As Sharon Crowley claims, first question asked of any research is 'What use is it in the classroom?' (Politics 7). Knowledge of the history of rhetoric should enable us to lecture persuasively, to convince our students of the significance of the rhetorical texts which we and our colleagues research. This essay will address the challenges in teaching the Latin rhetoric of the Middle Ages compellingly. Despite the astounding productivity of scholars in medieval rhetoric-despite the discoveries of new manuscripts, editions of pedagogical glosses and theorization of medieval precepts for communication-unfortunately, in many American survey courses, medieval Latin rhetoric is still presented with Elizabethan disgust.' It is typically introduced as wrongheaded excursion away from classical principles toward the slavish study of rhetorical formulae. While evaluating trends in scholarship on rhetoric's history, Kathleen Welch implies one reason for the dismissal of medieval rhetors: a nostalgia for the perceived golden past in the classical world. . (85). Here, I am proposing that, in order to cultivate greater understanding and respect, we must find other lectern generalizations than those current about medieval Latin rhetoric in history of rhetoric surveys. I suggest one alternative: that many of the accomplishments of medieval rhetoric correspond to the Burkean theory of identification. The Generals of History

A Rhetoric of Doing: Essays on Written Discourse in Honor of James L. Kinneavy, edited by Stephen P. Witte, Neil Nakadate, and Roger D. Cherry. Carbondale: Southern Illinois UP, 1992; 376 pp. Rethinking the History of Rhetoric: Multidisciplinary Essays on the Rhetorical Tradition ed. Takis Poulakos. Boulder: Westview Press. 1993. xi + 292 pp. Landmark Essays on Rhetorical Criticism edited by Thomas W. Benson. Davis, CA, Hermagoras Press, 1993; xi‐xxii; 247pp. Landmark Essays on American Public Address edited by Martin J. Medhurst. Davis, CA, Hermagoras Press, 1993; xi‐xliii; 227pp. Socratic Rationalism and Political Philosophy: An Interpretation of the Phaedo, by Paul Stern. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1993; 240 pp. A History of Professional Writing Instruction in American Colleges: Years of Acceptance, Growth, and Doubt by Katherine H. Adams. Dallas: Southern Methodist University Press, 1993; xi + 192 pp.

When James Boswell first meets Samuel Johnson in London in 1763, Johnson has already written the Rambler (1750-52), the Dictionary (1755), and Rasselas (1759), and dominates the publishing marketplace. They become close friends, and, until Johnson's death in 1784, Boswell often records in his journals Johnson's conversations, documenting his Wisdom and Wit and describing Johnson's encounters with his contemporaries. After Johnson's death, Boswell augments his own collection of Johnsonian memorabilia by soliciting anecdotes and letters from many of Johnson's friends, accumulating a mass of material which he pieces together and publishes in 1791 as The Life of Johnson, perhaps the most powerful and controversial biography ever written. In this influential biography of Johnson's life, Boswell presents Johnson as the great sage and philosopher, the composing genie who could dash off brilliant, eloquent essays and verse, seemingly without planning, revising or even rereading them. With this picture Boswell tries to create Johnson as the ideal writer of the age, whose writing method and style perfectly exemplify the paradigm of composition that prevailed in eighteenth-century Scottish rhetorical theory, particularly that of Adam Smith. Influenced by Smith's lectures, which he had attended while a student at Glasgow University, Boswell constructs Johnson as writer within this paradigm and thus fosters both a narrow view of invention and a mythological image of Johnson as inspired speedwriting genius. In the process, he misrepresents Johnson's theory of writing, tying Johnson too closely to what W.S. Howell calls Smith's new rhetoric (541), which focuses on style and views invention as an autonomous activity based on introspection and imagination rather than as interactive, systematic inquiry, Aristotle's conception of invention. A careful reading of the Life of Johnson reveals major contradictions in the picture Boswell sketches of Johnson as writer and indicates that Boswell's mythical image of Johnson's spontaneous writing ability tends to rest upon thin and questionable anecdotal evidence, upon the clever way Boswell arranges and phrases his material, upon the narrow conception of invention he inherited from Adam Smith, and upon his need to canonize Johnson into literary sainthood and even to make him the secular Godhead of the age, the Father of modern writing. At the same time, it is difficult to avoid concluding that most contemporary critics remain mesmerized by Boswell's myth and impelled by his same motives.

Collaborative Learning: Higher Education, Interdependence, and the Authority of Knowledge by Kenneth A. Bruffee. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins U P 1993. Scenarios for Teaching Writing: Contexts for Discussion and Reflective Practice by Chris M. Anson, Joan Graham, David A. Jolliffe, Nancy S. Shapiro, and Carolyn H. Smith. Urbana, NCTE, 1993. 160 pp. Seeing Yourself as a Teacher: Conversations with Five New Teachers in a University Writing Program by Elizabeth Rankin. Urbana, NCTE, 1994. 136 pp. Evaluating Teachers of Writing, ed. by Christine A. Hult Urbana, NCTE, 1994. 189 pp. Arguing the Apocalypse: A Theory of Millennial Rhetoric, by Stephen D. O'Leary. New York: Oxford U P, 1994, pp. 314. Oratorical Culture in Nineteenth‐Century America: Transformations in the Theory and Practice of Rhetoric, ed. Gregory Clark and S. Michael Halloran. Southern Illinois UP, 1994. 281pp. Rhetoric and Reality in Plato's Phaedrus by David A. White. Albany, SUNY P, 1993. 340 pp.

Over forty years have passed since five hundred participants gathered at the first conference on College Freshman Courses in Composition and Communication.l Since then our discipline has undergone unprecedented change, often characterized by moments of intense excitement, pride and astonishing growth: the watershed 1963 CCCC; the proliferation of journals, university presses and conferences; the institution of nationally recognized graduate programs in composition; the development of research communities; the addition of new rhetoric and composition positions within departments of English; and the expanding role of writing workshops and writing-across-the-curriculum projects. These years of development have also provided an opportunity and a need to look back on the issues that have defined and continue to shape our discipline. It is with this goal in mind that we have assembled the following annotated bibliography. Our purpose here is to provide a resource guide and overview for those who wish to familiarize themselves with the kinds of practices, research questions, and histories which have constituted our profession in the last forty years. The materials we collected, therefore, explore such fundamental concerns as the professionalization of composition, the formation of a canon, the interrelationship of rhetoric and composition, received histories of the field, and areas which call for further research. The the scope of this collection is necessarily limited-in both chronology and content; its focus is representative rather than definitive, descriptive rather than prescriptive. The works catalogued here were selected from several sources: ERIC searches, separately published bibliographies, conference programs and surveys, journals with annually published bibliographies, data base searches, and journal directories. We have attempted to provide a fair distribution of chronological coverage and, as is the case in more recent years, to choose the most representative works when the number of items in a given category became unwieldy. We have chosen these materials because they fit one or more of the following criteria: (1) They attempt to define our discipline; (2) They trace major shifts in theory and/or practice; (3) They present meaningful overviews of theoretical and pedagogical issues and research questions; (4) They summarize large, significant areas of research; (5) They affirm connections or establish distinctions between rhetoric and composition and other disciplines.

Coleridge criticism has a stormy quality about it, as if what we know about Coleridge is something we see only by flashes of lightning over some dark landscape. In Experience Into Thought, Kathleen Coburn says that Coleridge is irritating to certain tempers, perhaps especially to the curriculum-making academic mind(67). Her statement is ironic. Coleridge was always working on curriculum. His rage for a system that included the irrational and lucky graces forced him into whole courses about thinking and language, whole encyclopedias of knowledge. Still, the plan in most academic circles seems to have been to place Samuel Taylor Coleridge in the canon as a fragment of history and forget him. After long years of reading criticism about Samuel Taylor Coleridge rather than reading his works, it is time to see if there is a Coleridge worth claiming for rhetoric and composition. One problem in validating a Coleridge for our time is reading him. It seems that we have lost the habit of reading his kind of discourse. Perhaps because of his translations and readings of the German Transcendentalists, Coleridge's prose wanders and speculates, opposes its central premises, comments on itself incessantly. Composition scholars see him as an antithesis of the kind of style recommended in our classrooms and in our journals. Also, as composition studies attempt to establish territory in departmental turf wars, Coleridge becomes an easy target for those who would use him to demonstrate how literary concerns should not be included in composition pedagogy. As much as some might want Coleridge to go away, he will not. Linda Flower argues that Coleridge's inspirational model for composition is a threat to the teaching of composition (Problem-Solving). Ross Winterowd asserts that Coleridge is a primary reason for the devaluation of the literature of fact because his theory of composition or rhetoric lacks purpose (64). In both cases, eminent scholars and researchers in the field of composition are reacting to a stereotypical view of Coleridge and his works, as if the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner and Kubla Khan represent Coleridge's philosophy and theory of composition. But there is more to Coleridge's philosophy of composition than his poems, his theory of imagination in Biographia Literaria, or his criticism suggest. Kenneth

Imitation has long been a method and theoretical basis for rhetorical instruction. It has also enjoyed a complex, if not always glorious, history-a lineage which extends from the apprenticeship of sophists in Plato's Greece to the moral education of orators in Quintilian's Rome; from the nurturing of abundant expression in a Renaissance text by Erasmus to the cultivation of taste in an Enlightenment text by Hugh Blair. In the last few decades, however, we have witnessed dramatic changes in how we look upon imitation-changes largely influenced, we think, by the process movement, with its various emphases on invention and revision, expression and discovery, cognition and collaboration. In the wake of shifting so much of our attention to writing processes, we might well expect imitation to have been pronounced as dead as Nietzche's God was a century ago. But if the literature reviewed here is any indication, rumors of imitation's death have been greatly exaggerated. Most of the studies in our survey are favorablyand surprisingly-disposed to imitation's continued practice. Such studies typically call for a revised understanding of imitation, a novel approach which reveals the proponent's understanding of the need to somehow demonstrate imitation's acceptability to a community which presumably resists its use. Why? Most likely because imitation turns on assumptions about writing and learning which many find discomforting, if not altogether objectionable. There are, of course, fairly complex historical, cultural, and theoretical reasons for our current aversion to imitation, many of which we explore later in our review. But the important point for us is that those who argue for imitation-however much they may differ in their various arguments-share an awareness that its use must be justified in answer to, and anticipation of, its critical refusal by the community at large. What we infer from this awareness is the community's largely tacit rejection of imitation. That's not to say, of course, that explicit criticism of imitation is wholly absent from the literature.' But in a context where many readily assent to the idea that almost any form of direct imitation leads to a distortion of the writing process, there is little urgency to speak against its use in the writing classroom (Judy and Judy 127). Indeed, only those who desire a reevaluation of imitation need

Sixteenth-century English humanist educators claimed that their educational programs prepared students for civic life by providing not just technical training in language use, but a more important ethical and moral training. The present discussion is to examine this claim, particularly as it applies to the question of what might have been the role of imitation exercises informing students' ethical character. When one considers imitation pedagogy in the general context of humanist education and in the particular context of the reading method prescribed by Erasmus, one finds that such exercises served not only as means by which student writers might assimilate the characteristic style and habits of thinking of the models they choose, but, in fact, such exercises were tools for students' ethical indoctrination. Anthony Grafton and Lisa Jardine question whether humanist educators actually could have made good their claim to provide moral training or preparation for civic life (122). Examining the evidence available for the practices of humanist teachers, Grafton and Jardine contend that humanist education at its best was little more than training in Latin language skills. In support of their contention, Grafton and Jardine discuss the early fifteenth-century teaching practices of Guarino Guarini of Verona and the lectures of later Roman and Florentine rhetoricians, such as Buonaccorso Massari. By examining students' notes from such lectures, Grafton and Jardine conclude that the approach of these humanists to the classical texts was so unstructured and fraught with philological detail that students could not have been prepared by such education to confront larger questions concerning the attitudes and beliefs [which inform an entire text] either to endorse them, or to challenge them (58-67). To consider Grafton and Jardine's question as it applies to sixteenth-century English humanist educators' use of imitation pedagogy, one must first recall how the political conditions and religious strife of the English Renaissance affected the sort of education the English humanists advocated. Political and religious indoctrination became important aspects of sixteenth-century English humanist education even while such education retained the characteristic rhetorical nature of earlier Renaissance humanist education. According to William Bouwsma, early Renaissance Italian humanism was characterized by an emphasis on rhetoric, a cultural relativism, and an intellectual rejection of older conceptions of order, or cosmos. But northern European Renaissance culture of 1450 onwards was characteristically inclined to reassert intellectual order and authority as political, religious, and cultural forces of order (particularly the monarchies and the papacy) reasserted their power (422-431). In England, the Tudor monarchy began to assert first its political authority and later, with Henry VIII's break with Rome, its religious authority. Grafton and Jardine explain that at the same time it was left for northern European humanist educators, particularly Erasmus, to make humanism practicable in the classroom, to change philological method into pedagogical method. Fifteenth-century Italian humanists at Rome and Florence had lectured brilliantly, elucidating by philological method obscure classical texts

First, I'd like to offer analysis of Halasek's and Bernard-Donals' utterances, but it may also be taken as rhetorical or tendentious characterization of them. If we begin with the two points of reference provided by our session's title, and Rhetorical Criticism, I think we can say that Halasek identifies herself as rhetorical critic or theorist who belongs to community of like-minded rhetorical critics and theorists, one that together poststructuralist thought, social constructivism, and writing and pedagogy. For them Bakhtin's vilification of is problem and his alternative rhetorical tradition is an opportunity. Halasek can summarize the Bakhtin attacks and distance herself from it as a definition of that is not ours and she can appropriate as much more congenial to herself and her fellow rhetoricians the rhetorical tradition of oppositional genres and discourse moves with which Bakhtin identifies the novel. She imagines Bakhtin's hostility to as consequence of his hostility to the official languages of Russia during his lifetime and imagines herself and her colleagues as also opposed to a of oppression but apparently not confronted with similar authoritarian political situation. Instead of identifying herself exclusively with parodic rhetoric opposed to an official monologic she posits dialogic rhetoric which can contemplate the tensions between polemic and rhetorics in the professional and pedagogical tasks of textual and cultural analysis. Bakhtin offers her better way of doing what rhetorical critics were already doing. Halasek welcomes Bakhtin's tension-filled genres and joyful relativity in prose that is relatively free from tension and clear about where it stands. She can separate Bakhtin's vilification of from his celebration of it, choose one side over the other, and even explain away Bakhtin's adherence to the side she rejects as function of his particular historical situation. She is at home with the listeners she posits and brings them Bakhtin they can use without having to change their minds about or politics. Bemard-Donals, on the other hand, writes tension-filled and ambivalent prose in the name of escaping from relativism and uncertainty. He is not at one with what he takes to be the community of contemporary rhetorical but sees it as plagued by the collapse of distinction between science and that he somehow wants to reassert He persists in commitment to theory or science or dialectic or history that he believes rhetorical critics like Fish and Rorty have subsumed under rhetoric, and he turns to Bakhtin not to assimilate him to the consensus in current rhetorical but to find way out of the impasse of current rhetorical theory. The Bakhtin he needs for his purposes is not the celebrant of parody and joyful relativity but the theorist of the socially constituted subject who can provide rhetorical criticism with scientific model for understanding how subjects are formed in language. In effect, he wants to substitute Bakhtin's sociolinguistics of the subject for the psychology of the subject Plato calls for in the Phaedrus as the scientific foundation for that could then know, as he put it in his

readers a philosophical endorsement of rhetoric, an argument for narrative, a hypotactical defense of parataxis, and a serious discussion of playfulness. The one exception to this cryptodialectical commentary is Jarratt's second chapter. There she skillfully avoids the binary trope of mythos-logos, rejects convincingly the logic of linear historical progress, and demonstrates nicely how the sophistical affinity for nomos shifts our attention from a questionable and outdated dichotomy to a field large enough to include both binary terms and meaningful enough to transcend their differences. Dismissing neither mythos nor logos, nomos appropriates both, and in so doing invents something other that problematizes the already familiar. Unfortunately, the story of nomos is only half of a larger sophistical story. The other, opposing half, the story of physis, finds itself associated only with the philosophers. Insofar as Antiphon's and Hippias' arguments for physis support part of her agenda, this omission or misassociation is all the more perplexing. In the 1850's George Grote observed that the sophists were the mainstream intellectuals in their culture and Plato an eccentric reformer. True, many historians of philosophy reversed this historical reality, making Plato the intellectual king and the sophists his unworthy subjects. Now Jarratt urges historians of rhetoric to give the sophists, women, and teachers of English composition a more prominent role in the new histories of rhetoric. Recent works by Vickers, Conley, and Bizzell are already doing what she is urging. If Jarratt is looking for more recognition as a historian of rhetoric, a feminist intellectual, and a teacher of college composition, she has a great deal more support than she may realize.

Almost all modern historians of rhetoric have undertaken to separate the men from the boys. But while rhetoric itself was talked about among men, it was to boys, and the handbooks that we have inherited-as well as most of those that we have lost-were intended for the instruction of the young. Feminist objections to classical rhetoric as been conducted among men-not women are consonant with this analysis, but I wish to emphasize here the ageism and academic self-hatred that we support when we accept the suppression of the pedagogical aspects of the history of our profession.' The dismissal of earlier pedagogical textbooks by both traditional and revisionist historians of rhetoric seems to me to be part of post-romantic unteachability topos, which assumes that what is most important about education is what least resembles the classroom.2 This topos is reinforced by more recent one that can be equally debilitating: the fear of teaching topos, in which having taught becomes synonymous with having oppressed.3 We can see their suppression of the pedagogical focus of classical rhetoric in the choice of rhetoric texts from earlier eras that traditional historians elevate to authoritative status. At one extreme is the modern canonization of Aristotle's Rhetoric, text that was never popular as pedagogical treatise in the ancient world, and at the other the rejection of Cicero's De invenltione and the Pseudo-Ciceronian Rhetorica ad Herenniurn. two rhetoric handbooks widely used in schools for hundreds of years. It is to the credit of traditional historians of rhetoric who are attempting to reclaim classical rhetoric as viable and important pedagogical alternative that they have been affected by this prejudice against pedagogy more in what they say than in what they do. Corbett's Handbook of Classical Rhetoric, for example, lavishly praises Aristotle's Rhetoric but, as the title reveals, presents its pedagogical material in fashion much closer to that of the Ciceronian tradition. Thomas Sloane, making passionate appeal in College English for the reclaiming of Ciceronian invention, dismisses De inventione as a famous and regrettably enduring handbook (462) before proceeding to extrapolate pedagogical content readily available in De invenhtione from the more diffuse and less pedagogically relevant De oratore.4

I am about to argue for strengthening place of in teaching of writing. Recent work in and composition is already studded with appeals to and to philosophers, and such appeals have been made for many different purposes. My own reason for pursuing in this context is for purpose of setting up productive conflict among terms philosophy, politics and rhetoric. Although part of way I measure productiveness of this conflict is by its ability to reveal interdependence of terms, I intend more specifically to argue for as way of responding to-and to some degree resisting-the inevitable politicizing of teaching of writing. Consequently my appeal to differs in purpose from Ann Berthoff's famous appeal to as study which enables us to understand relationship between, in Richards' terms, what is said and what is meant, or, in Berthoff's own words, the nexus of hermeneutics and semiotics (Counter-Response 84). This account of is strongly slanted by orientation of literary critic-to point where a of knowledge becomes equivalent to a theory of imagination (Forming 6). Berthoff puts this theoretical commitment to work in pedagogy that uses classroom as philosophic laboratory in which teachers teach students how to form by teaching them that they form (2). I share John Schilb's concern that this formulation won't be able to help clarify relation of philosophy and rhetoric (67-68) in any useful way. More to point, I also share Schilb's belief that understanding of relation of and can be enlivened by consideration of how politics can serve

A Short History of Writing Instruction from Ancient Greece to Twentieth‐Century America. Edited by James J. Murphy. Davis: Hermagoras Press, 1990; pp. i‐iv + 241. The Origins of Rhetoric in Ancient Greece by Thomas Cole. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press. 1991; pp. xiv +191. Deeds Done in Words: Presidential Rhetoric and the Genres of Governance by Karlyn Kohrs Campbell and Kathleen Hall Jamieson. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990; pp. ix + 275. Democratic Eloquence: The Fight Over Popular Speech in Nineteenth‐Century America by Kenneth Cmiel. New York: William Morrow and Company, 1990; pp. 351. Presidential Debates: The Challenge of Creating an Informed Electorate by Kathleen Hall Jamieson and David S. Birdsell. New York: Oxford University Press, 1988; pp. x + 264. Rhetoric and the New Testament by Burton L. Mack. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990; pp. 110.

When Edward P. J. Corbett was editor of College Composition and Communication, his fairly rigid standards for article length undoubtedly had the effect of forcing some loose thinking to a fairly sharp point. It also had the effect of pushing some discussions into an awesome degree of compression that made them less available to casual readers than they might have been otherwise. On the other hand, they offer a rewarding read now, if one is willing to commit the mental energy to put them together with the world. To my mind, a classic illustration of this sort of essay is George Yoos' An Identity of Roles in Writing and Reading from the fall, 1979 issue. In that paper, Yoos provided a model for reading and writing processes that finds reciprocity between writing and reading strategies at four different levels-at the level of objective expression or of content, at the level of face-adjustment or ethical appeal, at the level of audience, and at the level of logic or truth. Under this system, both writer and reader perform in roles defined by these four topics, and if one is generally accentuated in any specific situation, it is pretty clear that accommodation or sensitivity to all roles can provide a highly enriched perspective on writing. However, any conceptualizing like this, anchored in Collingwood, Croce, and George Herbert Meade (the names cited here) is probably going to seem rather alien and have some apparently rough points for present day readers. One of these is Yoos' flat assumption-deriving from Collingwood and Croce-that Kinneavy's effort to see expression as a mode of communication is wrong, and that the need to keep expression separate from communication is basic to an understanding of the writing process. Our present pedagogical tendency of using personal expression as a way to develop fluency and authenticity will tend to make readers unreceptive to the basic truth that writing will always be writing, that is, texts in which expression can be found, but which should never be confused with expression. To ignore this fact is to run a far graver risk of creating writing anxiety than would be possible by framing writing as an impersonal formalistic game. Another rough point would have to be Yoos' notion of the faceadjustment role, which he identifies with ethical appeal as a matter of clear about what one is doing. Yoos draws a clear distinction between this and the audience role which involves a strategic awareness and management of how different audiences will react, and, from the reading point of view, a reader's awareness of how these audiences are being managed. These are very subtle distinctions that take us quite a way back to a classical view of rhetorical operations (pace Knoblauch and Brannon). More generally, Yoos makes it clear that the relation between writing and reading is much deeper than writing scholars tend to acknowledge, in spite of the years of research into reading and writing connections. Certainly the kind of mirror-imaging that his essay provides-in which, say, an objective-expressive is one the writer plays by getting what he or she knows down into words, and that the reader reads for to see what the writer really knows, as a ground to be comprehended before processing rhetorical and logical acts-involves a complex conceptualizing of the communication process that promises a very rich critical

Persuasive discourse, either as a separate mode of discourse (Kinneavy 1971) or as a distinctive part of argumentative discourse,2 frequendy remains part of the overall writing assignment for our composition students. Although we may disagree as to how to define exactly or teach persuasive discourse in writing classrooms, we have more or less followed the tradition of Western classical rhetoric with respect to our basic understanding of it--although few of us would now restrict ourselves only to discovering in the particular case what are the available means of persuasion (Aristotle 1960: 7). For example, we teach our students different sub-types of persuasive discourse and ask them to apply ethical, emotional (pathetic) and logical proofs to their own persuasive essays; we select political speeches, polemic essays or modern advertising materials as prime examples of how different persuasive strategies and techniques can be most effectively invoked to achieve their respective objectives of winning. To varying degrees, many composition text books have adopted, and thus perpetuated this normal way of doing things with persuasive discourse.3 In so doing, however, we have--perhaps unknowingly--imparted to our students two problematic notions, which underlie much of what has been believed to be persuasive discourse. The first assumes that persuasive discourse is grounded in or predicated on conflict or confrontation, which it aims to overcome or eradicate. The second perceives audience as both external4 and oppositional, whom persuasive discourse is intended to transform or convert. It is these two notions and their probable consequences that I will discuss first in this essay. Following this discussion, I will draw upon, respectively, Grice's cooperative model of conversation (1975; 1989) and Burke's concept of (1962) to propose a new heuristic model5 of persuasive discourse, one that takes cooperation through identification as a core constituent and provides a dynamic setting that is conducive to rhetorical diversities. Finally, I will consider some potentials of this new model in our writing classrooms.

In last twenty-five years, field interpersonal communication has expanded tenaciously, establishing connections with disciplines such as sociology, psychology, and even literary studies.l Although this rapid expansion indicates current strength and vigor field, it also indicative a veritable identity crisis. Suggests Arthur P. Bochner, Interpersonal communication is a vague, fragmented, and loosely-defined subject that intersects all behavioral, social, and cultural sciences. There are no rigorous definitions that limit scope field, no texts that comprehensively state its foundations, and little agreement among its practitioners about which frameworks or methods offer most promise for unifying field. (1985, 27) There is nothing inherently wrong with vagueness, fragmentation, or loose definitions, course; Renaissance Humanism was built on such a foundation. What is unsettling about interpersonal communication's crisis character, though, is reticence exhibited by field's theorists to explore connections with distant past. Perusing footnotes, indexes, and bibliographies contemporary interpersonal communication research and pedagogy, one works back only as far as relatively recent [social scientists and other] figures such as Martin Buber, Carl Rogers, Abraham Maslow, Eric Fromm, R. D. Laing, and Eric Berne. This suspiciously brief official history is verified in Handbook Interpersonal Communication, in which Mark Knapp and Gerald Miller assert that concerted interest in study interpersonal communication processes and outcomes is relatively recent origin, and that the study interpersonal communication did not commence to bloom profusely until 1960's (8). Knapp and Miller's suggestion that the study interpersonal communication has thus far progressed only from infancy to adolescence (1 1) further supports widespread belief that discipline is extremely young. The central argument this essay-that scholars interpersonal communication, in an effort to define their discipline in modern terms, have mistakenly cut themselves off from their true roots and from much liberal-arts tradition-is built upon three principal contentions. First, interpersonal communication is not of relatively recent origin, but is, in fact, an ancient study, dating back at least as far as Plato. Second, interpersonal communication grew out a healthful, invigorating competition with ancient rhetorical theory and practice. In order to understand claims, power, and limitations one, we must have an appreciation for, or at least an understanding of, other. Third, interpersonal communication specialists, both in their research and in classroom, should highlight their field's long and enlightening battle with

Contemporary scholarship in rhetoric has recognized Ralph Waldo Emerson's interests in rhetorical theory. James A. Berlin, for example, who identifies Emerson's romantic rhetoric, in opposition to the rhetoric of the late eighteenth century, as a precursor of several modem tendencies, deals adequately with Emerson in his survey of nineteenth-century American writing instruction (42-57). Berlin's treatment of Emerson will be assumed here, qualified by Judy F. Parham's point that the tension between private and public in Emerson is a productive one (80). However, although he implies that Henry David Thoreau's position does not differ significantly from Emerson's, Berlin does not treat Thoreau's theoretical statements separately. Similarly, although dozens of literary scholars have investigated Thoreau's rhetorical practices, to my knowledge no analysis has been done on his rhetorical theory.l My intention is to show that Thoreau presents a theoretical version of eloquence distinct from Emerson's. Although this presentation is by no means unified in terms of a quintessential reduction, a consistent version does emerge across various works and personas, one fundamentally incompatible as well with the psychological rhetoric Thoreau studied in Richard Whately's Elements of Rhetoric and the opinions of Harvard's Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory, Edward T. Channing. Thoreau's thoughts on eloquence, I suggest, should be aligned with a much different tradition in order to highlight their unique character.

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

Odd Man Out: A Biography of Lord Soper of Kingsway, by William Purcell. Oxford: A. R. Mowbray & Co., 1983. 196 pages. Power and Communication, by Andrew King. Waveland Press, Inc., 1987. Writing Instruction in Nineteenth Century American Colleges, by James A. Berlin. Southern Illinois University, 1984. Rhetoric and Reality; Writing Instruction In American Colleges, 1900–1985. James Berlin. Southern Illinois University Press, 1987

(1987). Aristotle's “special topics”; in rhetorical practice and pedagogy. Rhetoric Society Quarterly: Vol. 17, No. 1, pp. 61-70.