I would like to begin concretely, and the measure of my success in this paper will be the reader's assent to the rhetorical need for me to work in just some such manner as I've chosen. Consider how, at first glance (and for some time thereafter), Wayne Booth impresses one not so much as a single Booth than as a complex field of Booths: teacher, dean, member of university and national seminars-colloquiacommittees uncountable, MLA President, visiting lecturer, author of works on fiction, criticism, film, education, irony, rhetoric, ethics, religion, teaching . .1 In a recent address Booth calls himself a rhetorician, and in his most recent book a generalist (a closer look reveals to the initiate that for Booth these mean the same thing), but a set of questions will have occurred to the thoughtful Booth reader long before: is there a center to this widening (or at least fluctuating) gyre, is there some doctrine, activity, character, that pulls these pursuits together? Is calling oneself a generalist only an unsuccessful dodge of the more obviously demeaning label dilettante (however brilliant this dilettantism may be)? Or is there a unified field theory to account for these many Wayne Booths? Such a unified center does exist, I believe, though my aim in this paper is certainly not hagiographical. No, I am interested in arguing that Booth's version of rhetorical generalism is relevant to understanding-Booth, to be sure; in my view the essential Booth-but more importantly to understanding the very enterprise of rhetoric itself, as a dynamic, changing basis for liberal education-an education precisely to a specific, coherent, intellectual and moral character.2 Booth has never been content with whatever ethical order or identity he may have managed for himself (as real life author or act-er) over forty-odd years of multiform activity. Explicitly in most of his writings, more or less implicitly in the rest, Booth has not only written about rhetorical

Bruce Fraser's metaphor for metaphor was nicely illustrated by its contexta multi-disciplinary discussion in which linguists, philosophers, psychologists, scientists, educators, and other academics trained their talents on that powerful but elusive trope. Though full of promising approaches, the symposium did not reach consensus on any of the major questions about metaphor: what it is, how it works, whether it is essential or inessential to communication--or, indeed, whether it is to be encouraged, discouraged, or simply tolerated. As symposia like Metaphor and Thought and On Metaphor show, scholars continue to differ strongly and vociferously about the nature, implications, and value of metaphor. But the complexity of metaphor--and the scholarly controversy it generates--should not discourage attempts to grapple with it in the college classroom, even-or especially-at the introductory level. On the contrary, metaphor is so essential to language and thought, so inescapable in everyday life, that it should be a prominent topic in any liberal arts curriculum--especially in those courses that purport to analyze human communication. trouble is not that metaphor is ignored in the current liberal arts curriculum--though it seems to receive little attention outside the study of languages and literature--but rather that it tends to be taught inconsistently or even misleadingly. Indeed, in a recent essay, J. Hillis Miller pointed out that many popular rhetorics reiterate well-exploded assumptions about metaphor: e. g., that it is supplemental or inessential to argument (primarily illustrative) and that it is clearly distinguishable from literal language (50-54). If composition teachers are likely to teach metaphor as an optional persuasive device, literature teachers are likely to present it primarily, if not exclusively, as a poetic device. For various reasons and in various ways, teachers and textbooks too often perpetuate inappropriate and outdated ideas about metaphor, it is as though, for the sake of simplicity, introductory physics confined itself to presenting a Newtonian view of the universe. Like many contemporary critics, Miller adopts a Nietzschean position, that metaphor is inescapable because language is fundamentally figurative: The pervasively figurative nature of language is the destructive element' in which, to borrow Stein's advice in Lord Jim, writers must immerse' themselves in order to swim at all (54). And he rejects the argument that it is impossible or impractical to teach this to beginning college students (55). What follows is an attempt to suggest how this might be done--to outline what an introductory college curriculum in metaphoric literacy ought to cover, and why, and how such a curriculum might be

Tantalizing and provocative questions about classical systems of topical invention continue to receive well-deserved scholarly attention. Recently, Corbett, explored how the topics can inform the teaching of writing and Trimpi2 analyzed the possible connections between the topics and literary theory. Whether or not the topics divide themselves into material and formal received differing answers from Conley3 and Grimaldi.4 Moreover, investigations to discover how the tradition of topics shifted and changed across time has been addressed by Stump,5 Cogan,6 and Leff.7 The intellectual richness of such studies stems from many sources. Aristotle, for example, authors a topical system for dialectic and another, somewhat similar somewhat dissimilar, for the art of rhetoric. Cicero, in his early work offered a topical system based on persons and actions for rhetorical practice. Later, in his Topica something resembling Aristotle's dialectical method appears and then, even more problematic, in his later treatises a topical system uniting rhetoric and philosophy emerges, but in a truncated, fragmented form. As Buckley noted:

Chapman/Tate descriptive survey of 38 doctoral programs in rhetoric and composition has given us valuable information about these programs, which, for the most part, have sprung up only within the last ten years. survey, published in the Spring 1987 Review (124-86), revealed our programs' deep structure; it also has raised some questions about the definition, development and direction of our doctoral programs in rhetoric and composition. Few of the 38 programs that sent written materials for the survey listed classical rhetoric as core requirement, and almost half listed no history of rhetoric courses. However, 35 of the 38 programs listed theories of composition course. Because the availability of, as well as the teaching approach to, classical rhetoric can show the foundations on which our programs are built and the theoretical directions they may be taking, I prepared questionnaire on the classical rhetoric course offered in English departments, mailed it to 41 doctoral programs in rhetoric and composition, and eventually received 37 completed questionnaires. survey results not only reveal some foundations and direction of our programs in rhetoric and composition but also point out areas for further study. Does the program offer course in classical rhetoric and, if so, is the course part of the core requirement were two of the primary survey questions. Twenty-eight out of the 37 programs (76%) that sent written materials reported they offer course either in classical rhetoric or wherein substantial part is devoted to classical Eight (23%) do not offer the course, but in six of these eight the course is offered in Speech Communication. Two programs reported that the course is listed but not taught. And two programs reported the course is not offered at all. Four programs reported that the course offered in the English Department is also offered in Speech Communication. 76 percent of programs offering the course differ from the Chapman/Tate percentages because some of the 28 programs defined theirs as course in classical rhetoric where only one-third, about five weeks, or less, is devoted to classical These courses are, in the words of one respondent, a rush through rhetoric. Some courses, titled Rhetoric and (or Composition and Rhetoric), are actually topic courses that can take any focus. In one program it depends on who teaches the course whether it is history of rhetoric or the teaching of composition. Course names are quite varied. Only six are called History of Rhetoric, and two are named History and Theories. (The naming of one course title, survey respondent told me, has long and hilarious story. In 1976 the course had been The of Rhetoric, but that's the title of Richards' book, so the title was changed to Philosophy of Composition, which became the title of Hirsch's book, so the program changed it to its present title, The Rhetorical Tradition and the Teaching of Composition, at which point Knoblauch and Brannon appeared.) Other course titles are Theory and Practice of Rhetoric, Classical and Modern Discourse, Major Rhetorical Texts, Historical Studies, Rhetoric of Written Discourse. I was somewhat surprised that more of the course names didn't have the word written in the title to distinguish the course from the one offered in Speech for the last 75 years. Perhaps crossing departmental lines in the teaching of rhetoric is not the problem it was in the 70's. This subject itself would make an interesting study. classical rhetoric course is core requirement in 50 percent of the programs in contrast to the 91 percent of programs requiring composition theory. (In one program classical rhetoric is required, but it's offered only in Speech Communication.) These percentages suggest that we cannot assume the study of classical rhetoric as foundational for composition studies in our doctoral programs. In fact, it is possible for student to have Ph.D. specialty in rhetoric and composition without having had course in classical question here for further study is, then, how are we to define the rhetoric/composition speialist? next series of survey questions I asked focused on the frequency of the course offering, length of time it has been offered in the program, qualifications of the faculty who teach it, average enrollment and area of stuident specialty. In the majority of programs, the course is offered every other year and has been offered only within the last ten years. Usually, only one person teaches the course, faculty

Allan Bloom's controversial book The Closing of American Mind: How Higher Education Has Failed Democracy and Impoverished Souls of Today's Students2 has attracted popular attention to a position that already had been gaining currency among critics of American higher education. These critics charge that we educators are failing our students individually and our community collectively by failing to teach morality--by failing to attend to role our disciplines play for students and practitioners in formation of their character. But questions as complicated and momentous as whether education in a discipline should aim to develop moral character, how it should do so, and how it can do so without damaging spirit and skills of free inquiry are hardly such simple questions as they are often depicted, including by Bloom. This is especially true for a discipline so frequently accused of complicity with evil, or even inherent immorality, as rhetoric. Indeed question of rhetoric's role in formation of character presents a genuine dilemma, one that is often corrupted in public controversies about moral education. On one hand, professors of rhetoric have no apparent special training in such ethical issues, nor is it clear why they would have special obligations. One does not have to be Allan Bloom or Carnegie Commission or even William Bennett to believe that all educators have some general obligation to influence their students for better, but it is not clear why or how this should devolve in a special way on teachers of reading, writing and speaking. It could do so only if ethical issues were found to be somehow intrinsic to rhetoric itself, to what we must teach if we are to succeed in teaching rhetoric at all--intrinsic, perhaps, to its evolution as a discipline and a practice, or to one of its fundamental functions. But how can this be squared with our notions of rhetoric as a neutral instrument? On other hand, contemporary rhetoricians have made it at least as clear that rhetoric has inescapable connections to human character, that these connections by their nature may be objects of distinctively rhetorical inquiry, that such inquiry may sustain and extend critical discourse, and that it may produce knowledge, including moral knowledge. For as Kenneth Burke has taught us, rhetoric is essentially involved in the definition of man, and admits of analysis in terms of those motives through which human characters are constituted and realized.3 Moreover, as Wayne Booth has explained, formation of self occurs in a field of selves; we are made of, as we make, company we keep.4 If our character is so significantly at stake in our rhetoric, then process of understanding rhetoric better would seem to hold some possibilities for better understanding of character. Or put more practically: if character realizes and reveals itself significantly in rhetoric, knowledge achieved in rhetorical education and critical discourse arising from it may make some issues in formation of our characters more a matter of our informed, free, ethically charged choice. But what does all this have to do with our alleged responsibility to inculcate a particular morality?

Abstract Our profession has regretfully overlooked the rhetoric of Asia. The growing importance of the Pacific region as well as the intrinsic worth of such a study should persuade us to free ourselves from such ethnocentric myopia. While a few courses and some convention papers and journal articles are beginning to appear, there needs to be many more. While some recent empirical studies in cross cultural communication have discussed Asian contexts, there have been very few humanistic studies of Asian rhetoric. A suggested course is here outlined, with recommended readings and projects, and suggested sources for Asian speeches in English.

(1985). The cultural tradition of nineteenth‐century “traditional” grammar teaching. Rhetoric Society Quarterly: Vol. 15, No. 1-2, pp. 3-12.

Figures of Speech: 60 Ways to Turn a Phrase. By Arthur Quinn. Peregrine Books, 1982. Packaging the Presidency: A History and Criticism of Presidential Campaign Advertising. By Kathleen Hall Jamieson. New York: Oxford University Press, 1984. 505 pp. Rhetorical Traditions and the Teaching of Writing. By C. H. Knoblauch and Lil Brannon. Boynton/Cook, 1984. The Singer of Tales. By Albert B. Lord. New York: Rtheneum, 1976. Originally published by Harvard University Press as Harvard Studies in Comparative Literature, 24 (1960). Greek Declamation. D. A. Russell. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983. pp. vii + 41. $29.50

(1984). Gertrude Buck's rhetorical theory and modern composition teaching. Rhetoric Society Quarterly: Vol. 14, No. 3-4, pp. 95-104.

(1982). Quintilian's value for modern composition theory and teaching. Rhetoric Society Quarterly: Vol. 12, No. 2, pp. 95-104.

(1981). Imitation theory and teacher writing: An annotated bibliography. Rhetoric Society Quarterly: Vol. 11, No. 4, pp. 243-252.

Errors and Expectations: A Guide for the Teacher of Basic Writing. Mina P. Shaughnessy. New York: Oxford University Press, 1977. Pp. 311. Rhetoric and Composition: A Sourcebook for Teachers. Richard L. Graves. Rochelle Park, N.J.: Hayden Book Company, Inc., 1976. Ethics in Human Communication. Richard L. Johannesen. Columbus, Ohio: Chas. E. Merrill Pub. Co., 1975.

The Plural I: The Teaching of Writing. William E. Coles, Jr. With a Foreward by Richard Larson. New York: Holt, Rhinehart, and Winston, 1978. Prose Style and Critical Reading. Robert Cluett. New York: Columbia University, 1976. Pp. 316. The Language of Adam: On the Limits and Systems of Discourse. Russell Fraser. New York: Columbia University Press, 1977. Pp. 255. THE RHETORIC OF SCIENCE AND THE ASSAULT ON AMBIGUITY