalize public life. His language is urgent: he speaks of 'fatal consequences' and warns that without reform, 'the noblest ends, and highest delights which language can answer or afford, will be frustrated and lost.'

This fervor is tempered by his reliance on reason and evidence. He cites observable facts—the scarcity of good speakers, the army of writers—to support his claims. Yet his tone remains that of a reformer convinced of the rightness of his vision, a quality that animates the lecture and gives it a persuasive force beyond its theoretical content.

Reading Sheridan's Rhetoric

First-time readers should attend to Sheridan's structural choices. He opens with a problem (neglect of English), diagnoses its causes (custom, Latin-centric education), and proposes a solution (systematic elocution instruction). His arguments are built on contrasts: living vs. dead language, speech vs. writing, reason vs. custom.

Notice how he uses rhetorical questions—'Is not this the case at this day?'—to engage his audience directly. His metaphors, such as the fortress of custom, are carefully chosen to make abstract arguments concrete. The lecture is as much a performance of elocutionary principles as a treatise on them; Sheridan's own delivery would have demonstrated the very skills he advocates.

Sheridan's discourse is best approached as a period piece that reveals the anxieties and aspirations of eighteenth-century language reform. Readers interested in the history of education, rhetoric, or the English language will find a passionate argument for the spoken word. The lecture's brevity (under 20,000 words) makes it an accessible entry into elocutionary theory, but its real value lies in observing how a reformer constructs his case—through vivid metaphor, pointed contrast, and an unshakeable belief in the power of speech.