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This institution reserves the right to refuse to accept a copy order if, in its judgement, fulfillment of the order would involve violation of the copyright law. AUTHOR: CICERO, MARCUS TULLIUS TITLE: CICERO ON ORATORY AND ORATORS ... PLA CE : LONDON DA TE : 1808 COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LiiiKARlES PRESERVATION DEPARTMENT BiBLiUGRAl'iliC MiCROi-URM 1 ARGET Master Negative # Original Material as Filmed - Existing Bibliographic Record Restrictions on Use: 87CR3 JI De oratore, English. Cicero, Marcus Tullius. On oratory and orators, with notes historical and explanatory; a new ed. carefully rev. and corrected ... London, Richardson, I8O8. 2 V. 22 cm. Translated by William Guthrie, v,2 contiiins Edward Jones' translation of Cicero's Brutus. J J TECHNICAL MICROFORM DATA REDUCTION RATIO: FILM SIZE: ^'^_A1_ IMAGE PLACEMENT: lA (@> IB IIB DATE FILMED: y/iPM^L. INITIALS J^V RLMEDBY: RESEARCH PUBLICATIONS. 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NOTES HISTORICAL AND EXPLANATORY A NEW EDITION, f-f yp*' ♦~, i^* I- ■ CAREFULLY REVISED AND CORRECTED. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. 1 LONDON : fMVTED FOK J. AND J. RICHARDSON; F. C AND J. RIVINCTON ; W '"'OTKIDOBANDSO.; ..WALKER; R. LE. ; ..NUNN; l^l^l^^^^^^l martin; LACEtNGTON, ALLEN, AND CO.; DARTON AND "ARVEY LO:^MAN, HVRST, REES, AND ORMEJ VERNOR, ^^^^^^ ^f /"^//f,' CADCLL AND DAVIESJ J. MURRAY; J. BOOKER; AND J. ASFERM. 1808. t ^sf ■* ^ • * -. <.'■'-" * J^ ■ , - ' ^- ' * '" . , ■ t ^ v..-f''v> <■«.' . „ -; ti.y ^ " '^ '^j ^ * ^ .^ * t* ■^ H.-" « * -'t . ^ -mi- ^ ^ -V^'i' » :.-•-. " '"- ^ > ^ . ^ I c ^ t 'j'i- ,^ f^ ». "* * k^i- t 4" - ' ' r PREFACE. / \^ /) R ^ \ \j i Ul WRKJfir, Frintfr, St. JoJx'i ^fjokre. The character and qualifications of an orator are so Avell, and so tiill}^ handled in the fol- lowing work, that it would be the height of presumption to say any thing further on these heads. Our author himself has rested his re- putation upon the merits and execution of this performance, and all that is left for a translator, is to endeavour that his orioinal may not be disgraced by the copy, and that the friends of Cicero may not blush at the mean appearance he makes in a modern lan- guage. But it is impossible with any pro- j)riety to introduce my great author to the public in the following translation, w^ithout at the same time acquainting the world with the motives^ I had almost said, with the neces^ aitj/, of the present undertaking. Men of learning are divided with regard to the merit of translations in general ; I shall not pretend to decide upon either side ; but I will venture to say, that if the present taste in learning should gain ground, this nation will soon have no other means left of being acquainted with the good se?ise of the ancients, but through translations. It is upon this foot-» ing a 2 7 o o --^ . ) J ■ {J IV ing only tluit I will justify the translation of a prose author ; and 1 may appeal to every gentleman who converses abroad in the world, to every gentleman who has had any opportu- nities of being acquainted with the present trade of education, if, in this island, we arc not in chin<>:er of losins: not onlv the beau- ties, but even the meaning of those writers among the ancient, whose works are not yet translated. While 1 say this, 1 am far from condemnino- the method of education that is now generally adopted. I am sensible, as tliis is a trading nation, that the education ivhich most tends to qualify young gentle- men to support the interest of their countr}^ which undoubtedly lies in commerce, is most to be pursued ; but, at the same time, the na- ture of our irovcrnment and constitution de- mands that gentlemen oi* property be conver- sant in other studies ; and though there is not in this nation, perhaps, the ^^dmc public de- mand for the knowledge and practice of the art, which is the inunediate subject of these sheets, as there was in old Kome, yet I will venture to affirm, that in no age, and in no country, since the days of Cicero, they have been more useful and more necessary than in the present. Looking upon this undertaking in that liirht, Ave shall find that it claims all the at- tention that is due to a. public concern; and though a few of the many who may have occa- sion to practise the excellent rules laid down by I f by our author, may understand, nay be pleased with them in the original, yet their im, portance and usefulness must in a great de- gree have been lost to the world, without the medium of a modern language. I am sorry to observe ferther, that for wanting that medium they have been m a great measure lost hither- to, and that they who are acquainted with the origmal, and shall take the trouble to read my author, even in the disguise, and under the disadvantage, of a translation, will enter into all the sources of those amazing effects of eloquence which he has often felt, and perhaps practised, with- ■ out being sensible of the cause to which they were owing. Learning therefore may be called the auxiliary of good sense, and all learning that has not this in view is ai)ursuit unworthy the care, and below the attention of reason Lrood sense may subsist without learning, but then Its aim is more uncertain, and its ef- fects more irregular than when it has the assistance of the examples, the sentiments and the precepts of the greatest men of former ages. If we carry this observation farther, we find that as the learnino- which has not the improvement of good sense ul- timately in view is childish, so the good seme which has not virtue for its end, is dan- gerous. It was owing to the conviction of this great maxim that the Romans arose to such a height of power under many " disad- 4 ^ VI ■^ disadvantages of their constitution. It wasf this maxim that directed them to engraft arts upon govcmmeuf^ and by that means each communicated strength and vigour to the other, till the loss of their virt?ie proved the ruin of both. Arts did indeed survive liberty, but their duration Avas but faint, and they but too frequently proved des- tructive to their possessors. Let us now apply this observation to my author, lie lived in a state where the radical power was in the people, and the people com- municated dignity to every other branch of government. The genius of their constitu- tion on the other hand inclined io monarchy ; and tlie people, with the most embittered aversion to the name^ were perpetually lean- ing to the tiling. It was owing, more than once, to tlie senate and their magistrates, that they did not relapse into regal power; their own demands had ultimately this ten- dency ; for the extremes of democracy lead more nearl}^ than any other form of govern- ment to the principles of tyranny. The wiser among the senate saw this, and elocpience was tlie only means of stennning, or rather di- verting, the torrent of popular passions. This Avas the foundation of the great esteem which doqutncc had always under the republican government of Rome ; no other engine could have been applied with equal success. The people liad iound, by the effects of their se- ca-Hons from the senate, that thoui^rh the ba- lance Vl'l lance of property was in favour of the senate and nobility, yet Xhvit power could command property. Good sense directed them to find out this trutli, a tnttk which after ages and governments have affected to keep as' a se- cret; and every people who are sensible of It will be able to retain their liberties. In short, if we consider the history of Rome through all the struggles betwixt the people and the senate, we "find it no other than a struggle betwixt property, which was vested in the senate, and pouer, which lay in the people. The acquisitions obtained by the people were wrested from the senate, upon the great principle that the safety of the peo^ pie is the first law in government, and that no positive institution could take place, or stand in the way, of this fundamental maxim. Upon this principle they succeeded; but their success brought them to the brink of ruin : it is easy to raise a spirit in a people; but to know where to fix the proper bounds of that spirit is dilficidt. The passions of a people, though right and virtuous, may be corrupted by the private views of artful men; and it is commonly found that the people never reflect they have gone too far, till they find the lengths they have gone are irretriev- able. Things were drawing to this crisis when our author appeared upon the stage of life; and nothing can give the reader so high an idea of the ])ower of that eloquence,- winch is so b 3 well Vlll well described in the following conferences^ as by reflecting that for some time it was capa- ble oibalanci7i% the contending parties of the Ro^ wan state; and had such a conmiand over the passions of the people, as to keep the fate of the republic for so?ne time in suspense. But though it was perhaps happy for Rome that our author lived at that particular juncture, yet it was unhappy for himself Had he lived an age sooner tljan he did, and been endowed with the same temper and abilities, he might have saved his country from the miseries that afterwards befel her; had he, ou the other hand, begun to live at the period when he fell, he might have passed his days in a splendour, dignity, and ease more agree- able to his own cast of mind ; and though he could not have recovered the liberty of Rome, yet he might have found the means of making her chains sit lighter than they af- terwards did. To be convinced of the first of these propositions one needs but to reflect upon the fate of the Gracchi, and the conse- quences with which their ruin was attended. Both of them had great abilities, great qua- lities, great eloquence, and, so far as we are warranted to judge from history, honest in- tentions. The people of Rome had never seen men of eloquence equal to theirs es- pouse their interests. Eloquence till that time was always monopolized ; it was an arca- num imperii^ an instrument of government in the hands of the senate. The senate used all IX all precautions to keep it in this track, and, as I observed before, was the only en- gine that diverted the tide of popular pas- sion, and weakened it so as not to beat too high upon their own order^ and authority. The Gracchi broke the enchantment, nay, turned the artillery of the senate against it- self. 1 shall not enter into the dispute at present, which were in the right— it is foreign to my purpose. I will, however, venture to say, that though the Gracchi fell in the struggle, yet they left several valuable lecra- cies to the liberty of their country. These must have prolonged the duration of the Ro- man state, had not the faction by which the Gracchi fell, set a fVilal precedent to teach succeeding times, by melancholy experience, that when the sword is drawn by a govern- ment, under the plea of necessity, the same sword will one time or other be successfully employed for subverting the government it* self. The necessities of the people justify an al-^ teration of any positive act of government ; but the necessities of government never can justify the weakening the security which the people enjoy in regard either to their lives or their properties. The death of the Gracchi mtroduced a set of maxims till that time unknown in Rome; the life of Cicero was spent in a continual struggle, on the one hand with the designs of artful men, who had cloaked their own ambition witb the spe- O O ClOUS "•1 XI clous pretext of the people's good, and on> the otlier liaiul with tiie exercise of power vested in men, who l)y means of that pre- text proved too powerful for the constitu- tion. A tenderness for the safety of Roman citizens was the living spirit of the Roman laws; this tenderness was violated by the death of the Gracchi; and tlie fates of the conspirators in the case of Catiline, though warranted by the strongest circumstances of necessitj/^ served as a handle for driving our author into exile, and aggravating his pu- nishment with several marks of severity and ignominy. The spcakei's in the following conferences were principal actors in those scenes (>f deep distress that preceded our author's appear- ance in public life. Their conduct was the model oi /lis; their princij)les were adopted, and their learning improved by him, 'J1iis work is the memorial of their virtues and abihties ; and Cicero has preserved a scru- pulous proprie/i/ in representing their several characters. 1 shall not anticipate my rea- der's pleasure by prefixing any account of them in this prefac^e; 1 will cmly add, that they are such as may be met with in the present age, and such as resemble those, which may be found in our country. After what 1 have observed upon the im- portance of eloquence in the Roman repub- lic, the reader will not be surprised that our author has in their own persons brought in men tnen of the greatest dignity in the state, u^ discussin<£ the subtleties and niceties of thi^ art, and that in a manner which has ever since been confined to schools and acade- mies. But we are to look upon eloquence in the days of our author as n political accom- plishment. The lessons here delivered, are lessons of government as well as of eloquence ; and the practice here recommended, is a practice in the art of civil polity: an art by which the passions of the greatest people that ever existed were kept within the bounds of moderation, and the interests of the greatest empire that ever was founded were directed. Having thus taken a short view of the im- portance of the art which is the subject of the following sheets, as it was practised in the great exigencies of the Roman government in the times of the republic, and endeavour- ed to give my reader a sliglit idea of the cir- cumstances that concurred to render it so necessary, I come now to consider it as prac- tised at the bar, when cases of private pro- perty wxre depending. Tlie possession of private property in old Rome was perhaps more piccarious than it was in any state we read of; it depended so absolutely upon the judge, and power came to be so much engrossed by men of elo- quence, that the man who was the advocate for pro|)erty was its guardian, and generally either w^iolly, or in part, came in the end to inherit it. Hence it came that the term they b 4 tised > ■* XII Xlll used to signify a coumel, or an advocate, was a palron ; and it is from them, that to this day parties at law are called clients. Thus superioritij and depcndeucy were the conse- quences of being an advocate and a party at law ; and that advocate looked upon him- self as having a right, not to a fee, but to the whole, or a part of that property which he recovered or defended. The reader may judge from this what prodigious advantages, the practice of eioquence gave to the citizens of Rome; and how almost impossible it was, unless a man rose by arms, to get either j^oaer, reputation, or riches, but by means of this art. As to (lie eflect which eloquence had in the decision of rases respecting life or death, these but seldom happened. Capital cases did not, as now, always atlect the life of the party, but cn^ry case that aflccted his Uherltf or reputation was capital. ]\v the Roman laws this was often the consequence of civil actions ; and therefore 1 shall make no other remark upon the use that eloquenc^^ was of under this head, than that all J have said upon the former, is ap()iicable to this, and exists a fortiori. I come now to consider the relation in which the art here treated of stands to our own country and constitution, and in i)rder to do this tlie more regularly, I shall pursue the same review 1 have made of the Eouian state, but without takino; the same liberties liberties in reflecting upon either the princi- ples or the execution of our government. In England, any man who knows the least of our laws and constitution, may per- ceive that every act of the legislature, every enacting measure that binds either the whole, or a part of the public, and every decision upon the life or the liberty of a subject, must pass through an assembly of the people, ei- ther in their representative, incorporate, or collective capacity. There is no man who is endowed v;ith a share of property, without any legal disqualification, whomay not some time be a member of either the one or the other, and he is then a member of an assem- bly, in which the art of speaking, the art of reasoning, and that of judging, becomes ab- solutely necessary. The highest assembly of the commons we know of in this country, is an assembly in which eixciy measure, and every decision is subjected to free and impartial debate. In subordinate assemblies no man is precluded from delivering his sentiments with freedom upon every measure under their delibera- tion ; and the man who speaks well, if he does not always meet with success, is always sure of applause. But, in order to succeed, natural abilities require the assistance of art ; and though the knowledge of the art will never qualify a man for a speaker, without a fund of good sense, yet good sense joined to art is of infinitely greater weight and effica- S cy ■it' ii « XIV I cy than when it stands by itself, unassisted and unattended by art It is ridiculous to imagine that art imposes? any fetters upon genius ; so far from it, that she assists and reason directs it. It is owing to the study of elo(|uence being reduced to a barren technical system, that from being a useful art in government^ it ib becoming a pe- dantic jargon in schools. But the re.'^on why it has nozc' degenerated from its noble and generous station in the aits, is connected Vith the reason why the greatest part of mankind, who are not savages, are slaves. In free countries, such as old Rome once was, and ours is now, eloquence haxl objects worthy all her powers, and all her charms. She had then to ojX'rate upon the passions, the reason, aiul the sentiments of a people; but when ti/rannu abolished ////er///, those ob- jects no longer existed ; tl»ey were contract- ed into the will, the ambraon, the whim, the caprice, or the vanity of a single man; of one who, perhaps by the meanest and most scandalous means, rose to be judge and master of the lives, the liberties, and proper- ties of his fellow subjects. Such an object was unworthy the attention, unworthy the powers of eloquence; her force, which used to govern the passions of thousands, which used to spread a contagious sympathy through as- semblies of the bravest people upon earth, must now be checked, it must be supplied, it must dwindle into adulation^ it must creep XV in the strain wliich this person loves, and for which alone he has any feeling. In a free state the passions are stro?ig ; u^uler tu- ra/z/2y they must appear languid. The pre- serving this appearance of languor renders them at last, what they only seemed to be be- Jore, Eloquence by this means loses her no- blest object; she labours to raise the dead, or the insensible, she loses both her powers and their elfects; and from being a manly 6'/^m> degenerates into a senile accomplishment. it is therefore only from the precepts and practice of those who lived under free states, that we can expect to know the virtues and beauties of this divine art. But of aJl the iree states we know or read of, that of Rome was supported by the most general passion for the pubhc good ; the virtues that made her great, were radical in her constitution, inse- parable fiom the idea of her government and subsisted for some time after the spirit of liberty was extinguished, l^his may seem a paradox; it may seem romantic; but if we reflect upon any one circumstance in the ixoman polity, we shall be convinced of its truth. The passions of the Romans for their coun- ti\y led them not to be confined to the study of arms, or the immediate arts of govern- ment, m order to make her great and>ower- lul. Ihey found the means of drawing the whole circle of the arts within their favourite system of public good. None stood single and by h XVI by itself ; they all were connected with, they all tenniiuited in, the public. None were valued if confined to mere speculation; and all were despised that did not tend to en- hance the glory or power of their coun- try. Poetry, the most bewitching of all arts, was valued only as it had an inHuence upon the morals of mankind; the poetry that touched the tender passions was almost un- known in Rome till the beams of a court had melted their virtue, and softened their affections to take any impression which the art of the poet was pleased to bestow. Jr- chitectiire did not then, as afterwards, employ all the magnificence of order, and the grace of proportion, upon the buildings of private persons ; their piiblic buildings, the temples, their roads, their aciuaMJucts, and other works of public utility: such works as might be compatible with the dignity of their empire, were erected and embellished by this art. Sculpt urc^ was employed in adorning the places of public meeting, and exhibited to the views of the people the representations of personages whose virtues rendered them the most worthy objects of tlieir imitation. I might proceed to exemplify this observation in other arts: 1 shall now confine myself to that which is the subject of my present un- der taki no-. In the following sheets the reader will ea- sily perceive how much our author despises eloquence, considered as detached from the purposes ¥ II XVll purposes of civil life, and what a contempti- ble idea he raises of its speculative professors. No merit, no learning, no genius in this way, though ever so great, could rescue the pos- sessors from contempt, unless they were in a capacit}^ to apply their talents to the service of the public. Even the condition of slavery was but seldom relieved by the most consum- mate merit in this art, since that condition disqualified the person from applying it to the service of Rome. It was no wonder then if a government, which acquired so many accessions of strength and dignity from the arts, should rise to a greater pitch of power and majesty than other states wdio were deprived of tliese ad- vantages. This is a character in which the Roman polity differed from all other states; even Greece was defective in this point. Her people had an exquisite sensibilit}^ and were too apt to be bewitched by the charms of the arts, detached from civil uses. This en- chantment made them indulge a passion for retirement and leisure; and hence it was that they honoured the speculative and the sedentary. Since the revival of learning in later ages, this mighty, this important secret, has not been found out, at least has not been attended to. To this inattention it is owing, that, even in our own country, some princes, who have been the greatest patrons of liberty, have neglected or despised the patronage of the arts ; while others have but too success- fully i XVlll XIX fully employed them in lulling mankind asleep, and enehanting the world, wliile thej were prosecuting and executing the most pernicious designs against public liberty. As liistory is the great instructor of public life, we may hope to see tlie time when this excellence of the Roman o-overnment shall be added to many others, in which Great -Britain either equals or excels the Romans themselves. With regard to the art which we are now considering, this is not only j;;ac- ticable^ but necessarj/. For though a parti- cular taste in particular arts, may prevail in most countries, yet eloquence being founded on reason, which is every where the same, and operating upon th(* passions of mankind, which differ only in their deirrees of strength and weakness, its precepts are universal and eternal. Our aut lor, in hiying down the rules contained in the Ibllowino; work, de- rived advantages from helps and objects, of which we, in this country and age, are de- prived. His genius was so comprehensive, that he exhausted his subject, so that all that lias since apj>eared on this head are not im- provements, but comments upon these ex- cellent conferences. It is from them that each separate species of eloquence has been derived ; the rules contained in them are equally applicable to the practice of the se- nate, the bar, or the pulpit ; they are equally fit for the mamj or the fewi they teach how to reason as well as how to move^ and to direct the the head, as well as to touch the heart. They are solar from being impracticable, that every man of sense who speaks in public, practises them in a greater or a less degree, and they >are not founded upon any hypothesis, but re-^ duced into a system from the repeated and unvarying experience of their eifects. In -short, though they are adapted to the use of mankind in general, yet they are most useful to the people, who, of all mankind, in their government and enjoyment of their civil rights and liberties, have the nearest resem- blance to the people for whose use they were most inmiediately intended. I shall only add, while I am upon this subject, that the following pages are adapted not onlj^ for the use of a speaker, but for that of a hearer. They are fitted to enable one to judge as well as to speak. It is through them that the mist vanishes, tliat the glare disappears, wliich rhetoric knows how to throw upon truth and reason. It is from the precepts contained here, that we can trace causes from their eftects ; it is by them alone that we can fortify our ajections against the enchantment of words, and the uriiul attacks of eloquence. Through them we can be pleased without being deceived, and in one sense they contain the whole art of imposing upon others, without being imposed upon purselves. We are therefore to consider our orator as a workman, who knowing the poweis of matter w (i 'I jf i\ X3J i matter and mechanism, finished several ma- chines which produced surprising and unac- countable effects ; and this pertbrmance as an anal^^sis, or explanation of those proper- ties, and that disposition by which all this amazing power w^as exerted, ^^'e may con- sider him in another light — in that of a statesman, and this as his political confession, laying open all the art which kept the vessel of government so long from oversetting, after it had been abandoned by the wisest and most skilful of its pilots. As to my own performance in the following work, I rest its merit entirely upon the judg- ment of th€ public. My motives for at- tempting it beiore I went farther in the trans- lation of his other works, were, because it is a key to unfold the beauties that lie unob- served in the orations. Jt was with this view, next to that of the public service, that our author composed this work ; and the English reader will, after reading it, enter with double pleasure upt)n the orations. t M. TULLIUS CICERO • w. ON«JPHE CHARACTER Of\n ORATOR. i*;-|- THE FIRST CONFERENCE. CHAP. I. XVEPEATED reflections on the series of past events, Mhich memory enables me to retrace, have, my dear brother, convinced me that those men enjoy tlie higliest felicity, who, advanced to the first honours of the 'jjurest government, and adorned by the glory of their own achievements, are enabled to engage in public affairs with safe^ ty, and to withdraw with dignity to the calmness of retirement. And indeed there was a time in which I too thought, that if the multiplicity of my labours at the bar, and the toils of ambition into " PureH go-ocrmncnt.-\ The Latin has it oftima republica, by which Cicero means a constitution without any innoTations from corruption ovpoioer; the sentiment here is worthy a Roman patriot, who had seen the constitution of his country subrerted by a concurrence of both ; and we may observe, he insinuates that no honour could be employed with satisfaction to the possessor, if it was not attended with pubUc liberty. B * » / o into \vhich I was Ictl, 'after completing the career^ of publichonours, had vested towards my declhie of life, scarce anv one could have thought it unrea- sonable, that I should have then begun to indulge some repose, and to dedicate my abilities to those amiable studies in which both of us are engaged. But those pleasing hopes and schemes were de- feated by 4ieavy calamities, both pubhc and pri- vate : for 'm the very place which bade fairest to aiford shelter in case of a storm, misfortunes fell with the greatest weight, and the tempest burst with the greatest violence. This blasted my most earnest hopes, and most passionate desires of improving the sweets of retirement, by an ami- cable intercourse in cultivating those arts to which our early youth was dedicated. For in the commencement of life, I dashed upon the very wrecks of our ancient constitution; in my con- sulate I steered into the midst of those competi- tions wliich threatened to inundate the state, and ever b There is here hi the original an allusion to tlic chariot races, which bcln- frequent ami familiar to the llomans, uero extremely beautil^il in that age, but such a metaphor ^voukl appear lifeless and insipid, if we should pretend to adopt it ex- actly in a traiKsUtion. ^ Any person wlio is ever so little acquainted ^vith the Eoman history, must be sensible that Cicero entered upon life just at the period when the Roman liberty began to receive those blows that afterwards subverted it, and in which he him- self 'was a deep sharer. d This possibly alludes to his line seats, which, npon his banishn'.cnt, were sold and demolished by the interest and fury of Clodius and his party. eyer snice liave been buffeting ^those billows which, after I had repelled from my countrv, re- coiled upon myself. And though my course Jias ^ been impeded by tempestuous waves, and en- dangered by sliallow straits, I shall still steer Jn pursuit of those studies in which we have both embarked, and all the leisure which the ma- lice of my enemies, the interests of my friends, or the concerns of my country allow me, I will dedicate to composition. Besides, my dear bro- ther, I shall ^ever pay the greatest deference to your entreaties and requests, for there is no man alive for whom I have either greater regard, or greater affection. CHAP, ' Those inioxcs,'] It ;« plain that the enemies of Cicero would have found it ditTicuIt to have affected him legally, had it not been for th^ uncautious part which he appears to have acted in the Catilinarian conspiracy, in putting the friends of Catiline to death ; a conduct which, though he conceived to be warranted by necessity, was by no means agreeable to the principles of the Roman government. ^ Evcrpaij. J One cannot help observing with what art Cicero reconciles good manners to affection, and admiring a friend- ship so disinterested, yd so delicate, so full at once of respect and love. There are ic\w passages that I would sooner venture to recommend to a reader than this, since it is certain, that i\io decay of the passion of friendship, among the moderns, is in a great measure owing to that fulsome freedom, and want of deli- cacy, which prevails among friends, and which often renders the strictest connections nauseous and cold. J'he avoiding this, I am convinced, Mas the true secret that produced bucl( instances of exalted friendship among the ancients. B2 I I n ^^ CHAP. 11. And here I must recal to my memory 'a con- versation that passed many years ago, whicli I do not, I own, recollect with siilhcient distinct- ness ; but which, ni my opinion, is directly cal- culated to answer what you want to be informed of, respecting- the sc'ntiments which the greatest and most eminent orators entertained of elo- quence in general. Tor you have often expressed a wish that I should furnish you with a treatise somewhat more polished and complete on that su])ject, corresponding to the improvement I liave acquired, b}' pleading in causes so numer- ous and im|)ortant; l)ecause the undigested 'ob- servations which I collected and published when a young man, appear unworthy of the experience and cliaracter I have since attained. And you often differed from me in our conversation upon those points, as 1 maintained that elocjuence com- prehends the acquirements of tlie ablest men, while you imagined that it ought to be consider- ed as quite distinct from the refinements of science, and as founded solely in natural capa- city, improved by practice. I own, indeed, I liave been frequently at a loss to account, when contemplating 8 yicoircersation.'] So much has been said by our best writers in cominendalion ol' the manner of treating a subject by dia- logue, that it is needless to insist upon its uses here, any farther than to observe, that this subject particularly required to be treated in this manner ; since Cicero thereby avoided that dog- matical air, which his treating this subject must otherwise have given him. contemplating the greatest and ablest men, Nvhy fewer have excelled in eloquence than in any other attainment. For to whatever science you direct your attention, you shall find that many ]iave distinguished themselves, not only in the or- dinary arts, but in those which require almost tlie greatest compass of genius. For is tliere a man existin:» ^(P ^'1 I very few of accomplished orators may be pro- duced. In our own days, or in the recollection of our ancestors, many have risen with wisdom and abilities equal to the government and direc- tion of a state, while for a long period not a sin- gle orator : and the number of those who have excelled as fine speakers, can scarcely equal the ages that have passed us. But lest it should be said, that eloquence oiight rather to be compared with those attainments which lie within the wide and varied circle of the arts and sciences, than with the skill of a general, or the wisdom of a se- nator, let the person who makes this objection review those very attainments; let him survey those who have made a figure in them ; then may he easily form a judgment how many have been distinguished by those, and how few ever have been, or ever can be by eloquence. CHAP. III. For you have surely observed, that what is termed by the (Greeks Puilosopuv, is thought by the most learned men to be, as it were, the founder and parent of the fine arts ; and it is hard to say how many men, learned, richly and variously endowed in their several professions, have appeared in this science ; men, who have not confined themselves to a single province, but either cy, and watchful of every opportunity to shake off, or at least lessen their dependanoe on the senate. The experience of after-ages pro?ed that this jealousy was but too well founded. either by an indefatigable pursuit of '^first princi- ples, or tlie clearness of their reasonino- have mastered the whole compass of knuwlecUn.*. We all know how dark, how perplexed, how compli- cated, and how subtile is the study of what we call the Mathematics; yet so many great men have appeared in this department, that no man seems to have cultivated it in good earnestness, without succeeding in the attempt. Was there ever 'a musician, was there ever a professor of what ^^ First principles ] The terras here used by our author are extremely expressive in the Latin, but caniiotbcara translation into English, rervesfigiftiuni sdeutice can only signify rea- soning from effects to first causes, the noblest philosophy, known to the ancients, and but little aUended to among the moderns, who, till lately, for many ages were bewildered in the jargon of favourite systems. ^ A musician.'] As no opinion upon our author can have equal weight with that of Quintilian, whose Institutes are in- deed the superstructure of that foundation which Cicero has so well laid down in this treatise, I shall take the liberty to transcribe into English a passage or two from him, which proves what opinion the ancients had of music ; '^ Every one " knows, that in former ages this art was not only studied, " but adored, and its professors were esteemed prophets and ^' sages. Were not Orpheus and Linus (to name no morr)' " believed to be descended of the gods ? And it is told of the ^' first of these, that he not only qnieted and charmed the " passions of men and the fury of wild beasts, but even made " the very stones and woods dance after him by the power of <* his music. Timagcncs says, that music is the most ancient '' of all arts. The most famous poets are likewise of the same ^' opinion ; for they introduce musicians at the feasts of kings, ^' singing the praises of the gods and heroes. Thus in Virgil, " Jopas is singing Enantem Lumiw, SoUsque Labores^ by i^ 4 To dhclpUne.-] The reader fflay now perceive, that, irt Cicero-3 opinion, there is a great difference betwixt a Kelt, spoken man an an orator. I own that I conceive a Tery Jiigh opinion of the eloquence of those brave Romans who must have spoke good sense and manly sentiments, before eloquence became an art, and in some measure a trade. Quintilian, however, has admirably well explained this point. " Do not even the bees extract that fragrant taste which honey alone can impart to human sense, from very different "flowers and juices? Is there any wonder that eloquence (which is the greatest gift heaven hasgiven to men) requires «' many arts to perfect it ? and though they do not all appear in an oration, or seem to be of any use, they nevertheless afford an inward supply of strength, and are silently felt in the mmd ; '.without these a man mat) be eloquent, but I want " to form an orator; and none can be said to have all the re- " quisite?, while the smallest thing is wanting." Inst Oral "L.I. Cap. 7. 'I 12 of the causes of every kind, induced tliem to unite with theory, which they had attained hy study, that practice which far surpassed in efii- cacy all the rules prescribed by their ablest masters. At that time, likewise, as now. the irreatest rewards were annexed to tlie profession of this art, with regard to popularity, interest, and honour; and the "capacities of Romans, as we may jud'^ to recruit his spl it Tn^ .h^n f'"' ^"^^^^^ who had been ifis AH ^ ^"'"^"' ^^"^^*«s> •onius, .be CO ! eTf-'S"" ™" '""='" ■'"' his particular S" ^ '"' ^" P"^'*^^ ^^^ parti T '' '" P'^^^te life, were of the party. Pw^o youn^ o-emlempn ?,,f- . nions of D,usu, an^dC ^d btT ""'^" of those times, a, likelv to fiM H T'"' ™'" public affair? whir , h , '"' '"'' '^'' ''^'^ ^^ to tl,at place' ''p'" ''^^' 7^^^'«"ed their retiring this conveTa'tion "''' '" ''''''' '^'' ^"™ff -ade wi h a Sn' ^T^ '' "''^^' ^•^'-^ -- "o-"tt^tr;^f^^^^^^^ hanging ove kit]} .% "^ ""' ^"''^^^^ '^ ^e o Soxer 't at that distance of time. But duced those ero^t ,.« this •■■g Uught at Kc^ne re f ""'""'"'"' of eloquence be. the s° conversation had made upon theirl f r ^'' sus turned the discourse upon th studv f ?" quince, that he introduml what 1 hL°. '" by observing, that Sulpicius Ind Cott r ? '"^ appear so much to re,.dre i str ttn . "'' s-nce they had already attained n i P'"'' ' of perfection, as not ^ Tfj^l Z %'''''' age, but to rival speakers'of moTe ' rie^ r'^'i r'per years; nor indeed, continued 1^^!? ceue any thing n.ore excellent than to be i, k' eloquence to captivate the affectfon. 1 t^ understandings, and direct orSi^T 'n' Peacer. settled gover;:;^^^^^ ^-orthyofadn,iration^thanthar "T ''' '""""^ niten.ultitude,onemn Vetrf with very, few, should be caoabTe nf.?"-^"""'"" Nature has put in every ma f:;?^"? ^^'^^^ " any thmg impart such exouisite 1 " ''^'' ears and undirstandino- a ^ - T"'' '' '^^ sentiments give di. i.;'.. . ^"'"^ '^ ''^'''^' -.-ci:afrt\r:t:!e.::eTr'""- «'-»icl direct the inclination's of tie pe:i"r consc.ences of Judge. ,nd the 4^:7lV,':! nates ? 20 nates? Can, moreover, any thing be deemed so worthy of a generous and patriotic prince, as to reUeve the suppHant, to raise the fallen, to com- municate happiness, to avert danger, and to save a* fellow citizen from exile ? Can any thing be 50 necessary as to be furnished at all times with those arms, which, while they defend yourself, serve to attack the profligate, or redress any in- sult to your own character? But without always dwelling upon the forum, the benches, the ros- tra, and the senate ; can any thing in retirement from business be more entertaining, more conso- nant to polished manners, than a language culti- vated and sprightly on every subject ? For this is the characteristic of our nature, which distin- guishes us from brutes, that wc have a social in- tercourse with one another, and are able to con- vey our ideas by speech. Must not every man then prefer this attainment, and own that to ex- cel mankind themselves in that quality which raises them above the brutes, ought to be his principal study ? But that I may mention the chief point of all, what other power could have been effectual, either to collect the dispersed in- dividuals of mankind into one community, or to bring them from savage barbarous life, to a so- cial regulated intercourse ; or, after states were founded, •^ The original is rttinere homines in civitatcy see oration for Milo, § 3. where be applies the same expression to his circum- stances. The Romans were very delicate with regard to men. tioniftg punishments, especially those that were capital, and if posiiblo softened the terms. !« 21 founded, to enact laws to govern them, or to ad- minister justice for their protection ? To sum up in one word a subject almost boundless, I lay it down as a maxim, that upon the prudence and abilities of an accomplished orator, rests not only his own dignity, but the welfare of individuals without number, and even whole communities. Proceed therefore, my young friends, and em- ploy the study in which you are engaged to your own honour, to the advantage of your friends, and the service of your country. CHAP. IX. To this Sca3vola replied, with his usual courtesy, In many things I agree with Crassus; far be it from me to iir.pair the credit and honour of the profession of either my father-in-law, Lselius, or my son-in-law, Crassus; but, my friend, it is with some difficulty that I can admit two things you have advanced. The first is, that states were originally constituted, and have been often"" preserved by orators; the other is, that setting aside the forum, the public assemblies, the courts of justice and the senate house, you supposed an orator to be accomplished in every kind of elo- ^ quence, and all the duties of society. Will any man pretend, that when mankind in early ages roved on mountains and forests, they were induced to associate not by the counsels of sages, but that the harangues of orators softened them into humanity, and brought them to live within C 3 towns ^ «1 • •it I m 2£ tdwn« and walls?' Or, indeed, that other wise regulations, either in establishing or preserving states, were owing to those who spoke with ease and elegance, and not to the wise and powerful ? Do you indeed imagine 'Romulus assembled his shepherds and mixed multitude, executed the scheme of the Sabine marriages, and repelled the power of the neighbouring states by his elo- quence, and not by his foresight and wisdom ? But f trther, what say you of Numa Pompilius, what of Servius Tullius, what of our other kmgs, who made many wise regulations in settling this state, is there the least trace remaining of their eloquence r Nay, when monarchy was abolish- ed, which I will venture to say was accomplished by the resolution, and not the eloquence of "L. Brutus ; is it not manifest that all th>s great things performed afterwards, were full of wise conduct, but void of all eloquence ? Were I inclined to produce instances in our own history, and in that of other states, I could undertake to point out more examples in which men of the greatest elo- quence * Rov.'ulus.'] Every body who is in the least acquainted vith the Roman history, knows that of this father of the Ro- man state ; we may only by the bye observe^, that the affairs of the infancy of their city were not looked upon as fabulous in Cicero's days, whatever they have been since. « L. Brutus.] Though this great man was no orator, yet, if we may believe Livy, he was a very eloquent person. There is, however, great reason to be of Scacvola's sentiments here, for it is probable that the fine speeches put in the mouths of his he- roc s, are all owing to the fruitful vein of the historian. \ *3 xX qucnce have been prejudicial, than all that can be brought of their having been serviceable, to their country. But not to mention others, the two most eloquent men I ever heard, except Crasstis, you and my friend, were, in my opinion,"^ Tiberius and C. Sempronii, whose father was wise and dig- nified, but far from eloquent; and who, upon seve- ral occasions, especially when censor, did the most important services to his country; yet this man 'transferred the sons of freed-men into the city tribes, not by a correct flow of eloquence, but by a nod, or a single word ; which, unless he had accomplished, that constitution, of which we now possess only the shadow, had completely- disappeared. But his eloquent sons, formed to the art of speaking by all the advantages of na- ture and learning, though they entered upon a government, rendered glorious both by the con- duct of their father, and the courage of our an- cestors, ruined the commonwealth by that elo- quence, which, according to you, is best able to govern states. CHAP. ^ Tiberius and C. Sempronii.] Our author means the cele- brated T. and C. Gracchi, whose great abilities, integrity, and eloquence, have not had the good fortune to be transmitted to posterity in that favourable light, which, to any person who can without prejudice reflect upon the true maxims of Roman liberty, they must appear in. * Transferred^ &c.] This had been beferc effected with re- gard to four city tribes, and it was an excellent expedient to balance the ambition of the people, C4 V M !24 CHAP. X. Farther, need I to mention the institutions and customs of our ancestors ? Or the auspices over which you and I, Crassus, preside, to the great service of our country ? Need I to men- tion our rites and ceremonies ; or that jurispru- dence that has been, without the aid of elo- quence, long in our family ; was that discovered, was it known, was it ever so much as touched upon by the tribe of orators ? Let me add, that I knew Scrvius Galba, whose eloquence was di- vine, Marcus iEmilius Porcina, and Cn. Carbo himself, whom you, when but a very young man, surpassed, were both unacquainted with our con- stitution, unskilled in the institutions of our an- cestors, and but novices in the civil law ; and even the orators of the present age are strangers to the laws of the twelve tables, excepting you, Crassus, who, led by curiosity, rather than any province annexed to eloquence, studied the civil law under me, though it is to their shame I say so. As to the liberty you assumed in the latter part of your speech, as if an orator could never be at a loss to bear a very considerable share in discus- sing every argument that may fall in his way, were we not upon your own territories I should not suffer it, but put myself at the head of a nu- merous body, who would certainly either bring'' au y /In action,'] The original is interdicfo tecum cenlenderety which is, that they would bring the prctor's decree against biro. 25 an action against you, or^ seize you as an intruder upon a province, to which you have no claim. For in the first place, the disciples of Pythagoras and Democritus would fall upon you ; and the other philosophers in their several ways; and men of great weight and dignity would go to law with you, and, in that case, you must have a very 'unequal chance for success. Besides, a whole corps of philosophers, with Socrates at their head, would assail you, urging that you had never studied ; nay, that you had not even attempted to enquire about what is morally good or bad in human conduct, the passions of the mind, or the end of living; and after they had thus attacked you in a body, you must then enter the list with each particular sect amongst them. The Vademicians would oppose you, and deny that you knew one single proposition you advanced. Our countrymen, 'the Stoics, would * Seize you as an intruder.'^ There is another civil law term here; manum conserere was the form of challenging property ; the person saying at the same time meum est. * Unequal chance.^ Orig, justo sacramento contendere non li^ cerct. Contendere sacramcnto was when both parties put a sum of money into the hands of the priest ; upon the decisian of the cause the loser to forfeit his deposit to sacred uses, and the other to hare his returned. Jusium sacramentum was when the case was so doubtful, it was hard to say who would be gainer. « *• Academicians.'] They were generally scep ) : '^s^^?^'^pss^?is®^ilS 28 him from all knowledge of the higher scenes of life, degrading and pinning him down to liard labour in courts of justice and petty cabals. But I neither agreed with them, nor with Phito him- self, who first advanced those opinions, and far surpassed them in strength and elegance of lan- guage. I was then reading his Gorgias with Charmades at Athens ; a book in which I could not help admiring the author, who in ridiculing orators, appears to be a complete orator himself. For disputes about words have long perplexed the petty wits of Greece, who are far more con- tentious for victory than for truth. But if it were allowed that the only qualifications of an orator is to speak with copiousness at the bar on any point of justice, yet, with this limitation, his attainments must be great and various : for even in treating those subjects with accuracy and clearness, he must be possessed of great experi- ence in civil affairs, with an insight into our sta- tutes, customs, and laws ; he must likewise be a competent judge of human nature and manners; and the man who is master of all'thesc, without which even the smallest point that occurs cannot be rightly maintained, what can such a man be said to want in the knowledge of the most im- portant affairs ? But admitting that the province of eloquence extends not beyond an accurate, po- lished and copious style, let me ask you how can even these requisites of composition be attained without that kind of knowledge which you deny to it r For eloquence can never exhibit all its force, 29 force, but where tl,e orator is a complete niaster of the subject. Therefore if Democritus. theT mous natural philosopher, spoke so grac;fuUy as 1 .s sa>cl. and as I admit he did, his subject in- deed was natural philosophy, but it was 4e art of oratory that gave the embellishment to his d.scourse And if Plato, as I must allow, dis- coursed d.v.nely upon points the most remote trom poht.cal disquisitions; if Aristotle, if Theo- phrastus, if Carneades wrote with propriety and beauty o„ the several subjects they discussed ; those subjects belonged to distinct arts • ye the.r method of handling them was peculiar'to the faculty, the merits of which we are now exa- •"■nmg. As a proof of that, wc know that others have spoken without interest and without effect upon those very points; for instance, Chrysippus who .s sa.d to be a man of the greatest pen't^: t..n; and yet was not the less complete phibso- 'iicd CHAP. xir. W„E„K the*Jic-s the difference, or how can you discern the i^i„g and copious eloquence^f rheartof„„or^\.^ Cicero would never luTc adranc«l N ■' ^ I \ ^ 30 those 1 have named from the feebleness of such as are destitute of this command and propriety of expression ? In short, there is one thing which the mastei's of the art of speaking claim as pecu- liar to themselves ; a style graceful, adorned, and distinguished by certain masterly touches, and ingenious polish. Yet all this beauty of language, if the subject itself is not thoroughly understood and comprehended by the speaker, must be either empty or ridiculous : for what can look more like a madman than to pour out an empty jingle of words, let them be ever so beau- tiful or well chosen, if they are connected by no method or meaning ? If, therefore, an orator, in any art and branch of science, should study a subject with as much application as he would a Ghent's cause, he would deliver himself with more ' propriety and elegance than even the in- ventor and artist himself could be able to do. For if one should alhrm that certain discussions are peculiar to orators, and that theijaiinowledgc of some points is confined within thF^le of the forum, I will own indeed that those of our pro- fession are most conversant in debates of this kind, « Proprieti/ and elegance.'] This in one sense may be true, but if we regard the ends of speaking, which are to move and persuade, we shall find that the true way to succeed is to fee). A man who is himself deeply interested in an event will, with equal capacity and no study, make greater impressions before a judging assembly than another with all the application and art of an orator that Cicero was ever able to lay down. The reader will perceive that I all along take it for granted, that Cic«roin the person of Crassusgivei ushis own sentiments. 31 kind, but in respect even to tbese there are many thmgs which the professors of rljetoric neither teach nor understand. For who does not know that the prmcipal force of eloquence consists in awakenmg the soul to anger, to hatred, to grief --^ or to recal her from these affections to gentle- ness and pity ? This arbitrary command of the passions can never be effected, but by one who has a thorough knowledge of mankind, the whole extent of the human faculties, and those motives which impel or check the soul. Yet all this ap- pears to be the province of philosophy, and, were an orator to be guided by me, he w^ould never deny this ; but after he has granted them tins knowledge, whicli, is the sole end of their study, let him assume to himself the method of treating it, without which the knowledge itself cannot exist. For, as I liave often said, the province of an orator is to use a language that is proper, graceful, and suited to the affections and understandings of mankind. CHAP. XIII. I OWN that Aristotle and Tlieophrastus have treated of those matters ; but observe, Scjevola, that this is in favour of my position. For I do not borrow from them wiiat is in common to philosophy and eloquence ; but they own that all their disputations upon these points belong to orators. For this reason, they describe their other works under denominations borrowed from 4 the / • 32 the several arts they treat of, but they call these books of rhetoric. When, therefore, as it often happens in the course of their publications, they speak of the immortal gods, of piety, of concord, of equity, of friendship, of laws, of society, of nature, of nations, of temperance, of magnani- mity, and, in a word, of all the moral duties, the academies and the schools cf philosophers ex- claim, all to a man, that all these subjects be- long to them, and by no means to the orator. 1 shall not deny them the privilege they assume of discussing, in obscurity, all these subjects; yet I aihrm that tlie orator dilates with perspi- cuity and elegance on those points which they dispute with barren and inanimate frigidity. I conversed on these topics with the philosophers Avho then flourished in Athens, at the instigation of my friend M. Marcellus, who was then a very young man, ardently devoted to these studies, but who is now curule aedile, and who, were it not for the games now celebrating, would have made one of our company. In respect to the enacting of laws ; to the questions of peace and war, of forming alliances, imposing taxes, and of political subordination, let the Greeks, if they please, alledge that Lycurgus or Solon, whom, by the way, I look upon as accomplished ora- tors, were much better skilled in these subjects than Hyperidcs or Demosthenes, who excelled all others in the art of speaking; or let them prefer our decemviri who compiled the twelve tables, and who certainly were men of sagacity, tp m^^ T*,*-** / V'' 33 io Servius Galba, or your father-in-laxv, Caius La^Iuis, to whom the palm of eloquence is uni- versally allou-ed. For I will never deny that 1 there are certain arts peculiar to those who have made it tJie.r whole study and pursuit, but I call h.m the finished and accomplished orator, who can speak, on every subject, with copiousness, accuracy, and \'ariety. CHAP. XIV. PoK very often, in those causes which are uni- versally allowed to be within the province of an orator, there is something to be derived, not from the practice of the bar, which is the only know- ledge you allow to public speakers, but from some more abstruse science. Let me ask vou if a man can plead either for or against a 4neral without knowing military affairs,^nd often with- out being acquainted with the situation of mari- tmie and mland countries ? Can he speak be- fore the people either for enacting or forbiddino- a law? or can he talk of civil polity in general- in a senate, without the deepest insight and sa- gacity with regard to civil affairs ? or can he apply that predominant effect of eloquence in in- flaming or extinguishing the affections and emo- tions of the soul, without attentively surveyino- aU those causes which are explained by thos^ \vho liave treated on moral and natural philoso- phy^ I know not whether what I advance is -J iikely to meet your approbation, but I hesitate ^ not i' -4 # 34 not to speak my sentiments. Tlie knowledge of physics, mathematics, and of tlie other arts, which you, some time ago, laid down as appro- priated to their several professions, belong to those who profess them ; but if a man wants to explain those very arts, he is obliged to have re- course to eloquence. For admitting that the fa- mous Philo, the architect, who built ^ the arse- nal at Athens, gave the people a very eloquent account of his work, yet we must not suppose that this was owing to the art of architecture, but of eloquence. Nor, if Antonius here were to plead for ' liermodorus, in regard to the construction of ships, after he had made him- self master of his subject, can we imagine that he would not be able to talk of it with perspicuity and elegance, though an occupation foreign to his own ? Or that Asclepiades, who was both my friend and physician, and is more eloquent than any other of that faculty, was indebted for his graceful way of speaking to the study, not of eloquence, but of physic. For this reason the declaration of Socrates was rather plausible than true, that every man is sufficiently eloquent on subjects of which he has a thorough knowledge, lie' had been nearer the truth had he said, that as h tells N Thf arsetinl.'l Pliny, lib. 7. speaks of thh arsenal, and us that it was so commodious, and so large, that a thou- sand ships might have boen drawn up to it, and might haro lain dry, without being exposed to the injuries of the weather, or the seas. » Hgrtnoflorus.'] H« was a famous ship carpenter. 35 as no man can be eloquent upon a subject on which he IS ignorant, so no man, however con- versant with his subject, can ever talk eloquent- ly upon that subject, if he is ignorant how to torm and polish his discourse. CHAP. XV. If, then, a comprehensive definition of an ora- tor were to be given, I would say that the speaker, who justly claims this respectable name, IS he who, upon aX.subjects, shall be able to deliver h.s sentiments with accuracy, perspicu- ousness, grace, and fluency, accompanied with / a certain dignity of action. But if any one should think that I speak too indefinitely when I say upon all subjects, let him, as far as he thinks proper, limit the definition ; yet if an orator is ignorant of the properties.of other arts and studies, and shall only retain wkat is appro, pnated to debates and the practice of the bar • 1 he IS to speak upon subjects belonging to those arts ; I maintain that this orator will sjeak much better, after he is instructed in them by the respective professors of each, than even those tnend Sulj^icius here to speak on military af- jairs, b:^ would first apply for instruction to my i^ini^man Caius Marius, and then he could talk <^t It so as to seem, even to Caius Marius, al- most to understand the subject better than him- self. Suppose the point of discussion to be D2 civil # civil law ; he would then apply fo' you, anrt, notwithstanding all your skill and experience in that study, excel you in those very subjects which he learned of yoii. Should a cause occur, in which he must make some strictures on the nature and vices of mankind, on the passions, on temperance, chastity, sorrow, or death; per- haps if he sees occasion, (though an orator should know those things), he may confer with that learned philosopher Sextus Pompcius. He will, at least, be able to surpass, in eloquence the person, whoever he may be, that furnished him the instruction. But if my opinion may be followed, since philosophy is divided into three branches, natural, argumentative, and moral, let us indulge ourselves so far as to abandon the two first ; but unless we adhere to the third, ^vhich has still been the character of eloquence, we leave nothing to an orator in which he can shine. THkt branch of philosophy, therefore, which regards the conduct and morals of man- kind, must be completely understood by an orator; and though he does not study the other branches, yet, if he has occasion, he will be able to embellish them by his eloquence, providea they arc communicated and dehvered to him/ GHAP. XVL Fo R if it is certaifi ariiong the learned that ''Ara:^ tus, a man quite ignorant of astronomyi treated of ^ Jratus.'] thii poet was a Sicilian patronized by Antigo- '' • ^ ST ,of the heavens and the constellations in most beautiful and charming numbers; ifNIcandar of Colophon, a person very remote 'from rural scenes, wrote in tlie true genius of poetry, and not in a style of rusticity, what should hinder but that an orator should treat those points, which he may study for a particular purpose, with the greatest eloquence ? For poetry has a near affinity to eloquence ; the poet is indeed a Jittle more confined to numbers, but then he can take greater liberties in the choice of his words, and in most of the arts of embellishment he is on an equality witli, or at least not much infe- rior to, the orator. ^In one respect I will ven- ture to say tliey are nearly the same; for the ora- tor prescribe^ no bounds or limitations to his province, nus, King of Macedon, and cofcmporary with Menandcrand Callimachus. Cicero was so much In love with his writings, that he translated his PhaMiqmcna, some part of which transla- tion is now extant. As to the doctrine which our author here lays down, there js nothing more certain than that a poet may describe an art without studying it, or particularly applying to it. But I am afraid it will be found there is a diflcrencc betwixt writing in verse, where a very superficial knowledge is required to make a very fine episode ; and speaking of them in prose, where it is expected all the terms made use of are to be clearly laid down, and in case of any difficulty or reply they must be ex- plained, which can never be done without the speaker being a perfect master of his subject. ^ T?i one respect, 2 This is true with regard to the principles ©f eloquence laid down and practised by Cicero ; but certainly it does not hold as to the Greek manner, where truth alone is the object, or at least appears to be no. . D3 ■'!l' >h •• ' J^ ~.'^' i'^-'W-'H^ -^1 38 province, so as to confine him from using the same liberty, and freedom of ranging, as he pleases. Why then, my friend, should you say, that were you not upon my territories you would not have borne with me for affirmiuG: that an orator ought to be a complete master of elo- quence and all liberal knowledge ? I should not, indeed, have mentioned it, did I imagine myself to be such a person as I describe. But as C. Lucilius, a man of letters and good breeding, but with whom you are displeased, and for this rea- son less intimate with me than he conld wish, used frequently to say, (and I entirely agree with him) that no man ought to be accounted an orator, who was not thoroughly accomplished in all those arts that become a gentleman ; and though it might not be proper on all occasions to display our knowledge of them, yet it should always appear that we are not strangers to them. For instance, a man who plays at tennis, though while he plays he does not use the very airs that he learned at the fencing school, yet we can easily perceive from his movements whe- ther he has learned them. From the rude draught, in which a particular piece is sketched, it may easily be discovered, though unconnect- ed with painting, whether or not the author can paint. Thus, in the very speeches delivered be- fore judges, in assemblies, and senates, though the speaker does not make any immediate appli- cation of those arts, yet it is easily discern^ whether he is a pedantic declaimer, or trained to eloquence N> 39 eloquence by all the arts that belong to a liberal education. CHAP. XVII. As you so well illustrate, by your own talents, the art for which you contend, replied Sc^vola, smiling, I will, to use your own allusion, wrestle with vou no longer. You agree with me as to those things which in my opinion do not belong to an orator, yet, I know not how, you have in a manner retorted your argument, so as to prove them the i)roperties of eloquence. After 1 came to Rhodes, when I w^as praetor, and communed on what I had learned from Pana3tius, with Apol- lonius, the celebrated master of his profession ; he indeed, as usual, with affected contempt, ridi- culed philosophy, and said a great many things in which there was more wit than wisdom ; but you have formed your argument so as not to des- pise any art or profession, but pronounced them all the attendants or handmaids of eloquence. Should any one man be master of them all, and to these accomplishments join that of "^ complete orator, "» A complete orator,'] Our author's inordinate passion for praise, made him seize every opportunity of drawing his own picture as an orator ; it would appear from this and many other passages, in a few pages following, that he imagined it must have a likeness, if all the fine things that he could form iu imagination were crowded into it ; that it was impossible to overdo in this resjxjct, and that the more beautiful it was it must bear the stronger resemblance, D4 40 orator, I must confess he would be an extraordi- nary character and deserving of high admira- tion. But if at any time such a character exist- ed, or can hereafter exist, you are tlic person who, in my opinion, and in that of all mankind, have realised it, and surpassed all other orators (whom I wish not to offend) in the glory of elo- quence. But though you want nothing that can qualify you either as a speaker or a senator, yet give me leave to say, after all, that you are not master of all that knowledge to the extent which you require in an orator ; let us therefore exa- mine whether you do not require more than ei- ther the nature of the thing, or truth itself, can admit of Let me put you in mind, says Crassus here, that I did not talk of my own accomplishments, but of those of an orator. For what could I learn or know ? I who entered upon action be- fore I entered upon my studies ! I, who was even worn out by my application to the business of the forum, of ambition, of my country, of my friends, before I was capable to suspect I should be employed iij those weighty points ! But if you have so favourable an opinion of me, to whom you are so kind as to allow some degree of capa- ^i^y» (y^t still I was deprived of the opportuni- ties of study, of quiet, and, if I must say it, of that ardent thirst for knowledge that is so ne- cessary,) what will be your opinion of a man who has improved more genius than I possess, with those qualifications that I have never attained ? How > #1 41 How great, how complete ^n orator, must such a jman be ! CHAP. xvni. You, answers Antonius, are yourself, Crassus, a proof of what you advance ; and I make no doubt but a person would be a much more powerful speaker, if he possessed all the treasures of knowledge, m nature and in the arts. But, in the first place, that is almost impracticable, espe- cially considering our profession and business ; and then it is to be apprehezided that the pursuit of knowledge so comprehensive would preclude the practice of pleading with fluency in the fo- rum, or before the people. For, to m,e, the per- sons above mentioned seem to have possessed a different kind of eloquence, though it must be allowed that they spoke with great beauty and energy upon natural or moral subjects. Their manner of discoursing had somewhat in it that was elegant and sprightly ; but then it was more proper for an exercise at school, or a college, than for our crowded assemblies and forum. For I myself, who began very late in life to study Greek, and then attained only to a smatterino- of it, after I had come to Athens as proconsul, in ^y road to Cilicia, was detained there a good many days, because the "seas were then dano-er- ous. " S€as xverc dangerous.'} In the original tberc is various 3 ous. As I had every clay along with me very learned men, most of whom were the same with those you lately mentioned, and who supposing, like you, I know not on what authority, that I was frequently concerned in some causes of conse- quence, used, each in his own way, to dehate upon the duty and qualifications of an orator. Some of them, such as Mnesarchus, affirmed, that those, whom we term orators, were men, who, by fre- quent practice, acquired only a correct volubility of speech : but that no man, unless he is a philo- sopher, can be an orator; that eloquence itself, which is the same thing with knowing how to speak well, is a talent ; that the man who pos- sesses one faculty, possesses all other faculties ; and that all faculties are in their own nature equal ; hence, said they, the man who is elo- quent possesses every faculty, therefore an orator is the same with a philosopher. But this crabbed, insipid reasoning was very disagreeable to our notions. Yet Charmades treated those subjects in a much more diffuse manner; not that he w'ouUl speak his own sense of the matter, for it is a custom hereditary in the academy to be eter- nally disputing ; but the drift of all his discourse was to prove, that they who are termed rhetori- cians, and they who teach the art of speaking, cannot possess any one excellency, or ever attain to the smallest share of eloquence, unless they liave studied the discoveries of philosophy. CHAP. readings, and the passage may be translated cither as I have, or waiting for the opportuniti/ of a ship. k . 43 CHAR XIX. They were opposed by some eloquent Athe- nians, men well versed both in law and politics, amongst whom was Menedemus, who latelv was at Rome and my guest. This person, who was naturally quick, was attacked by anotlier richly endued with learning and experience, to a prodi- gious variety and extent, who maintained that there was a certain knowledge requisite to judge right with regard to the establishment and regu- lation of civil societies. He likewise insisted that all the branches of knowledge must be derived from philosophy ; that all the constitutions of go- vernment, religion, education, justice, patience, temperance, moderation, and the other virtues, without which states cannot subsist, or if they could, cannot be well regulated, were never to be found in their pamphlets. But if those teachers of rhetoric did comprehend within their own art the force of these important subjects, he asked why their books were filled* with ex- ordiums, epilogues, and other puerilities, as he called them ; maintaining that there is not a tittle to be found in their compositions about the modelling of states, the composing of laws, about ^ \. \ r # #. 49 judo-ment founded on the capacities which I dis- cern amongst my countrymen, I doubt not, but some time or other a person will appear, who, by a closer application, with more abundant leisure, with parts more solid and cultivated, with dili- gence more persevering and patient, shall devote himself to instruction and composition more than it was in my power to do ; shall realise the ^cha- racter we now form of a perfect orator, and be esteemed with justice not only correct but elo- quent. intention of the author in this, and many other fine passages is doubtful. The first hint I would take notice of in the forego- ing lines is dux iuquidi turbidus Advice. The reader may compare this with the circumstances which we are told by Plu- tarch of Cicero ; that this dread of the seas was the occasion of his abandoning his wise and generous resolution to go over to Brutus in Macedonia. That this dread farther prevailed upon him to think of the mean-^pirited design of throwing himself upon the clemency of Octavius. Farther, that in one night he was of twenty minds, and quite distracted with irre- solution ; I say, if a reader will compare all these circumstances, he will find very little room to doubt that Horace, in drawing this portrait, and marking it so strongly, had our author ia his eye. 1 he next passage I would take notice of, is the expression, hac arte Pollux^ &c. which I am afraid glances at our author's trusting so much to his qualifications in this art for immor- tality. Nay, I will venture to say, that to a man who knows the beautie> of Horace, and with what propriety he introduces every expression, it will appear that Horace could not but have intended an allusion to a particular character. I could say a great deal more to support what I have here thrown out, but perhaps I^ought to make an apology for having saicj 30 much. E 50* quent ]VIy friend Crassus is such a character in my judgment, or if there is a person of equal ge- nius, but with greater practice in liearing, read- ing, or writing, I own that I could enlarge a lit- tle more still on such a rnaji's praise. Mere Sul- picius interrupted : It is, said he, an exceeding agreeable disappointment, both to Cot ta and me, that our discourse has taken this turn ; it gave us great pleasure while we were comini>' here, to think that if you should enter with us even upon other subjects, yet still we should be able to collect somewhat, from what j'ou said, as wor- thy of being remembered ; but we hardly pre- sumed to hope that you would enter on this im- portant sul)ject of eloquence, whether you give it the name of study, art, or faculty. For though ever since mv entrance on life, 1 felt the warmest admiration for you both, and even love for Crassus, and though I never left his company, all I could do by myself, all my repeated endea- vours by means of Drusus, could never draw a word from him upon the power and province of orators. But I must beso just toyou, Antonius, as to own that, upon this head, you never dis- appointed me, but always complied with my earnest requests, to be instructed l)y you in regard to your peculiar manner of speaking. But now as both of you have cleared the entrance to these very objects which wc were pursuing, and as Crassus liimself fust started the discourse, in- dulge us with a minute detail of your own senti- ments upon eloquence in general, which, if you grant SI grant us, we shall be infinitely obhged, Crassus, to your instruction at Tusculanum, and prefer this your rural recreation to the academy at Ly- jceum. CHAP. XXIL Indeed, Sulpicius, answers the other, we must apply for this to Antonius, who is both able, and, as you told me just now, is used to answer your importunities; for you have yourself just ac- knowledged that I always dechned to converse upon the subject, in opposition even to your own earnest requests. This I did, not from any mo- tive of pride or unkindness, nor from any unwillingness to oblige you in your curiosity, which is highly proper and laudable, especially as I knew that nature had peculiarly formed and qualified you for an orator ; but, my refusal, I assure you, proceeded from my entire unac- quaintance with the principles of this pretended art. Since, answered Cotta, we have surmounted our greatest difficulty, which was to prevail upon you,''Crassus, to speak at all upon this subject, it wiu'be our fault mnv if you get off from us with- out explaming every thing wc want to know. 1 hen 1 Principles of this prctaukd arQ Eamm rerum qua> quasi traduntur in arte, say the common editions; quis quasi w arte traduntur, says Dr. Pearce's, and to be sure he is right; for the genius of the language will not suffer the first order of the words to admit of what Cicero certainly meant, as I have translated it. '^ 2 i 69 Then, says Crassus, as we used to write in our 'administrations, I will speak to what I KNOW, AND WHAT 1 CAN. Is tllCrC a HiaU here, answered the other, tliat has the assurance to require to know, or to do, any thing* that is beyond your power or knowledge ? M'ell, replies Crassus, reserving to myself the plea of inahi- lity, where I am really unable, I am at your ser- vice in answering all the questions you sliall think fit to propose. Then, said Sulpicius, to begin, we recjuire that you give your opinion with regard to those points that Antonius some time since has started : do you think that eloquence can properly he called an akt ? What! replied Crassus, the question you propose is a n.ere quibble, such as is usually discussed by the tri- fling loquacious, though perhaps learned and cultivated wits of Greece. When did I give you reason to conclude that I respected, or ra- ther did not hold in contempt, the assurance of those men, wlio, when they had placed them- selves in the chair of oratory, demanded, in a crowded assembly, 'rvhethcr any man had any question to discuss ? This is a practice said to be ' Administraiions,'] In the orif^inat cretionibu^, I havQ translated it by the nearest words I could light of in our lan- guage. The cretionts were of two kinds ; the one vulgar, in which the words quibus scio poUroque were inserted ; the other absolute, in which they were not inscitcd. UlpiaJtus, Tit. 22. » Whether any man had any question to discuss,'] I am sorry io observe it, but it appears from tliis passage, that quack- ery. : • 7} > ' » 5fi he introduced by Gorgias of Leontium, who thoutiht that he undertook 'somethino: that was great and surprising, when he pronounced that he was ready to speak upon any subject that any one of bis audience, whoever be ujight be, de- sired to hear. This afterwards became, and still is, their common practice, insomuch, that there is no subject so important, so unexpected, or so new, that they do not pretend to discuss, as fully as it possibly can be. If I thought, Cotta, that you or Sulpicius wanted to be entertained in this manner, I would have brought along with me some Greek to entertain you with such disputes, which indeed is no hard niatter still to effect : for there is a Peripatetic, one Staseas, at the house of M. Piso, a youth devoted to this study, and pos- sessing the finest understanding, and much at- tached to me. With this Staseas, and he appears by the general com-.ent of all competent judges to be at the head of this sort of disputation, 1 am well acquainted. CHAP. ery in learning is of a very ancient date. The^ philosophers were a kind of intellectual prize-fighters ; of such we Lavo had great plenty since; one Crighton,a Scotchman, in the 16th century, was a perfect knight errant in this way ; for he made the tour of Europe, and published placarts wherever he camCj that he was ready to dispute with any man not otily upon any subject, but in any language his opponent should chuse. If I am not mistaken, he likewise oftl'red io dispute in prose or Terse ; so YQry indefatigable was he in rLenderiag himself ridi- culous, E 3 54 CHAP. XXIIL Why do you talk to us, answered IMucius, ojt your Staseas and your Peripatetic ? You must, my friend, indulge the young gentlemen ; they want not to hear the daily prate of an unexperi- enced Greek, nor a scholastic legend ; they want to know the sentiments of the wisest, the most eloquent man of his age, of the man whose un- derstanding and eloquence qualify him to take the lead, not in the subtleties of learning, but in the importance of the causes he manages in this august seat of empire ; it is in the footsteps of a man like this, that they desire to tread. For my part, though 1 always imagined you to be di- vinely eloquent, yet 1 never thought you more distinguished by eloquence, than by polite litera- ture. It is in this character that you are now to appear, nor must you decline the disputation to which you are invited by two young gentlemen of distinguished talents. I assure you, replies Crassus, I am ready to obey them, and to give them my sentiments in my own brief manner up- on any subject. And, Sca^vola, in the first place, as I cannot with propriety overlook what you mentioned, I think that eloquence is either not at all an art, or has but slender claims to that appellation ; but that all the difference among the learned, on this head, lies in words. For if, as Antonius said a little while ago, the definition of an art is, that it consists of points thoroughly txaminedi 1 J 55 examined, clearly understood, abstracted from the caprice of opinion, and bounded by the principles of science; to me there seems to be no such art as that of eloquence. For all our pleadings at the bar vary in kind from one another, and must be suited to the understandings of the common peo- ple. The observations which have been deduced from the practice of pleading, by men of taste and discernment, have been properly expressed, have been illustrated by examples, and distribu- ted under distinct heads, which I understand has been done, 1 see no reason why it should not in a popular w^ay, though not in philosophical stea- diness, receive the denomination oi' art. Howe- ver, whether it be an art, or the semblance of an art, it ought by no means to be neglected ; but we'must still take it for granted that some higher qualifications are required to attain it. CHAP. XXIV. AxTONius thensrJd, that he cordially agreed with Crassus, that he neither owned it as an art,, in the sense of those who reduce all the powers of eloquence to the rules of art, nor absolutely de- nied its claims to that appellation, as is done by most philosophers. But, Crassus, continued lie, I believe it will oblige these gentlemen, if you point out the method by which you think they may improve in the faculty of speaking, more effectually than they can be aided by the art it- self. I consent, replied he, as I am now upon E 4 ^1^^^ • /■ 56 the subject ; but I beg that what I say in the freedom of conversation, on this occasion, may not be divulged, though at the same time I will be upon my guard not to appear as a professed teacher, but in the character of a private Roman, who has a tolerable reputation, and not entirely void of merit in pleading at the bar ; who does not dictate, but delivers his sentiments in an ac- cidental conversation. When a candidate for office, and I wished to canvass votes, I used to take my leave of Sca^vola, by telling him I want- ed to trifle ; this was a civil way of asking him to retire ; for in these cases, unless a man trifles, he can do nothing to the purpose. Here it happens that the very person l)efore whom I would less willingly act a trifling part, than before any other in the world, is now a spectator of the frivolities which I am capable of committing; for what can be more frivolous than to speak upon the art of speaking, when nothing can excuse speaking itself but necessity ? Pray go on, replies Mucius, I w^ill answer for any thing which you fear may be amiss in your discourse. CHAP. XXV. The!^, said Crassus, it is my opinion that *the powers * The powers.^ Qnintllian, in his preface, § 4, has a lery beautiful expression upon this subject; illud tamen imprimis testMndum est, nihil prcccpta atque artes vakre nisi adjuxante na* turd. i 57 powers w^hich contribute most to eloquence are innate. As to those authors whom Antonius mentioned a little before, it was not method or order that was wanting to them, but genius ; for the mind must originally be endued with vi- gorous faculties, for rendering the invention acute, the expression and its embellishments dif- fusive, and the memory solid and lasting. It is very well, if these faculties be animated or called forth by art ; but it is not in the power of art to engraft every quality; for these are the gifts of nature. If, therefore, one should erroneously sup- pose that these qualifications are attainable by art, what will he say of those capacities which are cer- tainly born with them ; such as the free use of the tongue, an agreeable articulation, strength of lungs, an animating expression, and a pleasing figure ? Not but that art can contribute some refinements ; tor I am sensible that learning may- improve what is already good, and in some mea- sure polish and correct what is none of the best. But there are some men so difficult in their utter- ance, so harsh in their tone of voice, so forbid- ding in their look, so unwieldy and ungraceful in their appearance, that all the advantages of tur&. Quapropfer ei cut deerit ingcnium von magis hcec script a sunt^ quiim de agrurum cuitu bterilibus terris. We must (says he) premis«, that precepts and art can do nothing without the concurrence of nature. For those pages are no more wrote for the use of a person who has no genius, than a treatise upon agriculture can be supposed cal- culated for the imprtiTement of barren grounds* It •''>! 58 of Renius and art can never secure to them the reputation of fine orators. There are others so happily formed by nature in these respects, that they seem not to have been born, but moulded bv a superior being. 1 1 is an undertaking of seri- ous difficulty, for one man to command the atten- tion of a whole assembly while discussing the most important matters i for there is scarcely any one among his hearers, who is not more alive to the de- fects Than to the beauties of his language ; and lU therefore apt to overlook ^vhat is really deserving of praise, in the observance of his fault.-. Not that I would insinuate that young men who have not fine natural parts, should be absolutely dis- couraged from the study of elo.iuence : tor who does not perceive that it does great honour to C. Laehus, my equal in years, and without the ad- vantages of birth to recommend hmi, that he was able to rise to that mediocrity m speaking which he possessed ? Is there one in this com- pany who does not know that Q. Varnis, a man of an unwieldy and uncouth figure, has now a vast interest in the city, by means of his moderate talents ? CHAP. XXVI. But as our discourse has now fallen upon tlie character of an orator, let it describe one who is faultless, and all-accomplished ; for if the multi- plicity of suits, the variety of causes, the bustle *^ 3 and 59 and confusion of the forum, afford employment sufficient for the most wretched speakers, we ought not, for that reason, to lose sight of the maTn ohjcct of our pursuit. Thus, in those arts which are cultivated, not for tlie use, but the ele- gance they bestow upon life, with what accu- racy and fastidiousness we form our taste. For there are no controversies to induce people to endure a bad actor in the theatre, as they do an indifferent pleader at the bar. An orator, therefore, ought to be extremely careful, not only to please those whom it is his business to please, but to ensure the admiration of those who can form a more rational and correct judgment. But if you insist that I should speak my opinion of the matter without reserve, as all of you are my intimate friends, I will now, for the first time, declare what I have hitherto thought ought to be concealed. Even the best speakers, they who speak with the greatest ease and grace, are, in my opinion, guilty of too much assurance, though really modest, unless they appear timid, and be- tray some confusion, in the commencement of their speech; for the more a man excels in speaking, he is the more sensible of its difficulty, he is under the greater concern for the event, and to answer the expectation of the public. But he who can perform nothing worthy the profes- sion or the name of an orator, nothing worthy^ the attention of mankind, this man will appear* impudent in my eyes, let his timidity while he speaks be ever so great ; for w^e ought to avoid the \ r f 00 the imputation of impudence, not by blushing at, but by avoiding, improprieties. As for him who discovers no sense of shame, as is too commonly the case, such a man, I think, deserves not re- proof only, but punishment ; for I have often ob- served in you, and experienced in myself, that I grow pale at the beginning of a speech, and feel a tremor in every part of my frame. But when a young man, I was so intimidated at the opening of a speech, that, I speak it with the highest sense of gratitude, Q. Maximus adjourned the court, when he perceived me thus oppressed and disabled with concern. Here they all of them agreed in the adjournment, and began to whisper and talk to one another; for there was in Crassus a sur- prising bashfuhiess, which, so far from being a disadvantage to his eloquence, caused even a pre- possession in its favour, by recommending the good qualities of his lieart CHAP. XXVIL Indeed, my friend, I have often observed, as you say, replied Antonius, that you, and the rest of our best speakers, though, in my opinion, none ever equalled you, were much aftected in the ex- ordium of your discourse. When I came to en- quire into the reason of this, and why an orator, •the better he could speak, was always under the greater confusion in speaking, I accounted for it two ways; the first was, that they who are formed 61 formed, both by experience and nature, for fine orators, have observed, that sometimes causes will terminate not conformably to the wishes of the very best speakers ; it is therefore reasonable for them, every time they are speaking, to dread, as it sometimes happens, it may be their own case at the time. The other way I account for it is, what I often thought a hardship. When they who have an established character in other arts fall short of their usual excellence, it is generally im- puted to their want either of inclination or health to exert their abilities ; Roscius, say they, would not act to-day, or he was indisposed. But if a defect is observed in an orator, it is immediately imputed to dulness, and dulness has no excuse ; for you will never be able to persuade the world that a man can be a dunce either through indis- position or wilfulness. Thus, in pleading, we en- counter a severe hardship, and every time we speak it is renewed ; while a player, who has been faulty in action, is not immediately pro- nounced to know nothing of action; but if an orator shall be thought to make one blunder, he labours for ever, or at least for a long time, under the imputation of incapacity. CHAP. XXVIII. As to what you say, that there are a great many things in which, unless an orator has received Jhem from nature, the assistance of a master can do ( #1t 62 do Inm but little service, I am very much of your opinion ; and here I cannot but do justice to the merits of tiiat excellent master Apollonuis of Alabanda, who, though he made a trade of teach- incr yet would never suffer those he thought m- capie of becoming good speakers, to h.se their time in attending his lessons, hut dismissed them ^vith the advice to engage in those professum;* for which he thought them best qualified. I'or. in otlier employments, it is sufficient if a person appears to have talents, and if, while learning, though slow of apprehension, he has capacity enou-', to understand, and has memory enough to retain what is taught, or perhaps beaten intQ him lie has no occasion for tluency of language, or commanding expression, nor for those quali- fications for which wc are indebted to nature, such as the face, the look, the accent. (Ihit in an orator are required the acuteness of a logician, the learning of philosophers, the diction almost of poets, the memory of lawyers, the voice ot tragedians, and tlie action of the best playersj— For this reason, there is nothing more (hthcnlt to . find among men than a perfect orator. Among the professors of particular branches in other arts, if each in his own arrives at mediocrity, he passes with approbation; but if an orator is not com- pletely master of every branch of his art, lie is not approved. And yet, said Crassus, see how much more indefatigable people are in an art that is but trivial, than in this aftair, which is evident- ly of the greatest importance. For I have fre- •' quently 63 quently heard Roscius say, he never had *a scho- lar witli whom he was perfectly satisfied ; not but that some of his pupils merited approbation; but because, if they were in any wise defective, he himself couhl not endure it ;{For nothing makes so remarkable, so deep an impression upon the me- mory as a dsfcrL\ And, if you allow me to con- tinue the paialleTbetwixt the accomplishments of an orator and those of a player, do not you ob- serve, that every thing the latter does, is done in the most complete, the most graceful manner; that he always acts with such propriety, as to move and delight every spectator? Hence it is, that he has attained to suc^^ distinction, that when a man excels, he is cmlled the Roscius of his profession. While I r^uire this finished ex- cellence in an orator, of which I am so void my- self, I act without candour, as my own defects I wish to have excused, while to those of others I exercise no indulgence, ^or he who is destitute of ahilities to speak, who speaks with inipro- priety, or awkwardness, this man ought (I think with Apollonius) ^o be turned over to do some other em ploy m eutj CHAP- XXIX. What, replies Sulpicius, would you have Cotta or me to become a student in civil law, or mili- tary affairs ; for what man is able to rise to those high, those universal accomplishments ? So far from \ i~ [! ♦ ^ ^ ■•mm' ^ f 6i from that, answers the other, that the very rea- son why I have explained myself in this manner, was, because I knew both of you to possess minds peculiarly qualified for eloquence, and my words were calculated not more to discourage those who had not abilities, than to encourage you who have : and though I perceive that both the one and the other of you are endued with the greatest capacity and a[)plication, yet the advantages of outward appearances, which I have enlarged uponperha|)s more than the (rrceks u.^e to do, in you, Snipicius, are divine. For I do not remem- ber to have ever heard any man speak with more grace, either in respect to attitude, deportment, or figure, or with a ^fuller and sweeter voice. — r^ Even they who possess these advantages in a smaller degree may be good speakers, provided they have the skill to use the qualifications they really possess to the best advantage, and Vvith \ gracefulness y for awkwardness is the thing most /q_ of all others to be avoided. At the same time, it is extremely difficult to give any rules upon this head ; this is a difficulty which is felt not only by me, who speak of these matters as a private gen- tleman, but even by Roscius himself, whom I have often heard say, that "the essential requsite in « The essenihl re,quisite in an art is gracefulness.'} The an- clcnt writers frequently allude to this boautitV.l inaxim : " In all undertakings,^' said they, '• let us sacrifice to the Graces." It was by obsorvini:; this important lesson, rather than from any superiority of genius, that their writings have lived so long 4i 65 in an a?^t is gracefulness, which, nevertheless, is the only thing that did not come within the pre- cepts of art ; but, if you please, let us change our discourse, and talk in our own way, not as rheto- ricians. By no means, replied Cotta, for we are* now under the necessity of entreating you, since you would have us confined to this profession, and to study no other art, to place before us, in its whole extent, your powers of eloquence. — Surely you cannot say we are too ambitious, as we are content with your eloquence, indiffi^rent as it is, and we want to know how we can be farther qualified ; since you say we are not en- tirely destitute of natural endowments ; not that we intend to aspire at more than the little merit in speaking you have attained to. CHAP. long in esteem. An excellent English satirist has expressed the meaning of this allusion beautifully. lie who blots out, and blots not out the best. Pours lustre in, and dignifies the rest. But the poet, in these two lines, hints only at one cause which destroys the gracefulness of a performance produced by genius, and that is, the fondness of an author for his own work, and his being loath to blot what he thinks is well said, no matter with what propriety it comes in. There is another source of ungracefulness, which was the cause of all the Gothicisms which infected the fine arts for 1200 years, and that was mis- taking ornament for beauty, and thence aiming at an unna. tural perfection. The Goths, observing the ancient architec- ture with a few ornaments was very beautiful, they concluded that if it had more ornaments it must be more beautiful, till at length all was ornament, and nothing beauty. The same fate, from the same cause, attended poetry, eloquence, paint, ingj and statuary. i r\ nartr 66 CHAP. XXX. Why Cotta, replied Crassus, with a smile, you want nothing farther but that intense and ardent studv, without which nothing great was ever per- fornied in Ufe : far less can any one attain to the excellence you require. But indeed it is .n vam to have the desire of arriving at any pomt, unless you are acquainted with the means that can con- duct you to the desired ol.ject. But as the task you impose upon mc is pretty easy, since you do not insist upon my explaining the art of an ora- tor but the little I myself can do m this way, 1 will inform vou of my own method, which has, indeed, nothing in it abstruse, difficult, shewy, or arduous, but what I practised in my youth, while I had an opportunity of apptymg to these studies. Cotta, exclaimed Suipicu.s, what a blessed day has this proved to us ; for, in spJte of all my entreaties, and all my efforts, secret and avowed, I never was able to come at those compo- sitions or discourses to which Crassus had re- course for the sake of improvement, nor to have any knowledge of them from DiphiUis, his chap- lain and amanuensis. I hope now we have ob- tained what we wished for, and shall be informed from his own mouth of every thing we wanted to know. CHAP. XXXI. But indeed, my friend, said Crassus, 1 am of opinion, when you have heard all 1 have to say,^ 4 ^ 67 that you will not be so much in love with it ; but rather think, that you had no reason for being so desirous to hear it beforehand ; because what I am to say contains no secret, nothing to answer your expectation, nothing that is new to you or the world ; for I own very freely, that I have studied all those trite and common-place rules, with which a gentleman and a scholar should not be unacquainted. Accordingly, I lay it down as a stated maxim, that the principal point an ora- tor ought to aim at, is to persuade ; ne.xt, that the tendency of every speech is either to discuss some general question, without specifying per- sons or times, or some point where particular times or persons are specified. In both these cases, the question in dispute commonly is, whe- ther such a thing is, or is not a fact ; or, if the fact be admitted, of what nature it is, or under what denomination it comes ; and, according to some, whether the commission of it was, or was not justifiable. I was farther taught, that con- troversies may arise from the meaning, whether it is either doubtful or contradictory, or when the letter contradicts the spirit of the law; and that a certain species of argumentation is appropriated ^ to each of these cases. I was farther informed, that those doubts that cannot be ranked under the general division, become either matters of trial or debate ; that there exists likewise a third species, consisting in praising or reprimanding particular persons ; and that there are certain topics upon which we insist in cases of equity, and in courts of justice ; that there are other topics Fj£ which \ 8* » ^ 68 which we discuss, and where all the subject of debate is the interest of those to whom we give our advice or assistance ; that there are still others appropriated to panegyric, where every thing has relation to personal merit. I was farther in- \ / stnicted, that as all the profession of eloquence is divided into five parts, an orator must first sup- ply the materials he has to say, and when these are supplied, he is to distribute and range them, not only in order, but in a manner that is likely to give them weight and importance ; he is next to clothe in embellished language, then to im- print them in the memory, and. lastKy to deliver )) themWith gracefulness and dignity^ I was far- ther led to understand, that before one enters upon the main subject, he should endeavour to gain the aifection of his hearers. In the next place, the fact is to be represented, the case is to be stated, and "the speaker then proceeds to prove his allegations ; he next proceeds to confute what has been advanced by his adversary; and at the conclusion of his speech, whatever makes in his favour, he is to enlarge and improve, and what- ever makes au:ainst him he is to weaken and ex- tenuate. CHAP. XXXII. T WAS likewise instructed in whatever relates to the embellishments of a speech, the chief of ■ which is purity of diction, the next is ease and clearness, the next gracefulness, and the last an expression suited to, and, as it were, setting off, the 69 the nature of the subject ; and I made myself master of all the precepts relating to each of these points. Even that which one would think to be a principle of nature, I have sometimes known to be assisted by art ; for I myself have cursorily learnt certain precepts respecting action and me- mory, but I embodied them with continued practice; for all the learning of certain teachers turns upon technical points like these, and I should be much in the wrong to say that they are of no use ; for they serve, as it were, to prompt the orator, by informing to what head such and such things relate, and at a glance he is much surer not to be \vk\t of his aim. But I take the true use of rules to lie in this, not that orators by observing them attain to eloquence, but that ob- servations have been made, and a practice formed upon those principles, which eloquent men have unfolded by the mere strength of natural genius. Thus eloquence is not the product of art, but art is derived from eloquence : but even that, as I said before, I would not exclude ; for though it may not be quite so necessary to the practical part of speaking, yet it is very subservient to the critical. This is the task that you are to under- take, though you have already entered the lists ; notwithstanding that the students in this way, like soldiers, may improve by the previous disci- pline of a mock fight upon disputable points.— This, interrupted Sulpicius, was the very thing we wanted to know, yet we wish to hear some- what from you with regard to the art itself, which you have but slightly noticed, though we are not F 3 quite E i--.i 70 quite strangers to it. However, wc shall talk of this hercriter, but at present we want to know your sentiments upon tlie practice itself. CHAP. XXXIII. Why really, replied Crassus, I approve of your common practice in stating a cause of the same nature with tliose that really come before the courts of justice, and then speaking to it as if vou were actually in earnest. But most people in such exercises make use only of their voice, and that too not very judiciously, tlie strength of their lungs, and the volubility of their tongue, and are quite charmed with their own perform-^ ancc, if tluv can but i)Our forth a torrent of words; so 'far do they mistake that general maxim, that practice makes perfection in speak- ing. But there is another maxim ; that by a vicious practice, men very naturally fall into a vicious habit of speaking. Therefore, in those very exercises, though it is of great importance that a man should acquire an ease and quickness of elocution, yet it is of much greater that he should, after some consideration, speak at once with readiness and correctness. But to tell the truth, the chief point of all is a thing that we very seldom resort to ; for it is dilficult, and therefore commonly avoided, 1 mean the frequent practice of composition. Thk pen is the (BEST, THE MOST EXCELLENT FORMER AND piRECTon OF THE TONGUE; and no wonder; for \ / / V J 71 for if reflection and thought easily excel extem- poraneous effusions, careful and assiduous prac- tice in composing will excel even those advanta; ges. For every topic, whether of art or learn- \ ing, if it has any relation to the subject we write upon, immediately presents itself and occurs to the eye of critical observation ; and at the same time, it is a necessary consequence, that those pe- riod! and expressions, which are most elegible, must suggest themselves to the direction of the pen; thus also is produced that metrical and harmonious arrangement which does not indeed belong to poetry,^ but is pecuhar to oratorical compositions. Hence likewise is laid open the true source of the warm applause bestowed on excellent speakers ; and however long a person may practise spontaneous elocution, he never can command admiration without practice in writing : and the man, who after "using his pen, shall come to the bar, will carry along with him this advantage, that though he shall speak, even without previous meditation, yet what he may dchver will have the air of correct composition ; and farther, if at any time he shall use the assist- ance of notes, as soon as he lays them aside, the remaining part of his speech will be of a piece with the preceding. As a boat under sail, though the X U>>i»g his pen.-] This precept will be found useful to all manner of speakers, and we hare ki.own some of the greatest men in our age and country owe thf excellency ot their elo- quence to this precaution. The following fimile of our au- thor is cxtremcly.,ja«t,aiul beautiful. F4 •^r- / -I the rowers suspend their efforts, yet still the ves- sel moves in the same direction as wlien impelled by the impulse of the oars ; so, in a continued discourse, when no longer supplied with notes, yet the remaining part proceeds in the same strain, by the resemblance and strength it ac- quires from composition. CHAP. XXXIV. But in my daily exercises, when I was but a very young man, I own I chiefly followed what I knew to be the practice of my adversary, Caius Carbo, which was, to digest in my memory a chosen number of dignified and polished verses, or a certain portion of some oration which I had read over, and then deliver the very same matter in other uords, and those the best I could chuse. But this practice was liable to the objection, that the most proper, the most elegant, and the most beautiful expressions in every subject, had been anticipated cither by Ennius or Gracchus, if I took the subject from the verses of the one, or the orations of the other. Thus, if I used the same words, my labour conferred no benefit ; if I used ditferent words, the alteration must have been for the worse, and my labour was not only lost but injurious. Afterwards, when I grew a little older, I chose to translate the best Greek orations, by which I ensured this advantage, that in rendering the Greek I had read over into La- tin, I not only hit upon the most elegant, and yet the the most usual expressions, but was in the course of my translation led to the use of some terms, wliich to my countrymen were new, and I took care that they should be proper. Now the use of the voice, the kings, the whole body, and even the tongue, do not so much require ^art as exer- cise. But in all these exercises we ought to take particular care to imitate those whom we wish to resemble. We are not only to observe the manners of orators, but of actors, lest by a vicious practice WT contract some habits of in- corrigible deformity. The memory ought like- wise ^o be employed in retaining many of our own compositions, and those of the Greeks; and to this exercise I do not think it would be amiss, if you ^should aid your memory by cer- tain hints taken from places and resemblances. From this private, this retired discipline, you are to draw out your powers of eloquence into the forum, as into a camp, where prevail the dust, the shouts, and the conflicts of war. You are to handle every weapon, put the forces of your genius to the trial, and all your retired lucubra- tions y Art as exercise.'] Our author no doubt means, that by exercise one may come into an artful management and disposi- tion of all the exterior circumstances of speaking. X Sfiould aid, &c.] The art of memory was in great vogue, and of a good deal of advantage among the Greeks. The moderns, especially the Germans, in the last age, wrote a great many books upon it; but if the ancients had not proceeded upon some principles that were more worthy the exercise of the rational faculties than the Germans did, it is probable wc should not have it recommended by Cicero. m \lj AXXlV 74 tions must now stand the test of public practice. The poets too should be read, a knowledge of history acquired ; the writers, the authors, of all the best arts repeatedly perused ; and to improve your practice you arc to praise, to explain, to cor- rect, to vilify, and to confute them. You must Mispute upon either side of every question ; and it will be necessary to explore and explain what- ever can be advanced on your own side with the greatest plausibility upon any subject. The civil law must be thoroughly studied ; the statutes understood, together with a clear knowledge of all antiquity, of the practice of the senate, the government of the state, the rights of our aUies, leagues, conventions, and the interests of the r constitution. You are likewise, from the vari- ous rules of good hreeding, to extract a certain agreeable turn of wit, which, like salt, should u season all your diction. Thus 1 have freely communicated all I knew ; and this is perhaps no more than what any private gentleman, whom you might meet with in company, would have o'iven you. ^ CHAP. - Dispute vpoTi cither ^ide,] I do not know if the rapidity xvith wl.ich Cra^bus speaks here can plead for an excuse for this exprei>sion. Quintilian, to his immortal honour, looked upon the profession of an orator in another light than we do upon that of a Swiss: ho thought that no man could distin- guish himself without great virtues as well as great qualities ; I wish that we could say he had learned this from the precepts our author lays down in this treatise. 7.> CHAP. XXXV, When Crassus had done speaking, a pause en- sued ; but though the company seemed to think that he had sufficiently answered all they had proposed, yet he concluded much sooner than they could have wished. Pray Cotta, adds Sc2evola, what means this silence? What cannot you tall upon some other (juestio^i to put to Crassus ? Why, replied the other, that is the very thing I am thinking of; for such was the rapidity of his words, such the flow of his Ian- guage, that I perceived its force and energy, but could scarcely trace its rise and progress ; as if one were to enter into some rich, well furnished house, where neither the apparel, the ])late, nor the pictures and images are distinctly placed in view, but folded up and concealed amidst the variety and magnificence of the furniture ; so just now, while Crassus was speaking, I could per- ceive the riches and beauties of his genius, as it were through certain integuments which veiled them ; but' of the things I wanted to survey at leisure, I could scarcely have a glance. Upon the whole I can neither say that I am absolutely ignorant of, nor yet that I have been able clearly to perceive, the treasures with which his mind is enriched. Then, replies Scievola, why not act as you would do, were you to enter a scat mag- nificently furnished ; if, as you have supposed, all the rich furniture is locked up, and you felt much curiosity to see it, would you not desire the owner to order it to be brought out, especi- ally k 76 dlly if ire were your friend ? In like manner ask the favour of Crassus now to display to our view, and range in proper order, all the costly orna- ments in his possession, of which we just had but a slight, transient glance, as it were through a window. Nay, but Scaevola, replies Cotta, I beg this favour of you ; for Sulpicius and I are ashanicd to importune one of the greatest men upon earth, and one who has always despised disputations of this kind, for what he perhaps looks upon as an exercise only for children. But do you, Scaevola, grant us this indulgence, and prevail with Crassus more fully and distinct- ly to expand those principles, which in his discourse he contracted into so narrow a com- pass. This indeed, replied Mucius, I already wished, rather on your account than my own, nor can I say that my desire of hearing Crassus upon this subject was equal to the pleasure 1 have had in hearing him plead. But now, Crassus, I beg upon my own account too, that you will employ this unusual interval of leisure, in finish- ing the edifice, the foundation of which you have already laid : for I see that it possesses greater dimensions, and more beauty than I was aware of, and such as I greatly approve of. CHAP. XXXVI. Indeed, replies Crassus, I am much surprised that you, Scsevola, should insist on hearing what i am neither so much master of as they who teach r ; !'^ 77 teach it, and which is not of a nature, however well understood, to suit yoj/experience, or claim your attention. Say you so ? answers the other : but ffrantino: that vouno- men ought not to hear the common and vulgar rules, are we to neglect those precepts which you have pronounced ne- cessary to be known by an orator, respecting the nature and morals of mankind, and the method of awakening and subduing the passions ; re- specting history, antiquity, government; and, in a word, respecting the civil law of our country ? For I knew that your experience comprehends all this extent, all this variety of knowledge, but never did I witness such magnificent furniture in the cabinet of an orator. Then, answers Crassus, not to speak of other innumerable instances, of great importance, and to proceed to your favou- rite study of the civil law, can you regard them as orators, upon whom Scaevola, with a mixture ofn^.irth and indignation, waited many hours, when he was hastening to the Campus Martius ; at which time Hypseus, with a loud voice, and in a torrent of words, insisted before the prjEtor M. Crassus, that his client might lose his cause. While Cneius Octavius, a man of consular rank, in a speech of equal length, refused to suffer his antagonist to lose his cause, or that his own client should take the advantage, by the blunders of the other party, of being acquitted of the charge of betraying his ward, and all its troublesome consequences. For my part, answers the other, I remember to have heard Mucius speak of these dunces, but I am so far from allowing tjiem to \ \ / 7S to be orators, that I am for depriving them of the privilege of pleading at the bar. And yet, replied Crassus, these advocates wanted neither eloquence nor address and readiness in speaking ; what they wanted was a knowledge of the civil law. For the one insisted upon more, while he ' was pleading upon an article in the twelve tables, than the law allowed ; and if this was granted him, he of course would have lost the trial. The other thought it unjust th:it he should be ex- posed to greater hardship than the charge brought against him implied, and did not perceive that if he had been dealt by in that manner, liis anta- gonist must have been defeated. CHAP. XXXVII. iVav, not many days ago, while wc were sitting as assistants to our friend Q. Pompeius, the city praetor, did not one of your eloquent lawyers insist upon the defendant being indulged in an old and common exception, in favour of a debtor who was engaged to pay a sum at a cer- tain day ? He did not understand that this rule was made in favour of the creditor; insomuch, that if the defendant had proved before the judge, that the money was demanded before it became due, M'hen the plaintiff came to demand it a second time he might have been precluded by this exception, ^because the affair had ALREADY ^ Became the'] ThcFC words I have put in capitals appear to hare been part of -the law. 79 ALREADY BEEN TRIED. Can any thing be more scandalous, in words or in conduct, than that a man, who pretends to superintend the in- terests of his friends, to relieve the oppressed, to administer to the sick, and to raise the dejected, should so stumble in affairs of the most trivial and obvious nature, as to become an object of pity to some, and of ridicule to others ? I own that our opulent kinsman, Crassus, who in many re- spects possessed taste and elegance, was highly commendable in this, that he used to tell 'liis brother Sca^vola, that the latter never could have made any figure in the civil law, had he not de- voted himself to eloquence, (his son, who was joint consul with me, united both these charac- ters) and that he himself had studied the civil law before he undertook to plead any causes for his <^ His brother Saevola.'] To understand the wit of this saying of Crassus it may be proper to observe, that the family of the Scavola, as he himself hints before in this dialogue, was famous for their knowledge of the civil law, as was that of Crassus for eloquence ; Scaevola marrying the sister of Crassus gave the latter a handle for this saying. The Crassus here mentioned was not Marcus, the famous trium? ir, who was killed by the Parthians, and famous for his wealth, but another, who, accor- ding to certain authors in Gellius, had five several prt?-emi- nences, viz. 1st, in riches ; 2ndly, in quality; Srdly, in elo- quence ; 4thly, in jurisprudence ; and, Sthly, in the sacerdotal college. Is Crassus a Sempronio Asellione, Sf plcrisque aliis HistoricB Romance scriptoribus traditur quinque habuisse rernm bonarum maxima 4* prcecipua^ quod esset ditissimus, quodnobilissimus^ quod eloquent issimus, quod jurisconsult issimus^ quod pontifex rnaximus. Cell. Noct. Att. L. I. C. 13. $0 his tViends. But what was the character of the excellent M. Cato ? Was it not that of being one of the best speakers of whom this age or country could boast, and at the same time a most skilful civilian ? I have all along touched upon this point with tlie greater delicacy, because there is now in this company a person of the highest eloquence, and one whom I admire as the fust of his profession as an orator, and yet who has al- ways expressed a contempt for the study of the civil law. But as you insist upon liaving my sentiments, 1 will not disguise, but lay before you with frankness my thoughts upon the sub- ject. ^ CHAP. XXXVIII. The amazing, the unparalleled, the divine genius of Antony, though unacquainted with the civil law, qualifies him to ensure the interests of his clients l)y other weapons than legal knowledge, lie is, therefore, an exception to our general rule ; but as to others, I own I hesitate not to con- demn them, in my own mind, both of idleness and of arrogance. *I'or to parade along the fo- rum ; to be always meddling in law-suits, and ever frequenting the courts of justice ; to manage the most important decisions respecting private property, in which the question often does not turn upon points of fact, but of law^ and equity ; to swagger in petty causes, where you have all the system of .laws relating to interests, wards, families, relations ; the alterations and erup- 2 tions 81 tions of rivers, vassalage and bondage ; walls, and windows ; egress and regress ; wills executed or unfulfilled, together with an infinite number of other things ; if a man who undertakes all this is ignorant of his own rights, or the rights of others, what constitutes bondage or freedom, a domestic, or a citizen, a person of this descrip- tion must surely possess consummate assurance. What a ridiculous figure would a man make, to own that he did not know how to manage a small Lark, and yet pretend to sail one of our first rate ships ? If in company I should find that you are over-reached by a quibble of your antagonist; if I see you executing a deed for your client, wdiich must prove prejudicial to his interest, do you imagine that I would trust a cause of greater moment to your management ? Be assured that the pilot wdio in harbour oversets a small boat, shall sooner be entrusted w^ith the com- mand of a ship of w^ar in a dangerous sea. But if those causes that turn upon the civil law are not insignificant, but often of the utmost import- ance, what eflfrontery must a man have to pre- tend to be an advocate in those causes, without the smallest knowledge of the law ? For in- stance, could any cause be more important than that of the soldier, of whose death his father had been erroneously informed from the army, but believing the information true, he altered his will, and appointed another person his heir. After this the father himself died, and the cause was brought before the judges. The soldier return- ing home, commenced an action to recover the G estate. Si estate. The question to be decided was, whe- ther the son, whom the father did not mention in this will, was in the eye of the law excluded from his paternal inheritance. CHAP. XXXIX. Farthf.r, what was the decision of the judges, in the cause between the Patrician famiUes of the Claudii and the Marcelli ? When the Marcelli claimed an estate in right of descent from the son ofafreedman, and the Clauchi pretended that the same estate ought to revert to them by a fa- mily right derived from a Patrician of their name ; tn such a cause, were not the pleaders to explain the whole system of the rights of succes- sion and family ? What say you of another dis- pute which I have heard was brought before the same tribunal ? A man having been banished from his own country, lived at Rome, and hav- ing claimed the protection of the Roman laws refatin^ to banished persons, ai)plied in conse- quence'' to some one to become his patron, and then died intestate ; in such a cause are not the laws, obscure and unknown as they are,^ relating to * rttlating to such applications.'] The dtcntships among the Romans constituted a part of the estate of a great man. Ther« is a remarkable passage upon this head in Aulus Gcllius, which gives us a clear view of the subordination of civil rcla- tions amon- the old Romans ; the first relation next to that of son and father, says he, is that betwixt a guardian and his ward ; . the 83 to such applications, to be laid open in the trial, and explained by the advocate in his pleading? What do you think of a recent law suit, when I pleaded in favour of C* Sergius Aurata, against our friend Antonius, \vliich was decided by arbitration ? Was not the defence which I made entirely deduced from the civil law ? For when Marius Gratidianns had sold the house to Aurata, without expressing in the deed that any part of that house was to be subjected to servi- tude ; I pleaded, that whatever loss might arise by omitting this reservation, it ought to fall upon the seller, if he knew of any such servitude an- nexed to the purchase, and omitted to express it. In actions of this kind, my friend, M. Buc- culeius, who is no fool indeed, in my opinion, and a very wise man in his own, being besides not the second, that betwixt a patron and his client; the third, that betwixt a landlord and his guest ; lastly, those of kin- dred and alliance. But the words of Gellius contain some- what so express and diffusive, that I cannot omit giving them to the learned reader, who I believe will agree that there are few more curious passages in all antiquity. Conveniehat autem facile const ubatqii^^ ex moribus populi Roma* n'lf primumjuxfa parcntcs locum tenerc pupillos dtberejidei tute" la:que nostrce credit ofi : sccunduyn cos pfox?mum locum cUentcs ha» bcrc^ qui sesr itidcm in fidcm patrociniuntque nostnwi dediderunt^ turn in tertio loco es'fe hospitcs ; postea esse cogvafos affmcsque. Hvjus maris obscriafionisque multa sunt testimonia documcnfaque in antiquitatibus pcrscripta. Ex quibus unum hoc interim^ de clienfibus cognatisque^ quod prce manibus est poncmus. M. Cato in vratione^ quam dixit apud censorcsin Lentulum, ita scripsitf *' Quod fnajores sanctius hubuere defendi pupillos^ quam client em nemo dicit : patrem printum^ deindc patronum proximum nomen habere.''* Gellius Noct» Att. 1. 5) c. 15. G 2 84 not unacquainted with the law, in some respects committed a similar blunder. For when he sold a house to L. Fufms, reserving in servitude the doors and windows in the state they were then in, a person began to build a house in a different quarter of the city, in a place that could be but just discerned from the other ; but he had no sooner begun to build, than he commenced an action against Bucculcius, and insisted on it, that his windows could not, in the terms of their agreement, remain in the same state, if the small- est portion of the horizon was intercepted, how- ever great the distance. But what shall I say of the important cause betwixt Manius Curius and Marcus Coponius, which was lately discussed before the judges, and a crowded court, all cu- rious to know the event ? When Q. Sceevola, -'iny equal and colleague, who of all others is best acquainted with the practice of the civil law, who besides possesses the (luickest discernment, a style remarkably smooth and polished; and who, as I used to say, of all great lawyers was the greatest orator, and of all great orators the greatest kiwyer ; when Scievola, I say, defended the validity of wills from their letter, maintaining, that unless the posthumous child, expressed in the will of the deceased, had been born, and died before he was of age, the person named in the will as succeeding to the infant who should thus be born and die, could not be the heir. I pleaded for the intention of the will ; and that the meaning of the deceased testator must have been, that if he had no son come to age, then Manius 85 Manius Curio was the heir. Did either of us in that trial betray a want of acquaintance with authorities, precedents, and the forms of wills, which constitute the most essential part of the civil law. CHAP. XL. X SHALT- at present omit to mention numberless other imp(3rtant causes. But it often happens that the most 'important concerns, the life and privileges of a citizen, rest upon a knowledge of the civil law. Thus Publius, the son of M. Ru- tilius, the tribune of the people, ordered Caius ]\Iancinus, a man of quality, fortune, and of con- sular dignity, to be expelled from the senate ; because, to avoid the execution of an odious league which he had made with the Numantines, he had been delivered up to them by the presiding he- rald ; and upon their refusing to receive him, he hesitated not to return home, and take his seat in the senate. The opposition of the tribune was founded on a received tradition, that a per- son sold either by his father or the people, or de- livered up by the presiding herald, has no right to reclaim his privileges. Can v/e in the whole system *■ Important concerns.'] The word caput in the original docs not mean the natural life, neither did the expression capitalis causa import a capital cause in our sense of the words. Capi- tdis^ says Modestinus, latine loqucniibus omnis causa existima- tionis videtur. That is, whatever cause could in its event af- fect the honour and reputation of a person, such cause was capital, G 3 86 system of civil polity find a more important cause, than that which respects the rank, the privilege, the Hberty, and the reputation of a se- nator ? Especially as it was not pretended that his disqualification arose from liis own demerit, but from the constitution of the civfl law. Of a similar, hut less important nature, is the case of a native of a confederate state, who had been a slave at Rome, where he obtained his freedom, and then returned to his own country, li w^as in that case a doubt with our ancestors, whetiier such a person could reclaim his rights in ins own state, and whether he had not forfeited the privi- leges of this city. But as I am now speaking of liberty, than which no cause more important can be tried, mav it not become a question, in tlie ci- vil law, wdiether a man when enrolled among the citizens, by the consent of his master, becomes free, or ^vhen the period of the enrollment is ex- pired ? ♦ When tht'prriod of the enrollment.] This passage is proposed by some annotators as a very curious field for criticism. Jl'he original is uhi lustrum conditum. Camerarius informs us, that he saw a very old copy, where the whole passage ruixs thus. Cum quccritur is (mi domlni voluntate census sit^ si non conditujii lus. tr urn sit ^ sit nc liber i Et coniinuoue an tribus lustris conditis liber sit, I shall learc the discussion of the authority of the two readings to those who are inclined to pursue the matter farther ; it is sufficient to take notice here, 1st, that if a per- son was upon the rolls of the Census, it would appear that at the time of makinj: up thos« rolls, every person whose name was contained in them could, and upon any future occasion might have appealed to them for proofs, that he was then a Roman citizen : for this see Cicero*s oration for Archias the poet 87 „b-p.i > Was there not a case that actually hap- penecUn the last age, when the father of a family came from Spain to Rome, leaving bs wife big with child ; he, without any intimation to his wife marries another at Home, where he dies in- testate, leaving behind him a son by each wite ; was the point hi this case to be discusse.l easy ot solution. Here arises a question respecting tlie ricrhts of two citizens, I mean the latter son and hfs mother, who must have been P'^^^^f 'I ^ concubine, had it been found upon the trial that a certain form of words, and not a iiew mamage, were necessary to constitute the valuhty of a di- vorce from the former wife. Must not then the ,.uilt of that man be flagitious, who struts about with o-aietv and assurance, throwing his eyes first to one side, and then to another, swaggering over the forum, with a vast train, proposing pro- tection to his clients, assistance to his friends, and the light of salutary advice to other citizens, and is vet ignorant of these, and other similar points respecting the laws of his own country ? H AVI .\' C CHAP. XLI. noticed the assurance, I must be per- mitted poet. od,y, It would appear from his orat.on fo C.o,, a that though a man was a slave, his bein, enrolled m the Cen- ,us rendered him free. These two -siderat.ons s.em ^ d^^^ termine the reading of this passage as I ha.e t ansla. d >t Condcre Lustrum was no other than fin.sh.ng th ro Us, which time, wo see by Livy, certain plays were celebrated. G4 88 89 mitted next to censure the inactivity and indo- lence of some men. For, granting the know- ledge of the civil law to be an extensive, intricate study, yet its vast utility ought to spur men to undergo the fatigue necessary to the attainment of It. Yet I declare, by the immortal gods, an assertion which I should not presume to advance before Sc^evola, had not he himself often ac- knowledged the truth of it, there is not an art which can more easily be acquired. I own, that the general opinion for certain reasons is otherwise; first, because your ancient practi- tioners, who are at the head of this department, that they may retain and increase their influence, are un wiUing to have the knowledge of their pro- fession generally diffused. In the next place, after it had been published, and the process of it explained by Cn. Flavins, nobody could reduce his technical digest into a more luminous and comprehensible system. For nothing can be re- duced into an art, unless the person who at- tempts it, beside3 knowing the principles which he wishes to classify, has skill enough to ar- range those, which have not yet been brought to the standard of art. I was willing that the brevity with whicli I have explained myself upon this head should lead me into a little ob- purity, but I will endeavour if I can to explain my meaning. N * ; ( ., 1^. CHAP. XLII. AiMOST all the principles that are now re- duced into arts were formerly dispersed without any principle of union. Thus in music ; tunes, sounds, and measures : in geometry ; hues, fi- gures, dimensions, magnitudes: in astronomy; the revolution of the heavens, the rise, the set- ting, and the motions of stars : in ^grammar ; the study of the poets, an acquaintance with history, the de ivation of words, together with a correct pronunciation. And in our profession of elo- auence ; invention, embellishment, arrangement, niemory, action ; all these formerly were un- known, or they seemed too widely dissipated to be reduced into a system. For this reason, a cer- tain art, foreign to eloquence, and which philoso- phers claimed as their own, was employed to ce- ment, and by certain means to combine the mat- ter that thus lay confused and separated. It is an undoubted maxim that the end of the civil law is to watch the persons and properties ot ci- tizens with impartial justice. Its heads are then to be marked, and to be reduced into classes as few as possible. Every head comprehends two or more divisions, with certain properties agree- ing in kind, but having a specific difference; and each division is ranged under those heads from which they are derived. And definitions must be laid down, expressing the force appropriated to ' s GraMmar.^ It appears that the ancients by the study of grammar meant the study of what we call the Bdks Lcttrcs. 90 to every term, whether it relates to the heads or the subordinate parts. A definition again is a short and limited explanation of the properties of the thing which we want to define. I should give examples of these particulars, were I not sensible that they are unnecessary to those before whom I speak : I shall now comprehend what I proposed in as short a compass as is in my power. For were I at leisure to do what I have long meditated ; should any one while I am bu- sied set about it, and when I am dead accom- plish it ; first, to digest the whole civil law un- der different heads, which are but very few ; and then to branch out these heads, as it were, into so many members ; and next define the power that is appropriated to each ; then you will have a complete code of laws, less diificult and obscure than important and diffusive. In the mean time, while what is now dissipated re- mains yet to be collected into a system, let us en- rich the noble profession of law with what we can pick up, while ranging along the various walks of human knowledo-e. CHAP. XLIII. You well know that C. Aculeo, the Roman Knight, who lived and still continues to live with me, a man whose genius is formed to excel in every art, but who has very little studied any other than this, is so much distinguished by his legal knowledge, that, with the exception of one 3 in ^ 'i ^ 1 V 91 in this companv, he surpasses the most skilful ia tL , otVssi.m. For the principles of it are obvious. c in daily practice, in common conversat.on ::a n. the loru.n ; and are not to be acqu-^ ^y mnch study or extensive reading. For the same ^n p s Lc published by many, and then after 1 J.rbal a.tey,ons. tr..^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ encouraoes the study of the ciy.l law, and at Hhe -reat pleasure .ud sat.staction ^vhich the knowledoe of it affords. For if a man delight ^n tlTe view of ancient times, he has a lively p.c- ure of antiquity presented him in eveiy part o the civil law, in the books of the F''^;* ' 'Xnd rt^^^ twelve tables ; and he learns withal the former . nc gr^t pleasure a.d satkfaCio..-] ^/^"-^^ ^J",']^* ,. flu. suffraac of all s.iccecdii.ft ages, for what he has Sn:: r Xe certainly never was so exceUent a d- It onlwr.ormea, as was that of the twelve tab - /or se en! property ; and had the pubUe liberty obta.ncd a» stZl rZJ, the constitution of the llo.an govcrmnen . Strong a , immortal. In the i„ son,e -_"-; -f '^ - , ;i„aer at the neglect, which, mean time, tlioUj^n >\«- j"^^ j •, ,? -,f «nmp as appears f.om the words of Cicero, prevailed at IW .ith regard to this study, we perhaps u. England - as de feetivc in the knowledge of our constitution. I h.s ;s a mo.t S::hleo.ni.io,.i,. the education "f yo»nS gentlc^men w o have a prospect of bein? one day members of the B t h >. Kislature, where the most in,port.ant points as to P'^^^^^^"^ gisiaiuii, • ,.,„fu,v and where even many private war turn upon principles of la« , ana wn 'never causes and matters of right, that come before the-, ca" neve be either understood or decided but by a '^f ^"^ '^^^^^^^^ short, wliat Cicero here puts into the mouth of Crassus too applicable to o.ir own time and country. 92 usage of words, and peculiar customs instruct him m the practice and history of our ancestors. I/a person be intent upon the study of civil po- lity, a study which Scsvola says belongs not to an orator, but to a different branch of knowledge he sees all of it comprehended in the twelve U- bles, where the whole system of civil duties and subordinations is described. Or, if he be capti- vated wah the irresistible charms of philosophy, I will boldly venture to say, that the source of all lis disquisitions is contained in the civil law 1-or ,n the pursuit of this the greatest dignity h to be acquired; when we see sincere, just, and honest endeavours crowned with honourable re- wards and distinctions ; while the vices and frauds of mankind are punished with loss, disgrace, ciiains, whips, banishment, and death. And we are taught, not by vague and doubtful reason- ings, but by the authority and sanction of a law to subdue our passions, to check all impuie desires' to guard our own property, and to refrain our tlioughts, our eyes, and our hands from the pro- perty of others. ^ CHAP. XLIV. Though the public may be offended, I cannot help speaking my sentiments on the subject. In- deed, the single volume of the laws of the twelve tables appears to nic more useful, to one who would study the fundamental |)rinciples of equity than the libraries of all the philosophers that ever hved, both as it regards weight of authority, and 4 93 ^ extent of utility. But if the love of our country is as it ought to be, our ruling passion ; a passion hat is so strong and so natural, as to induce Ulysses, the wisest of mankind, to prefer tht barren Ithaca, built like a nest upon a craggy rock, to immortality itself: ^vith what ardovi. ought we to love a country that is superior to all other countries, as being the seat of valour, em- pire and dignity ! It is the sense, the manners S^'c^overnment of this country that we ought firstto be acquainted with, both because she is our common parent, and because we ought to pre sume that the plan of government, upon which r constitution was founded, discovers equa wisdom with that conduct by which her powe be"n reared. You will likewise feel the most CO dial satisfaction arising from the knowledge of L law. while you perceive how much o^ .ices- tors excelled, in wisdom, the rest of mankind , Tf wS you must be convinced by comparing the isy tem of laws with those of Lycurgus, Dr CO nd Solon. For it is hardly credible how fn:%:;ted. and almost ridiculous, all other sj.- terns are in comparison with «"•• P^^"" ^ J^ ^^^ daily and long-continued conversation upon this subject, and 1 always preferred the sagacity of our coilntrymen to that of all other nations Pe- cially the Greeks. For these reasons, Sc^vola, I affirmed, that the knowledge of the civil law i^ necessary to those who want to be accomplished orators. 1 \ f 9i ' CHAP. XLV. Give me leave now to observe, that nobody can be .gnorant bow much honour, influence, and d.gnity It ensures to tliose who are at the head of this profession. I„ Greece, men of the meanest rank hue tliemseives out, for a trifling fee. as assistants to an orator in a trial, and a,^ hence caWtdagaus. On the contrary, in Rome, every man of the greatest quality and figure, like ^lius Jjcxtus, whom, for his knowle•( I U^ V •» I t 4 > t '1. 9S such a one as all his countrymen, not to say all princes and nations, ought to consult. Are you uncertain as to the measures yoii should pursue ? By my advice the wavering ie- come decided ; and I dismiss them 171 possession of that msdom, which shall hereafter secure their affairs from perplexity. Now it is beyond dispute, that the house of a lawyer is the oracle of the whole city. For the truth of this I appeal to the hall oFQuintus Mu- cius, which, though infirm and advanced in years, is now the daily resort of multitudes of ci- tizens, and frequented by men of the greatest quality. CHAP. XL VI. What I am now going to say does not require any long explanation ; That an orator ought to be acquainted with the public acts that relate to matters of state and government, and likewise with history and the records of antiquity; for, as while he pleads in private causes he must often have recourse to the civil hiw, the knowledge of which is, for this reason, as I have already stated, necessary to an orator ; so in causes, that are discussed in the assemblies of the people, or in the senate, the events of ancient and modern times, the sanctions of political justice, the science of government, ought to be as intimately known to those orators who engage in the common- wealth, as if they were professed subjects of their study. For what we are now in search of is not V u t t w 96 an ordinary pleader, not a frothy declaimer, but such a man as may be the high priest of his pro- fession ; a man who, notwithstanding the rich endowments nature has bestowed upon mankind, shall appear to be divine ; one whose qualifica- tions, as a man, shall not seem to have been formed upon earth, but the peculiargiftof heaven: one who, dignified by the name of an orator, and not by the insignia of a herald, can walk unhurt in the front of his enemies : one whose tongue can expose to the hatred of his countrymen, and to punishment, fraud and guilt ; and under the protection of his genius can free innocence from the penalties of the law : who can rouse a spirit- less, desponding people to glory, reclaim them from infatuation, point their rage against the wicked, or sooth their resentment, if exaspe- rated at the worthy > In short, one who, by his eloquence, can either awaken or compose all the emotions of the human soul, from what- ever motive or cause they may proceed. It would be an egregious mistake in any man to imagine that this power has been explained by those who , have wrote upon eloquence, or can be by me in this narrow compass ; such a man must not only be unacquainted with my insuflficiency, but even with the greatness of the subject. It is true, since you insisted on it, I have pointed out, in the method I thought most proper, the fountains from whence you may draw, and the roads that lead to this study ; not that I pretend to conduct you in person, for that would be an infinite and a useless labour; I, for my part, have shewn you i f { ^\ 97 you the way, and, as is usually done, pointed with my finger to the fountains. CHAP. XLVII. Purely, replies .Aluclus, to me it appears that you have said enough, and more than enough, to instigate them, if they are really ambitious of ex- celling: for as the renowned Socrates used to say he ha^ gained his end, if, by his instruction, any person was eflTectually induced to study and to practise virtue ; because, whoever is once in ear- nest in preferring no character to that of being a worthy man, will find very easy work in all tlie remaining part of the study ; in like manner, I am persuaded that if you have a mind to acquire those principles which Crassus has explained in his discourse, the door which has thus been open- ed to you will be very easy of admission. It is true, answers Sulpicius, that what we have heard lays us under great obligations, and gives us much pleasure. But we are at a loss, Crassus, for a few things more. The first respects what you but slightly noticed, I mean the art itself; since you owned, that, so far from disregarding its forms you had studied them. If you will explain these a little more fully, you will satisfy our eager curiosity : for now we have before us what things we ought to pursue ; a point indeed of great con- sequence ; but we further wish to be acquainted with the road, and other means that lead to their attainment. Suppose, replies Crassus, we H apply ; 98 apply to Antony, who, a little vliile ago, la- mented that he pubhsbea a small ^vovk upon th,s subjeet, to explain his sentiments more . fully than they are given in that puWicat.on, and bus to unfold to us the mysteries ot eloquence ; because, what I have said, has been to engage you :T,ove easily to stay with me, an.l m ^--1- "^^ rather with your pleasure than my ^^^^f^'-^ With all mv heart, answers SulpuMus ; to., t.om Zt Antony shall deliver, we sball learu your sentiments. Tben, says Crassns, we request ) ou Antony, since that task is, by tbe sobcuat.ons of these young gentlemen, imposed upon pe - sons of onr years, to explahi your opnnon of the matter in question. CHAP. XLVllI. 1 ctEARLY perceive, replies Antony, that I can- not evadeyour solicitations, not only as n,y opi- nion is asked respecting poans m winch I lave neither knowledge nor exper.ence, but as ley. will not permit mc to avoicl what of aU othe I n,ost disl.ke, and what I generally avo.ded at tlu. bar; which was speaking after you Crassu. But 1 will enter the more boldly upon the task you impose upon me, fron. this consideration that I hope the same thing will happen to me n. Ins dis- course, as usually happens at the bar; ha Jo embellishments of language are expecte* ; toi 1 am not now to speak of an art I never learned, but of my own practice : and tbe very observa- tions 1 have entere'. If they are not approved by men of your great learning, you must blam.e your own unreasonableness, in demanding to know from me what I did not know myself. At the same time, you ought to acknowledge my wish to oblige you, as it is not from my own choice that I so readily comply with your re- quest. Proceed, my friend, rejoins Cras«"^ ^ *"*^^ venture to answer for it, that vou will deliver nothing but with the good sense that will give us no reason to repent of having compelled you to speak upon this subject. For my part, replies the other, I will proceed, and do what in my judgment ought to be previously done in all dis- putes ; which is, that the subject of debate should be defined, lest the conversation should deviate from the object in view, which is unavoidably the case, when those who converse affix to it different notions. For, supposing it were asked, in what consists the skill of a «:eneral, I should think it right, in the first place, to determine what constitutes a general ; and having shewn him to be the person to whom the command in war is entrusted, I should then add wdiat relates to an army, to a camp, to marching troops, to engage- ments, to sieges, to convoys, to forming and shunning ambuscades, and other matters that properly belong to a state of warfare. Whoever had a perfect knowledge of these, him I would pronounce to be a general. I would allege for examples the African! and the Maximi ; to- H 2 gether .,#• A fi rti 98 apply to Antony, vvho, a little while ago, la- Sea that he- published a snudl wovk upon this subiect, to explain his sentnncnts nioie , tlVt^ai they a, e glen h. that pnl«^^^^^^^^^ thus to unfold to us the mystev.es ot elo(,uence . because, what I have said, has been to engage you ..ore easily to stay with n>e, and n. coup, nee ,ather with your pleasure than n.y ^'-- -"-^ " With all niy heart, answers SulpuMUs ; to., t.om wh t Antony shall delive.-, we shall leav, your sentiments Then, says Crassus, we re<,uest you, Tnt" since tha; tLk is, by tlK. sol.e..at.ons of he;e young gentlemen, imposed upo.. per- sons of our years, to explain your op.n.on of the matter in quest.on. CHAP. XLVUI. I ctKARLY perceive, replies Antony, that I can- not evadeyour sohcitatlons, not only as n.y c^p.- „ion .s asked respecting po.nts .n wh. h I he neither knowledge nor experience, bt a they :^ I not permit me to avoid what ot al on.ers I n,ost dislike, and what I generally avo.ded at tl^ bar • which was speaking after you Crassu . But i wi'll enter the ,nore boUUy upo.J the task you i„,pose upon n.e, fron. this consulerat.on h I hope the sa,ne thir.g will happen to me .n h s d.- couvse, as usually happens at the bar ; la no embellishments of language are expected , tor L am not now to speak of an art I never learned, ".t of my own practice : and the very observa- ^:„s 1 have entered into n.y common p ace \ ■ D9 book a.-e of this nature ; as thev were not sua:- gcsted to mc by any study, but by iny own ex- perience in speaking. If they are not approved by men of your great learning, you must blame your own unreasonableness, in demanding to know from me what I did not know myself. At the same time, you ougb.t to acknowledge my wish to oblige you, as it is not from my own choice that I so readily comply with your re- quest. Proceed, my friend, rejoins Crassus, I will venture to answer for it, that vou will deliver nothing but with the good sense that will give us no reason to repent of having compelled you to speak upon this subject. For my part, replies the other, I will proceed, and do what in my judgment ought to be previously done in all dis- putes ; which is, that the subject of debate should be defined, lest the conversation sliould deviate from the object in view, which is unavoidably^ the case, when those who converse affix to it different notions. For, supposing it were asked, in what consists the skill of a «:eneral, I should think it right, in the first place, to determine what constitutes a general ; and having shewn him to be the person to whom the command in war is entrusted, I should then add what relates to an army, to a camp, to marching troops, to engage- ments, to sieges, to convoys, to forming and shunning ambuscades, and other matters that properly belong to a state of warfare. Whoever had a perfect knowledge of these, him 1 would pronounce to be a general. I would allege for examples the Africani and the Maximi ; to- H 2 gether '\ 100 getlicr with Hannibal, Epaminondas, and such other heroes. But were I asked, who is he that is most experienced in public affairs? I would shew him to be the man who knows and employs the advantages by which the welfare of a state is acquired and improved; I w^ould insist that such a man ought to be regarded as the guardian of the state, and the cause of the public welfare; and here I would recommend the examples of Publius Lentulus, who once was the leading man in Rome, the elder T. Gracchus, Q. Metullus, P. Africanus, C. Laehus, with numberless others, both in Rome and other states. But if it were asked me, who can properly be termed a lawyer ? I would answer ; the man who knows how to give the most salutary advice respecting those customs and laws by which the several members of the community are regulated; I w^ould name S. jEUus, M. Manilius, and P. Mucins, as men of this character. CHAP. XUX. But to come to professions of a less important nature : if the description of a musician, of a grammarian, or a poet, were required, I would ia like manner explain the object which each pro- fesses to have in view ; and the precise qualifica- tions, beyond which nothing more can be deemed necessary, and, finally, the philosopher himself, who pretends to comprehend, within the circle of his own knowledge, all the arts and sciences, I would I 101 would describe to be him, who studies the causes and nature of all things divine and human, and who knows and pursues what leads to a happv life. But as to the orator, whose profession isl the immediate object of our enquiry, I do not in- deed conceive him such a person as Crassus would have him to be ; for he seems to me to engross, to this sino-lc otlicc, the knowledcre of all the arts. At the same time, I allow him to be a person who, when pleading at the bar, knows to select the words that are most likely to impress his hearers and the arguments that are most suited to render his cause probable. Such a man I define to be an orator, and I would, at the same time, have him correct in pronunciation and action, and moreover to be endued with a certain polish : but our friend Crassus seems not to confine an orator within the bounds of that art, but within those of his own genius, which is next to infinite. For^i his discourse put into the hands of an orator the helm of government, and I own, Scasvola, I was a good deal surprised that you granted him this concession ; for I have very often seen the senate induced by a plain unlaboured speech to agree with you upon the most important aflfairs of state. But if M. Scaurus, who I hear is at his country seat not far from this, a man deeply versed in the affairs of government, were to hear you, Crassus, arrogate to yourself all the weight of his dig-^ nity and political knowledge, he would, believe me, soon be with us in person, and, by his sig- nificant looks, frighten us out of all this prating. For though he is no contemptible speaker, yet, in II 3 matters IOC matters of consequence, he trusts mote to hh good sense than his eloquence. Give me leave to !>ay farther, that supposing a man possessed of both accomplishments, supposing him to take the lead in public debates, and to be an excel- lent senator, nevertheless he may not be a good orator ; or supposing another possessed of elo- quence, and at the san^.c time of political saga- city, his knowledge is not by any means a neces-. sary consequence of his skill in oratory. These qualities are not only very different, but entirely unconnected with each other ; nor did M. Cato, P. Africanus, Q. Rlctellus, and C. La^lius, who were all of them eloquent men, by the same means attain to excellence in speaking and to dignity in the state. ClIAP. L. FoK there is nothing, cither in the nature of things, nothing in any la\v^ or custom, to hinder a man from mastering more than one art. If Pericles thcretbrc was a most elo(juent man^ antl at the same time a leader in all the public deli- berations of the state for many years, we are not hence to conclude that his abilities in both are owing to the same cause ; nor, if P. Crassus was a good speaker, and at the same time a good lawyer, that the knowledge of the civil law is for this reason necessarily connected with elo- quence. For if every man who is eminent in some one art shall likewise associate with it another, ^ the 103 the consequence will be, that the profession, thus associated, will appear but a branch of that in which he is eminent. Otherwise w^e may pre- tend, that to play at tennis, or at pebbles, is a property of the civil law, because P. Mucins is very skilful in both. And by the same rule, the men, termed by the Greeks natural philoso- phers, ought to be accounted poets, because Empedocles the naturalist wrote a finished poem. Even the philosophers themselves, who claim every subject as belonging to their study, dare not maintain that oeometrv and music are within the province of phik)sophy, because it is allowed that Plato was in the highest degree master of those sciences. However, if you wall insist upon subjecting all arts to eloquence, you had better say, that as eloquence ought not to be meagre and unadorned, but enriched, and, as it were, decorated by a variety of ornaments, he is a good orator who has heard, who has seen, who has meditated upon, and read of, the greatest num- ber of objects which he does not possess as his own, but as auxiliaries to his profession : for I own that an orator ought to have address, expe- rience and correctness, and to be not a guest or a stranger, but as it were an inmate of the commonM'calth. CHAP. LI. iVoR indeed, Crassus, am I at all impressed with those pompous declamations, which, in your late discourse, you borrowed from the philosophers, H 4 when lo-i 105 when you said that no man could either inflame, or, when inflamed, allay the passions of an au(Ucnce, effects by which the chief power of an orator is discerned, unless he has a clear insight into the nature of things, the manners, and views of mankind : in which case, philosophy becomes the necessary study of an orator; a study in which we have known men, even of the most con- summate genius, and the greatest leisure, waste their wliole lives ; men, whose various and ex- tensive attainments, so far from despising, I ad- mire ; but, as for us, whose business lies with the people, and in the forum, it is sufiicient if we know and can talk just so much of the manners of mankind as to shew us not to be unacquainted with the world. For did ever any sensible orator, when he wanted to excite the anger of the judge against his adversary, hesitate at this because he did not know whethv.r anger was a fervour of the mind, or a desire of revenge ? Was there ever a man, who, when he wanted to agitate the judges or the people, with any other of the human passions, expressed himself in the same terms with those philosophers, some of whom say that the mind ought not to be susceptible of any emotions, and that they who, in pleading, excite the passions of the judges are guilty of detesta- ble practices, while others, wishing to appear not so rigid, but accommodating themselves to real life, maintain, that the emotions of the mind oiiglit not to be violent, but rather to be tranquil? But an orator, by his language, ex- aggerates every thing that, in common life, is deemed I deemed evil, troublesome, and to be avoided. At the same time, be magnifies, by his eloquence, those objects, which to the generality of man- kind are inviting and lovely : nor does he want to be thought so very wise among fools, as that his hearers should take him either for a pedant, or a minute philosopher of Greece ; for while they approve of the genius and admire the good sense of the orator, they will take it very ill that they are regarded as uninformed. But he seizes the passions of his audience, and so charms their senses as not to need the definitions of philoso- phers, or to examine whether the chief good is seated in the soul or the bodv : whether it is to be defined by virtue or pleasure, or whether these two can unite together ; or, finally, whether the opinion be just which some hold, that we can arrive at a certain knowledge of nothing : — all these are points, I confess, of great and exten- sive learning, and which admit of many copious and various reasonings. But, Crassus, we are discussing the merits of a very different ques- tion ; we seek a clear-headed man, sa2:acious hv nature and improved by practice ; one who has good sense enough to perceive what are the incli- nations, the sentiments, the opinions, and the hopes of his countrymen, and of the persons to whose understandings he addresses his discourse. CHAP. LII. He ought to have within himself, as it wTre, the springs which set in motion men of every fl ' kind. 106 kind, age, rank, and to sympathise with the feehngs of those with whom^hc has or is hkely to have any dealings. But as to the writings of philosophers, let him reserve those to the leisure and repose of a private discussion, like the pre- sent ; lest, if he should at any time he obliged to speak upon justice and honour, he should imitate Plato ; who, in endeavouring to explain these points in his writings, created a new community, to be found only in his hooks ; so widely did his sentiments of justice differ from the customs of life and the institutions of states. But if these maxims are to be approved of by the public, who, Crassus, w^ould have allowed you, though possess- ed of distinction and influence beyond any other in the state, to express yourself in this manner in a large assembly of your countrymen r ' Deliver us from our Cala.aiitiks ; deliver us out of the Jaws of those whose cruelty cannot be satiated with our blood ; suHer us not to be slaves to any but yourselves, to whom we owe and are willinir to pav due submission. " I omit those calamities into which, as the philosophers main- tain, a brave man cannot fall. 1 pass over those jaws, from which you wanted to be delivered, lest i Deliver us from our calamtk^,'] These arc the words of Crassus in an oration whicli he pronounced before the people upon a ditference that happened betwixt the senators and the knights. This fraj^mcnt is suOicient to shew the distress to which the senate was reduced upon that occasion. ^ I omit those calamities.'} The reader, in this and many other passages, will perceive, that Cicero alludes to the opinion of the Stoics,' who admitted of no mediocrity in principles, and made no allowances for passions and circumstances. 107 lest your blood, by an iniquitous proceeding, should be absorbed ; a circumstance which, ac- cording to them, cannot happen to a wise man'; but you ventured to go so far as to say that not only you, but all the senate, whose cause you was then pleading, wTre enslaved. Can virtue, my friend, be enslaved, according to those authors Avhose dictates you comprehend in the office of an orator ? Virtue, the only thing that is eternally free; virtue, that while bodies are taken in war, or bound in chains, ought still to assert her own freedom, the loss of which nothing can compen- sate. But you farther added, that the senate not only could, but ought to be the slaves of the people. What philosopher is so effeminate, so tame, so de- pendent upon corporeal pleasure and pain, for hap- piness or misery, as to admit of this doctrine ? That the senate should be the slaves of the people, they to whom the people have entrusted, as it were, the reins of government where witli to check themselves ? CHAP. LI 1 1. In IS, in my opinion, was uttered with divine energy, but ^ P. Rutilius Rufus, a learned man, and a philosopher, maintained tl.at what you said was not only improper, but l)ase and cri- minal. The same person used to blame "" Ser- vius * P. Rutilius Ili/J'us.} Cicero has here introduced the charac- ter ofa truestoic in the person of this Rutilius. •" Servius Galba.~\ This Galba was a very artful, cunning man ; when he was governor in Spain he was guilty of great oppres- sion and cruelty, and therefore impeached upon his return. 108 vius Galba, whom he said he well icuRMnbered, because, in an action brought against him by L. Sciibonius, he excited the compassion of the people, when M. Cato, the severe and implacable enemy of Galba, declaimed against him with great bitterness and vehemence, before the people, in a speech which he himself has published among his antiquities. The circumstance, how- ever, Vor which Rutilius blamed Galba, was be- cause he had raised as it were upon liis shoulders the young son of Caius Sulpicius Gallus, wdio was his relation, and thereby drew tears from the people, upon their remembering how dear his father had been to them ; and recommended himself and his two infant sons to the protection of the Roman citizens ; and had, in the manner usually done by soldiers, without observing the usual forms, left the people of Rome the guardians of those orphans. Rutilius said, that, by those pathetic strokes, Galba, though detested by the people at that time, was acquitted ; and I lind the same assertion made in the writings of Cato, M'ho ob- serves, that, had it not been for the children and his tears, he had certainly been condemned. Rutilius expressed great indignation at all this, and said, that banishment, and even death, was preferable to such humiliating su|)plication5 ; and he not only said this, but proved, by his practice, that he thought as he spoke ; for he was, as you know, a model of integrity, and though no man in Rome was more upright in his conduct and in his principles, he not only refused to supplicate the judges, but to use any other means of defending himself, but the 109 the simple language of truth. He allotted some part of his defence to Cotta, a most eloquent youth, the son of his sister. Q. Mucius likewise had some share in that defence, and spoke in his own way, without pomp, but with purity and perspicuity. But if you, Crassus, who a little Avhilc ago maintained that an orator, in order to perfect himself in eloquence, must have recourse to the disquisitions of philosophers, had then pleaded, and had you been at liberty to have spoken for Rutilius, not as a philosopher, but in your own character as an orator, though those wicked men were really the cause of much evil to the state, and deserved severe punishment, yet the power of your eloquence v/ould have era- dicated from their inmost breasts the sense of their guilt ; now we have lost the man, who, in making his defence, spoke as if he had been tried in Plato's Utopian commonwealth. Not a sigh was heard ; no shouts of approbation proceeded from any of the advocates ; not a pang was felt ; not a complaint was made ; nobody implored the state ; nobody interceded for the accused. In short, nobody so much as stamped the ground with his foot ; for fear, I suppose, lest it might offend the Stoics* CHAP. LIV. This Roman senator imitated the ancient So- crates, who, though he surpassed all other men in wisdom and purity, was yet tried for his life, and 110 and at his trial spoke in such a manner as to ap- pear not a suppliant or a prisoner, but the lord and master of his judges. So that when Lysias, a very eloquent orator, brought him a ready com- posed oration, wliich he might liavc committed to memory, and repeated in his defence, he, on reading it, which he did without objection, acknowledged it to have been well written ; bat, he added, if you brought me Sicyonian shoes, that were very neat, and just fitted me, I sliould refuse to wear them, because they little become a manlv character; so 1 think this oration is elo- quent and animated, but not strong and magna- nimous. The consequence of this was, that he too was condemend ; not only in the fust votes, by which the judges only determine whether they shall condenm or acquit, but in the sentence which, by their laws, they are afterwards obliged to pass. For at Atliens, when the accused was condemned of any charge not capital, the punish- ment admitted of being extenuated. When in consequence of the first sentence, the accused was left to the power of the judges, he was asked, what he could chiefly plead in mitigation of punishment? Socrates being asked tbis (juestion, answered, that he deserved to be distinguished witli the hisrhest honours and rewards ; and that provisions should be served up to him in tlie ^ Pry taneum, every day and in a public manner ; which in (ireece is looked upon as the highest mark of honour. This answer so much exaspe- rated ^^rytaiuvm.'] This was a place in Athens where their public affairs were transacted. \ 111 rated the judges, that they condemned to death that most innocent person, who, if he had been acquitted, which I own is nothing to us, though I cannot help wishing his r.cquittal, on account of his great genius, how can we bear with these philosophers, who (though Socrates was condemn- ed for no other crime but his want of Eloquence) pretend, that all the rules of speaking are to be derived from them } I contend not with them about the superiority or truth of the two pro- fessions, I only affirm, that eloquence is different from philosophy, and may, without it, be per- fect CHAP. LV. X OR now I perceive, Crassus, the reason why you so warmly extolled the civil law ; wliich, while you were speaking of it, I did not perceive. In the first place, you recommended yourself to Scaevola, whom all of us have the greatest reason to 15ve, for his great affability of temper. His profession, which you found unendowed, unat- tended, and uu.ulorned, you set off' by enriching it with the treasures of lani(>n, it is no difficult matter for an orator to find some authority, from which he may receive weapons I to defend the part he supports, and direct them when thus received with the nervous f^ce of eloquence. But, (I speak with the indulgence of my good friefid Scievola) when you defended the cause of your father-in-law from writino^s and rules of law, did you not uri^re, in vour de.- fence, the principle of equity, tl>e right of testa- ments, and the intention of the deceased? But give me leave to say, as I was myself present and heard you, that you obtained the greater part of the votes by your wit, your humour, and youf de- ^ licate strokes of raillery. When you derided the mighty discovery made by ScaevoJa. and admired his penetration in finding out, Ihat a man, before he dies, must be born ; when you cited many authorities from the decrees of the senate, frorn common life, and common conversation, with much wit, raillery, and acuteness, all tending to prove, that if we are to follow the letter more than the spirit of a deed, justice in no- wise can be attained. The trial was conducted indeed with a great deal of mirth and pleasantry,* but I could not understand that the knowiedoe of the civil law was of any service to you ; but I 2 your # 116 your extraordinary powers of eloquence, joined with consummate elegance, was of the greatest avail. Mucins, himself the defender, and, as it were, thechampionof paternal inheritance, when lie pleaded against you in that cause, what did he display that seemed taken from the study of the civil law? What statute did he quote ? What obscurity did he clear up to the unlearned in any part of his speech ? His whole ohject was to prove, that the letter of a deed ought to have the greatest weight. But what is this more than every school-boy practises under his master? as, in causes of this kind, scholars are taught sometimes to defend the letter, and at others the equity of a deed. And is it likely that, in the ° cause of the soldier, had you appeared in behalf of the soldier's claim, that you would have placed the stress of your pleading upon the precedent of Hostilius, and not in those eloquent powers of address which are so peculiar to yourself? Had you defended the testament, you would have shewn that the right of wills was fundamentally called in question in this trial ; or had you de- fended the cause of the soldier, you would in your own way have raised his father from the grave ; you would have placed him before our eyes ; he would have embraced his son, and with tears in his eyes would have recommended him to the protection o Cause off he soldier, &c.] Pontius, viho had sent his son to the war against tl»e Cimbri, persuaded by a false information that hr was there slain, appointed by his wiU Torquatus for his heir, and died : but his son, his lawful heir, on his return from the aruiy, jot the wiH to be set aside by a decree of the ^«nat«. Ki '& *# Ml7 protection of the Centumviri. By heavens I he would have forced the marble walls to weep aloud, so that the maxim to decide agreeably to the intention of the testator, written in the twelve tables, which you prefer to all the libraries in the world, would have had no more weight, than if it had been recorded in an old ballad. CHAP. LVHL As to the charge of indolence you brought against the young men who neglect to study this very easy art ; — that it is easy of attainment will not be allowed by those who pride them- belves upon the acquisition of it, as though they had compassed the most difficult task in the world. In the next place, consider, I beseech you, what 1/ou have said, namely, that it is a very *easy art ; at the same time you owned that it was not absolutelv an art, but that some time or other, if somebody should learn another art for reducing this into an art, then it would be an art. Moreover, with regard to its being delightful, these gentlemen will freely make over to you all their shareof the pleasure,and are contented to be without it ; nor is there one amongst them, who having any thing to study, would notchuse rather to commit to memory the ^ Teucer of Pacuvius, than r Easy art.'] I ha?c purposely preserved the repetition of the word art, because Autony seems to intend that it should throw the reasoning of Crassus into a ridiculous light. ^ Teucer of Pacuiius,'] This Pacuvius^ the son of the fa- I Z inous 118 than the statutes of Manilius, respecting bargains and sales. As to your opinion, that the love of our country ought to stimulate us to study the institutions of our ancestors, do not you see that the old statutes either are become obsolete, or repealed by new laws ? But you think that the «^ civii law renders men good, because it enacts re- \vards tor virtue, and punishment for vice. I al- W'avs was of opinion that if virtue can be com- municared by reason, it is to be communicated by precept and persuasion, and not by menaces and compulsion. For even without the know- ledge of any positive law, we may be sensible of the l)eauty of this maxim, to guard against evil. But with regard to myself, to v/hom you concede as a privilege peculiar to myself, that I am able to act in causes without the least knowledge of the law, mows poet Ennius, belnsj hiTiself an excellent tragedian, was born at Brinulisiuni, and died in extreme old a^je ; for (Juinti, lian says, he lived about ninety years. We have kis epitaph in A. Geliius, b. 1. ch. 24. thus wrote by himbeif, which may serve to shew his great modesty. AdoU'H'tnsj tamen ttsi properas^ hoc fe saxum rogafy Uii ad se aspicias : dtiude quod scriptust le^fis, Ilic sunt podx Marcfi Pacuiiei sita Ossa, Hoc vok'bam nei^cius nc esse^. Vale, ' Virtue can be communicated.'] The pagan philosophers, qs woUas the Christian diviikes, had their disputes upon the subject of virtue; namely, if one cou d be virtuous by the assistance of nature alone, without the assistance of reason, or if they both contributed. Socrates was of the last opinion, but others de- clared for the 6rst, sa} ing, that virtue depended upon tho con» stitufi ^n oi our temper. The Peripatetics followed the mean between both exirt'mes, for they taught that there is a seed of virtue inaplanted in our souls that flourishes by supernatural aid. 119 law, my answer, Crassus, is, that I never either studied the civil law, nor Was I ever sensible of any loss for not knowing it, in those causes which I was capableof managing in our courts. For it is one thing to be a complete master of any par- ticular profession, and another to be not unac- quainted with common life, and the general prac- tice of the world. Which of us would not go round his estates, or decline looking into his affairs in the country, eithcM* for j^rofit or delight ? Yet there is no man so devoid of sight and sense, as to be absolutely ignorant of all tliat relates to seed-time and harvest, to the pruning of trees and vines, at what time of the year, and after what manner they are done. If therefore any gentleman was to survey his estate, or to give any orders to his steward or his manager in the country respect- ing agriculture, must he make himself master oi the works of • Mago the Carthaginian ? Or ought we to be contented with the common knowledge we have acquired on this subject ? Why therefore, in like manner, may we not be sufficiently skilled in the civil law, especially as we are worn otit by the business and practice of the forum, so far, at least, as not to appear entire strangers in our own country ? But if some cause more intricate than usual were laid before us, do you imagine it would be very difficult for us to consult • Mago the Carthaginian,'] The author of eight and twenty books upon country affairs ; which were judged to be of so great use, that DiOnysius of Utica, by order of the senate, translated them into Latin. There remains to this day some fragment of the said work in the Vatican library at Rome. I 4 120 consult our friend Scaevola, though the very people who laid their causes before us bring every thing to us ready consulted and prepared ? But if the dispute should turn upon a matter of fact, upon marches which lie at a distance, upcn deeds and prescriptions, wc must tlien make ourselves masters of more knotty and more intricate points. If we are to explore the laws or the opinions of eminent professional men, have we reason tQ feai\ though we have not studied the civil law fron^ our youth, that we shall not be abl^ to mastcf these ? CHAP. LIX. I^VT you will ask, is the knowledge of the civil law then of no benefit to an orator r I cannot affirm this of any study, especially with regard to the person whose eloquence ought to adorn the different subjects he treats of ; but those quahties that arc indispensable to an orator are so many, so great, so difficult, that I am unwilling his at- tention should be occupied in too many pursuits. How^ can any one deny that an orator's manner of speaking may not be improved by the grace- ful action of Roscius, vet it never came into anv man's head to persuade those young gentlemen wlio study rhetoric to practise the airs of a player, while they are studying action. To an orator what is so necessarv as a ^ood voice ? Yet no*one, who wishes to speak well, will ever with my con- currence make the manai3:ement of his voice the principal object of his attention, as is the case with 121 with the Greeks and the tragic actors, who for many years together declaim in their seats, and every day, before they pronounce a word, in their beds gradually raise their voice, and when they have done pleading sit dowm, and, as it were, measure it by a scale, from the sharpest to the fullest tones* Were we to follow such a practice, our clients would lose their causes as often as we attempted it, ' before we could get half through tlie scale. But if it be improper for us to be at much pains about our gesture, which is of great service to an orator, and our voice, which of itself is a powerful auxiliary of eloquence ; and if, in improving both, we are to regard the conveniency and the leisure which we have from our daily practice ; how much less important is it to descend to the study of the civil law ? which, in general, can be under- stood without a professional knowledge of it, and is so far different from the voice and action, that these, upon any emergency, cannot be derived from another quarter; whereas all the utility of the civil law in any cause, may, on the shortest notice, be known citlier from books or its professors. For this reason, those very eloquent men have their assistants, who are skilled in law affairs, though thc}^ themselves know nothing of the matter, and those assistants, as you observed a little while ago, are called solicitors. In this respect, our country- men take a much better method in i^ruardino- the law /»i * Before ae couid get half through the scale."] All this pas. sage for two or three lines before can scarcely be translated ; the original is pean em aitt munlortmy which probably answers to our toi/ala* laws and the rights of their country by the au* thority of the most eminent men. But the Greeks, if they thought it necessary that an orator should himself be skilled iu the civil law, and not leave every thing to a solicitor, would never have neg- lected this precaution. CHAP, LX. As to what you say about old age being secured against solitude, by the knowledge of the civil law, that may be admitted, for they commonly inake a great deal of money by it ; but the sub* ject of our enquiry respects not what is useful to us, but what is necessary to an orator. And, be* cause we derive from one artist iu his way a great many properties resembling those of an orator; ""the same Roscius used to observe, that the older he irrew he would render the musical notes, and the recitative, more slow and remiss; but if he who was bound down to certain numbers and di- mensions, studied how to indulge his old age, with how much greater ease may we not only re- lax, but even alter the whole strain ? For you, Crassus, must be sensible how manifold and va- rious are the uiodcs of eloquence, and I know not but you yourself prove this, since you liavc long " The same Roscius."] It would appear from fhis, and many other passages of antiquity, that the Roman players, while they were acting, spoke to certain airs of music which accom- panied their Yoice. 2 long spoken much more deliberately, and with less vehemence, than you used, and yet tli smoothness of this grave manner is as much ap- proved of as all the couunanding power of energy you formerly exerted ; and there have been many speakers, who, n the manner said to be used by Scipio and La^lius, always deUvered themselves in a smooth manner, and never, Hke Scrvius GaU ba, exerted themselves with loudness and vio- lence. But, supposing you are neither willing nor able to practise this at such a period of life, would you be afraid that your house, the house of such a man, such a citizen, if unfrequented by legal disputants, would be deserted by others.^ Indeed so far am I from that opinion, that I not only think that the comfort of old age does not consist in the multitude of those who come to consult upon law affairs, but would long for your dreaded solitude, as a refuge in which 1 might repose ; for I look upon retirement as the most charming solace of old age. As to the other points, even though they are useful, I mean the knowledire of historv and the municipal law, ''the progress of antiquity, and variety of prece- dents, if at any time 1 have occasion for them, I would consult my friend Longinus, who is both a very worthy man, and extremely well versed in such « The progress of antiquity,'] Cicero probably means by the expression of iter antiquitatis^ which is in the original, the progress which the iaws of the twelve tables made from one country to another, before they were digested and became tht laws of Rome. 124 such matters ; neither am I against the advice ^hich you just now gave, that they should read, Lttend the discussion of every suhject, apply to every commendable study, and every branch of polite learning. But, indeed, Crassus, if they should resolve to follow vour dictates, I do not see what time they can have for accomplishing it ; you likewise seem to me to lay too severe a task upon gentlemen of that age, though I own it al- most necessary to the attamment of their object* For unpremeditated speaking upon causes that are proposed, and correct, digested declamations, together with the use of the pen, which, as you have well observed, form a finished orator, arc tasks which require effort and resolution ; and the comparison which you mentioned one ought to make betwixt his own and those of others com* positions, together with the extemporary practice of praising or reprehending, of defending or re- futing, the writings of another author, is no easy matter, either for the memory or the judg- ment to compass. CHAP, LXL But another observation which you made was truly formidable, and 1 fear more calculated to discourage than to promote the study of orato- ry ; for you insisted upon each of us being, as it were, a Roscius in his profession ; you said that rxcellence was not applauded in the degree that defect 125 defect excited disgust; yet I do not think that our exhibitions .are examined so critically nice as those of an actor. In proof of this, I have often seen an audience profoundly atten- tive to gentlemen of our profession, even though they were hoarse ; because the superior import- ance of the subject engages their attention ; but if iEsopus has but a little hoarseness he is hissed. For when people look for nothing more than to please their ears, they are offended with every circumstance that in the least takes off from that pleasure. But in eloquence there exist many properties which are interesting enough to please them ; and if all of these are not, as is generally the case, of the greatest consequence, it necessa- rily happens that those which are so should ap- pear admirable. But to return to the principal subject ; suppose an orator be a person, as Cras- sus has described him, who knows the most pro- per method of persuading; 1 would have him confined to the usual practice of this city and fo- rum. Quitting all other studies, however in- viting and noble, he should, as I may say, night and day press to this mark ; he should imitate Demosthenes, the Athenian, who is allowed to have been an excellent orator, whose application, it is said, was so indefatigable, that, by habit and perseverance, he surmounted the defects of na- ture. For having such an impediment in his speech, that he could not at first pronounce the first letter of the rhetorical art, he grew so cor- rect by art and practice, that he was thought to pronounce this letter as distinctly as any man of his 1-26 lib time, lie laboured, moreover, under great difficulty of breathing, yet, by suspending hh breath, he attained so tree an utterance, that iri one continued period, as may be seen in his works, he twice raised and lowered his voice. We are farther told, that putting pebbles into his mouth, he used in one breath to pronounce aloud a number of verses, and that too not standing, but walking, and mounting a steep ascent. I am, Crassus, entirely of the same ()|)ini()n with you, that young gentlemen ought to be quick- ened to study and application by such motives as these. As to the other accomplishments, which you have collected from the provinces of other professors, though a master of them all yourself, yet they are, I think, (juire distinct from what constitutes the proper business and office of an orator. CHAP. LXIL When" Antony had concluded, Cotta and Sul-* picius really seemed at a loss to know on whose side the truth lay. On this Crassus observed, you my friend have given us a speaker who is not much better than a mechanic : and I suspect that you have not expressed your own sentiments, but had recourse to that wonderful talent for re* fating, which is so peculiar to yourself, and which indeed forms one branch of an orator's profes- sion, but has, for some time, been appropriated by philosophers, especially those who used to speak f)n both sides of any question proposed to them, with H7 with the greatest readiness. But it never entered into my mhul, that what I had to do, especially in this company, was to delineate the qualifica- tions of a man, who dwells in the lower forms, of a court, and never rises above what the imme- diate nature of his cause requires. No, I fixed my attention upon a higher character, when I gave it as my opinion, that an orator, especially a Roman orator, ought to be destitute of no accomplishment. But as you have confined the profession of an orator within certain nar- row bounds, it will be the more easy for you to explain to us what you require, as to his duties and learning. But I think we may refer that to another day ; for at present we have said enough. Sc^vola, as he proposed to go to Tusculanum, should rest a little till the heat is abated, wliile we should, since the time of the day re- quires it, take the exercise necessary to our own health. When the company agreed to this, Sca^vola said, I wish indeed that I had not ap- pointed this day to sec Lailius at Tusculanum ; I should then have heard Antony with great pleasure; and rising up, he added, with a smile, really it did not give near so much pain, that An- tony pulled the civil law in pieces, as it gave me pleasure th^t he confessed he knew nothing of it. THE END OF THE FIRST DAY*S CONmiENCE. m M. TULLIUS CICERO ON THE CHARACTER OF AN ORATOR. THE SECOND CONFERENCE. CHAP. I. J\j.Y dear brother, if you remember, when wc were boys, we were firmly persuaded that Lucius Crassus knew but the rudiments of knowledge, and that Antony was entirely unac(|iiainted with learning ; there were many others of this opinion, who, to divert vvith greater ease our eagerness in the pursuit of eloquence, industriously circulated what 1 have just now advanced ; and inferred, if men while yet unlearned possessed the sound- est sense, and a wonderful eloquence, that all our labour must be in vain, and that the care which our excellent and wise father took of our education, proved no real benefit. We used, while yet boys, to confute these positions, by instances within our own family, our father, and our friend Caius Aculeo, and our uncle Lucius Cicero ; because our father, and Aculeo, who had married our aunt, and was a great favourite with Crassus, and our uncle, who accompanied Antony in liis journey to Cilicia, told us a great deal deal, with regard to his early attainments. And as we were pursuing, together with our cousins, the sons of Aculeo, those studies which Crassus approved, and received instruction from those teachers w^hom he employed, we understood (for though w^e were boys we had sense enough to see this), that he spoke the Greek language so well, that one would have though he was master of no other tongue, and that he proposed such questions to our teachers, which he himself dis- cussed in such variety of style, that nothing seemed new, or foreign, to his knowledge. As to Antony, though I had very often heard from my uncle, a person eminently informed, with what as- siduity he attended the discourses of the learned, both at Athens and Rhodes, yet, when I was but a very young man, I often put a great many questions to him, so far as it was consistent with that modesty which is natural to youth. I own, that at present I write nothing that is new to you, for, even at that time, I informed you, that in all the various subjects 1 touched upon, I never found him either a novice, or uninformed in any point, provided it lay in those arts of which I could form any judgment. But these two great characters differed in this, Crassus affected to appear not to be ignorant of, but to despise, those points, and to prefer, upon every subject, the good sense of his own countrymen to that of the Greeks : but Antony thought the best way to recommend his eloquence to the people, was to appear as if he had never learned any thing. Thus, the one thought he would have greater K weight IT 130 weight by despising and the other by seeming to know nothing at all of tlie Greeks. As to the views which each entertained in this, they are no- tliing to our present purpose : but tliere is another which directly coincides with my design on this p occasion ; namely, that no man ever made a figure, or excellctl in eloquence, unless he studied it as an art, and cultivated all the branches of human I knowledge. CHAP. ir. For almost all other arts exist independently of one another, but that of elociuencc, which is the art of speaking with judgment, skill, and ele- gance, hath no determined limits within which it r can be confined. An orator must be eloquent upon every subject tliat admits of discussion ; if lie cannot make it appear that he is capable of this, he should leave the profession of elociuence. At the same time I own, that, both in this coun- try, and even in Greece, where this profession has ever been in the highest reputation, numbers, of the finest genius and greatest talents in speak- ing, have appeared, without being absolute mas- tci's of all the sciences ; but that such eloquence, such command of language as Crassus and Anto- ny possessed, can exist, without the knowledge of every subject that bears any affinity to so dis- tinguished a faculty, is what I positively deny. This has induced me tlie more freely to commit to writing the conversation which they once had L to<^ether upon these subjects : both to refute an ° opinion, 131 opinion, universally prevalent, that Crassus was hot the most learned man of his a^e, and that Antony was entirely illiterate, and also, if by any means it be possible, to preserve, upon re* cord, what I thought a divine discourse on the subject of eloquence, which was delivered by the o-reatest of men, and even to do all I can to rescue from oblivion the glory of their names, which is now beixinnino- to fade from the recol- lection of men. For, if there were any means of being acquainted with their merit from their own writings, perhaps I should iiot think myself obliired to be at so m.uch trouble : but as the one wrote very little, I mean that few things written bv him have come to our hands, and what he did write was when a very young man, and the other left scarcely any thing behind him, I thought it was a duty I owed to the me- mory of those great men, if I could, to render it immortal ; especially as the remembrance of them both still dwells lively in my mind. This I attempt with the fairer prospect of success, as I do not write any thing concerning the eloquence of S. Galbaor C. Carbo, where I miglu indulge in a fiction that could no lonsrer be refuted f)v the testimonv of anv livini»\ But wliat I pub- iish is well known to those who have often heard the very persons I mention. Thus, I shnil re- commend two of tlie greatest men, to such as never saw either of them, by the evidence of those who arc now alive, and upon the spot, and who have both seen and remember them, K 2 CHAP. i3a 133 M^ CHAP- III. Nor think, my excellent and affectionate bro- ther, that I propose to imitate you in some ora- torical works which you suspect to be inelegant and uninteresting ; for what style can be more polished or beautiful than yours? but, as you abstained from public speaking from choice, or, as Isocratcs, the father of eloquence, writes of himself, from diffidence, or an ingenuous sense of inability, or, to use your own humorous lan- guage, because one talker was enough, not only in one family, but almost in one state ; yet I do not think that these writings will be ranked by you in that class, which is deservedly ridiculed for the poverty of those authors in all the fine arts, who have lectured upon the subject and study of eloquence. For it appeared to me, that nothing was omitted in the conversation of Cras- sus and Antony, that any man of the greatest parts, the most vigorous application, the deepest learning, and tlie widest experience, could be supposed to have acquired : this you may easily be a judge of, as you have chosen to acquire the science and theory of speaking from your own good sense, but have left the practice to me.— But that I may the sooner finibh the important point I propose to handle in these pages, without any farther preamble, I shall proceed to the dis- cussion of my subject. / To begin then ; the day succeeding the above conversation, at eight in the morning, before Crassus got out of bed, while Sulpicius S'.dpicius was sitting by him, and Antony walk- ilig with Cotta in the portico, the aged Q. Ca- tulus, with his brother, ^ C. Julius, unexpectedly came to see them. When Crassus heard this, he rose in some confusion, and they were all in an amazement, suspecting that the motives of their visit was something more than ordinary. After the usual compliments had passed, Crassus says, I am glad to see yoU; gentlemen ; any thing new ? Nothing at all, answered Catulus, for you know the games are celebrating, but I fancy you will think us very impertinent, or very troublesome. When Csesar came last night from his own coun- try seat, to me at Tusculanum, he told me he had met Sca^vola in his way from you, who told him some things that surprised him ; namely, that you, whom I could never, by any means, engage in a dispute, discussed, at great length, with An- tony, the subject of eloquence, and that you conducted the discussion as in a school, almost in the manner of the Greeks. For this reason, my brother prevailed on me to come hither, though I own myself I was not very averse from hearing you, but was afraid lest we should in- trude upon you in an unseasonable hour. For he told me that Scsevola had said, a good part of the conversation was deferred to this day. If you think this was taking an undue liberty, you must impute y C, Julius,~} The reader is not to imagine that this was the famous dictator, though of the same name and family ; for the dictator was not above ten years of age at the time when this conversation is supposed to pass, K3 134f impute it to Caesar, but if it be deemed a frcc5.^ dom, not inconsistent with friendship, impute ft to us ; for it certainly gives us a great deal of pleasure to wait upon you, if our visit be not un- seasonable. CHAP. IV. IxDEED, replies Crassus, w^hatever was the mo- tive that brought you hither, I am exceedingly pleased to see, at my house, men whom I so much love and esteem ; yet at the same time I speak but the truth, when I declare that I had rather you came here from any other motive than that which brought 3'ou. I can say from my heart, that I never was less pleased with myself than I was yesterday. Yet it happened rather through good- nature than any other fault of mine; for while I was indulging the young gentlemen, I forgot that I was, nu'self, an old man doing what I had never done, even while I was voun<;, that is, dis- puting upon points of science. But one thing happens luckily enough, that my part is played, and Antony now appears upon the stage. Then answers Caesar, indeed Crassus, I am so desirous of hearino- vou in a lon<4, continued debate, that rather than be disappointed I should prefer listen- ino- to you in common conversation. I am in- deed willing to try whether my friend Sulpicius, or Cotta, have more influence with you than I, and to prevail with you to extend some part of your oood nature to Catulus and myself But if that is any way disagreeable to you, I will not press 135 press it, nor, while I dread lest you should be im- pertinent, will I run the risk of your thinking me so. Indeed, replied he, Cajsar, of all the words iu'our language, the word '■ impertinent conveys the most pointed signification; for the person whom we call impertinent incurs that epithet froiix being destitute of propriety ; and this word is of great extent in our language ; for the man who neUher knows how to suit himself to the occa- sion, who speaks too much, or affects to display his parts, or has no regard to the character or convenience of the company, or to any other re- spect, or who is either awkward or loquacious, that man is impertinent. This is a fault with which the learned Greeks so abound, that they have not even a term to express it ; so that if you should ask how the Greeks describe a man that is impertinent, vou will find no answer to the en- quiry. But of all the innumerable tribes who are impertinent, I do not know if any are more so than they who, like the Greeks, without any regard to place or persons, dispute, with great eagerness, upon points that are either very abstruse or unmi- ])ortaut. These young gentlemen yesterday en- gaged us, against our inclinations, in this prac- tice, which 1 now condemn. CHAP. V. Oh this Catulus observed: Why, Crassus, even the Greeks, who, in their country, were emment and ^ Impertinent.-] The origmal is ineptus ; literally un^ty in. appropriate. K4 136 and great, as you are, and as all of us desire to be, in this, were far from bei/ig like their country- men, who, in these days," stun our ears. But yet they did not, in the leisure of retirement, at all decliue disquisitions of this kind : and thouo-h they who pay ^ no regard to seasons, to places, to the characters of men, may appear, as they ought, impertinent, in your eyes, yet at the same time doth not this place seem very invitino-? Here we see a real portico, under which we may walk ; here is the palaestra ; here are numberless other places of recreation : all these, in some measure, revive in our minds the academies and schools of the Greeks. Or can this he thouo-ht an unseasonable time, when we have so much leisure; a circumstance that seldom happens, and now occurs very opportunely? Or can we deem discussions of this kind as foreign to our character, who think that these studies are the very * Shin 070' ears.l Before the times of Laelius, philosophy was in no esteem at Home. When the Romans begun to study it, a great many Greeks came to Rome, in order to teach it ; but being generally empty pedants, and of no reputation in their own country, when they put themselves under the pa- tronage of the great men of Rome, they soon fell into con- tempt. These are the men our author speaks of here. ^ No regard to seasons.'] The reader, no doubt, by this time, begins to have some idea of the character of a great man and a fine gentleman at Rome. Cicero, Me may believe, draws his character after life ; but more of that in the remaining part of these notes. It is sufficient for me to take notice with w hat propriety he has marked the character of an impertinent, and how useful the opinion of so great a man as Cicero, in this passage, may be to the conduct of a young gentleman, full of sprightly parts, at his first setting out in life. 137 very soul of life ?" I put, replies Crassus, upon these things a quite different construction ; for, first, I think the pates tra, the seats, the portico, were intended by the Greeks themselves, Catulus, for diversion and amusement, rather than dis- pute ; because academies were instituted many years before philosophers began to prate in them ; and even at this time, w^hcn the academies are all occupied by philosophers, yet their scholars like much better to attend ^ the quoit, than their teachers ; for, at the sound of the quoit, they leave the lecturer, to go to anoint themselves for- the exercise, in the middle of a subject, however important and weighty; thus, by their own con- fession, they preferred the slightest pleasure to the highest utility. As to leisure, I agree with you, but « The soul of life.'] In the Latin it is nullam vitam esse duca* mas ; that is to say, as we suppose that we cannot live com- fortably and pleasantly without the knowledge of eloquence ; for so Crassus, io the remaining part of the chapter, uq- dcrstands the words nulla xos esse eos^ quw vitam insuavem sine his studiis putaretis. After the same manner, Plato, in his de Repub. libj 1. where he relates ths complaints of the old men, who had lost all the pleasures of youth ; then indeed^ said they, we lived happilj/^ but now we do not so much as live. M'hich place of Plato, Cicero has thus imitated in senectute quod voluptatibus carerent^ sine quibus nullam vitam putabnnt, Pearce. ** The quoit,'] Lai. discus, it was probably a large weight, with a handle made of thong, and the young men tried who could throw it farthest. We may observe here, that the aca- demies of the ancients have been all upon one plan, divided in- to different apartments, for the several exercises : they used to anoint themselves with oil, before they went to any bodily «rercise. 138 but the employment of a leisure liour ought not to puzzle, but to unbend the mind. CHAP. VI. I HAVE often heard my father-in-law say, that his father-in-law Ltelius generally went into the country with Scipio, where they recovered, in a surprising degree, their youthful vigour, when they had escaped from town, as from a cage, and flown into the country. I would be very cautious of what I say concerning such great men, but ScJEvola used to tell mo, that they frequently gathered shells and perewinkles at Gaeta and Laurentium, and stooped to every mode of relax- ation, in order to unbend their minds. The case is much the same with birds, which, to provide for their wants, or to propagate their species, build their nests, and after they had in partaccomphsh- ed their labour, in order to alleviate the toil, flut- ter about with freedom and gaiety. In the sanne manner our spirits, tir-jd with the business of the forum and the city, when freed from an.xiety and toil, exult and want to be at large. What I uro'cd therefore in the cause of Curius, against Sct^^vola, (luite accorded with my present sen- timents. Why, says I, Scxvola, if no will is va- lid but what you draw up, we must all come to you with our 'parchments, and yon must be the solescril)e : if so, continued I, when will you do the public business r When the concerns of your friends? When your own ? In short, when will you 13p you give over doing any business ? I proceeded a little farther. The man who is not sometimes fiee from business, seems to me not to enjoy free- dom. I am still, Catulus, of this opinion, and as I am come hither I please myself with the thoughts of enjoying the same freedom from la- bour. As to your third position, that you tliought there can be nothing delightful in hfe without those studies, this, so far from encourag- ing, deters me from engaging in them. For as C. Lucilius, a man of learning and refinement, used to say, that he did not wish his writings to he read either by the most learned or the most illiterate part of mankind, because the one under- stood nothing, the other perhaps too much. For this reason, he said, Ixchh not Persius, but L.E- Lius Y)Eci^ivsformy reader, because we know that the first was a man of the greatest learning in his age and country, and the other a worthy man, and by no means illiterate, but nothing com- pared to Persius. Thus, if I am to dispute upon our profession, I should notchuse to have clowns, but far less to have you for my hearers. For I should chuse to have mv discourse not under- jstood, ratlier than censured. CHAP, VII. C^SAR answers: For my part, Catulus, I think I have aheady succeeded in the object of our coming hither, for this#very refusal to enter upon any argument has, to my wish, formed of it- self 140 s^lf a very pleasant sort of argument. But Avhy should we hinder Antony, whose turn we hear is to lecture upon eloquence in general and Cotta, with Sulpicius, have been long wishing him to begin. But, answered Crassus, I will neither sufr fer Antony to open his mouth, nor will I utter a syllable, till you have first promised What, re- plies Catulus ? That you will pass the day here, answers the other. This caused Catulus, who had promised otherwise to his brother, to hesitate. I will answer for us both, said Julius, and upon these terms too, that though you do not operi your mouth, you shall, I assure you, detain me. My hesitation, interrupts Catulus with a smile, is removed ; because I have ordered nothing at home, and the very person at whose house 1 was to have been, has, without consulting me, very readily promised. Upon this they all turned their eyes towards Antony : ^Attend, attend, said he, to one who occupies the professor's chair, and who is deeply read in Greek learning. And I speak with the more assurance, because Catulus is my hearer ; to whom not only we, who speak in Latin, but those who use the Greek tongue, yield, in purity and elegance of diction. Unless how- ever you bring to this profession, whether it be called by the name of art, or study, confidence inyourselves, it will prove unavailing. I will teach you, my good scholars, what I myself never learn- ed ; I mean, I will give my sentiments upon all kinds « AtUnrlj attend^ said he,'] With what prodigious hiinajour ami vivacity does Antony faerc rally the formality of the Greek professors). 141 kinds of eloquence. When they had done laugh- ing at this preamble, Eloquence, continued he, to me appears, though a noble attainment, little to deserve the appellation of an art. For nothing comes within that denomination, but things that are known. But the whole business of an orator consists not in knowledge, but opinion. For when we are in a court we speak to those who are destitute of clear knowledge, and we speak of ' things respecting which wc ourselves are equally uncertain. They therefore have different senti- ments, and form different judgments upon the same things ; and we often ^ speak upon oppo- site sides ; not only as when I sometimes speak against ^ Speak upon opposite sides,'} I am pleased with having an opportunity here of quoting one of the finest and honestest sentiments of antiquity ; I mean the glorious testimony that Quintilian hath left behind him against this practice too often recommended by aur author. '' I will suppose, says he, what is repugnant to nature, that ** a man with the worst heart may have the finest tongue, yet '' will I deny that such a man is an orator ; for every fellow *' who has a strong arm cannot be called a man of caurage, *' because courage cannot exist without virtue. AimI has '' not the man who pleads for the interest of another occasion *' for an honesty that no passion can corrupt, no interest can *• bias, and no fear impair ; but shall we bestow the sacred •^ name of an orator upon a traitor, a runagate, and shuffler ?" Concedamus sane (quod minime natura pntiatur) repnrtum fsse aliquem malum virum summe disertum : nihilo tanien minus oratorem cum negaho. Nam ncc omnibus qui fuerint manv prompt iy viri fortis nomen concesserim, quia sine virlute iuteUigi non potest fortitudo. Au ei qui ad defendendas causas advocatur, non est opusjide, quam nee cupidilas corrumpat, nee gratia aver- tat, nee metusfrangat ; sed proditorem, transfugam, pravarka" tonm donabimus Qratoris iUo sccro nomine 1 142 against Crassus, or Crassus against me, when one of us must be in the wrong ; but upon a different occasion we shall express ourselves diametrically contrary to what we said before upon the same subject, whereas truth is uniform and unchange- able. I, therefore, proceed to treat of a thing that is supported by falsehood, and which very seldom can be reduced to a demonstration ; which always courts the opinions, sometimes the prejudices ofmakind : if, after such a declaration, you think you do not pay too dear for your at- tention, I proceed. CHAP. VIII. For my part, adds Catulus, I am very desirous to hear you, and the more so because you seem to set out without any ostentation ; for you have commenced with a proposition not more true than dignified. Then, proceeds Antony, while I de- clare, with respect to the nature of oratory, that it is not in strict propriety to be denominated an art, I maintain, at the same time, that artificial precepts may be laid down for moving the pas- sions and winning the affections of mankind. If any body pleases to call this knowledge an art, I have no objection ; for as many plead causes in the forum without a regular plan, and some with greater address from practice and expe- rience, there is no doubt, that if a man shall ob- serve the reason why some succeed better than others in speaking, he may find tliis out. Who- ever, therefore, pursues the same method in every species 143 species of eloquence, will find it, if not in reality an art, yet to be somewhat that has the resem- blance of it. And I wish that it were in my power to delineate in what manner these may be (ITstinguished as vividly, as my fancy now per- ceives them, in the forum and in pleadings. But I will do my best : What I am now to advance I am fully convinced of, that no character is more eminent than a complete orator, though eloquence of itself be not an art. For not to mention that the exercise of it obtains in every well-regulated state the highest influence, so great of itself is the plea- sure derived from the practice of this profession, that nothino; can be conceived more an-reeable to the ears and understandings of mankind. What music is more charming than the delivery of a re- gular discourse ? What numbers more harmoni- ous than the cadence of a well-turned period? What actor can, by imitating nature, give greater plea- sure than an orator does by defending truth ? What shews more acuteness than pointed and well-stored sentiments ? What is more admirable than a subject illumined by splendour of lan- guage ? What more gratifyiog than a s|)C'cch crowded with materials of every kind ? For there is no subject but comes under the province of an orator, 1 mean those upon which he ought to speak with elegance and propriety. CHAP. IX. As to his province, he is in the highest affairs to give his opinion with dignity; and hkevvise to him 144 him belongs the duty of rousing a desponding, or checking an outrageous people. By the same profession, the frauds of mankind are detected and punished, and their innocence defended. Who exhorts to virtue with greater ardour ? Who is more vehement in reclaiming from vice ? Who more severe in lashing tlie profligate ? Who more elegant in recommending the meritorious ? Who is more capable of checking the passionate ? Who more successful in soothing the sorrowful ? But as to history, the recorder of past ages, the evidence of truth, the soul of memory, the direct- tress of life, the herald of antiquity, by what means can it live to immortality, but by the voice of an orator ? For if there beany other method which teaches the arrangement of words ; if any one, except an orator, can form a discourse and embellish it with all the varieties of language and sentiments, or if there exist any other means of arguing, of expressing, describing, or arranging, not communicated by this profession, I confess that the oratorical art professes an object which is foreign to itself, or which equally belongs to some other province. But if in reality all this be the peculiar office of eloquence, it is not the less so, because the professors of other arts have been eloquent. Because, as Crassus observed yester- day, an orator can speak extremely well upon other arts, provided he is acquainted with them ; in the same manner, as persons of other profes- sions can converse more elegantly upon their own, if they have studied eloquence; for if a farmer should express himself well upon country affairs ; if 145 if a physician, as many have done, should writ^^ well respecting diseases ; if a painter should write or speak with correctness with regard to painting, we are not to conclude from this that eloquence belongs to any of these arts : but such is the force of human genius, that a great many in all professions, and in all arts, are, M^thout the aid of learning, more or less eloquent. And though you may judge of the nature of every art from that wliich it professes to teach, yet nothing can be more certain than that the exercise of the several arts has no connection with eloquence : an orator cannot even claim the name without it. Thus^ if others are eloquent, tliey receive some assistance from an art which is foreio-n to their own, but never can he who is not armed witli these peculiar powers, borrow eloquence from any other pro- fession. 3 CHAP. X. On this Catulus observes, I ouo;ht not, AntonV, to interrupt your flowing discourse; yet excuse me if I cannot help exclaiming like the man in the Trinnmmus of Plautus, so happily do you seem to express the powers of an orator, so la- vishly do you praise him. Nothing more becomes an eloquent man than to praise eloquence, since, in recommending it, he illustrates the very subject he recommends. But go on, for I agree that to speak elegantly is wholly your province ; and if any mati speaks well in another art, he but borrows L from 146 from this : it is not his own, it is not liis property.* Then, says Crassus, a single night has polished you into a man ; for, as Ceeeilius says, yesterday, in de- scribing theclKuacter of an orator, you described only a journey-man, a porter, or a clown, equally devoid of refinement and learning. Indeed, re- plies Antony, yesterday I took in my head, that if I could but confute you, I mi^ht be able to en- tice your scholars from you ; but now that Ca- tulus and Caesar are present, I do not think that my business is so much to contend with you, as to speak my own sentiments upon this subject. As the person, therefore, whom we speak of is to be placed in the forum, ^.ud under the eye of his fellow citizens, we arc now to enquire what busi- tiess we are to allot to him, and what are the du- ties we require him to fulfil. For Crassus yester- day, before you, Catulus, and Csesar came, briefly laid down the same positions, in regard to the heads into which a subject should be divided, as the Greeks generally do ; but indeed he expressed not his own sentiments, but their doctrines ; jhat there are two questions in which eloquence is concerned, the one indefinite, the other deter- mined. He seemed to me to define the indefi- nite as being any general question ; such as, whether Ls eloquence dcMirahle ? Are honours to be sought after ? But the determined question is where the subject respects particular persons ; alleged facts, such as are examined in the forum, in the causes and dissentions of private citizens. To me, those appear to consist either in pleading at the bar, or debating in an assembly. For as to the 147 • the third species, which was mentioned by Cras- sus, and wliich, as 1 liave heard, is added by Aris- totle, who tiirew the greatest ligljt upon this sub- ject, ^though useful, yet it is hardly necessary. What ! interrupts Crassus, do you mean pane- gyric ? For I think that this is the third species whicli has been added. CHAP. XI. 1 ou are in the riglit, said Antony, and I am sen. sible it is a species that gave great pleasure both tome and every body present, when you declaimed m praise of ^ your mother Popilia, who, I think, was tlie first lady tliat received this honour in our state ; but all that wc deliver are not capable of being reduced to the rules of art ; for you can embellish panegyric by t])e very principles from which all the rules of eloquence are borrowed ; nor can .Though vscfuL'\ The Lafin has it, cHam si opus sit, ticcro m other p.issages fakes opus esse in this sense. V.M. Ep. ad Fam. 1. l. Ep. i. I^gem curiatam comuli Orus tisij neccsse nun esse ; and Ep. ad AU. L. 4. Ep. 6. Si loquor dc fcpvblica quod oportet, insauus ; si quod opus est, scrvus exist i. mor. ''Tour mother Popilia.'] If Popilia was the first of the Roman ladies Avho was publicly praised, Plutarch, in the life of Camillus, was mistaken, who is said, long before Popilia, to have made a funeral oration in praise of the Roman matrons, because they had brought their ornaments to perform a tow to Apollo ; unless perhaps for so long a time none were cele- brated after that decree of the senate ; which is believed by none. Rhodiginus is of the same opinion with Plutarch. L 2 liiiir 14S can you ever be at a loss for those niaxims/ wbici), tliough nobody teaches them, every body knows ; I mean the qualities in a man deserving of praise. They are comprehended in those prm- ciples v'hich Crassus premised in that oration which, when he was censor, he pronounced against his colleague ; that he could patkuthj evdure to be excelkd in those circumstauces which arc the „lft of jortune; hut in those attainments that %peHd upon a man himself he could not endure a superior. The orator then who declaims m praise of another is to enumerate all the circum- stances that are the gift of fortune ; such as birth, money, relations, friends, interest, health, •beauty, stren-ih, wit, and other properties, which are either personal or accidental. If the person commended possessed such endowments as these, you are to shew that he made the right use of them ; if he did nut, that he bore the want like a man of wisdom ; if he lost them, that he lost them without the loss of self-possession. You are next to specify all the wise, the generous, the brave, the just, the great, the pious actions which he ever did, together with every instance in which he displayed a grateful or obliging tem- per. Any man w ho wants to praise another will easily perceive these, and such like circumstances. He who has occasion to censure, will notice the qualities that are opposite to these. Why, there- fore, said Catulus, should you hesitate to admit this third species, because it is founded in the na- ture of things ? If it be more plain, sure it Ought not, for that reason, to l)e excluded. Because, re- ' piles 149 plies the other, I am unwilling that every trifling matter which falls to the province of an orator to discuss, should be circumscribed by specitic and peculiar rules. For we must sometimes state matters of praise or blame in evidence, and that too with the greatest precision ; as I was obliged to do against ' Sextus Titius, a seditious, turbu- lent citizen. In giving this evidence ^ I laid open the whole conduct of my consulate, by which, for the interests of my country, I opposed him when he was tribune of the people ; and I exposed all that I thought he did to the prejudice of the state ; long was I detained, much did I hear, much did I answer. Arc you then of opinion, when you are laying down rules of elocjuence, that such precepts should be prescribed as relate to the manner of giving evidence ? No sure, «ays Catulus, that can never be necessary. CHAP. XII. JjUT if, as it often haj)pens, the instructions of men in high authority are to be explained in the senate, ^Sextua Titius^ a seditious^ tuibutcnt citizen.] It is an unhap- py circumstance for the memory of iiicu, when they happen in their iifj time to be disagreeable to mcti of great parts, who are file only historians to record their actions. In such a case we cannot expect that they will be transmitted to posterity in those lights that are most ravourablcto their characters ; this Se\tus Titius was a very great friend to the Agrarian law, and used somefimes to be impertinent to the senate on that head. ^ J laid open the iv/nf/c conduct of tfii/ consulate. J Tnis is a kind of apology for Cicero's own conduct, who never fails to bring into his orations the mention of his own political cha- racter^ L 3 I 150 senate, either from a general, or to a general, or to a prince, or to a people from tlie senate, be- cause we must use a more correct style in speak- ing on occasions of this kind, is it for this reason to be regarded as a species of pleading, or to be furnished with peculiar precepts ? No, by no means, repHcs Catulus ; for a good speaker can never be at a loss in circumstances like these, though his takMits may have been employed in causes of a different nature. At the same time, the subjects that require eloquent discussion, I mean those things which I allotted ro the pro- vince of an orator, when a little before I was praising elocjucnce, are neither classed under a distinct division, nor have they any system of pre- cepts peculiar to themselves ; yet they are to be discussed with all the ekxjuence which their re- spective merits require ; such as reprimanding, advising*, comfurtinu' : in which nothino- occurs that docs not demand the highest powers of oratory ; but the method of succeedin<>: here is not to be acquired by artificial precepts. I am, says Catulus, directly of your opinion. Then give me leave to ask you, says Anton\% what kind of style, and what talents are required in a historian? To write, replies Catulus, in the man- ner of the Greeks, would re([uire the highest ; but to write as a Roman, there is no need to be elo(juent ; all that is required is not to relate falsehood. Softly, says Antony, not so bad as that neither; the Greeks themselves at first wrote in the same manner with our Cato, Pictor, and Piso. For history then was nothing but an annual 151 annual register of important events, exhibited to the public. The high priest wrote down all the transactions of each year, from the foundation of the Roman state to the time of the high pfiest Publius Mucius ; this he fairly en2:rossed, and set up the record at his own house, that the people might consult it for their information ; and these at the time were called the gix'at an- vals, Many imitated this mode of writing, who, without any embellishments, left behind them the naked recital of times, of men, places and actions. Thus our Cato, and Pictor, and Piso, were just sucli writers as Phcrecydes, Hellanicus, Acusilas, w^ith numerous others amono:st the Greeks, who were nnacquainted with the arts of embellishment, which but lately have been adopt- ed in this country, and who, provided what they wrote was intelligible, thought brevity the prin- cipal ornament of historical compositions. Anti- pater, a man of the first rank, and a friend of Crassus, rose to somewhat higher excellence, and gave a more majestic expression to history ; other writers were not embellishers, but relaters of facts. CHAP. xiir. ♦Vhat you say, answ^ered Catulus, is true ; yet Antipater himself did not adorn his history in distinct and variegated colours ; nor did he re- commend what he wrote by a happy disposition of periods, nor a smooth, equable style. But as he was neither learned, nor had any great turn for L 4 oratory < 152 153 orator)', he gave it all the finish in his power; yet still, as you say, he was superior to those who Avent hetbre hinu It is no wonder, replies An- tony, if history makes no figure in our language; for none of our countrymen studies eloquence with any otlicr view than to shine at the bar; )jut the most elo(juent among the Greeks, who retired from public pleadings, amongst their other renowned studies, a|)plied themselves prin^ cipally to the writing of history. Tor though we do not find that ' Herodotus, the first elegant Avriter of history, was ever conversant in plead- ings ; yet so great is his eloquence, that, so far as I am a judge of Greek compositions, he gives me great pleasure. After him, in my opinion, Thueydidesis preferable to them all in eloquence of style; who so abounds with important facts, that hp has almost as many fine sentiments as happy turns of language ; at the same time there is such propriety, such conciseness in his style, that vou are at a loss to say, whether the facts are embellished by his diction, or his diction by his sentiments. Yet we do not fiiul, though he filled a public station, that he ever pleaded in their courts ; and we are told, that he composed his works when he was removed from the republic ; and, which was the fate of almost every orcat man at Athens, sentenced to banisliment. Phi- Uistus of Syracuse succeeded him, who living in the ^ IJerodoiu^^ <5'C.J 1 shall make no other remark upon the character that is here given of the (ireck historians, than to observe that they are drawn with so much justice aiul taste, 4s to remain undisputed to this day. the greatest familiarity with Dionysius the tyrant, spent his leisure in writing history ; and, in my opinion, proposed Thucydides as the model of his style. Afterwards Theopompus and Ephorus, two men of great genius, bred in what we may call the noblest laboratory of eloquence, by the persuasion of their master Isocrates, applied to history ; but they never were occupied in plead- ing. CHAP. XIV. At last the celebrated Xenophon, and Calist- henes, the attendant of Alexander, appeared from the school of philosophy ; the first the disciple of Socrates, the other of Aristotle, and both Avere historians; the last almost in a style pecu- liarly oratorical. Xenophon indeed assumed a more flowing diction, and as he has not the rapi- dity of an orator, he may appear perhaps less ve- hement ; but, in my opinion, he is far more de- lightful. Tima^us lived later than these, but, so far as I can judge, he surpassed all his predeces- sors in learning, hi richness of materials, and va- rieties of language, and was by no means unskil- ful in the artifices of composition. This histo- rian had great talents as a speaker, but without any practice in business. When Antony had finished; what do you think, Catulus r says Cae- sar ; who will say now that Antonv does not un- derstand Greek ? How many of their historians has he named ; with what good sense, with w hat /justness has lie characterised them ! Why, replies Catulus, I 154 155 Catiiliis, while I am wondering at that, I can no longer wonder at wliat gave me much greater surprise befoie ; that a man, who is ignorant of this knowledge, should have such a command- ing power of eloquence. Beh'eve me, Catukis, said Antony, that in my leisure hours, when I use to read those, and some other wriiiuL^s, I am not then hunting for improvement in elo(]uence, but for amusement. A\'hat then ? I will plainly confess, that, when I walk in the sun, though I may have a different motive for walking, yet it unavoidably happens that I grow ruddy. In the same manner, when I read those books with at- tention at Miscnum, for I have no leisure at Home, I perceive that my own style receives a glow from their charms. But lest you should think me deeper read than I really am, I assure you, I only understand those Greek writings which the authors wrote with a view to have them generally understood. But if, at any time, drawn in by a specious title-page, professing to treat of known and noted subjects, such as virtue, justice, pleasure, honesty, 1 happen to dip into your philosophical writings, I do not understand a word of them ; so hampered are they with close entangled subtilvies. As to the poets, who speak, as it were, in anotlier kind of language, with these I never meddle. I amuse myself, as I liAve said, w^ith the writers who have trans- mitted to us their own exploits, or their own ora- tions, and wiiose style is such as appears intelli- gible to those who, like me, are not the most learned. But to resume : CHAP. CHAP. XV. Do you then perceive how far history comes within the province of an orator ? I am uncertain whether it ought not, from the flow and variety of diction which is requisite, to be his chief busi- ness ; yet I do not find that this has ever been distinctly treated of in the treatises of rhetori- cians, as being plain and obvious /'^for, is there a man ignorant that the first rule of history is that an historian shall not dare to advance a falsehood ; the next, that there is no truth but xvhat he shall dare to tell? That tlie writer should l)e actuated neither l)y favour, or by pre- judice } These, I say, are fundamental principles universally known ; but the superstructure itself consists of facts and language. Matters of facts require a regard to chronology and geography ; and likewise, in great and memorable events, we first expect to hear of the motive ; secondly, of the execution; and, lastly, of the event. The histo- rian is required to give his own opinion, as to the motives : w'ith regard to the execution, he is to declare what was done and said, and in what manner ; and when he comes to treat of the event, all the concurring circumstances, whether pro- ceeding from chance, from wisdom, or from rash- ness, are to be laid open ; and not only the ac- tions, but even the lives, and the personal charac- ter of every man, of celebrity and reputation, ought to be recorded. With respect to the lan- guage, the words ought to be well chosen, the diction « 1.56 diction flowing and easy, free from the asperiticji of judicial, and the pointed abruptness of forensic disputations. You know that there are no rules laid down in the treatises of rhetoric, with regard to these numerous and important points. In the same profound silence are passed over many- other qualities which belong to an orator, such as exhortations, consolations, precepts, admoni- tions ; all which require to he handled with the greatest eloquence, but have no place in those arts that are generally taught. Jkit the two kinds of eloquence assigned to an orator by most authors, and also by Crassus, o|)en to us a vast and bound- less " slippery, and so new as this, be handled without an address and powers of eloquence almost incre- dible ? What shall I say of the pity you raised for Cn. Manlius } What of that in behalf of Quintus Rex.? What of numerous other in- ■'^ 3 stitnces.' I 182 stances ? wherein you did not distinguish your- self by that inimitable quickness universally al- lowed to belong to you, but by those properties which you now delegate to me, and in which you were ever eminent and unrivalled. CHAP. XXIX. For my part, says Catulus, there is one thing that used greatly to surprise me with regard to you iw(), which is, that though you differ from one another in your manner of speaking, yet both of you speak so as if nothing were wanting in you that can be possessed from nature, or ac- quired by learning. Tor this reason, Crassus, you shall neither deprive us of your enchanting nvanner, in explaining everything that may have been overlooked by Antony ; nor, Antony, if you have overlooked any thing, shall we attribute it^ to your want of abilities, but to your desire of hearing it explained by Crassus. Then, says Crassus, do you Antony omit such points as are unnecessary to inform the present company re- specting them ; I mean from what grounds the niateriaTs to be stated in a cause are to be derived. For though you can speak on those in a new and striking light, yet in their own nature they are easy, and the rules laid down with regard to them are common ; but display to us those qua- lities that you so often exert, and with power* always divine. With all my heart, replied Anto- ny, and to induce you the more easily to comply with 183 with my requests, I will refuse none of yours. My whole eloquence, and that character which Crassus just now so highly extolled, consists of three rules, as I have already observed ; the first, with regard to conciliating, the second to inform- ing, and the last to moving the judges. The first requires gentleness, the second pointedness,, and the last energy. For it is necessary that the judge, while we have a cause pendiug, should either be disposed by his own bias, or urged by the strength of our reasoning, or by the emo- tions of compassion, to favour us. But since that part which comprehends the representation and defence of the facts themselves seems to contain, as you may call it, the learning of this kind, let us first say a few words upon that head. For the observations I have made from practice, and imprinted upon my memory, are but few. CHAP. XXX. And here, L. Crassus, I readily agree with your wise advice, that we should omit all the pleadings upon those special causes which masters use to prescribe to their scholars. Let us however dis- close those sources from which all argumentation is drawn, and adapted to every speech and every cause. For as when we have occasion to write a word we are not at a loss to find out how many letters that word is composed of; so when we plead in a cause, we have no occasion to rumi- nate upon the distinct arguments that are to sup- N 4 port 181 port it; for certain common-place ideas im- mediately suggest themselves in the same manner as letters do in spelling a word. But I ^ ' these obvious maxims are useful only to an orator who knows business either by experience, which is the consequence of age, or from hearing and reflecting, which by means of study and ap- plication supplies the place of experience. For bring me the most learned man alive ; to learning let him join a strong and a penetrating head ; and to that, a readiness of expression ; yet, if he is a stranger to the practice of the state, the prece- dents, the maxims, the manners and inclinations of his countrymen, those common-place topics that furnish arguments will very little avail him. I have need of a genius that, like a piece of ground, ploughed, fallowed, and harrowed, to make the crop the better and larger, has received a similar cultivation: and the cultivation of ge- nius consists in practice, hearing, reading, and ^ writing. And in the first ])lace, let an orator dis- 1 5 cern the nature of the cause, which is always self- evident; let him enquire if there are any facts, of what quality they arc, and under what denomi- nation they come? When he is quite master of this, his own good sense, without the guidance of these teachers, will suggest immediately where the stress of the cause lies ; I mean, the point which if cleared up must end the dispute; and then, what is the point to be decided, which those teachers instruct us we are to find out in this manner? Opimius has slain Gracchus. Where does the stress of this cause he ? Why, ill 185 in that he did it to serve his country, as he cal- led the people to arms by an order of the senate ; without this there is no ground of dispute. But Decius will tell you, that even that was unjusti- fiable if it was a proceeding repugnant to the laws of his country. Why then the dispute will tura upon this ; whether the overt-act could be de- fended, when committed by virtue of a decree from the senate, in order to save the state? These consequences are all plain and obvious to com- mon sense ; but we may still be at a loss for the arguments that ought to be advanced both by the accuser, and the person accused, upon that point which is decisive in the aflfair. CHAP. xxxr. And here we may perceive the capital mistake of those teachers to whom we send our children, not that it immediately relates to speaking, but that you may see the true character of those'men who think themselves learned. For in dividing the methods of speaking they lay down two kinds of causes; the one, in which, according to them, the proposition is general, without rela- tion to particular persons and times; the other IS confined to certain persons and times; and this, without knowing that all disputes depend on the strength and nature of your reasoning upon the general proposition. In the cause I have just now mentioned, the identity of the per- sons of Opimius and Decius are quite out of the l^ 1S6 the question with an orator. For the proposition is indefinite, and of a general nature; whether a man is to he punished for kihing a citizen by an order of the senate for the preservation of the state, though the overt-act is «ot warranted by the laws ? In short, there is no cause in which the point to be tried involves the persons of those concerned alone ; and not an universal proposi- t direct us to be so cautious, as to afford no advantage by this to the adversary. Next, it is owing to applica- tion, that our mind can dart into those fields which I shall soon open, so as to enter thorough- ly into the merits of the cause, and thus to have in readiness that care and attention which are necessary to its support. But to apply memory, utterance, and strength, as it were, to illuminate all these matters, is the great object of diligence. There is indeed some small distance, in which we may place art, between memory and application. Art only points out the ground to be investigated, the place where the end vou are in quest of lies: all 193 all the rest consists in care, attention, reflection, vi- gilance, assiduity, and industry. All these may be comprised in the term which I have often mention- ed, and that is application : it is in this single virtue that all the other virtues consist ; for we perceive that philosophers are at no loss for copiousness of expression; yet I think (but you, Catulus, will speak better to that) they lay down no rules for speaking, though at the same time they decline not, for this reason, to speak with fulness and co* piousness upon every subject that is proposed. CHAP, xxxvr. It is true, replies Catulus, as you, Antony, ob- serve, philosophers commonly lay down no rules for speaking, and yet they are never at a loss to speak upon every subject that is proposed : but Aristotle, who is my favourite, has laid down cer- tain common topics, in which may be found the matter which belongs to every question, not only in oratorical, but philosophical disquisi- tions. Your discourse for some time, Antony, did not at all disagree with that philosopher; whether from sympathy you have trod in the steps of that divine genius, or whether, as is most probable, your observation is the result of what you have read and learned in his writings; for I perceive that you have applied more to the Greek learning than we imagine. I will tell you the truth, Catulus, answered the other: I always thought that an orator would be more agreeable, O and 194 195 and more plausible to our countrymen, who, in speaking, displays the fewest vestiges of art and of Greek learning. At the same time I thought it more became an irrational than a luiman being, to be inattentive to the Greeks, when they un- dertake, profess, and handle such weighty mat- ters, and not only so, but pretend to give man- kind a rule for discerninii: the most obscure sub- jects, for hving morally, and speaking copious- ly; and if one does not hear them j)ublicly, for fear of derogating from his character among his countrymen, he should at least secretly catch up some of their words, and, without seeming to notice, retain what they say. This, Catulus, has been my method, and by this means I have some notion of their pleadings, and those general to- pics which they have discussed. CHAP. XXXVII. IxDEED, says Catulus, you have steered, witlj regard to philosopliy, with great caution, and yet split upon it as i:pf)n a fatal rock which you wished to avoid. This state, however, lias never despised philosophy. For at the time when only a colony from the great nation of Greece flou- rished in this country, Italy was full of Pythago- reans; from whom came Xunia Pouipilius, our Jcino-, who is said to be a Pytjiagorcan ; yet he lived a great many years hefore Pythagoras. For this reason, we are to look upon him as a still greater man, since he possessed the knowledge ^ 3 ' of I <■» ♦ '♦^ of civil polity almost two ages hefore the Greeks perceived that such a knowledge existed. And surely this state never produced men more cele- brated, more dignified, or more learned, than were P. Africanus, C. Laslius, and L. Furius, who were ever attended, and that in public, by the most learned man they could get from Greece. And I have often heard them say, that the Athenians performed a service very agreeable both to them, and to a great many leading men of this city, when they sent in an embassy upon their most important concerns, the three most eminent philosophers of that age, Carneades, Critolaus, and Diogenes : that when these were at Rome, their lectures were daily frequented by themselves and others. After the authority of those great men, I am surprised, Antony, that, like the Zethus of Pacuvius, you should almost declare war upon philosophy. By no means, re- plied Antony ; I rather resolved to phdosophize a little like Neoptolemus in Ennius, for I do not love to be a iinished philosopher. But my opi- rion is this, and I thought I fully explained it : provided these studies are cultivated with mode- ration, I do not disapprove of tliem : but I think it prejudicial to an orator that a judge should consider him as a philosopher, and thus suspect him of being versed in the arts of sophistry. For this takes away both from his authority as an orator, and his credit as a reasoner. ^ ' 2 CHAP. 396 CHAP. XXXVIII. But, to return from whence we digressed, do not you perceive that of these three very famous phi- losophers, who, you say, came to Rome, Diogenes professed to teach the art of reasoning ; of sepa- rating truth from falsehood; which the Greeks call lopic ? In this art, if it he an art, we have not one rule how to find out the truth ; the whole object of it is how to judge of it. For it hap- pens that in every proposition we lay down, whether it be of the afiirmative or negative kind, if simply laid down, these logicians undertake to judge whether it is true or false ; and whether it is expressed in a complex form, with other things annexed; they pronounce whether it is rightly con- nected, and whether the aggregate of all the rea- sonings is true : at length they so entangle them- selves in their own .quirks and subtilities, that they meet with difficulties which they are not only unable to solve, but even perplex those points which thev had before unravelled. Here, there- fore, that celebrated stoic is of no service to us, insomuch as he lays down no rules how to in- vent what I am to say : nay, he even embar- rasses me, by throwing difficulties in my way, whicb he declares to be indissoluble : and all tbis in a style by no n^eans perspicuous, diffusive, and flowing ; but meagre, barren, stiff and rugged ; so that if he proves any tiling, it must still be al- lowed that his manner is far from being agreea- ^ble to that of an orator. Our object is to en- ;> vn n> t i i> 1 ♦ 197 gaffe the attention of the multitude, to soothe or to rouse their passions, and to gain their assent to what must not be weighed in the golden ba- lance of truth, but in the scales of popular opi- nion Let us therefore take our leave of this whole system, which, with respect to invention, is too mute ; to decision too loquacious. I am of opinion that Critolaus, whom you mention to have come along with Diogenes, could have been of much more service to our profession. For he followed Aristotle, from whose precepts you per- ceive I do not much differ. I have read his book, where he treats of the methods of speaking which were used by his predecessors, and hke- wise those works, where he lays down something of his own upon this head: and, to me, there appears this difference between Aristotle and his brother professors of this art : he, by the same acuteness with which he comprehen. M)) t > [M 1 < :\ p * > 199 tion in tliis manner: *' The senate is either to be obeyed in matters that concern the welfare of the state, or some other authority is to be instituted, or one must follow what bis owa reason suggests: an authoritv forei2:n to that of the senate would be presumptuous ; one's own determination would be arrogant* The authority of the senate wa^ therefore to be followed." If the question lies in the term, as in the case of Carbo, it is stated in this manner: '* If he be a consul v/lio consults the good of his country, what else has Opimius done?" But as to questions that turn upon qualities w^hich come nearest to the case, there are more seats and common-places from wdience proofs may be drawn; We then enquire into arguments drawn from accidental propertied/- general heads, and their subdivisions, similari- ties, and dissimilarities, contrarieties, conse-_ quences, analogies, precedents, and inconsistencies. We trace causes and their effects, and enquire into arguments drawn from the properties that are either oreater, equal, or less. CHAP. XL. As to arguments drawn from accrdental proper- ties, they are thus formed : ^' If the greatest ho- nour be due to piety, then you ought to be af- fected, when you behold the pious sorrow of Q. Metellus.*' From the kind; *' If the magistracy- ought to be subordinate to the people of Rome, why do you accuse X^orbanus, whose tri-* O 4 buneship' I ^.i 200 buneship was always subservient to the phSKWIttt of the state ? As to partial arguments, which are sub-divisions of general heads ; if all who consult the good of our rouiitry ought to lie near to us, a gc neral ought surely to be the dearest, since it is hv fiis counsels, courage, and danger^, that vvc re- tam the safety of our persons, and the dignity of our tnipire." Irom simiLariiy thus; *' If even wild beasts love their young, what aflfection ought we to cherish for our offspring ?'* From dissimilarity thus; '' If barbarians have no thought beyond to day, it should be our wisdom to provide for futurity." And both in similarity and dissimilarity, exam])les are to be brought from tiie actions, the sayings and the accidents of others; and very often you are to state ficti- tious cases. Now as to contrarieties ; '* If Grac- chus acted unnaturally, Opimius acted nobly." Fro.n consequences ; '' If a man were slain, and you his foe taken upon the spot with a bloody sword in your hand ; if no person were seen there besides yourself capable of injuring him, while you were always remarkable for audacity, how can we doubt of your committing the murder ?*' From circumstances that are agreeing, antece- dent, and repugnant, let us borrow the words of Crassus, when a young man. '' Carbo, though you defended 0|)imius, these, notwithstanding, will not esteem you as a good citizen : it is plain that you have dissembled, and that you had something else in view, because in assemblies of the people you often deplored the death of Tibe- rius Gracchus ; because you were an accomplice in / if' ' I 201 in the death of Publius Afrlcanus ; because in your tribuneship you enacted that law ; because you always dissented from patriots." As to arguments drawn from motives, they proceed m this manner : '* If you wish to destroy avarice, you must destroy luxury, which is the parent uf it." As to effects arising from causes ; -Hf we employ the wealth of the treasury for sup[)ortiiig us in war, and adorning us in peace ; let us do every thing then to improve our revenue.*' As to greater, to lesser, and parallel circumstances, we introduce them thus. ''If a good name be better than riches, and if riches be so desirable, how much more is glory to be coveted ? An argument taken from the lesser is this ; ™ " J^f af- ter so short an acquaintance he lamented her death so bitterly, how xvould he have done if he had loved her ? how will he bewail me who am his father T' From equal cases thus ; '' It is the part of the man who plunders his country to corrupt it with its spoils." As to arguments taken from exterior circumstances, these are borrowed, not from the strength of a cause itself, but from ex- traneous objects : as for instance ; *' This pro- position is true, for Q. Lutatius advanced it; the other is false, for it was extorted by the rack.*' This is a necessary consequence ; for I read over the deeds ; as to every thing else in general I have spoke to it before. These I have exemplifi- ed with all the brevity of which they are suscep- tible. CHAP. " This example U borrowed from the Andrla of Terence. M \\ \\ u- '11 fli , -^ia>l ": '-•'"^■' .. 202 CHAP, XLI. For, as if I were to point out a mass of gold that is hurried in several places, it would be enough, if I should describe by signs the places where it lay; for then the person, to whom I thus described it, might find and dig it up with ease and certainty : thus, having possessed my- self of these characteristic arguments, wdiich point out what I was in search of, I obtain the rest by care and invention. But as to the nature of those arguments, that are best adapted to these several kinds of causes, it does not require consummate art to prescribe them, and but a mid- dling degree of genius to judge of them. For my business is not now to explain the art of eloquence, but to lay before men of the greatest learning, certain hints suggested by n)y own practice. When these topics are understood and imprinted upon the mind, and disposed so as to serve upon all occasions, nothing then can escape an orator, not only in liis debates in the forum, but in every species of speaking* But if he should attain to such perfection, as really to appear the very cha- racter which he personates ; and if he can so move the judges, as to lead them with, or with- out their inclination to whatever sentiments he pleases ; believe me, he then wants nothing that can contribute towards forming a finished orator. Let us now proceed to shew, that it is not suffi- cient to invent what you have to say, unless you also know how to make a proper use of what you have ^k •;/ ^4^^ #1^ «■» fif have invented. Variety is necessary in this, both to conceal your art from tlie liearer, and to pre- vent his being cloyed with repetitions. It is pro- per, sometimes, to lay down what you advance, by way of proposition, and to shew the reason why it is so : and sometimes to draw a conclu- sion from the same topics : sometimes to leave it to be formed by the hearer, and to pass to some- thing else : sometimes to make no proposition at all, but to leave the reason of the thing to point out what sliould be proposed. If you rest your argunient upon a parity of reasoning, you are first to prove the parity; you are then to make an application to the point in question : you are generally to conceal the pith of your arguments, to prevent their being numbered, ancF though distinguished in reality, to blend them in words. CHAP. XLIL To you, who are learned, I cursorily notice these things, that I may come to matters of greater con- sequence. For there is nothing, Catulns, of greater importance to an orator, than to pie- possess the hearers in his fiivour, so that the emo- tion he himself feels may proceed from certain mipulse or agitation of mind, rather than from the dictate of sober judgment. For men often judge under the influence of liatred, love, desire, anger, gncf, joy, hope, fear, mistake, or some emotion of the mind, rather than oftruth, precept, law, or equi- ty. With yourapprobation, therefore, I proceed t^ these It 204 these points. Says Catulus, something seems to be still wanting, Antony, which regards the sub- ject you have already explained, and which you ought to clear up before you proceed to what you proposed. What is that ? replies Antony. It relates, answers Catulus, to that order in which you generally arranged your proofs ; for in this particular you always seemed something beyond human. You shall judge, Catulus, replies the other, how much beyond human I am in this re- spect : upon my word, had I not been put in mind, I should not have once thought of it. By this you may judge that all the success* I have in speaking is owing either to practice or chance. Yet that very point, which, as being unacquaint- ed with it, I passed by as one would a man he never knew, is as important in eloquence as any other circumstance. But give me leave to say, that you seem to antici|)ate the time when I am to lay down the method of disposing a subject : for had 1 placed all the power of an orator in proofs, and the evidence that arises from the na* ture of the cause, it would be now proper to speak of the manner in wliich proofs should be arranged ; but as I have as yet spoken only on one of the three points proposed, I must discuss the other two before I speak of the disposition of speech. CHAP. XLIII. Honourable actions, and upright lives, in the pleader and his client, greatly contribute to a successful 1^ t V •s 1 i 205 successful termination of his cause, while a con- trary character in the adverse party tends effectu- ally to their defeat. The same effect is likewise produced by conciliating as much as we can the minds of the judges. A favourable opinion again "^ is gained by dignity of character, by the actions which a person has performed, by his reputation, which are much more easily set forth if they are real than if they are fictitious. But an orator is much aided also by these, softness of voice, countenance, bashfulness, graceful elocution, and an apparent reluctance, if you are obliged to run into invectives. It is of the greatest uti- lity to display marks of ease, generosity, affability, piety, gratitude, moderation, and disinterested- ness; all the qualities of worth, meekness, gentle- ness, complaisance, placability, peaceableness, are extremely prepossessing, both in favour of the speaker and the person for whose interests he pleads ; and they bias the mind against those who do not possess them in proportion as they favour the opposite party. But all this manner J of speaking has the greatest effect in those causes, where it is difficult to inflame the judge with violent emotions. For vehemence of speech is not always proper, but there is often required a style that is gentle, mild, submissive ; which is of the greatest service to the accused party. By this expression I mean not only the accused, but all who have an interest at stake ; for this was the sense in which our forefathers used the term. It has therefore a wonderful effect in a speech to express their manners as just, upright, religious, diffident. L. ' • » 206 diffident, and patient under injuries; and this, either in the beginning, in the narrative, or in the peroration, has such influence, if agreeably and feeUno-ly handled, that it is often of more force than the merits of the cause itself. But by a feeling manner of speaking, the speech becomes, as it were, the picture of the speaker's character. For certain sentiments and expression, joined to a gentle, ea^y action, make us appear men of probity, of worth and virtue. CHAP- XLIV. But very different from this is that method of speaking,\vhich affects the minds of the judges in another manner, and impels them to hate, to love, to spite, to favour, to fear, to hope, to de- sire, to abhorrence, to joy, to sorrow, to pity, to resentment, or leads them to those emotions, if any such exist, which are congenial with these. An orator too is to wish that the judges should bring along with them a disposition of mnul, whicli is most suited to favour the cause he pleads. Tor it is observed, it is much easier to give speed to the man who runs, than activity to him who is drooping. But if this be either impossible, or very difficult, to be effected, then I act like the careful [)hybician, who, before he prescribes a re- medy to hi^s patient, informs himself, not only of the nature of the disease he wants to cure, but of his habit and constitution when he was in health. For when 1 enter upon a doubtful cause, by which '« *> "'^1 41 ^ ~ 207 which it is difficult to move the judges, I employ all my care, attention and reflection, to observe ia the best manner I can their thoughts, their appre- hensions, their expectations and desires and whitlier they may be led with the greatest ease. If they yield, and, as I said before, if their bias naturally favours the impression we make upon them ; I make use of the advantage given and spread my sails before the wind. But if the judge IS unbiassed, and composed, it is a more difficult task, for then every passion is to be work- ed up by the dint of eloquence, without any assis- tance from nature. But eloquence, which an ex- cellent poet lightly terms the mistress of the soul, and queen of the universe, has such a power, as not only to raise the stooping, or to bend the erect, but like a skilful -and brave commander to lead even reluctance and opposition into cap' tivity. ' CHAP. XLV. These are the things which Crassus, a little time ago, so earnestly desired to hear from me when he said, in jest I suppose, that I used to handle them with divine skill ; and commended some other things in the cause of Manius Aqui- lius, and Caius Norbanus, as conducted with great address. Yet, by heavens ! Crassus, when you employed the same qualities in your plead- ing, I used to shudder : so great was the spirit, the force, the passion expressed in your eyes' your features, and your air ; nay, there was meanl ing "•■^"•"•"•Wi II I " ■* " I n il i mi i I 205 ing in the motion of your hands. So powerful was the torrent of weighty, well-chosen words, so pure your sentiments, so just, so new, so des- titute of false unmanly ornaments, that to me you seemed not only to fire the judge, but to be your- self in flames. Nor is it ]>ossible that a hearer should ever be impressed with sorrow, with ha- tred, with detestation, with dread; nor to move him to tears or pity, unless the speaker ap- pears aftected with the passions which he wishes to awaken in the judge. But if an orator affect some passion, and if every thing he advance in his speech is false and counterfeit, then indeed a greater degree of art is necessary. Now, Cras- sus, I do not know how it is with you and other people ; but, for my own part, I know of no cause that could induce me to dissemble before men of the greatest good sense, and my best friends. I never, indeed, attempted to awaken in the judges the feelings of pity, detestation, or hatred, if I did not at the same time feel within my own breast the emotion I wanted to excite in theirs. For it is no easy matter to point the anger of a judge against a person, if you seem to be cool and dispassionate yourself: it is no easy matter to make him hate the man you wish he should hate, unless he first sees you burning with re- sentment : jou never will be able to bring him to pity, without proofs from your words, sentiments, voice, look, and tears, that you feel yourself the compassion which you recommend. For as no substance is so combustible as to kindle without fue ; so no mind is so susceptible of the power of eloquence. < 1^ eloquence, as to catcli 'its blaze, unless the speaker, when lie approaches it, is himself in flames. • CHAP. XLVI. But lest it may be thought surprisinj? and incre- < t orvn ; and it is very difficult for Tuen of wit and quick parts to pay any regard to times or cha- racters ; by restraining themselves when they are disposed to be sarcastic. For this reason some wits put a construction sufficiently humorous upon the following passage of Ennius : it is easier for a wise man to keep a burning ccal within his teeth, than a good saying. Now, ac- cording to them, good sayings are xcitty ones : and, at present, they are commqnly understood in that sense. CHAP. LV. But as Crassus proceeded against Scsvola with- out reflection, he thereby turned the whole cause and disputation into ridicule. Thus when bespoke against Brutus, whom he hated, and whom he thought it a duty to expose, he fought with both weapons. How nuich did he play upon the baths he had then lately sold, and the patrimony he had squandered ? And when Brutus said, that he sxceated without any reason, how quick was his repartee ? Hoxv ean it be otherwise, said he, /or ifoii have just got off a bath ? He had many other such turn's ; but his continued humour was equally agreeable: for when Brutus called up two readers, and gave one of them an oration of Crassus upon the " Narbonese colony to read ; and - Xaihonesc colomi.'] In (lie province of Narbon a Roman colony was seltk^d, the inhabitants being expelled by war ; see Q the ; "V 256 and the other, tliat respecting the Servilian law^, and when he had compared the pohtical contra- dictions their several chapters contained, our friend here'' very Immorously gave the three trea- tises written by his father Brutus, to three different readers. In the first book was this passage, I hap- pened to he at my Prhertine estate. Brutus, said he, your father here is an evidence that he left you an estate at Pricernum. In the second book, land my son Marcus were at my Alban estate. IVhat a wonderful sagacity did this good vian discover, said Crassus ; he knew what a cor- morant his son was, and was afraid that if he did not mention the estates he left him, it should be thought he inherited nothing. In the tJjird 1)ook, which is tlic last lie wrote, Vor I liave lieard Sca^vola say that these are all tlie genuine works of Brutus, we have these wox^h: land my son Marcus happened to tjc sitting together at 7uy Tibcrtinc estate. Where, Brutus, said he, are those estates which your father, in the writings he published, says he left you ? y Ah ! had you vot been of age, he would have written a fourth book, and have told the world that he had washed in the oraflon pro Tonfe'io, When a law was made against that colony, Crassus oj)poscc! it, and run out ia invectives against the senate bt'cause they did not join him. ^ ren; humoromh;.^ J do not know if the reader of taste wdl be very inneh in love wi(h this piece of humour of Cras- 5US. " Ji .' hadvou not !,r,„ cfagcl 'i'^c f.atin has i(, ni,! j„,be. Tfm tej,m habcret. Tde age of puberty among (be Uoman* wasfhc fourfocnth. .5, 'If ♦ < • i\ s '1' i M .^^1 227 in his baths along with his son. Must it not then be confessed that Brutus was as much con- founded by this wit and raillery, as he was by the pathetic expressions he poured forth, when by chance the funeral of the aged Julia past along ? Immortal gods ! what force, what energy was there : how quick, how sudden its im- pulse ? Brutus, cried he, what commission have you to deliver to your father, by this aged ma- tron ? ^ IFhat message do you send to all those persons, whose figures you now perceive are car- vying along ? JVhat to your ancestors 9 jriiat to Lucius Brutus, who delivered Rome from i^e- gal tyranny ? IFhat shall she report that you are doing ? IFhat object, xvhat accomplishment, what virtue are you now pursuing ? Are you improving your estate ? that is not a business for i^ man of quality. But granting it were, yon have 2 What message, Sec.'] Our author seems extremely fond of this figure ; he has beautifully adapted it in his pleading for Ciclius : sec the translation of the orations, vol. 2. p. 134. Our author perhaps borrowed it originally from Demosthenes, and Virgil has used it in some places with great success. See jEncidis lib. 2. Cui Pyrrhus : referes ergo, haecy ct nuncius ihis^ PclidcL- geuitori : illi mea tristla fact a y Degaicrcmqae Ncoptokmum narrare memento. Thou then hefirst, replies the chief , to go IVith these sad tidings to his ghost below ; Be gone — acquaint him with my crimes in Troj/y And tell m\j sire of his degenerate boy. Fin's Tran?. Q 2 •^ 228 have none to improve; you have dissipated it by intemperance. Are you busied in the civil laxv ? that too was your father's; but she uill tell, that you have sold his house, and have 7iot re- servedeven * a spot xohere to erect your father's chair. Shall she say that you are applying to mi- litary affairs ? why you never ^aw a camp. To eloquence ? To that you are a total stranger. Those J acuities of speech, and every talent of voice or tongue you possess, you have prostitut- ed to the base purposes of calumny. Dare you behold the light ? Dare you look upon these statutes ? Dare you face the forum, the city, or the assembly of your countrymen ? Do you not tremble at the sight of that corpse, at the memory of your ancestors, zvhose virtues you are so far from imitating, that you have not reserved even a spot for erecting their images ? CHAR L\L This language, as if inspired, breatlies magnifi- cence and terror; but as to gentle, polished faceti- ousness, you may remember nunierous speci- mens of it in one harangue which was delivered before the people in as great an assembly, and. miportant a trial, as ever existed, yet no speech was evermore happily seasoned with wit andaaiec- able » A spot.'] The original has it ruiis cccsisqae, ^vhich is a tech. nical term in the civil law. Jnrutis ccrsis ea sunt qitce terra von ttventur qvccquc overi %fTuctdi ttctov€ non continintur. Dig. T. de Verb. si^. 2lK / I >J d It 7 7 «»|« ii r I r 1 1 ■ '•'/ ' <• 1» I'i 2€9 fible humour. I mean our friend's late repri- mand against his colleague, when censor. There- fore, Antony, I agree to both your proposi- tions; that gentle wit is often of great service in pleading, and that it is absolutely incommunica- ble by any art. One thing, it is true, I am asto- nished at, that you have so liighly extolled me in this respect, and have not given the preference in this, as well as in other points, to Crassus. Why that I would have done, says Antony, were it not that 1 somewhat envy that gentleman. For though wit and raillery in themselves are not much to be envied, yet for a man, as he does, to engross the merit of being the most elegant and polished of his age, when at the same time he has that of being the gravest and the severest person alive, seems to me quite intolerable. Crassuf5 himself could not forbear to smile at this. But Julius, replies Antony, though you deny that wit is an art; yet, in the opening you made, you seemed to hint at some rules tliat ouoht to be observed with regard to it. For vou said thac some respect ought to be bad to persons, circum- stances, junctures, lest a joke should lose tlj^ effect you designed it should have, which is the particular care of Crassus. But we may leave this rule, since these gentlemen have no occasion for it. Our business is now to enquire in what manner to apply wit, when there is occasion : for instance, against an antagonist, especially if he gives us any advantage to attack his folly : a2:ainst an evidence, whom we may represent as foolish, Q 3 avaricious. / WJftJ ^30 avaricious, sflght, provided the audience is likely to hear us with any degree of satisfaction. Witty answers have a much better effect than attacks, because the wit of a reply discovers more quick- ness of parts ; and, as it is by way of retort it carries along with it more good breeding. I'or it is still to be presumed, if one is not attacked, that he would have been quiet ; as in the ha- rangue I have mentioned, our friend here scarce saitfone witty thing, but by way of answer : yet such was the gravity, such the authority of Domi- tius, that it appeared more easy to avoid his ob- jections by turns of humour, than to invalidate them i)y strength of argument. CHAP, i^vii. llow then, remarks Sulpicius, shall we permit Cajsar, who, (though he has yielded the prize of wit to Crassns, yet has laboured much more in that study) not to explain to us the whole na- ture of wit ; what it is, and from whence deriv- ed ; especially since we all agree that the power and utility of wit and polite conversation arc so very great ? 15ut, answers Caesar, what if I should agree with Antony, that an orator can ne- ver be wkty by rule ? Sulpicius making no reply 'to this ; no more, says Crassus, can he be in- structed by rule in those i>oints which Antony so much enlarged upon. They are attained, as he iHmsclt if if 231 himself said, by observing those properties which have the greatest effect in speaking ; and, could this make a man eloquent, who would be other- wise ? For every man might with ease, or at least by some method or other, make himself master of such observations. But I am of opinion that the force and utility of those precepts lie in this ; not that art can direct us how to invent what we are to sav, but that when we have attained to such properties, by nature, study, or practice, \vq may then be able with judgment to distinguish the good from the bad, after we have learned how to apply them. Therefore, Ciesar, I must beg it as a favour, that you will discuss this sys- tem of humour, and give us your opinion upon it, lest any part of eloquence, since you will have it so, should be omitted in such a company, and in so accurate a conversation as this. Nay, Cras- sus, replies the other, since you insist upon your guests paying their reckoning, I never will be the man, wdio shall give you any pretence for refus- ing your due by withholding mine. Though I have very often been surprised at the impudence of those fellows who act apon the stage while iJoi- ciiis is a spectator. Where is the man who can so much as move, without liis discerning a fault inhim? In like manner, in the hearing of Crassus, I have now begun to speak upon wit ; and though, as the saying is, I am but a boar in com-^ parison of him, I am to teach an orator, who lately, in the hearing of Catulus, said that all other speakers seemed to have fed upon straw. Says Q 4 Crassus, ** Crass..5, Catulus was but jesting, especially as bis own eloquence is such as deserves to be f«l with a.nbros,a. But, Caesar, do you go on, tliat Anto- ny may proceed to finish the rest of his discourse. J here ,s very httle of that to come, says Antony • but as I am now fatigued with the toil a„d jour- ney of disputation, I will rest and refresh myself with the conversation of Cssar, as if I were in some happily-sitnaled inn. CHAP. LVIII. But, says Caesar, you will have no reason to boast of the goodness of my entertainment • for as soon as you have tasted of the least morsel I will turn you out of doors, and send vou forward on your journey ; and not to detain /ou too lonir I will ,n a very few words lay before you my opi- nion of thiskind of speaking. In regard to ri- dicule, we are to consider five things: first what it is? secondly, whence it is '^ thirdly' Avhether it ought to be the orators inlercst to ex' cite ridicule? fourthly, to what degree ? fifthly what are the sorts of ridicule ? As to the first' Avhat ridicule is ? By what means it is raised' wherein it consists, in what manner it bursts out' and that so suddenly too, that, however desirous' we are unable to stifle it, and in what manner It instantaneously affects our sides, our mouths our veins, our countenances, and our eyes.' These ^h 233 These particulars lot ^Democritus explain; for they are neither to my present purpose, and though they were, yet I should not at all be ashamed to say, that I did not know them ; for even they who pretend to account for them know^ nothing of the matter. But to the place, and, as it were, to the province of ridicule, for that comes next in question, belongs mtanness and dcformitif. For the only, at least, the chief, ex- pressions that raise ridicule are such as ' charac- terise and point out with elegance, somewhat that is itself inelegant. But, to come to the third point, it is evidently an orator's interest to raise laughter, bothjjec^u^^^^^ humour into which he puts the audience procures him fa- vour; and the smartness that is often contained m one word is universally admired ; (especially if it comes in reply, and often when it is thrown out in the attack ;) and beciiuse it lessens, con- founds, perplexes, frightens, and confutes the opponent ; and as it shews the orator himself to be a man of politeness, learning, and good breed- ing ; but above all, because it mitigates sorrow and severity ; and allegations of base actions, which cannot be refuted by proofs, are often rendered *" DcwocriV//j.] There is a joke in thi '"e line Where a htllc action enl.vens the imitation. Therefore if - suppose (hat Rosa,., i„ the character of that yoZ'fef ow, .nutated the manner of an old man planting/and 'let -hunrng all at once to the character of a yonng'man, les wen played only the part of an old man in the play. Vie have a„ example very parallel to this in ,he Fro^s of 1 he r.,1 I '"'" '" ""^ '"^"S*"' t" b-r, «hil the other ralhes h.m, ,ud tells him that he never saw the actors npon ~^ \ ^ ■ 238 here I feel old age itself. But in the mean time, this species of ridicule must be handled with great caution. For when one over-does it, he becomes a buffoon, and runs into indecency. But an ora- tor should not be a mimic, but appeal more to the understandings than to the senses of his audi- ence. He likewise keeps up to the character of good breeding and modesty, by shunning all in- decency in action or expression. This is that species of ridicu le which arises from the S7ih- jecf, and constitutes ^ that humour, wherein, the manners tipon the stage carrying the vessels which their parts required them to bring upon the theatre, without feeling himself more than a year older than he was. us syjj -Jsufxtfoff riAtn* *j viacvruj ts^t(T^vrifos ocnsfyoyixt. ' That humour.] As Cicero in this, and other passages, uses several terms, for every one of which we have not a proper word in English ; and as I have translated them as I thought the genius of our language required, I shall give the reader ih^ criticism of a great ancient upon each of the expressions made use of here. It is that of Quintilian, in lib.6\ cap. 3. de Inst. Orat. riuribus aufcm nomhnbus in eadem re ivlgoviimcr : qucB fatne» si diducas^ suani prnpriain quandam vim o^tendeiit. Nam Urbanitas dicitur : qua quidcm sign'ijicari video sermoncm free sc fcrcnteJH in rerbis^ Sf souo^ Sf vsu yroprium quemdam gusfum vrbis, Sf sumplavi ex couversaciune dnctnrum tacitam eriiditionem : dcnique cui contraria sit rusticitaa — f'cnustumesse, quod cum gratia quadam cS vcnere dicatur^ apparet. Sal» ^um in consucfudinc pro ridicuh tantum aecipimus ; natura nnn utique hoc est, quanfruam Sf ridicula oportcat esse salsa. Nam S' Cicero, omnc quodsalsum sit, ait esse Atlicorum : non q uia sunt maxime ad risum cofupusiti : 4* Catullus cum die it. Nulla \ .- H > ■•/ ^ V mnners of mankind are so represented, as that their quaht.es may be known to be real m any nar- ration, or, by shghtly mimicking, their viceLav be exposed to ridicule. ^ CHAP. ^on hocd,cU, nM m corpore eju. esse ridiculuu. Sahun i^itur ^nt, ,uod non ent insulsun., .,/.. ,uoddam si.pU. oraZfoI a.d. dcfondU orationan. Sane ut Ule ,n Lpl^Zil J,,- •• • ,. .'"*> ^""a ■■ w^numo,s. Qmd convemt cum illo Horatiano, Molk atquefacctum Virsilio. Jocum vero a.cipi,nu,, ,uod est contrarium serio. Nam A. Zj-r ''"■':'"^'" ?""«■«'«'-'• genenL,nune, ductZT- <.eo Oemostl^cnem l„,„,,„j„i,,, j^^^„,^ ^.^^^^^ We commonly make use of several words to express lh<. -0 J„ ,,, i,^„„ „^^,^^ ^^__ ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ P-s^ he " s mea;?:;r?"'"^*«"''^'=^"''"- T^-^r -*-'■" meant a polite discourse, which in its words accent and use d scovers a certain delicate taste joined to'a sS <■ :tts7„dr^"'"''^'"'^""''^^^""-'*^«- «^« letters, and so .s opposed to ruslickas. " ma!!nrTt"* 1 ■""".' "''^''^ ^Po^en in a graceful delicate - cd to t ; ? " '" '" "'"''"'■"y "'^'^'""•^« i» 0">r apply, cd to the ndu:u/ous : bat this is notfounded in nature, thoLh ... necessary that whatever is ridiculous should LZ tor Ccero attributes all „vV to the Athenians, not be^ufe they were peculiarly adapted to laughter, ind ^27, *' whcu i ''-' — tw^ "TV 240 CHAP. LX. excited by a play upon a term or its meaning- and as w^ reconimended in the former kind to avoid Hi.nucry, either as to the relation or imitation- whatever borders upon the character of a pun. 3ter. I-or what difference do we find betwLt a Crassus, " when he says, Th-r, is not c„c gra^n of saU ,« .. /,„„, „ ; ^, does not .can, the.e was nothing ..Wo. in'he: "de nor'jH t T"'"'* '""» '""^"' • -" «hich upon kJed on meat, ,f not excessive, affords a pleasing rel sh so " vti to hi 7 ""^""/"""^ "»' "'•^'^^ ".c character of ^«he that ,t s.gn.fi.s a gentcd ami etcgant manner. And 2 ttus , rutus used it, as Cicero she«s in one of his episls! ^^'"" '^ ■"^«^"' "hat is contrary to se. iou,- «>c!l' '"' '° "*"""''' ""^ '" ^''"^'^'^ - -"^tin,e, rf o, and ,s common to all these kinds ; ye, it properly sig- "tt Listen 7 :-\ ••""•"' '^"^^'"' 'Oercfore dII thcuc. 1. said to be I rbanu.-, and not Dicax." 241 Crassus, a Catnlus, and the like, and your ac- quaintance Granius, or my friend Vargula? In- deed I cannot conceive any, for they are both of them professed nits. No man is more garru- lous than Granius; but in my opinion, the cJia- racterhtical difference lies, in not always think- ing ourselves obliged to say good things, when we ca7i say them. A sliort man who was to give evidence, appeared in court; Pem^V ////«, says Pliilip, to give his evidence : But pray, says the delegate, who wanted to be gone, let him be very short. JVhy, you see he is very short, says Philip. «This was humorous ; but L. Au- nfex, who was more of a dwarf than the witness hmiself, sat upon the bench, and the wliole laugh went against the judge, which rendered the joke indecent. Tlierefore, when your wit wounds a person whom you wish it should not, the point of it is no excuse, when it is inde- cent. Appius affects wit, and, indeed, is witty, yet he sometimes falls into indecorum. */ tvill sup with you, said lie, to my friend Sextius, wlio has but one eye,yb/- I see there is one ^wanting ; this was indecent, both by being insolent, and applicable E ThU jvas Aumorous.-] It is but just (hat we give the reader the wit of the original, lest he find none in the translation. Pusillui, testis procemt. Licet, inquit rogare, Philippus 'i Turn qu / ■will sup.-} Orig. Cxnabo apud te, vni enim Locum esse m- dco. Lata Manus ij- CV«a. R I) I 242 applicable to every man who wants an eye , and lost a great deal of its effect by appearing preme- ditated; but how pretty was the instant retort of Sextius. But you must have clean hands, said he, before you sit down. It is therefore a regard to time, moderation in the indulgence of wit, the being temperate and sparing in saying good things, that distinguishes an orator^ from a buf- foon ; because, when we say a good thing, it is not merely for the sake of the joke, but to do some service to our cause ; whereas they spend \vhole days upon tliis, and have no cause to serve at all. For what did Vargula gain when A. Sem- pronius, while a candidate, and his brother Mar- cus embraced him ? 'Boy, said he, drive axvay the flies. All he sought was a laugh, which iu my mind is the poorest wit. The time therefore of saying good things must be directed by good sense and o'ood vmnners : I wish these could he reduced into an art, but nature M'ill always pre-? dominate. CHAP. LXL Let us now explain in a few words those kinds that are most effectual in raising a laugh. The first division of thcni is, That all witty say- . A, ings * Boy^ drive away the flies.'] Orig. puer, abige muscas ; in Latin jnusca is figuratiyely used to signify an impertinent, trou- blesome fellow. \ £43 ings have their point sometimes in the subject, sometimes in the words ; but the greatest plea- sure is when the ridicule arises from the agree^ ment betwixt the thing and the xcords. But beware, that when I touch upon a topic proper for ridicule, it is generally proper for very noble sentiments. All the difference is, that dignity must be strictly preserved, where the subject is laudable; and ridicule takes place in little, mean, and what we may suppose to border upon vice. Thus in the same words I can praise a servant if he be honest, and play upon him if lie is a rogue. What Nero long ago said of a pil- fering slave was humorous enough : ^That he was the only servant to whom" nothing in his house was cither sealed up or concealed. Now the same thing, in so many words, might have been said of a good servant. But they all arise from the same subjects. For how noble, how fine, was what the mother of Carvilius said to him, when lie was ashamed to appear in public on account of his lameness, occasioned by a wound which he received by fiirhtino- for his country : !Vhy do not you, my son, appear abroad, ^ That he nas the only servant,'] Orifij. solum me, cui domi nihil sit nee obsignatum, ticc occlusum. The Jlomans in their houses had a way of scaling things up, especially bottles and casks. ^JFhy donofymi^ my son,] Cicero appears so extremely fond of joking, that he has in many passages robbed the Greeks Qf ihclr wit to give it to his own country. Plutarch, who wrote 112 lan^ if I ^-. 244 abroad, since every step you make puts you in mind of your bravery ? This was of the noble, and of the serious kind. But what did Ghuicia say to Calvinus, who was lame ? Jl^here is that old fel/orv''' lame ? and in viind he is the same, Tills is ridiculous : yet both these jokes arc drawn from an observation of the same impcrt fection. ""He is more knavish than Ncevius, was a severe saying of Scipio. But to one who has a bad smell about him, what Philip said was humorous: ""IperceivCy sir, I am caught, and that long after Cicero, and who never would have ventured to have replaced these savings to the Greeks, had he not been warranted by unquestionable authorities, has restored several of these to their true owners, in hit) Apothegms of the Spartan Dames he tells us a story somewhat of this nature ; and anotlicr be- twixt Alexander and his father, almost to the same purpose -with this. However, it must be owned that the manner in which Cicero introduces this saying makes it one of the pret« ticst in all antiquity. "* This wit, which is only a cold pun, turns upon the ambi- guity of the verb claudko, which was applied to express both a lame and a depraved man. Calviuus it seems was as lame in mind as he was in body. E- , - » He is mure knavi6h than Kavius,'] Orig. Quid hoc NiEviQ IGNATIUS ? ° I perceive sir, ^c."] Ong. Video te a me circumvcniri, Ca2* sar says, that these two jokes of Scipio and Philippus, consist in the alteration of 'a single letter of the same word. In Scipio's, the words N<£viiis and ignavius sound much alike, and the let* ters that compose them are almost the same. But in this joke of Philip's, what word is like circumveniri^ I am quite at a loss to say. It therefore can be no joke, unless wc read with come vulgar editions, and Lambinus and Stephanus, Video me a tc non co:.!4W> 'ri-'Jll^- . r-t --M»"iMJ 6 iia»»^ 'L ml ji t^ Jliii 245 that by a goat : yet both kinds consist in the al- teration of a single letter of the same word.- Equivocal sayings- are esteemed as being of the wittiest kind, but they are not always employed ill jests, they are sometimes applied seriously. When Africanus the elder was fittiniJ: a crown upon his head at an entertainment, and it had se- veral times broke as he was adjusting it; ^No wonder that it docs not fit, says P. Licinius Va- rus, ^or the head is great. This was grand and noble. Another of the same kind iSy'^he is bald enough that this is spoken against a fellow who had a bad smell ; and the meaning is, as your breath has such a stench, as often as you meet me you don*t seem to meet me, but to be contriving somewhat to my prejudice, and to over-reach me. Pearce. I own that I cannot find out (he wit of this saying by admit- ting this learned gentleman's reading. In my opinion it scarce- ly smells of a pun, far less of wit, or a joke. He asks what word is like circumvcniri'm this joke ? Cajsar has accounted for that ; you need but change one letter, and you have the whole of the wit ; for if instead oi circum^ou read hircum, the smell of which every body knows was proverbial among the Romans, you have, if not a joke, yet somewhat that looks like a pun. It is surprising that so easy an observation as this / should have never been made upon this passage ; and that it should have reduced so many learned men to call in a reading which I do not fiud they pretend is supported by. any manu- script. The wit of this paltry pun, which appears to have baffled all the commentators, consists in the similarity of circum (which was pronounced kirkum) to hircum^ a goat, an animal proverbial for its ill scent. E. P No uo/if/cr.] Orig. Noli inirari si non convenit^ caput enim magnum est, * He is, bald cnough,~\ Orig. Calvus satis est quod dicit parum. R 3 i r v.- 11 :#' V f^^^tn. ^* -f^!^-^ ■U a* But all these rest upon the word. A line too is very often thrown in very facetiously, cither as it really stands, or with a httle variation; or some ' Nobility, 7pobiliti/,li Lat. Nobilioreviy tnobiliorem. ^ Do Itt U8y &c.] Lat. eamus dcambulatum, — Quid opus f%it Dr? ■Quid opusfuit TE ? ^ The preposiUon dc before ambulatum was unnecesf^ary ; but when asked what need there was for it, he parried off the question by its resemblance to te, Na^, there is need of thee, ' You are lewd,] Lat, 5"* tu Sf adversus es impudicus. ((W« *>TS SF -TBK 1 250 some part of a verse, as Statius said to Scaurus, when he was angry ; a joke, Crassus, from which-* :Some people say your hw upon enfranchise. " mciits took Its rise. Silence there ! what a rout you make! It ill becomes you to be so cSnJident xvho have neither father nor mother. For shame, no more of that pride. A saying of this ' kind, Antony, was likewise of great service to your cause, witli regard to one CkHus, \v]jo had a .very handsome son, wlio declared tliat lie had been forced to pay a sum of money as lie was going off. Wo you think the old fellow is trick- ed of thirty pieces ? said you. Proverbs are ranked under this head ; asScipio, when one whose name Avas Ass, said, in a boasting manner, that he hdi served as a soldier all over our provinces. Tou talk like an as.i, said he. 'Therefore, those kinds too, because when translated into other words they lose their wit, arc reckoned not amon own. century, was consul, \yhen the cryer ordered him 'dkc lake your sentiments respect- iiig L. Alanlius. Scipio answered, /declare that I thiyk.him a good man and a worthy citi- .:c/«t .rltwascomiearenough of L. Porcius Na- sica to Catq the censor, when the latter asked him, "Have you upon honour a wife. He an- swered, / have not a wife upon honour. These are either (,nite insipid, or they have some point when not exjiected ; for, as I have before ob- , served, we naturally take pleasure in thino-s wlucli surprise like these, and this makes us laugh, when wc are, as it were, baulked in our f.xpcctation. CHAP. LXV. That species which changes from literal to al- legorical, or answers according as you place one word, or invert several, is, altogether, of the ver- bal ^ Declare your sentiments.'] Lat. Die. de L. Menliu. ' Have you upon honour.] Et tui animi scntentia. \t *.> i 'II ■& 's -.1 l\- n i HjjH ui i H| i w i mw -"TB'^ »-■*. ^■• * ^ ", ^ » o *» I ^j2 t)al kliul. An example oftliHl wliicli shifts from the literal to the allegorical, is what M. Servi- lius formerly said to lliisca, when he passed the qualification act: 'fell me, M. Finarius, said he, if I should oppo.se you xvill you rail at me as you have done at others ? According as thou soicest, replies the other, so shall thou reap. An exam- ple of the transposition of words, was when the Corinthians offered to erect a statue to the elder Scipio, in the same place with those of their other generals; he said, that he did not like troopers. As to the inversion of words ; when Crassus was pleading- for Aculeo, before M- Per- pcrna, L. Ileh ius I.amia, who you know has a verv deformed figure, was counsel against Aculeo for^Gratidianusf and when he had made several impertinent interruptions, Let us //e^r, said Cras^ sus, the charming youth. When this raised a laugh ; / cannot, said Lamia, mend my fgare, but I can my understanding. Now let us heari replies Crassus^ the man of eloquence : and here Avasa greater laugh than before. Such hits are extremely agreeable, both in serious and facetious .sentiments/ For I have observed long ago, that though the subjects of jest and earnest were dif- ferent, yet that the manner of treating both was the same. One of the principal ornaments of a discourse is the antithesis, where words are m contrast with one another: this kind is very of- ten humorous ; as when Servius Galba made his bottle-companions judges, while Lucius Scribo- nius was tribune of the people; Libo asked him, fHien ' 2.53 If hen Galba^ "anil you leave your own dhitng^ room ? Whenever, answered he, you leave ano- ther's bedchamber. The saying of Glaucia to Metellus, was much of the same kind ; you have a country-house at Tiburtinum, but its court h atthe Palatium. CHAP. LXVL I NOM^ think I Iiavc discussed verbal wit; but, as I said before, that which arises from subjects js vastly more copious ; of this kind is the narra- tive of a subject, a matter of great difficulty, for those circumstances thq.t appear most plausi- ble must be expressed, and that too to the life, this is the peculiar excellence of a narrative, as )ikewi$e must all the circumstances th^t have any thing mean in them ; this is proper to tiic ridiculous. The shortest example of this that I can think on, is that which I mentioned before of Crassus to Memmius. To this kind we must refer the narrative of fables, Somewhat of this kind too may be brought from liistory ; as wheu Sextus Titius called himself a Cassandra; I can namcy said Antony, many an ^Aja.v Oileusfor you. It likewise arises from similitude, either by way of comparison or resemblance ; as that Gaul, who was formerly evidence against Piso, and * Jjjax Olieu^.'} JJe, apcorUing to tlic Greek storj, ra?ishe4 Cassandra. n *o4 and said, that he had green a vast deal of money to his Lieutenant Maghis ; and when Scaurus alledged, in opposition, the poverty of Magius : You 'mistake me, Scaurus, said he, / did not tell you that Magius had hoarded that money up, but like a nakedman, gathering nuts, he put it into his belly. As when old Marcus Cicero, the father of the same excellent person who is our friend, said, that our countrymen were like the Syrian slaves, the more Greek they knerc, the greater rogues they mere. Representations of deformity, or any defect in the person, when re- presented by 'any object still more deformed, are likewise extremely ridiculous : as when I said to Helvius, now I xvill shew you what you are like. And what am I like ? replied ho. See there said I, pointing to a Gaul painted upon one ot Marius's Cimbrian shields, all distorted, with his tongue lolling out, and his chops fallen This <^ot the laugh, for nothing ever appeared mo-e tike Mancia. Of the same kind was a joke passed upon Testius Pinarius, who, when he spoke, seemed always to be chewing, that he would make an end of his speech xvhen he had cracked his nut. Hyperbolical sayings, either Avhen they magnify or diminish, excite incredible surprise. As\vhen you, Crassus, said, that 3Iemmius was so lofty in his own eyes, that xvhen he came into the forum he stooped as he passed c An ohjcct still more deformed.^ Wc hayc got a terra for this from the Italians, viz. caracutara. ^55 passed through the Fabian arch. Or when Sci- pio said at Nuniantia, when he was angry with QuintLis ]\fetellus, that the 7ie.vt child his another bore zvould surely be an ass, Tlie meanino- is likewise very shrewd, wlien from a very small circumstance, often by a word, a dark, concealed matter is cleared up. As when P. Cornelius, a man whom the world looked upon as both covet- ous and knavish, but a very brave man, and a good general, returned his thanks to C. Fabrl- cius for making him consul, though he w^as his enemy, especially in a great and important war. Why should you thank me, said the other, /or chusing rather to be pillaged than sold? Like what Africanus said to Asellus, while he was up- braiding him with his unfortunate censorship : No wonder, said he, that it zcas unfortunate, for the man who took off your attainder made up the rolls, and sacrificed the bull ; so strongly did he presume that the perjury of Alemmius had affected the state, by taking off the ignominy of Asellus, CHAP. LXVIL It Hkewise exhibits refined humour when your meaning and your expressions differ; I do not mean that kind where your meaning is quite the reverse of your words, as in the case of Crassus to Lamia, but when a serious vein of humour runs through a whole speech, by meaning one thing, and C3S 257 and saying another. 'As our friend vSca^voIa said to Scptmnuleius of Anagnia, the same who was paid thuiewanl for tlie head of C. Graccluis, when lie begged he would carry him along with him, as his lieutenant, mto Asia. JVhy, you arc mad! said lie, what do you mtan ? I tell thee there in such a 7iumbcr of projligatc citizens in Rome, that, be- lieve mc, if you remain here you rvill make your fortune in a very few years. Fannius in his annals informs us, that Africanus Eniilianus was a wit of this stamp/and styles him by the Greek name of Eiron. But people who know these things better than I do, say, that Socrates, I think, by far excelled all mankind in the wit and good sense of this irony and dissimulation. It is indeed wit of a relined kind, and when seasoned with a serious air, may be ap[)lie(l both in formal harangues, and common conversation. An3, indeed, all that I have said u])on the subject of humour, is not more properly adapted to season pleadings in the forum, than it is common con- versation. For I think it is a very sensible thino- that Cato, from wliom I have borrowed a great many of the exam|)les 1 have laid down here, said, that P. IMummius zvas a man Jilted for all times and characters. In short, the case is, that " there is no occasion in life in which it is unbecom- ing to use wit and good humour. liut to resume what I was upon ; very much of this kind is that Avherc a decent term is used to express a base idea. As when Africanus the censor was re- moving from his tribe a centurion who had not 2 been been present at Paulus\'3 battle, and wlio excused himself, by saying he liad stayed behind to watch the camp; it was asked of Africanus why this man was branded ? / do not admire, said he, your watchful people. It is likewise a cutting kind, when you lay hold of what the other person has just said, and turn it contrary to the sense in which lie meaait it. As when Salinator lost Tarentum, but kept tlie citadel, and made a great many brave sallies from it ; some years after .^ia.\imus recovered the town, and Salinator bid him remember that it was by his assistance that that lie had won it : I may well remember it, said Maximus, for J could never have won it if you had not lost it. These are likewise ^ absurd, but lui that reason often very ridiculous, and fit not only for players, but in some measure for us ; for instance ; he was fool enough to die just as he came to an estate. Again, what is that woman toyou ? — ----your wife you arc like one ano- ther, by heavens / Again, xvhile he trudged about fie riQV^r died. CHAP. LXVIII. Tiiis species is trifling, and, as I said, farcical ; but it sometimes takes place with us ; so that one who is no fool may say a smart thing, as it were * Jbsurd.'] The species mcnlioncd here is prcciidy what %i if f'l it n I . S.; 1258 were in a sim))le manner : as what ^lancia said ^ to you, Antony, when he had heard, that when, yon was censor, you was impeached of undue practices, by 11. Duronius : So! I sec that you may some time or other act for yourself. Such sayings occasion great hiuglitcr, so indeed does every witty thing that is said hy men of ^cnsc, under pretence of not understanding what one does understand.,.. Of this kind was wliat Ponti- dius said, when one asked liim, xchat do you think of a man who is caught in adultery Y f^hy, an- swered he, / think him a careless felloxv. As when Metulkrs would not excuse me in a levy he was making, tliough I pleaded a disorder in my eyes ; ivhat, said he, do you see nothing at all? Yes, sir, said I, lean seeyour country house from the' Esquiline gate. Like what Nasica said, when he came to the house of the poet Ennius, and, when he called for him, was told hy the maid at . the door, that he was gone abroad ; Nasica was sensible tluit the other was at home, but that' lie had given the maid orders to deny him ; and a few days after, when Ennius cainc to his liouse, and asked i'or liiui at the gate, Nasica liimself called out to him that he was not at home : , what, said Ennius, (/(? not I know your oxtm mice ? yirt not thou a very impudent felloxv ? said the other ; when your maid told me that you was not at home 1 believed her ; but you ivill * EsffiiUine gate.']- This was a very fine stroke, for Mctullus hail built a noble country-house, and vras Tiablc to be called to account for the money he had laid out in building it. will not believe that I am not at home, though 1 tell you so myself It is likewise lively when a man is rallied in the very strain in wdiich he ral- lies another. As when Q. Opimius, a consular, who was a young man of an infamous character' attacked Egilius, a man of wit, but one who ap- peifred more cflcminatc than he really was : hoxo do you do my lovely Egilia ? Jl'hcn xvill you come, and, bringing your work, spend an evening with mc ? You know, replies the other, / dare not, for my mother forbids me to associate with xoomen of bad fame. h' CHAP. LXIX. Those sayings too arc witty, whicli contain a concealed vein of irony. Like what was said by a Sicilian, when liis friend M-as complaining that his wife had hanged herself upon a fig-tree. Praij, viy friend, said he, can you get 7ne some slips of that same tree that I may graft them in my garden? Of tlic same kind was wliat Catulus said to a wretched orator, who tlioiighc that he had finished his speech in a very pathetic manner, and after he had sat down asked of Catu- lus, ivhctherhe did not think that he excited pity in the assembly ? Very much, said the other, for I Tcili venture to say that the hardest heart here pitied yc)«. For my part, lam vast- ly taken with a .spiteful, testy humour, whm it .conjes from a good-natured man; for qtlierwise S £ vcQ '■^i r, !■'& *»' ^60 we do not laugh at the ^vit, but iht disposition of the speaker. Therefore 1 think there is a very humorous stroke of this kind in N^cvius, winj do yoii cry, father ? Jt is a wonder that Idonot iuig ? IVhy, I am cast. The patient cool kind of the ridiculous is, as it were, opposqd to this : as Ca- to, after he had received a blow by one w ho was parryiniv a plank, was bid by the fellow to take care ; IVhat, ha^vcyou got any thing else besidey the plank there ? said Cato. A witty way of exposing dulness is agreeable too : as the Sicilian, to whom Scipio, when prxtor, assigned his land- lord, who was a rich man but a great blockhead, for his counsel. Pray, wy lord, said he, gite thi^ counsel to viy antagonist, and then none at all ta vie. We are likewise taken with those instances, where a thing receives an explanation in a smart, concise way, quite contrary to its meaning. As when Scaurus accused Rutilius of bribery, wheu the first was made consul, and the otber lost his election : and in his papers pointed out the let- ters A. F. P. K. which Scaurus explained to be UctedupouthcfaithofW Rutilius ; buttbe other insisted thcysignifycd, anterior \\\fact,pos^ terior in relation. Caius Cannus, a Uomaq knight, who appeared for R ufus, called out that both of them were nnstakcn in the meaning of these four letters. What do they mean then, said Scaurus? Why, said the other, A. Emiliu^' Fault punishes Rutilius. ' . CHAP. ^Lat. actumfideV.Jimiui. mU factum^ post relatum^ ^_ jEmilianitsJaUy picctUur Rutilius, H 2^1 Vr X A A 1 1 . i^iivJx'* ny Ihe joining opposite qualities are likewise witty , he 7va?its nothing but money and virtue. A friendly reprimand thrown out by way of mistake is likewise very pretty. As when Albius played upon Granius, who when he saw his owu accounts appcaJcd to for proof against Scievola, who was acquitted, seemed exceedingly well pleas- ed, without reflecting that the same sentence had virtually condemned his accounts. Of the same nature with this, is the familiar air with which you give advice. As when G ranius advised a wretch- ed pleader, who had grown hoarse by speaking, to drink some cold lioney-wine when he wTnt home. Why, says the other, that will ruin my mice: better, replies he, rain that than your client. It is likewise very pretty when one says anything that just hits the character of another; as when Scaurus got some ill-will to himself by taking possession of the estate of Phrygio Pom- peius, a man of great fortune, without any will of the deceased ; as he appeared counsel for Bestia, who was impeached by C. Memmius, a funeral happened to pass by. See there, says Memmius, a funeral ; ah ! Scaurus, could you but be the heir "^ But none of these kinds is more witty than tliat which strikes you unexpect- edly. We may bring a gieat number of exam- ples of this. I shall only mention that of the elder Appius. Upon a debate in the senate w^ith regard to i^ k ■' i' ^"^ -.^zi >i^<. .'S/j' ^m; K '"'J 'WFS'mP',' .,i.-*^ "' ^-fmr w. '- ^ ' f ■? i ^gy^r^->'^-rf»^;'^';»y*yy^ " ^-^^ ' ^^IM^P ^ to the public lands, and the Thoriaii law, it was like to bear hard upon Lucilius, that some of the members said, his cattle grazed upon the public lands ; i/ou mistake, said Appius, they tvert not tlic cattle of Lucilius, seeming to take Lu- cilius's part, tJtcjj belong to ?io?ic, Jo?' i hey feed xohere they have a mind. I am likewise pleas- ed with the saying of that Scipio, who struck dowii Tib. Gracchus ; when Ai. Flaccus appoint* ed P. Mucins for one of his judges, after a great many reproaches, / except against him, said he, for he is partial : upon this being called to or- der ; ah ! fatliers conscript, said he, I do not ex- cept against hi/n as he is tDijust to me, but to you all. Nothing could be more witty than what was said by our friend Crassus here, when a hear-- say of one Silus, who was an evidence against Piso, had like to have huft him ; perhaps, said lie^ Silus, the person who you heard say so was in a passion; Silus seemed to agree : perhaps like- wise you did not perfectly well understand him ; he signified his assent likewise to this with a .low bow : perhaps too, continues Crassus, you did not hear a single xvord of what you pretend to have heard. This \vas so unexpected, that the evidence was quite confounded with a o-cne- ral laugh. Niuvius is full of this kind of jokes ; this saying is in every body's mouth ; though M philosopher, if you are cold you xvill tremble. With many such sayings. CHAP. o O . 1 i ! 263 CHAP. Lxxr. Yo u likewise very often humorously compliment- ed your adversaiy with those (jualities which he would not allow to you ; as when a fellow of an infamous family said to C. Lni^lius, that his ac- tions were unworthy of his blood : By heavens, replied the other, your actions are very worthy of yours. Witty things .arc often thrown out with sententious gravity ; as M. Cincius, on the day when he passed the law the better to regulate rewards and fees, whenCaius Cento appeared and asked him in an opprobrious manner, what laxv he was passing ? IFhy, replies the other, that every vuui.who uses his neighbours goods should buy them. Very often impossibilities are wished for witli agreat deal of wit, as M. Lepidus, while his fellows were exercising in the field, after he had stretched himself upon the grass ; / wish, said he, this was working. It has likewise a very good etfect, when you give a disagreeable answer with a calm air to a fellow who is ques- tioning ; and, as it were, tcazing you. As Lepi- dus the censor, when he deprived M. Antistius of Pyrgi of his horse, and his friends were making a terrible bawling, and (juestioning hqw he could answer to his father for having his horse taken from him, since he w^as a most excellent, industri- ous member of the colony. Tell him, said he, that I do not believe this. Some other kinds are collected by the Greeks, such as curses, admira- S 4 ^'^^^^ ; -^M :^'r^ .•<■ 'J Hh: '-''■\^\ r.»*«ljf- t|j^^lV^'~< h 264 tions, threats. But I am afraid the kinds I have already mentioned are rather but too many ; for those n^liich consist in the meanins* and the energy of expression, are generally fixed and de- finite : but these, as I have observed before, be- get rather admiration than laughter. But as to tliose which turn upon the subject and the senti- ment, their heads are but few, though the par- ticulars are infinite. For the ridiculous is felt by deceiving our expectations ; in rallying the qua- lities of another; or j)laying humorously upon our own ; by comparisons drawn from meaner objects ; by dissembling ; by throwing out de- signed absurdities, and reprimanding folly. The man, therefore, who desires to be a U'it, must re- ceive from nature a certain cast peculiarly adapt- ed to the kinds I have mentioned ; his man- ners, and even his very look, must be accommo- dated to, and expressive of every kind oi the ri- diculous ; and the more grave and serious one's looks are, the wit has the greater eficct ; as ap- pears, Crassus, from your manner* But, Anto- ny, as you said that you would indulge yourself by reposing in this inn, where wit, such as your own, furnishes all the entertainment, as if you were got into Pomtinum, a disagreeable, unheal- thy place, I am of opinion, that you think you have rested long enougli, and that you should now set out to finish your journey. Replies he, Truly, besides the friendly reception you have given mc, I am now both better instructed in the nature, and more emboldened in the exercise of joking >!► A I ► tit <'■ >■ 41 » ** ► ^65 joking. For I am not afraid of any imputation of levity for my dealing in this way, since you have justified me by the authority of the Fabricii, the Africani, the Maximi, the Catos, and the Le- pidi. But you have already heard what you want- ed to know of me, at least all which required a greater degree of accuracy in expressing and con- ceiving ; for the other points are more easv, and they all ;irise from what has already been laid down. CHAP. LXXII. A* OR when I enter upon a cause, I survey it on all sides with all the attention in my power ; and after I have seen, and comprehended the proofs that are to support my allegations, and the to- pics from which I am to conciliate the favour of the judges, together with those from which I am to touch the passions, then 1 consider with myself the strong and the weak side of the cause ; for there is scarcely any subject that can fall under debate or dispute, that has not both. But to w^hat degree is the question. My method in speaking was usually this ; whatever I find really makes for me, that I embrace, embellish, exag- gerate ; tliere I dwell ; to this I cling as my rest- ing place : but from the weak and defective side I retire, though in such a manner as not to appear to shun it ; but to have disguised it with the or- naments and amplifications which I spread over the 266 tlie strong side. And if the cause turns upori proofs, 1 attach myself principally to the strong- est, whether complicated or single. But if the success depends upon conciliating, or affecting the judges, I then put my chief defence upon that part of it which is most calculated for gain- ing their affections. The whole of this lies here ; if in a speech, my strength lies more in refuting my antagonist than in advancing proofs of my own, I then play upon him with all my weapons : but if it is more easy to prove my ow^n allega- tions than to disprove his, I then endeavour to call the attention oft' from the defence made by my antagonist, and to fix it upon that which is made by myself: I then boldly lay down tw6 things that appear most easy, because the more <]ifticult ones are above my reach. The first is, that where a proof or an argument presses or perplexes me much, I sometimes do not speak one syllable in answer to it ; some may laugh at this, for it is what every man can do ; but re- member I am now speaking of my own abilities, and not of another*s ; and I own, that if a cir- cumstance bears hard upon me, I use to eftect my retreat without seeming to fly and so far from throwing away, without shifting my shield. At the same time, when I speak, I employ a varnish and a pomp of language, and make a retreat as if it were a resistance ; but, wherever I en- trench myself, I do it so as to make it appear that my design is not to avoid my foe, but to occupy a firm position. There I observe what I think ought V ^IK ^ 1 1 ^ik •/ e67 Ought, above all others, to be guarded and provid- ed against by an orator; and with respect to this I always felt great anxiety ; which is, to endeavour not so much to do service to my cause, as to do it no dis-service ; not but that wc ought to endeavour at both, but it is much more disgraceful to an orator to be thought to have hurt his cause by his bljanders, than not to be uble to serve it. CHAP. LXXIII. But what are you whispering to one another, Catulus ? Does what I say meet with the con- tempt it deserves ? By no means, replied the other ; but Ciesar appears inclinable to speak something on this head. With all my heart, re- plies Antony, whether his design is to confute, or to interrogate me. Says Julius, Indeed Antony, I was always one of those who gave you this cha- racter as an orator ; that in your speeches you ap- pear to me the most guarded of all mankind ; and it is your peculiar excellency, that you never said any thing to the prejudice of the cause you defended ; and I remember that in a larije com- panyj when I was talking with Crassus upon this very head, and he had expatiated upon the praise of your eloquence, that I said your clia- r^icteristic excellence was, that you left nothing unsaid that was to be said, and avoided savin **• any thing that ought not to be said- I remem- ber ^6S ber his answer was, that you possessed other qualifications in the highest degree, but none but a dishonest pretender could be capable of speak- ing what was not to the purpose, and thereby in* juring his client. For this reason the avoiding this did not constitute a man eloquent ; but the incurring of it branded him with audacity. Now Antony, if you please, I wish you would point out your reasons for thinking why it is so praise- worthy not to injure a cause, as to class it with the highest accomplishments of an orator. CHAP. LXXIV, Foil my part, Ctusar, replies the other, I will speak my opinion of the matter ; but do you and all this company carry it along with you, that I do not here speak of some divinely accomplished orator, but of my own slender practice and capa* city. As to the answer of Crassus, it was the answer of a noble and elevated mind, who looked upon it as a kind of miracle that any orator should injure a cause, and be prejudicial to his client by pleading. But he supposes others what he is him- self, whose^strength of genius is such, that heima- gines no man, unless purposely, speaks what may make against himself. But what I said Mas not applicable to any eminent or extraordiaary ge- nius, but to men of plain common sense. Thus, among the Greeks, the famous Themistocles the iJ Athenian .% ■ »- 269 Athenian wss said to have been possessed of an amazing sagacity and understanding. When a learned man of the first rank, in letters, as is said, came to him, and professed to teach him the art ot memory, an art that was tiien just begun to be taught ; the other asked him wliat that'art could effect ? It will enable you, replies the professor, to remember every thing. Upon which Themis- tocles told him, that he would be much more obliged to him, if he could teach him how to for- get rather than to remember some things. Do not you perceive how great, and how powerful the genius of this discerning person must have been, and how much understanding he possessed ? Since from his answer we discover, that no- thing which had once entered into his memory could escape it : since he chose rather to forget whathe did not care to remember, than to remem-. ber whatever he had only oncehcaid or seen. But this answer of Themistocles is no reason why we ought not to cultivate our memory, neither is my caution and timidity in causes to' be overlooked, because Crassus possesses the greatest good sense! For neither of them imparted any of their abihtie« to me, they only expressed their own. For in causes there are a great number of circumstances, which in every part of a speech are to be carefully examined, lest you precipitately stumble against any thing. Often a witness may not hurt you pr hurt you but very slightly, provided he is not exasperated. The party begs, the counsel presses \is, first to abuse him, to rail at him, and then examine 270 examine him ; I am not at all moved ; i refuse to obey, to humour, and to gratify their desires; yet this docs no honour to my character. For people without experience kno.v better how to blame any thing you say that is amiss, than to commend you when you discover good sense by holding your tongue. In case that you should here pique a passionate, sagacious, or resolute witness, what mischief may you not do ? For his passion prompts his inclination, his understand- ing furnishes him with means, and his character with interest sufficieut to hurt you. If Crassus does not fall into this blunder, that is not to say but that many do, and that often : at least to me nothing sounds more dishonourable than upon any word, answer, or question, proceeding from an orator, to hear this asked : Has he knocked down the adversary f and then to be said, he haz knocked domi only himself and his client. CHAP. LXXV. Crassus imagines that this never can be the case, except through treachery ; but for my part, I often see men, without ill intention, do some harm in causes. For how I when other people do not, as I said before, with me retreat, or, to «peak in plain terms, fly from what bears very hard upon their cause; but saunter in the ene- my's camp, and dismiss their own guards; do you imagine the injury they do to the cause M'hich » X / / ll i A ) ll » .♦ 971 Which they maintain is but slight, since by these -eans they strengthen the enemy's forcer" hX:t' *^^V^"-t cure.= 'uo^nC they act ffVu'^'f '' '^' '^'''''^^ '" -^ich but add to .1, '"',""! P'^* "*^ '^'' ^''^-'^ter, en Jh 7 ' ''"'' "'^^ t^'^ ^«nrf"ct at length produce. How ! if without guardim tective?"^^' '°" '"^' ^'"^^ -'^ insuUingt! vecfves aga.nst persons who are dear and agree- beich P H 'f 'r' , ""^^ '^ "«* ''^S-st the bench ? How - ,f wj,ile you are exposing your by 1"'I ^°" --'-«-tIy provoke theTur t es with which one or more of your judoes are hargeable, . that but a shght blunde/? S^w ' f, M hde you plead for another, you betray Z'. sonal mteresf in th^ ♦ • i i ^'-•^^^y per- indulo-e in ' °'"'h^»you are stung, vm,rf T''"'"^"t' and thus lose sight of cas ns'r: '' r '' "^ ^^™ ' «" -''' oc sTve nor t1 ?T ^ f"' ''^""^•'''* ^«° ^««' -"^ pas- ^^ ah ! K '"^' '''y '^'^^^'"-^ '■" I'^-nng "My- self abused, but because I take none in enslL ^1-tt.ng the cause I support. As wh n I ^ poached yourself. Sulpic.s, for attacling th" agent and not the principal. This conduct of -.ne ,s attended witl, one advantage, tlm if any it not a downright madman. But in opcnini^ your evuence, if you should state any' iZ grossly false, or contrary to nhat you eitlferhtc said, 11 * 273 €aid, or are to say, or in its own nature distant from the practice and custom of the forum, docs not that injure your cause ? In short, iny chief object in speaking (for I will repeat it) is to do niy cause all the service in my povwr ; and, if I cannot succeed in that, to do it no harm by be- ing silent. CHAP. LXXVI. I THEREFORE now return, Catuhis, to that point for which you some time ago praised me; I mean the order and arrangement of facts and topics. In this, two methods are to be observed ; the first, that which the nature of the cause die- tates ; the other, which depends upon the judg- ment and good sense of the pleader. For the very nature and genius of eloquence requires us to premise somewhat before we come to the main point; next, that we prove it, by guarding all our own arguments, and confuting those of our antagonists; then to finish with a suitable con-r elusion. But as to the ma:^ims that arc laid down with regard to what we are to say, in order to prove, instruct, and persuade, that is the chief thing left to the good sense of the orator, A great many proofs present themselves ; with several circumstances which promise to serve our pleadings; but of these, some are unimportant ; and others, if in any way serviceable, are some- times of such a nature, as to betray some flaw or other ; yk 1 » J r$ > ( 1 . ac' ^k [r^ 273 othev; in whicli case the service they do is nof so considcable as the mischief they b^^i g In. with them. But as to the proofs tl'at are to thf l-pose^ and strong-, at ieast if; as it often h! fZV 17""'^ """^^'•«"^' I ^^""k it proper tJut the shjvhtest, or those that are to the same P^pose.,th others. ^ pa ated and set aside out of the pleadino- • and ndeed, for n.y own part, while I am coHe'ct ' evKlence, I use rather to weigh than to num! CHAP. LXXVII. We bring, as I have often observed, others to our sentiments by three thino-s bv ;«/!. , rn.irUhn; , tilings, by tn orviing, by stvan ".''"'"r'"'-^ «- -ght ever to be ob- ou, M>e vtav was to inform. As to the other wo they are to a speech what blood is to IZ. tf'lnZCl '° ';''^"-^^' ^^"""^h tf-' -hole o all pieadino-s. For both the beginning, and t e o her parts of a speech, (a pohit whrc'l " e o to ! rr""' ''f ^'^O-iilate themselves o as to b able to touch the minds of the audi- ence. 13ut as to the parls of a discourse, which though they do not at all inform in th aUu- ma,tata-e way, yet are extremely serviceable^ L tlie persuasive and the pathetic, though they ■*' properly ',>:> 274 properly come in at the beginning, or in the close of a speech, yet, for all that, it is highly conve- nient, in order to touch the passions, that you make digressions from the main points, which you had proposed to discuss. Therefore, after the case is represented, after oar own proofs are made good, or those of our antagonists refuted ; or, in either, or in all these parts, an opportuni- ty IS often afforded for a digression, in order to touch the passions ; and such a digression may be very properly introduced, if the nature of the cause is of that importance and variety as to ad- mit It: and those causes which give the greatest latitude for such digressions, where we can in- troduce those topics by which the feelings of an audience are impelled, or restrained, afford the greatest room, and the fullest opportunities for exaggerating and embellishing. Now that I speak of this, I must find fault with those who place their weakest arguments first ; and I think, as to this particular, they too are in fault, who^ ]f upon any occasion they employ a great num- ber of advocates, a custom which upon all oc- casions I am against, always desire him whom they think the weakest to speak first. For the very nature of things requires, that you come up, as soon as possible, to the expectation of an audience, because if they are disappointed in the beginning, the orator must labour a great deal harder in the succeeding part of the pleading, and a cause is in a bad way, when you do not prepossess the hearer with a favourable opinion of it .,^fl } ,w /"v fl \ ) Q75 h at the commencement. Therefore, as in the case of orators, the best slionld always be em- ployed first ; so in pleading your strongest points should be first insisted upon ; provided always, in both cases, that wherever the distinguishing excellence of either lies, it be kept up to the pe"^ roration. If any circumstances are hut indiffer- ent, (for we always reject those that are faulty) let them be thrown into the general mass, and huddled in the whole aggregate. Having lastly weighed all these particulars, I proceed to consi- der what I am to say in the first place, and how I shall set out ; for whenever I wished to consi- der the introduction first, nothing occurred to me but what was dry, trifling, trite, and common. CHAP. LXXVIII. As to the introduction of a speech, it ought al- ways to have accuracy, acuteness, sentiment, and propriety of expression, but especially calcu- lated to the practice of the bar. For the first judgment, and, as it were, prejudice, which is formed in favour of a speech, arises from its set- ting out, which ought instantly to sooth and en- tice the hearer. Here I used to be surprised, not at those people who never applied to this busi- ness, but at Philip, a man of the first rank for eloquence and learning, who generally, when he rises up to speak, seems to be at a loss how he should begin ; yet, at the same time, he says, that T 2 after 276 ut!'"to fi u'- ''°"'' '"'''" '"'^ ''^"^ '^ ''"- «^en he uses to fight m earnest; without reflecting that the very people from whenee he horro ef th luMon toss their first javehns with great coo ! pet' Zr^"' ^°*'' *' "^^^ ^'^^'^ ^d^'^ess ap- peai with i^rcater irrace anr? tr^ ^ , • ^. , ^ ^* ^iULc, ana to manaire tlieir treno,]. And there is no doubt but a pta i I sp'nted; but ,f, among men who fight for their e":;„:f"" "^"^ ^"'•'^^- P- ^^eforet e^ race f; ^^"^'' '''"''' ^''P^^'' ^'^ ^e more for pa^ eltc ,"•'" ""'T' ''"^'"^"^'^ "^"••^'■^ this to be expected ,„ speaking, ^yhere strength and sweet- ness are required to go ],and in hrnd. The,e s tseln to effect all at once, and suddeni/ va- "'snes; m hke manner, nature l,ath disguised v-0 ent con,mot.o„s. But your ppca„,ble is not to be sought fron, abroad, nor elsewhere but must be taken fron, tu ^-uiicie, out cause P .1 "- ''''y "'^""^^ of your cause. For tins pu.posc, after you liave felt and surveyed the whole of your cause, after you "e consK er winch of tln-n, you are to employ in the 1— We; ,t is thus easily found out,: f;;r it must here /„ o,^ .n '^^^'^^^^^^- J The vulgar editions read ... i-o'" .:.7r;rt:r 7*'"- ■"■'■'■"- "■y tJi some manuscripts. He env^ it ;. ^ u expression' i aH,i :, •, , /^^ ^»JS '^ is a much more usual i ^ion . i add, it is much better sense. f> 277 must be taken from the allegations that are most tertile, either m proofs, or best adapted to those characters, mto which I have said we ouo-ht fre- quently to deviate. Thus, it can never'fail of bemg some way important, when it is borrowed m a manner from the main stress of our pleadino- • and It will thereby appear tiiat it is not only not common, and not applicable to other causes, but shoots, and, as it were, flourishes from the cause, winch IS your immediate business. CHAP. LXXIX. Every preamble of a speech then ought either to give an intimation of the whole matter that is m hand, or to open and pave the way to the me- rits of the cause, or to serve for ornament and dignity. But, as in architecture houses and temples have their porticos and entries propor- tioned to them, so in pleading, the preamble of a speech ought to be in proportion to the import- ance of its subject. Therefore where the cause Js trite and trifling, it is often most convenient to begin with the matter itself Eut, as is gene- rally the case, when the pleading requires an ex- ordium, we are at liberty to borrow our senti- ments from somewhat that regards either the party, or his antagonist, or the matter in dis- pute, or the judges. From the party (I call tliem so whose interest is at stake) we borrow whatever is expressive of a man of worth and •T ^ generosity, 2T8 generosity, but unfortunate, and meriting com- passion; and likewise wliatever can most effec- tually destroy an unjust accusation. From the person of the adversary, we are to borrow almost the very opposite qualifies, from the same com^ mon-places. From the matter; whether it is cruel, unnatural, happening contrary to all pro- bability, unjust, piteous, ungrateful, unworth}^ unprecedented, irredeemable, and irretrievable? But that the judges may be prepossessed in our favour, is a thing to be attained rather by plead- ing than by supplication. That indeed must mingle with the whole of a discourse, but chiefly in the end of it; yet the setting out often is of this kind. For the Greeks teach that we are first to render the judge attentive and tractable; though that is not more peculiar to the setting out, than to all the other parts of a discourse ; but tlien they are most easily affected at the be- ginning, when the-attention is most awakened, when the expectation is highest, and \vhen the mind is most susceptible of impressions. What- ever too is said in setting out, whether by way of allegation or defence, appears with greatet lustre than in the middle of a pleading. Eut the greatest variety of exordiums, either for enticing or moving a judge, are drawn from those to- pics, vvhich, in the cause itself, are most pro- per for moving the passions ; yet you are not to display all these in the very beginning, but you are to move the judge by a gentle impulse, so that o 79 I I ■ ^. u (^ 4 ^ that the rest of your discourse may fall in with his biass. CHAP. LXXX. The beginning, therefore, ought to be so con- nected with the subsequent part of a speech, as not to appear like the flourish of a musician, a thing detached ; but like a well-proportioned member, of a piece with the whole body. For some people, after they have finished this preme- ditated part, make such a transition to the rest of their discourse, that they seem to demand, that the audience should suit themselves to their fancies. An orator then ought to treat a pre- lude, not as the Samnites do their spears, which they brandish before they encounter, though they decline the use of them in the combat; for he ought to fight armed with the very senti- ments he used in his prelude^ But as to the nar- rative, which they require to be short ; if, by shortness is meant a style full without redun- dancy, then you have an example of it in the style of Lucius Crassus: If brevity consists in making use of just as many words as are absolutely necessary, that may sometimes indeed be expe- dient ; but it is often very prejudicial to a narra- tive, not only as it renders it obscure, but like- wise because it destroys the chief property of a narrative, which consists in its being agreeable, and adapted to persuade: for instance, where T4 the 28C of tlie remaining speech. You are next to state the case ; in doing which you are to have in view the point in dispute. You are then to form the strongest arguments you can to support your side of the question both by invahdating the rea- soning of your antagonist, and estabhshing your own. For the confirming the argumentative part by evidence is a matter of singular importance in trials. But as you cannot confute your antago- nist, without establishing your own allegations, nor can you establish your own without con- futing his, these parts are joined both in their na- ture and utility. But all speeches are generally concluded witli amplifications, in order either to exasperate or mollify the judge ; and all the abi- lities of an orator, as in the exordium, so more es- pecially in the conchision of the speech, are to be exerted in giving the strongest impulse to the feelings of the judges in our own favour. And, to tell the truth, I can see no reason why we should make distinct heads of the rules relatinir to persuasion, and those relating to panegyric. For they are for the most part of common apph- cation, yet to debate either for or against any question, to me a])pears a very important charac- ter. For it belongs to the wise alone to deliver an opinion upon the highest matters ; and it.re- quircs honesty and eloquence to foresee withAin- derstanding, to inforce with authority, an<( to prevail after debate. CHAP. 4 283 > CHAP. LXXXIL 13 UT such particulars should assume less pomp in the senate : for the senate is an assemhlv of wise men, where many must have liberty to speak in their several turns, and where one should avoid all affectation of wit, and all ostentation of abilities. But a public assembly requires all the energy, the weight, and the colouring of elo- quence. In the persuasive, therefore, the princi- pal character is dignity. For he who aims at uti- lity, never considers what the person who debates most wishes for, but sometimes what is in itself attainable. For there is not a man, especially in so noble a state as this, who does not think that dignity is the most desirable character. But in- terest generally gets the better, when a man is afraid that, if his interest is neglected, he shall be incapable of retaining his dignity. Men either dis- agree respecting the utility of a question, or if they agree in this, they deliberate whether they ought most to regard honesty, or interest ? As these seem often incompatible with one another, the man who stands by his interest expatiates upon the ad- vantages of peace, riches, power, money, revenues. safety, and a fine army, together with other ad- vantages, which are computed by their utility; at the same time, he lays out the inconveniences of the contrarv measures. The man who consults dignity will recount the examples of our ancestors, 3 whQ> 5i84 tvho pursued glory, though attended with danger ; he will display the immortal flime that we leave to posterity ; he will maintain that the interest of his country arises from her honour, and is insepa- rable from her dignity. But in both these ques- tions the points in dispute are ; xchat can be donCy or cannot be done ? For all debate is at an end, if it is on all hands understood, that a measure is either absolutely impossible, or inevitably ne- cessary ; and the man who has proved this be^ fore the other members are sensible of it, must be allowed to see farther than the rest. But to have weight in debates of apolitical nature, the chief thing is, to be acquainted with the state of the public, and to know the manners and customs of your country : these, as they frequently change, occasion changes as frequent in the manner of speaking, and although the power of eloquence is generally the same, yet because the dignity of the people is the highest, the cause of our country the weightiest, the inclinations, and commotions of the many the strongest, all this seems to require a more grand and elevated manner of speaking : and the greatest part of the harangue must be ap- plyed to the passions, either by way of encou- ragement, or commemoration, or they are to be worked upon by hopes, by fears, by desire, or by glory ; they are often too to be reclaimed from rashness, resentment, hope, injury, hatred, and cruelty. CHAR 285 CHAP. LXXXIII. It happens too, that as the assembly of the people is the highest scene in which an orator can display his powers, he feels a natural wish to speak with greater elegance. For the efficacy of speaking to vast numbers is such, that an ora- tor, without being heard by numbers, can no more display his eloquence, than a musician can play without instruments. And because the humours of the populace are many and various, all shouts of disapprobation must be guarded against, whe- ther raised by any blemi§h in the speech, in which somewhat may seem too vehement, too assuming, too mean, too sordid, or to have been dictated by a depraved heart ; or it may proceed from the prejudice or the envy of men, which is either well grounded, or arising from calumny or report; or it may be occasioned by the dis- agreeableness of the subject, or by some impulse of their own hopes and fears. To those four dis- eases as many remedies may be applied. First, reproof, where there is authority : or instead of reproof, gentle admonition. A promise that the speaker will make good what he acivances, if they will hear him : and then intreaties, which is the lowest kind,but sometimes useful. But there is no place where wit,quickness, and some smart saying, not without dignity, but with humour, have a better effect. For it is often easy to mitigate the sorrows. 286 sorrows, and sometimes the keenest resentment of a popular assembly and that by a single word, when seasonably, shrewdly, and facetiously intro- duced. CHAP. LXXXIV. I HAVE now, as well as I could, almost got through my explanation of my usual practice in both kinds of causes, and of those particulars, which I both avoided and regarded, with the general method I observed in all causes. The third kind, namely, paneUT to what purpose should I mention the ad* vantage, the utility, and the force that memory imparts to an orator, to retain all that you have learned, all that has been suggested to your mind, in making yourself master of a cause ? When every sentiment is imprinted on your understand- ing, when the whole pomp of language is there depictured, when you can hear either the person who informs you, or him on whose side you speak, in such a manner, as that he does not seem to pour his discourse into your ears, but rather to write it upon your understanding ? Men of strong memory therefore are alone capable of knowing what, how far, and in what manner they are to speak, what they have answered to, and what remains : at the same time to mention a number of circumstances in other causes they formerly appeared in, and a number they have heard from others. Therefore I confess, indeed, that ^93 tliat nature is the principal bestower of this gift, as she is of every thing 1 have been speaking of ; but this whole art of speaking, or call it, if you will, an image, or resemblance of an art, has the efficacy ; not indeed to beget or nourish such things as did not before exist in the understand- ing, but to nurse and strengthen those things of which we are already conscious and have the seeds in our mind. But there is scarce any man with so happy a memory, as to be able to retain the order of words and sentiments without ar- ranging and affixing local ideas to circumstances ; nor is there any memory so treacherous, as not to be in some measure assisted by such a practice and use. For Simonides, or whoever was the inven- tor of this, with a great deal of sagacity per- ceived that impressions communicated and stamp- ed by the senses most easily adhered in the mind : now the most exquisite of all our senses is that of seeing ; therefore he concluded, that those thmgs which are either heard or conceived would be most surely retained in the mind, if they were communicated by the medium of the sight, since a certain conformity of form and figure, marks those objects which could not come under the cognizance of the sight, in such a manner, as that our visual faculties, as it were, comprehended what our intellectual cannot. Eut locality must still be understood to be affixed to these ideas and bodies, and indeed to all objects of seeing ; for space is inseparably connected with the idea of a body. Not to be unnecessarily tedious upon a U 3 well- 254 well-known, self-evident matter, we must in short make use of local circumstances, which require to be various, clear, plain, and pretty nearly con- nected : but the ideas which serve as the inter-? mediate agents, must be distinct and well marked, and such as may occur to and strike the mind with the greatest quickness. Practice communicates this faculty ; from practice arises habit, together with the distinction, which is made by substitut- ing synonymous words ; or removed from par- ticulars to generals ; add to this, that the mean- ing conveyed by one word serves for a whole sentence, and this word marks out the local cir- cumstances by the various ideas affixed to it : in the same manner as any s^kiliul painter manages his light and shade. CHAP. LXXXVIIL But verbal memory, which is less necessary for our business, is distinguished by a greater variety of figures: for there are many words which, like the joints of the human body, connect the mem- bers of a discourse, and are entirely abstracted from all sensible ideas ; vet wc must affix some determinate qualities to those words, which we must always make use of. The memory of things is the business of a pleader : and that may be informed by well placed ideas affixed to the se- veral objects, that wc may retain sentiments by ideas,and order by places. Nor is it all true what is 895 is given out by the iiulolent, that memory is overloaded with ideas, and that this variety throws a cloud even upon the natural faculty which we might otherwise exert. For I have seen the greatest men, men endowed with an al- most divine memory ; at Athens, Charneades ; and Metrodorus of Scep$is in Asia, who I hear is still hving ; and both these said, that they used ideas upon those places, which they wanted to retain on their memories, in the same manner as one does characters upon wax. Therefore me- mory can never be created by this practice, where nature does not co-operate ; but if nature has im- planted, it is certain that it may by this means be called forth. I have now finished this long, I wish I could say this modest dissertation : I may at least venture to say the author is not over diffident, when he has ventured, to throw out so much upon the subject of eloquence in the hearing, Catulus, of you and L. Crassus : as for these young gentlemen, 1 am perhaps under the less concern, because they are but young ; but I hope you will pardon me, from a consideration of the motive that prompted me to this uuusal loquacity. CHAP. LXXXIX. As to us, says Catulus, for so much I will say both for my brother and myself, we not only forgive you, but owe you both love and gratitude for U 4 what m 9 %vliat you have done, and it is impossible to act^ knowledge your politeness and good-nature, without admiring the extent of your knowledge. One thing I think I have compassed by this con- versation, which is, tliat I am now delivered from a great mistake, and shall no longer wonder, with many others, how it came that in all causes you acquitted yourself with divine skill. For I did not think that you had so much as a smattering in the knowledge of which I perceive you are a complete master, which you have gathered from all hands, and as practice has been your instruc- tor, I perceive at the same time that you have partly reformed, and partly confirmed that of others. This does not at all detract from the hiirh opinion I have of your eloquence, and for less of your virtue and application : at the same time I am glad that my own judgment has been con- firmed, since 1 have always laid it down as a maxim, that no man can attain the character of good sense and eloquence, without great study, application, and learning. But what did you mean by saying that you hoped we would pardon you, if we reflected upon the motives that drew you into this discourse ? What could these mo- tives be, but your willingness to oblige us, and to satisfy the curiosity of these young gentlemen, who heard you with the greatest attention ? To this, he replies, I wanted to deprive Crassus of all excuse ; for I knew that he was a little either too ditfident or too unwilling, for 1 will not call it pride in so amiable a man, to engage in this kincl 297 kind of discourse ? For what plea could he urge ? That he is a man of consular and censo- rial authority ? So are we. Was he to tell us that he has years on his side ? He is four years younger than we are. Could he pretend that he was ignorant of matters which I accumulated, I acknowledge, but late and cursorily, and in my leisure hours ? whereas he, from his childhood, has given the greatest application to them, under the greatest masters. Not to mention his ge- nius, in which he is unrivalled. For no man can hear me speak, however humble the opinion he lias of himself, without hoping he can either speak better, or as well: but when Crassus is speaking, no man has the arrogance so much as to imagine he ever can come up to him. Therefore, Crassus, that gentleman of their quality may not be disap- pointed in coming here, let us at last hear you. CHAP. XC. To this the other replies, admitting what you have said to be the case, as it is far from being so, what have you this day left for me, or for any other to add upon this subject ? For, my dearest friends, I will speak from my heart Often have I heard learned men — yet not often, as I came but a boy into the forum, from whence I was never absent longer than when I was a qusestor : — some- times, however I have heard learned men, as I told you yesterday, at Athene, and when I was in Asia, il': 2.98 Asia; I also attended the celebrated Metrodorus of Scepsis, lecturing upon these very subjects ; but not one of them, to my thinking, had so much command, so much acutenessin this man- ner of speaking, as Antony has this day displayed : were it otherwise, and did I think he had omit- ted any thing, I should not be guilty of so much incivility, -nay rudeness, as to be backward in a point in which I am sensible you wish to be informed. Says Sulpicius ; but, Crassus, have you forgot that Antony, divided the subject in such a manner with you, that he took upon him- self to explain the mechanic part of an orator's business, but left all the distinguishing and em- bellishing part to you. In the first place, replies Crassus, who gave Antony leave, both to make this division, and then to have his choice of tlie parts ? In the next place, if I understood him rightly, while I was hearing him with a great deal of pleasure, it appeared to me that he spoke jointly upon both subjects. But, says Cotta, he did not touch upon the ornaments of language or that excellence from which eloquence has de- rived its very name. So, replies Crassus, Antony has taken the substance to himself, and left the name to me. If he has left the most difficult part to you, says Caesar, we have the better rea- son for desiring to hear you ; if the easiest, you have the less reason to deny us. Did not you, says Crassus, promise, that if we would pass this day at your house you would indulge us ? Will a gentleman make so slight of his. word of honour ? 299 honour ? This made Cotta laugh. Indeed Cras- sus, said he, we would let you have your own way, but take care that Catulus does not make this a matter of conscience : this comes under the cognizance of a censor, and let me advise you to take heed how you do any thing unbecoming a person of censorial authority. Do as you will, re- plies Crassus, but I am of opinion that it is now time to rise and repose : in tjie afternoon, if it be agreeable to you, I will talk over some things ; unless, perhaps, you chusc to defer it till to-morrow. The company immediately told him, that it was in his option, either to do it imme- diately, or in the afternoon ; but they intimated, that the sooner he performed his promise, it would !;e the more agreeable to them. f-ND OF THE SECOND BOQK, K-fv M. TULLIUS CICERO iii^ ON THE CHARACTER OF AN ORATOR. THE THIRD CONFERENCE. CHAP. I. ^ ^ HILE I was proposing, brother Qiilntus, in this third book, to relate that discourse which Crassus made, when Antony had finished his dis^ scrtation, the remembrance of a very bitter afflic- tion awakened the anguish and disquietude of my mind ; for the divine, the accomplished, the vir- tuous Crassus, died suddenly the tenth day after the conversation mentioned in this and the for- mer book passed. For after lie had returned to Rome, the last day of the public games/ he was strongly affected with a speech in the assembly of the people, in which he was told that Philip had said. That some other counsel besides that of the senate was now to be adopted, as, with such a senate he could 7iot direct the affairs of the conwwjiwealth. In the morning of the ides of September, Crassus, in a full house of the senate, as- sembled at the summons ofDrusus, poured forth a great many complaints against Philip, and laid 2 before 301 before tlie members the matter for which the other had inveighed against their order before the; as- sembly of the people. A circumstance here hap* pened to Crassus, which I have often known to be incidental to men of consummate abilities ; for though it was generally allowed, that when he spoke with more than ordinary accuracy, he never spoke better ; yet it was on all hands agreed, on that day, that though Crassus had before excel- led the rest of the world, on that occasion he sur- passed himself. He bewailed the calamity, and the destitute condition of the senate ; an order of which the consul ought to be the indulgent pa- rent, and the faithful guardian ; but that now their hereditary dignity was plundered by a con- sul, with all the rapaciousness of a lawless ruffian : and it was not at all to be wondered at, if, after dishonouringhis country by his counsels, he should now make a separation between it and the autho- rity of the senate. When hehad thus, as it were, with words of fire, assailed Philip, a violent man, and an able speaker, and one who had a spirit re- markably daring, the other could not bear it, but took flames, and determined to force Crassus into compliance, by confiscating his goods. It was upon this head, that Crassus was said to have spoken so divinely, by maintaining, That since the adversary would not treat hiiu as a senator, nei- ther ought he to be regarded as a consul. Do you, continues he, who have looked upon the au^ thority W: 502 tlwrity of this order as no other than as a venal pledge^' which you have put up to sale in the sight of the people of Rone, imagine, that I am to be terrified by the coyijiicatiov of my property ? No ; ivould you rest rain Crassus, it must not be by for- feiting these; ycu must first cut out my tongue; and even xvhen that is gone, my soul shall, xcith the spirit of liberty, quell the lust of thy ambi- tion. CHAP. IL It appears that this was followed by a great number of expressions, in which were exerted the utmost efforts of mind, genius, and strength ; it was then the famous sentiment fell from liim, and was followed by the applauses of the whole body, in the most magnificent and weighty terms; THAT THE RoMAN PEOPLE WIGHT HAVE JUSTICE BONE THEM, NEITHER THE COUN- SELS, OR THE DUTY OF THE SENATE HAD BEEN WANTING TO THE REPUBLIC; and it appears by the public registers, that he himself was present wlien tlie act was engrossed. The speech and the voice of this divine person, were like those of the swan ; and so fascinating was the harmony which charmed our ears, that after his *ThegoodsofacItIzcn,scIzed and put to sale by a magis. irate, yverc called pignora pledges, i. c, securities for the fine imposed upon him. When taken away for sale, they were said to be cw^a. 303 his death we frequently repaired to the senate* house to view that spot where lie had last stood. For I was informed that his exertion in that speech occasioned a stitch in his side, followed by excessive sweating ; this brought on a shiver- ing, which obliged him to return home in a fe- ver, where he died the seventh day of his illness. How deceitful are the hopes of man ! how frail our fortune ! and how trifling our pursuits ! of- ten are they interrupted, often are they ruined in the middle of their career, and wrecked in the voyage before we can come in sight of the har- bour. For while the life of Crassus was confined to the toils of ambition, so long was he eminent more for the duties of private friendship, and the excellency of his personal accomplishments, than the distinctions of public applause, the privileges of grandeur, or his figure in the government But the very first year after he had opened his way, by going through the public honours with universal applause, to the highest distinction hi* country could bestow, death cut short all his pur- poses, and all the schemes of his life. This was a stroke mournful to his friends, afflicting to his country, and heavy to all worthy patriots : but the calamities which soon after happened to the state, were such, that to me it appears, the gods cannot be so properly said to have deprived L Crassus of life, as to have rewarded him witli death. For he did not live to see all Italy involv- ed in the flames of war, the senate burnino- with animosities, the treachery of the greatest men of the y 304 L the state, the affliction of his daughter, the exile of his son-in-law, the mournful flight of C. Ma- rius, nor that universal slaughter after his return, nor, in short, the general desolation of a city, in which, during its greatest glory, he made by far the greatest figure. CHAP. IIL But as my reflections have led me to touch upon the power and the inconstancy of fortune, I will no longer indulge the digression, but confine my- self to the persons who are the original subjects of the conversation we are now entered upon. Who then will not be justified in calling the death of Lucius Crassus a blessing to himself, though it was much bewailed by the public, when he shall reflect upon the fates of those who con- versed with him, almost in his last moments. For we ourselves remember, that Quintus Catu^ lus, a man of consummate excellence, when he implored, not the safety of his fortunes, but a retreat in exile, was reduced to put an end to his life. Then it was that the head of M. Antony, who had saved the head of many a citizen, was fixed upon the rostrum, from which, when consul, lie had with the greatest firmness defended his coun- try ; and winch, when censor, he had adorned with imperial spoils. Not far from that lay the head of C Julius, who was betrayed by his Tuscan landlord, together with tliat of his brother, L. Julius, 305 Julius: therefore Crassus, who did not live to behold those calamities, may be said to liave lived and died with the republic. Tor /le did not see his generous kinsman P. Crassus slain by his own hand, nor the statue of Vesta besprinkled witli the blood of ills colleague the high priest ; nor could a patriot like him have refused to drop a tear at the tragical death of C. Carbo, who was his greatest enemy, and died the same day : /le did not live to see the deplorable, the terrible ends of those two young gentlemen who had de- voted themselves to him. C. Cotta, whom lie had left in the fairest hopes of success, a few days after the death of Crassus, was invidiously deposed tiom the tiibuneship, and a ftw months after driven from the city. But Su!|.icius, who had been exposed to the same burning hatred, when he came to be tribune, resolved to strip of all their dignity, those men with whom, as a pri- vate gentleman, he had lived in the strictest friend- ship : yet the thread of his life, which was then blooming to all the glory that eloquence can be- stow, was cut off by the sword, and the chastise- ment of his rashness went hand in hand with the ruin of his country. Therefbre, Crassus, well may I conclude that heaven watched over you with peculiar providence, by making yourlife glorious, and your death timely. For ^hc vir- tues of thy soul, the constancy of thy prin- ciples, must have exposed you to the cruelty of party-resentment; nor could fortune have saved you from the bitterness of death, without your X livino- 506 Jiving to see the funeral of your country. And not only the power of the factious, but even the success of the patriots, as stained with Roman blood, must have heightened your afflic- tion. CHAP. IV. The misfortunes of the patriots I have already mentioned, and the incidents which I myself have experienced, for the wonderful, the unparalleled affection I bear to my country, all serve to con- vince me of the truth and solidity of your maxim, when you was continually calling me off from all dispute and altercation ; and pointed out, as examples to deter me, the numiCrous, the great, and the sudden falls of the best and most cele- brated men. But as the practice of these maxims is not now in our power, as our greatest toils are alleviated by the compensation of glory, let us proceed to enjoy those comforts which not only are agreeable, when our disquietudes are allayed, but may be salutary, even while they are felt. And to this purpose, let me record the remaining, and almost the last discourse of L. Crassus; and thus communicate to him a glory, W'hich, though not adequate t-o his merit, yet is due from my gratitude. For none of us, when we read the excellent books of Plato, in whicli Socrates is generally introduced, though written with a di- vine spirit, ever conceive any higher opinion of Socrates. 307 Socrates. This is all the favour I beg, not of you who are apt to attribute to me all excellencies • but of my other readers, that tliey w^iU conceive a liigher idea of L. Crassus, than any that can be expressed by my pen. For I, who was not pre- sent at that conversation, the topics and senti- ments only of which were communicated tome by C. Cotta, know tliat both these orators were masters in this way ; and I have endeavoured to give a sketch of it, by keeping up to their seve- ral characters. But if any man should be de- ceived by a vulgar error, that Antony was more barren, or Crassus more exuberant, than they have been drawn by me, he must have either never heard them, or is unable to judge. For both of them, as I said before, excelled\ll their contemporaries in application, genius, and learn- mg, and so perfect were they in their respective methods, that no embellishment of speech was wantmg in Antony, nor redundancv perceived in Crassus. CHAP. V. The company therefore breaking up before the heat of the day, went to take a short repose, and Cotta said he took particular notice that Crassus passed all that time in an intense, profound me- ditation. He said farther, that, as he was very well acquainted, (by having often observed it in the most weighty causes) M^ith the cast of fea- ^ 2 tiires '•'•W'' ' «w^ 308 tures and looks natural to Crassus before he began to speak, upon this occasion he Avas careful not to disturb Crassus, as he lay on liis couch in the parlour, while others were at rest; and, fiuding him buried in thought, he im- mediately retired ; and that almost twohours were spent in this stillness : As the afternoon drew on, all of them came in to Crassus ; w hen, says Julius, shall \vc take our seats, Crassus ? We are not no\v^ come to beg a favour, but to lay a claim. Says Crassus, do you suppose me guilty of so much assurance, as any longer to withhold a debt of this kind ? Then, replies the other, name vour place. M'hat do you think of the middle of the wood, for there it is most cool and shadowy ? With all my heart, replies Crassus; there is a seat not at all unsuitable for our con- versation. When the rest of the company agreed to this, they went to the wood, where they took their seats, in the highest expectation of what they should hear. Then Crassus began. Both your authority, saysh.c, and friendship, joined to the compliance of Antony, has deprived me of all liberty to deny your request, a liberty which I might well justify. But when he made the parti- tion of the shares we are to bear in this disputation, he took to himself the subjects upon which an orator must speak, and left it to me to explain the manner in which they are to be embellished : by this partition he divided things that are in their own nature inseparable ; for as every speech is made up of things and xvords^ words can have no 309 no place if you take away f/u7?gs, nor can t/iwgs be explained without the help of zcords. And to me the ancients appeared to have n.ore com- prehensive ideas and views, than our inteiiectual faculties can take in ; for they maintained, that all these things which are above and below, form one system, bound together by one power, and subservient to the same predominating will of nature. For there is not any one kind, which, when severed from the others, can exist of itself; while others, if deprived of any one kind, are unable to preserve their being and duration. CHAP. VI. But if this system is too extensive to be com- prehended by human sense and reflection, at the same time, the maxim of Plato, with which, Catulus, you are not unacquainted, is founded on truth ; that all knowledge of the liberal and polite arts is connected by a simple, mutual rela- tion. For when we are capable to perceive the force of that reasoning, by which we become master of causes and events, we find a wonder- ful harmony and sympathy running through every species of knowledge. But if this is too sublime for the comprehension of us grovelino- mortals, yet it must be at least allowed, that we ought to know and possess ourselves of that busi- ness which we have embraced, which we profess and undertake. For, as I said yesterday, and as X 3 Antony !.i mI;:! f: i 310 Antony intimated in some passages of his dis-» course this forenoon, eloquence, in whatever channels, into whatever quarters of disputations it niay he diffused, is in its own nature uniform. For, whether she treats of the nature of heaven or of earth ; of divine or of human powers ; whether she speaks in an inferior, equal, or superior capa- city ; wliether she directs her powers to impel, to instruct, to deter, to excite, to bend, to fire, or to mohify mankind ; whether she addresses the many or the i(:\v \ whether she speaks among strangers, or to friends, or to herself, yet her speech is still derived from one source, liowever it may proceed in distinct streams ; and however she dkects her course, her furniture and embel- lisliments are the same. But as we are assailed by contrary opinions, not only from the vulo-ar, out even from the smatterers in learning, who find it easier to liandle those points, after tlicy are torn, and, as it were, separated from one ano- ther, which they are unable to comprehend in a general view; and who sever words from senti- ments, which is, as it were, separating the body from the soul, and producing immediate death, I will not undertake to discuss, in what I am going to say, more than I am obliged to do ; but only intimate, in a it\\f w ords, that tlie orna- ments of expression can no more be attained without inventing and arranging sentiments, than a sentiment can be intelligible without the lustre of expression. But before I touch upon these qualities, which I think embellish and en- liirhten 311 lighten a speech, I will in a few words give you my opinion of eloquence in general. CHAP. VII. It appears to me, that every natural sense pos- sesses many properties specifically differing from others, yet all sharing an equal degree of excel- lence. For we hear a great many sounds, which, though very agreeable, yet they are so often dif- ferent from one another, that the last always pleases most; and the pleasures of seeing are al- most innumerable; but they affect us so, tliat the same sense receives the pleasure in a different manner. In like manner, a different ])leasure affects each of our other senses, so that it is hard to judge which sensation is predominant. This observation, drawn from nature, is applicable to arts. Statuary is one art, and the masters in that profession were Myro, Polycletus, Lysippus; yet each of these were unlike to the other, ytt you would not wish any one of them to be unlike himself Painting is one art, and proposes one end, but Zeuxis, Aglaophon, and Apelles, had each of them a different style, yet you could not say that any one of them fell short in any one point of his art. And if this is an astonishing proof in the mute arts, how much more wonderful must its effects be in speech and language ? For though eloquence may make use of the same sen- timents and words, yet her modes are vastly dif- X4 ferent; m m 312 ferent; not that any of tliem are despicable, but those who are evidently exceilent, derive that ex- cellence from different characters. This is chiefly exempiified in poets, who have the nearest rela- tion to orators: how different are Knnius, Pacu- viusj Accius? What a dillcrcnce runs through the writings of ^Eschylus, Sopliocles, and Euri- ))ides among the Greeks, yet the merit of each is almost equal to that of the other, though the manner is dillbrent? Let us now take a view and a survey of the professors of that art we are now discussing, and observe the difference in the manners and characters of orators. The charac- teristic of Isocrates was sweetness; of Lysias, delicacy) o{\\\^itx\i\t%, point edness ; of/Eschines, pomp; of Demosthenes, energy. Each was ex- cellent, yet the excellence of each was peculiar to himself Africanus had xceigkt ; Lcxlius, smoothness ; Galba, keenness ; and Carbo some- what that was flowing and muslcai Each of these was a leading man in his own age, yet each was distinguished by a character peculiar to him- self m>. CHAP. VIIL But why do I recur to old examples, when I have so many alive, and under my eye ; was ever any discourse more captivating than what we heard from Catulus? So pure was it, that he «i'ems almost the only man who uses with pro- priety, S13 priety the Latin tongue • yet its gravity was ^uch, as to unite elegance and refinement with matchless diguity. In short, the judgment I used to form of him, when I heard him speak, is, thatif you either add, change, or impair aught of what he says, he must lose and suffer. What is the character of our friend CjEsar here ? Has he not introduced a new method of speaking, and brought in a species of eloquence that is almost peculiar to himself? Who besides him ever treated tragical subjects almost in a comical man- ner, grave ones with gaiety, serious ones merrily, and matters of law with an almost theatrical gracefulness ? And all this in such a manner, as that wit is not excluded by the importance of the subject, nor is its weiglit lessened by his humour. Here are two young gentlemen nearly equal in age, I mean Sulpicius and Cotta, yet no two things w^xQ ever more unlike, than they are to each other. Was ever any thing more excel- lent in its own kind ? The one, in a polite, deli- cate manner, sets forth his subject in well-chosen, proper expressions ; he still keeps to his point; and as he sees with the greatest penetration that which he is to prove to the court, he directs the whole strength of his reasoning and eloquence to support that, without regarding otherarguments. But Sulpicius, with irresistible energy, with a full, strong voice, with the greatest vehemence and dig- nity of action, at the same time with so much weight, and variety of expression, seems of all mankind the best fitted by nature for eloquence. CHAP. 3H ill CHAR IX. 1 NOW return to ourselves, because the general opinion of the public has always matched us to- gether in eloquence ; no two people were ever more unlike one another, than I am to Antony in speaking : he is so excellent an orator, as never to be excelled in his own kind ; and I, who think humbly of myself, (for that reason principally) am compared with him. You know in what consists the distinguishing excellence of Antony. It is nervous, empassioned, animated with action, guarded and fortified on all hands, keen, cutting, perspicuous, retreating with honour, pursuing with resolution, terrifying, supplicating, his elo- quence greatly diversified, our ears never sati- ated. As to my elocjuence, such as it is, for you seem to allow it some degree of merit, it is surely very difierent from that of Antony : what it is it becomes not me to say, because a man is generally the greatest stranger to himself, and the least ac- quainted with his own character ; yet still a dif- ference is discernible, both in the coolness of my action, and from my finishing my speeches ge- nerally in the same si)ot of grouncl in which I set out ; and because I am put to some moie trouble in the choice of my v/ords and sentiments than he is, as he is afraid, that if his eloquence is in the least obscure, it may not answer the great ex- pectation, and profound silence it creates. But if 315 if there is such diflerence betwixt us who are pre- sent, and if each has his own characteristic, and the excelleut are distinguished from the faulty, rather by the degrees of personal abilities than the kinds, and every thing that is in its own kind excellent is commended, what should one say if he were able to take within his view all the orators now alive, or that ever lived, in any country ? Would he not pronounce that every one of these orators had a style of eloquence peculiar to him- self? From what I have said perhaps it may be objected, that if the modes and styles of eloquence are almost innumerable, yet specifically dififerent, and generally excellent that their characteristical difl^erences cannot be regulated by the same pre- cepts. But it is not so ; for those who instruct others ought to pay particular attention to that bias, with which nature has severally impressed the minds of men. For we perceive, that in the arts, the same schools, as it were, furnish, and the same artists and masters form, scholars in their respective arts, very dissimilar, yet all of them excellent in their kind; therefore the teacher must accommodate his manner to their several capacities. The most remarkable instance of this, that I may confine myself to the art of elo- quence, is what was said by the incomparable Isocrates, that Ephorus required a spur, and Theopompus a rein; for he checked the one, who was too bold in the use of language, and lie stimulated the other, Avho was hesitating and timid in his nature. At the same time he did not ren- dei" ill It' ll ?. 'i i Sl6 der them similar, but what he added to the one^ he subtracted from the other, so as to impart to both all the excellence which their respective nature would admit. i ' (,i CHAP. X. I THOUGHT proper to premise thus much, lest all that I propose should not be adapted to your several studies, and to that mode of speaking which each possesses, that you may be sensible I only express myself upon that species of elo- quence which is most suited to my own manner. Therefore the particulars that have been laid out by Antony, are not only to be observed in the practice, but in a special manner to be expressed in the eloquence, of an orator. And what man- ner of speaking (for I shall afterwards touch upon action) is preferable to a style that is correct, per- spicuous, graceful, and suited to the business we have in hand. But I imagine you do not expect that I am to give vou anv account of the two first particulars I have mentioned, I mean tliat of a pure, perspicuous style. For, as we do not at- tempt to teach eloquence to tliose who do not yet know the use of speech, so ought wt not to expect, that he who is ignorant of Latin, should know how to speak it with elegance ; for it is impossible that we should admire what we do not understand. Therefore let us omit those particulars, the knowledge of which is easy, but the 317 the application necessary : for the one is delivered in a scholastic way, and learned by school-boys; the other is used to render what one says more in- telligible; This is a point, which, though abso- lutely necessary, yet appears of all others the least important. But the most perfect model of elo- quence, while it is polished by knowledge, is also improved by reading the works of orators and poets. For the ancient authors, though they were incapable of embellishing what they deli- vered, yet they generally spoke very nobly, and the man who accustoms himself to their style, however careless of his diction, cannot speak otherwise than in a pure language. At the same time, we are, by no means to make use of ex- pressions, not sanctioned by the present age ; but only, as I shall shew afterwards, when they are sparingly introduced by way of ornament. But whoever has, with attention, perused the writings of the ancients, will still make use of well-known expressions; and, amongst these, will know how to speak the choicest. CHAP. XI. But in order to speak purely, we must take cart not only to use terms that are unexceptionable in point of grammar, and to attend to propriety in cases, tenses, genders, and numbers, so that no expression may be confused, incongruous, or pre- posterous ; but we must even regulate our tongue, Hi r^ 7 3IS tongue, our breath, and the very tone of our voice. I would not have the letters expressed in a slovenly and indistinct manner; I would have every word pronounced not in a spiritless phleg- matic tone, nor yet with a pompous inflated breath. I now speak of the voice, not as it is connected with action, but witn lano-uaore: for there are certain faults which every man would wish to avoid : such as a weak cfTeniinate voice, or one excessively harsh and inharmonious : but there is a fault which some affect : for some peo- ple love a clownish country tone, because the language sounds antique; like, Catulus, your com- panion L. C'otta, who seemed to pride in the un- couthness of his expression, and the clownish- ness of his tone, and thought whatever he spoke appeared antiijue, if it had the air of rusticity. For my part I am charmed with the smoothness of your delivery. Not to speak of the principal point, whicli is expression : this, however, is dic- tated by reason, acquired by instruction, and confirmed by hal)it in reading and speaking. AV hat I now ujention, regards only the sweetness of sound, which amongst the Greeks was pccu- liar to Athens, and amongst the Latins is pecu- liar to this city. The learning of the Athenians, has long since expired in Athens, and only the seat of study remains, which is neglected by the inhabitants, and enjoyed by foreigners who are attracted by the celebrity of that city. Yet any ignorant Athenian speaks more agreeably than the most learned of the Asiaticks: I do not mean i 3 with 319 with regard to the language, but the pronuncia- tion ; not because he speaks better, but with greater ease. The Latins apply more to learning than the citizens of Rome ; yet the most illite- rate within our knowledge, far excels in smooth- ness of delivery, and sweetness of tone, Q. Va- lerius Soranus, the most learned of all the Romans. CHAP. XIL Since, therefore, there is a manner of pronunci- ation peculiar to Romans, and to this city ; a man- ner in w^iich nothing can offend you, nothing can disgust, nothing can displease you ; a manner in which there is nothing uncouth, nothing foreign, let us follow that, and learn to avoid, not a clownish roughness only, but likewise a foreign articula- tion. For my part, when I hear my mother-in- law Laslia (for it is easier for women to preserve uncorrupted the pronunciation of antiquity, be- cause, by keeping less company than men, they alwavs adhere to what thev first learned) I think that I am conversing with Plautus or Naevius : So simple, so unaffected is her tone, that she ap- pears quite void of pedantry or affectation ; thence I conclude that her father spoke in the same manner; that he again spoke in the same manner with his forefathers; and I infer from this, that our ancestors did not talk in a rouiih manner like the person above mentioned, nor yet in a turgid, nor in a rustic, nor in a clownish way, 320 way, but with compiessed, even, and gentle elo- cution. Therefore, Sulpicius, wlien you imitate our friend Cotta, sometimes by dropping the /, and sounding £ roundly, you do nor, in my eyes, resemble an ancient orator, but a modern peasant. When Sulpicius himscH' could not lielp laughing at this : I treat you in this nianner, savs Crassus, that since you would force me to speak, you may hear some of your own faults. \Vc are obliged to you, replies the other, it is the very thing we wished for, and if you will extend your complaisance, I make no doubt of your being able to amend many of my defects before we part. Ay, but says Crassus, it is impossible Sulpicius for me to blame you without reflecting on my- self, since Antony has complimented me with being very like you. Ikt, replies Sulpicius, he told us, at the same time, that we ought to imi- tate the beauties of our original ; therefore, I am afraid that I imitate you in nothing but the stamp of your foot, a few expressions, and a little gesture. 'Jliercfore, answers Crassus, I do not find fault with the properties you borrowed from me, lest I should by that means reflect upon myself: but I have many faults of a more serious nature than those you have mentioned. But as to those which are originally your own, or those acquired by imitating another, I will give you my advice, wherever I can do it properly. CHAP, 321 [J CHAP. XIII. Let us, therefore, pass over the rules of speaking with purity, which we learn at school, and which are confirmed by more refined knowledge and taste, by the daily habits of conversation, by ac- quaintance with modern books and reading an- cient orators and poets. Nor shall I continue long in discussing the means of perspicuity in what we deliver; for that is effected by using plain common terms, expressive of the matter^ which we want to communicate, without any am- biguity, without too long periods, without f )rced metaphors, or farfetched allusions, without any incongruity in sentiment, without any confusion in regard to time, without any confusion of per- sons, without any violation of order : But need I add any more? The whole matter is so easjr, that it is surprising to me that the advocate should speak more unintelligibly^ to the judge, than the client does to the advocate. For wlien our clients come to consult us, they generally lay their business so plainly before us, that one could not desire to have a clearer view of the case; but as soon as Fusius, or the favourite Pomponius, begins to talk over the same matter, I own it requires all my attention to make me understand them as well, for all they say is a con- fused mass, without method, and without dis- tinctness; their words being so obscure, that Y their i S22 their pleading, instead of enlightening the sub- ject, as it ought to do, throws over the whole a gloom and a darkness, in such a manner, that at every other turn they confound themselves. But as I hope you have all of you, especially Antony and Catulus, heard enough of observations which are tedious and puerile, I will, with your appro- bation, pass to something else, which perhaps is still somewhat more disagreeable. CHAP. XIV- You perceive, says Antony, no doubt, that our attention is wandering, that we hear you with re- luctance, since we could be brought to suspend all our business (for 1 judge of others by my- self) to follow you ; so well qualified are you to give neatness to mean, co])iousness to dry, and novelty to common subjects, by your man- ner of treating them. That, Antony, replies he, is, because tliQ. two parts I just now touched, or rather skimmed over, I mean that of speaking in a pure diction, and a perspicuous manner, are very easy. The parts that remain are important, intricate, various and weighty, requiring, in an admirable degree, the united powers of genius and elo(iuence. Propriety of diction never makes an orator admired, though his speaking improperly makes him ridiculous. And people, so far from thinking him an orator, do not think him a rational being. A man can never expect 323 expect to be praised for speaking intelligibly to an audience, but he must expect to be despised if he does otherwise. Where is the man whose eloquence can strike an audience wath terror, amazement, and ecstasy ? Whom do men consi- der, if I may use the expression, as a god on earth ? It is he who, with method, distinctness, copiousness, and perspicuity, knows how to treat both things and words, and who forms his pe- riods with certain rhythm and harmony, in which, in my opinion, gracefulness consists. He who knows how to treat things and persons suitable to their different characters, excels in what I cM propriety and congruity. Antony, who de- nied he had ever seen a man who came up to this character, said, that such a man alone could deserve the praise of eloquence- You have, therefore, my authority for treating with a just contempt and disdain, all those who imagine tliey have attained the whole power of eloquence, from the rules of those whom we now term Rhe- toricians, and who are unable to understand either their own character or profession. For as to an orator, all the accidents and occurrences of human life, ought to be by him examined, heard, read, discussed, handled, and managed, because human life is the scene of all his action, and the subject of all his eloquence. For elo- quence is, as it were, the highest of the human faculties. Though all virtues in their own na- ture are equally excellent, yet some of them are specifically more beautiful and striking : for in- Y 2 stance. %^ ,** [J stance, this power, which by comprehending an universal knowledge, can so explain the affections and sentiments of the mind, as to sway the hearer p at pleasure. The greater this pow er is, the more strongly does it require to be supported by probity, and the greatest good sense. For a bad man possessing eloquence, never can be called an orator; it being like putting arms into the hands of a madman. L CilAP. XV^ I Ri'PEAT it; this ability in conception and ex- pression, this energy of eloquence, was by the ancient Greeks termed ivisdom ; hence arose their Lycurgi, their Pittaci, their Solons ; and parallel to them w^re our Coruncanii, Fabricii, Catones, and Scipios, wdio, perhaps, had not so many acquired endowments, but were equal in the strength of genius, and similar in their in- clinations. The good sense of others directed them to pursue the same studies in ease and re- tirement, though with ditferent views of life. For instance, Pythagoras, Democritus, Anaxa- goras, who called off their attention from the affairs of civil polity to sul)jects of private con- tenplation, (a manner of life which is bewitch- ing to more people than is consistent with the welfare of public concerns, on account of its tranquillity and delightful knowledge) than which nothing can be more alluring to a rational being. ♦.. w " 325 beinp-. Therefore, as men of the greatest natu- ral understanding have dedicated themselves to this study, those of the greatest acquired abi- hties, blessed with excess of ease and fertility of imagination, invited by the advantages of leisure and retirement, liave thought themselves obliged to take care of, to examine, and to investigate a greater number of things than wTre necessary ; for formerly this study was adapted to be the rule both of our lives and speaking; the same teachers tauglit both. Thus, Phoenix, in Homer, says, he was ordered to attend Achilles in tlie war, by his father Peleus, that he might teach the young man both how to speak and how to act. But as people who are accustomed to constant and daily labour, when bad weather hinders them from their work, betake themselves to the ball, to the dice, or to the draughts ; or even in- vent some new diversion for themselves in their leisure hours ; tluis, those persons, when retired from public business, looked upon themselves as secluded from their labours, or indulging them- selves in a recess from business, gave themselves entirely up, some of them to the poets, some of them to the mathematics, and others to music ; and others, such as the logicians, invented a new study and amusement for themselves, and thus consumed their whole time and their life upon those arts which are already discovered, in order to form the minds of boys to good breedino' and virtue. Y 3 CHAP, /' i %^ 326 CHAP. XVI. :! liH t m JBuT, as there have been some, and those not a few, who have either made a figure in the Re- public, by the united, and, indeed, inseparable excellencies, of acting and speaking, such as Themistocles, Pericles, Theramenes, and others, •who have appeared less in public affairs, yet have professed to teach the same kind of philosophy ; such as Gorgias, Thrasymachus, Isocrates, there have been others who, though possessing learning and genius, were, in their inclinations, so averse to civil life and public business, that they have exploded and despised the practice of speaking. Socrates, who by the concurrent tes- timony of the learned, and the judgment of all Greece, undoubtedly excelled the rest of the world in good sense, quickness, gracefulness, delicacy, especially in eloquence, in variety and copiousness of expression upon every subject that he took in hand, was the principal person of that character. They who treated of, handled, and taught those points wliich we arc now exa- mining, deprived them of their common name; for till that time all the knowledge and practice of virtue was termed philosophy; but Socrates, in his discourses, made a distinction between the knowledge of thinking justly, and speaking with propriety, though they are in reality inseparable. Plato hath immortalized the genius, and different discourses ^ 327 discourses of Socrates, thouo-h Socrates himself did not leave one line in writing. Hence arose a distinction, without any difference, betwixt the tongue and the understanding, a distinction which is entirely absurd, useless, and blameable ; so that certain persons professed to teach some people to be wise, and others to be elo- quent. For, as they all arose from Socrates, whose discourses were so various, different, and universally diffused, that each learned somewhat that was different from the other: hence, sects of philosophers were propagated, widely differing among themselves, and vastly unconnected with, and unlike one another; yet all of them af- fected to be called, and thought themselves the disciples of Socrates. f . CHAP. XVII. M m For, in the first place, Aristotle and Xenocrates were the immediate scholars of Plato ; the one of which was the founder of the Peripatetics, the other of the Academics. Then, from Antis- thenes, who admired chiefly the patience and ab- stemiousness of Socrates, in his discourses, arose first the Cynics, and then the Stoics. Next from Aristippus, who was charmed with the sensual part of Socrates's discourses, the sect of the Cyrenians flowed, whose doctrines he and his successors maintained, without any disguise. J3iit as to those who now place their chief hap- Y 4 piness ■^1 ,« , ill mu 323 piness in sensual enjoyments, by affecting to act with the greatest modesty, they neither consult that decency of character, which they are far from despising, nor prove the reasonableness of those pleasures which they wish to enjoy. There were a)^o other sects of philosophers, who gene- rally professed themsehes to be the followers of Socrates; such as the Erctrici, the Herillii, the Megarici, the Pyrrhonists ; but all these have been long crushed and extinct, by the force and the disputations of the others. But, of those sects that remain, although that which has adopted pleasure to be the sole end of living, may appear with the greatest face of truth to some, yet it is vastly unsuitable to the person we are now in search of, who ought to preside in public coun. cils, who ought to be the first man in a govern- nnent, and whose sentiments and eloquence ouo-ht to be chiefly followed in the senate, before the people, aud in all public pleadings. Let us, however, respect that system of philosophy, nor withhold from its professors that end which they aim at. Permit them to repose in their own bowers, or where they please; let them loil amidst ease and delicacy ; let them dissuade us from following the rostra, the courts, the senate ; perhaps in such a government as we now live under, they may be in the right. But at present I do not examine what philosophy is the truest but what is most suitable to the character of an orator; therefore let us take our leave of thfm without insulting them ; for they are well-mean- 329 ingmen; and since they think themselves so, they are happy. I shall only take the liberty to put them in mind, that one of their greatest truest maxims, should be reserved, and, as it were, concealed as a mystery ; I mean their denying that a wise man ought to have any concern in public business; for if they could succeed so far ' as to persuade us, and other true patriots of this, it were impossible they could enjoy their belove4 tranquillity^ "\ CHAP. XVIIL As to the stoics, though I am far from condemn- ing them, yet I dismiss them without any appre- hension of their resenting it, because thev are absolutely void of all resentment: at the same time we are so far indebted to them, as that they are the only sect who admit that eloquence is virtue and wisdom. But their conceptions of both are widely different from the purposes of the orator whom we are now forming ; both because they look upon all who are not philosophically wise to be slaves, robbers, enemies, and madmen- and yet they maintain that no mants really wise. What absurdity ! that an assembly, a senate, or any body of men, should devolve their interests upon a man who believes no person present to be in his senses, to be a citizen, to be free. Add to this, that they possess a kind of eloquence which js perhaps delicate, and certainly is acute; but ii\ aa 330 an oratorical point of view, it is dry, uncouth, harsh in the ears of the public, obscure, empty, and jejune ; yet is of such a nature as is impos- sible to be adapted to common usage. For the stoics have quite different notions both of o-oorf and evil from the rest of their countrymen, and indeed from the rest of the world : they have quite different ideas of the force of honour and ignominy, of rewards and punishments. Whe- ther they are or are not in the right, is not to my present purpose ; I will only say thus much, that if we follow them, we shall never be able to make any figure in eloquence. The other sects are the Peripatetics and the Academics; which last, though they all of them go under one name, yet are divided into two opinions. For Speusippus, the son of Plato's sister ; Xenocrates, who had been the hearer of Plato ; and Crantor, differed but very inconsiderably from Aristotle, who was Plato's hearer at the same time, though they per- haps differed as to copiousness and command of expression. Arcesilas, who had been the hearer of Polemo, was the first who borrowed this lead- ing maxim from the different books of Plato, and discourses of Socrates, that neither our minds nor senses are susceptible of any thing that is certain : his character is, that he spoke with a great deal of wit ; that lie professed to despise all the judgment of the mind and senses; and that he was the first who laid it down as a rule, (though indeed that was the main point which Socrates laboured) not to discover his own real 2 sentiments, 331 sentiments, but to dispute against those of others. From him the later academy flowed, in which flourished Carneades, who was blessed with a divine quickness of understanding, and command of expression. Though I have\nown many of his hearers at Athens, yet I can praise him upon the recommendation of undoubted authorities; which are my father-in-law Sca^vola, who when he was a young man heard him at Rome ; and my friend Quintus Metellus, the son of Lucius, a person of the greatest eminence, who said that in liis youth he heard Carneades, who by that time was far advanced in years, for many days toge- ther at Athens. CHAP. XIX. From this common source of philosophy, as rivers from the Apennines, learning began now to run into different channels : philosophy disem- bogued, as it were, into the Ionian upper sea, which is Grecian, and accommodated with har- bours. Eloquence glided on to this lower, Tus- can, inhospitable, rocky, dangerous coast, on which Ulysses himself would have lost his way. If therefore we extend the character of elo- quence, and of an orator, no farther than the knowing how to plead not guilty to a charge, or the maintaining that what is charged to be done was done rightly, or ought to be laid upon ano- ther, or injuriously, or lawfully, or unlawfully, or imprudently 1 I >s/ S3f imprudently, or necessarily, or tliat the charge does not come under such or such a denomina- tion ; or the denying that it was so. or ifit was. that it was right and justiiiablc ; and if you think It sufficient that an orator shall learn "^t he rules, which have been expanded by Antony with much more elegance than they are by them ; I say if you arc contented with these qualifications, nay even with those that you want to hear from me, you reduce an orator from a very large and spa- cious field into a very narrow compass. But if you intend to be guided by old Pericles, or even by one, who from the number of his writings is niore familiar to us, I mean Demosthenes; and if you are in love with the appearance of exqui- site harmony and beauty in a perfect orator, you must be masters of the force of a Carneades, or an Aristotle. For, as I said before, the ancients, to the days of Isocrates, united the comprehen-! sion and knowledge of every thing relating to morals, life, virtue, and government, to elo- quence. After, as I have shewn, the eloquent were separated by Socrates from the learned, and afterwards all his followers, amongst philosophers despised eloquence, as orators did phil6sophy. Nor had they the least intercourse, unless that each borrowed from the other somewhat which served as a common source for both, if they in- tended to live in the old relation with one ano- ther. But as the ancient priests instituted three assistants, because of tlic number of sacrifices, though by tlie regulations of Numa they them- selves S3'i selves were to take care of the sacred banquet ; thus the followers of Socrates separated th^ peaders of causes from themselves, and philoso- phy n, general; because the ancients were of opi- nion, that a close union subsisted betwixt elo- quence and wisdom. CHAP. XX. As things stand in this manner, I will for mv own part pray for some indulgence to myself and beg that you will understand what I am about to say, not as spoken of myself, but of an orator, lor I am one of those who, from my chddhood bemg instructed with the utmost care by my father brought with me to the bar those talents which I am now conscious I possess, though they may fall short of what you maJ .magme them to be; I cannot pretend to say that I have learned what I now understand, to the same perfection as I own they ought to be I entered upon the business of a pleader very early mine and was but one and twenty years of ao-e when I impeached a man of great quality, and'of great eloquence ; therefore the forum was mv school ; practice, the laws and constitutions of the Roman people, with the precedents of our ancestors, were my instructors. When I was qu^stor m Asia, I somewhat indulged my curio- sity, for those arts I have already mentioned, and prevailed on Metrodorus the rhetorician to ac- company I no 4 I Company me from the academy, the same whom Antony has already prais.-d, and very near my equal in years. In my return from Asia I came to Athens, where I would have staid longer, had it not heen that I was piqued at the Athenians, because tliey did not repeat the celebration of their mysteries, to which I came only five days too late. Therefore all that energy, all that compass of knowledge, which I require in my own profession, so far from making for me, makes against me; (for I am not speaking what I, but what an orator can do) and renders all those empirics in the art of rhetoric ridiculous, for their writing upon the nature, the preambles and the narratives of causes ; but the power of eloquence is so great as to comprehend the rise, the force, the changes of all objects, virtues' duties, and of all nature, so tar as relates to the manners, the inclinations, and morals of man- knid. It is hers to point out customs, laws, and rights ; to govern states ; to discourse with grace- fulness and ease upon every subject. In this I am conversant, so far as my capacity, joined to a moderate share of learning and practice, can reach. Nor do I imagine that I am much infe- rior in disputation to those, who have made phi- losophy alone the study of their lives. CHAP. xxr. Can my friend C. Velleius, when he wants to prove that pleasure is the chief good, advance one argument 535 argument which I am not able to defend with more copiousness, or by means of mv practice in speakmg, (in which Velleius is but a' novice, but a 1 of us conversant) refute from those common places which Antony has laid open ? Is there a topic upon moral virtue, that S. Pompeius, or the two Balb., or my friend M. Vigellius, who lived with Pana^tius, all stoics, can maintain so as to oblige me, or any one of you, to yield to them in point of reasoning ? For philosophy is not Uke the other arts : for what can a man, who has not been taught them, do in geometry or music .? Why he must either hold his peace, or be looked upon as a madman. But as to the principles of philo- sophy, they are implanted in our nature, and whoever is endowed with quick discerning facul- ties, will perceive what is most probable and exact ; and the practice of eloquence will enable iiim to speak upon them with more graceful- ness. Here an indifferent orator, though not qmte so learned, yet if he has been used to speak, will, by means of his common practice, baffle the mere sophists, and keep himself above their con- tempt and disdain. But should one at any time " start up, who in the Aristotelian way is capable to speak upon either side of every subject, and Avho, by the assistance of well known precepts, can produce in every cause two orations, each con- tiadictory to the other; or, like Arcesilas and Carneades, can dispute against every proposition tha can be laid down ; should such a man join to these attainments, an acquaintance with rhe- toric. 3B6 tone, and a methodical practice in speaking; such a man would, in truth, be a perfect orator, and alone deserving of that name. For without the nerve of forensic eloquence an orator would want sufficient animation and authoritv ; and wliile destitute of the various stores of science, he would not be sufficiently refined and enlightened. Therefore, let us suffer Corax, like the raven, whose name he bears, to fledge his pupils with the plumes of rhetoric, and then send them abroad from his nest, as a brood of ill-boding clamorous croakers : let us leave the obscure Pamphilus to delineate, as it were in swaddling clothes, the great profession of an orator, as the sports of children ; while we are explaining, in the short con- versation we have had yesterday and to-day, that arduous province, so far as this important study is comprehended in the books of all philosophers, which have never yet been dipped into by these rhetoricians. CHAP. xxir. Savs C'atulus, by heavens! Crassus, it is not surprising that you possess such force, such sweetness, such command of eloquence : this I before attributed to your genius, and in that light you appeared not only as the greatest of orators, but the wisest of men ; but now I per- ceive you have always given the |)reference to good sense, and that all your copiousness of speaking JUL J X X / / 337 speaking flows from thence ; yet when I call id mind the diflTerent stages of your age, your life^ and your studies, I cannot comprehend how you have had time to make yourself master of these points; nor did I imagine that you were much adictedto such studies, as men and books; at the same time, I cannot determine whether it is most surprising that you could find leisure amidst your great employments for those assistances which you have convinced me are of the greatest importance, or if you have not^ that you should be ahk to discourse of them so \/elI. I was wilhng, replies Crassus, in the first place, to per- suade you, that when lam discoursing upon au orator, I do it much in the same way as I would of a player. For I will maintain, that it would be impossible for him to please the public in his action, without learning to fence and dance. At the same time, I am far from saying that is ne- cessary for me to be a player ; no, all 1 require is, that I may have some taste in arts foreign to my own profession. la like manner, wliile, at your request, I am talking of an orator, I deli- neate one that is perfect. For when we speak of any art or profession, it is always under- stood that we speak of it in its highest perfec- tion. Therefore, if you should think me an orator, a tolerable one, nay a good one, I shall admit that I am, (for it would be affectation in me to deny that I am thought so) yet even ad- mitting this, I am far from being perfect. For^ there is no profession upon earth that is more im- Z portanty ill ; HT 338 portant, more difficult, or needs more the aid of other branches. But as we now talk of an orator, we are then to understand him as finished in every excellence. For the power, the nature, the quality, and extent of any thing can never be comprehended, but by laying it open in its ut- L most perfection. As to myself, Catulus, I con- fess that at this time of life I am neither conver- sant in such writings, nor with such men. The reason, as you have rightly observed, is, because I never had leisure for studying ; and all the time 1 set aside for learning was either when a boy, or when there occurred any suspension in my busi- ness at the bar. r CHAP. XXIII. ijui, Catulus, if you demand my sentiments upon that kind of learning; I am of opinion that a man who has genius, and who is concerned in the affairs of the senate, and the forum, has no occasion for employing so much of his time upon it, as they do who spend their lives in the study of the profession. For in all arts, the manage- ment of those who apply them to practice, is (juite different from that of those who are charmed with speculations ; and considering them only as arts, spend their days in their darling amuse- ment. There is the superintendant of the Samnites ;— he is very old, yet he is every day making new observations, for he minds nothiuir else. 339 else. On the other hand Q. Velocius applied to the study of fencing only when he was a boyj and as he had genius, and was complete master of it, he % ' ^ > »-A >< t^ ,:. 345 much pleasure from our constitution, not from our reason; and in intellectual entertainments, not the ears only, but the mind much more takes disgust at a continued affectation of excel- lence. CHAP. XXVI. Therefore, while I am speaking, I chuse ra- ther to have it said, and that frequently, That is well said, than That is fine, That is charnmig ; for a too frequent repetition of that is dangerous. Yet, at the same time, I wish to hear it said, of- ten, No man can speak better : yet still the per- fection of eloquence has a deep shade, which throws its figures into the stronger relief. Ros- cius does not give all the expression which he could to this verse, The raise man demands honour, and 7iot pliin^ der, as the reward for his virtues. He remains cool, that he may come to the next. IVhat do I see ! the sword is master of the sa^ crcd seats. He here starts, stares, is astonished and con- founded. When he comes to the other verse ; Where shall Ifiyfor refuge ? How gently, how slowly, how coolly does he pro- nounce it? For it immediately introduces — Oh, ■P' w^' 346 Ohy my father ! Oh, my country ! Oh, the family of Priam ! Where the action could not be near so muck animated, if the actor liad been spent and ex- hausted in pronouncing the hne before. The poets were as soon sensible of this as the actors : in short, the musicians were as sensible of it as eitlier of them. For all these have their low strains, then they rise, they swell, they sink again, they diversify, they distinguish. Thus Jet our orator, who aims at gracefulness and sweetness, attain a sweetness that is manly and solid; and not cloying and fritted; it is then im- possible he should miss of being agreeable. For the rules with regard to gracefulness may be dis- played by an orator exceedingly faulty : but as I said before, he must lay up a magazine of mate- rials, both with regard to subject and sentiments ; this is a part to which Antony has spoken alrea- dy. These are to be moulded in a style, to be illumined wiili a diction, and enriched with sen- timents, corresponding to the character of the oration. But it io the highest praise of elotjuence so to amplify and adorn, as to strengthen your cause ; this is of use, not only when any thing is to be exaggerated or extolled, but in cases where vou arc to extenuate and sink. CHAP. i. " J V 347 ''V r •< I ^ "-f ^ . CHAP, xxvir. This is required in all those topics which An- tony observed are^to be applied for the purpose of convincing ; either when we are explaining any point, or when we are conciliating favour, or raising resentment : but in the last case am- plification is of the greatest efficacy; and indeed is the characteristical excellency of eloquence* That practice too of praising or dispraising, which Antony explained in the end of his dis- course, though he rejected it in the beginning, is of great consequence. For nothing can con- tribute more to exaggerate or amplify a speech, than to be able to dispose of both these to the best advantage. Those topics follow next which are proper to the bar, and which ought to be in- separable from the nerves of pleading, yet be- cause they used to treat of general beads, they were by the ancients called common. Some of these consist in pointed, exaggerating invectives, or complaints against vices and crimes ; such as embezzlements, treason, or parricide, crimes which cannot be defended. These topics are to be used after the facts have been established, otherwise they are dry and trifling. Others of these topics consist in deprecation and pity ; others of them in doubtful disputes, where there is a fair field of speaking on both sides on gene- ral h^ads. This practice is now appropriated to the two philosophies I have already noticed ; with 348 with the ancients it belonged to those who were consulted upon the whole method and practice of pleading at the bar. For as to what regards virtue, duty, right, and equity, dignity, utility, honour, disgrace, rewards, punishments, and the like matters, we ought to have strength and art sufficient to speak upon them in every shape. But as we are disinherited of our estate, we are left in the possession of a little litigious tenement ; and though we profess to be the champions of other people's rights, we are incapable to secure, or vin- dicate our own ; and, to complete our shame, we must have recourse for what we stand in need of to these invaders of our property. CHAP. XXVIII. TuBi gentlemen who, from a small district of Athens, obtained the name of peripatetic, or aca- demic philosophers ; but who were formerly styled political philosophers, a general appellation they obtained on account of their being eminent- ly versed in the most important subjects, and universal politics: thej^, I say, maintain that all political discourses \urn upon one or other of the following kinds; either w^hen the dispute is hounded by particular times and parties; for in- stance, Is it your pleasure that an exchange of prisoners be made witu the Carthaginians ? Or the question is indefinite and general ; thus, ff hat arc the sentiments which you arc most de- 3 sirous $- 1 1# ..I. 4 :^ ^ * V • - 349 sirous to lay down xvith regard to a captive ? The first of these kinds they term a pica, uv a dis- pute, which they confine to three points, a suit, a debate, and 2ipenegyric: but as to the other ques- tion, which is indefinite, and, as it were, a point of speculation, that is termed a consultation : Thus far do they go. In their lectures they in- deed make use of this division ; but they do not claim it as their right or privilege, or if they meant to recover the inheritance they have lost, but as if their design was to intrude upon the ci- vil law. For they have, as it were, bj' stealth, come at the other kind, w^hich is circumscribed by times, places, and persons. At present, Philo, w^ho I understand to be the chief man of the academy, professes to understand, and practises in, sucn causes. As to the other kind, they men- tion it as being the only proper subject of the first art, and belonging to the orator : but they neither lay down its force, its nature, its parts, nor heads ; so that it had been much better for them to have entirely omitted it, than to have attempted it, and then to have forsaken it. For now the world looks upon their silence as the efl^ects of their ignorance ; whereas otherwise it might have been deemed as the result of their choice. CHAP. XXIX. Every subject therefore that is a matter of en- quiry, is handled in the same manner, whether it 4' 350 k is an indefinite proposition, or adapted to a pkaciaig m the court or tlie forum ; nor is there any one subject but what must turn upon specu- lation or practice. For a proposition must either turn upon the knowledge of, and acquaiptance with, the nature of a subject; as for instance the following, IVhether x-irtue is desirable for its vxvn excellence, or for certain advantages at- tending it ? or upon a prudential consideration, such as the following, Jtlicther a wise man ought to undertake the affairs of government ? In subjects of speculation there are three modes re- quisite, conjecture, definition, and what we may call consequence. For should a man ask, IVhe- ther there is such a thing as knorcled^e amonost mankind ? that is a conjectural proposition. If v/e were to enquire, JVJiat is wisdom ? we must answer by a definition. Were we to enquire, Ulieiher it is consistent with the character of a good man to tell a lye ? we must then argue from consequences. They then return to conjec- ture, which they divide into four heads. The first, as it considers the inherent properties of any thing. Thus in the following proposition, Whether the laws of society are founded upon nature, or upon opinion? The next head of conjecture, relates the foundation of any thing; such as laxvs and government : the next regards the cause and reason of any thing ; for instance, ^f % do the most learned men differ upon the most important subjects? The last head con- sists in immutation; for instance, IVhether vir- tue 1 i 1 4. u, I 'r-^ > A 351 tue can die in a man, or whether it may not pos- sibly be converted into vice f The modes of ^ and FEAR, KING a7ld TYRANT, COMPLAISANCE and FRIENDSHIP, are words of the same import* The other mode consists in examining what is most ehgible ; for instance, Jfliether wise vien delight most in the praise of the opulent jexv, or of the multitude ? And all the modes regard- ing speculative knowledge are generally laid down by the most learned men in the same manner. CHAP. XXX. As to what regards practice, it turns either upon an enquiry into the nature of a duty, under what head it is to be classed, or what is right to be done, or whether such a thing ought to be done at all ? This is a topic, w^hich comprehends all the branches of virtue and vice. It turns upon the management of the passions, when and how they are to be moved, awakened, composed, or roused. This kind includes advices, threats, consolations, complaints, and every spring that inspires or allays the passions of the mind. Hav- ing thus explained the kinds and the modes of these discussions, give me leave to observe, that though there may be some small difference be- twixt that divisionof Antony and mine, yet they are in tlic main the same ; for both our disquisi- tions r i 4 3SS tions consist of the same members, although a lit- tle differently arranged. Now I will proceed to the rest, and confine myself to the task imposed on me. For all proofs, upon all kinds of ques- tions that can arise, are to be taken from those topics which Antony has laid down ; but certain topics are best adapted to certain kinds. It is needless to speak any thing upon this subject, not because it is too tedious, but because it is sufficiently evident. Those speeclies, therefore, ar I, 382 Jables,** or of tlirce short, and one long syllable/ Our philosopher recommends that we begin with the former of these peons, and conclude with the latter, which is not determined by the number of syllables, but by the more accurate and exact judgment of the ear : this measure is equal al- most to the cretiais, which consists of a long, a short, and a long syllable. Tannius, by setting out in this measure, thought it more proper, than the stops with which long syllables are generally terminated* CHAP. XLVIII. Ihtt in using these quantities we are not sd strictly limited to measure as poets are, who are obliged to be exact both in their numbers and versification, so that there must not be a syllable either longer or shorter than what the rules of prosody prescribe. Prose is more free, and in plain ^ The author here giTes examples of this %urc, as defi^, nifcy incipite^ compromite ; but as these are given only for their measure, and not their meaning, we have not thought proper to translate them. ' Doviuerant tonipedes. Orig. * Our author gives an instance of this measure in a Latia line : Quidpolam presidi^ aul exequar ? Quote nunc ; and tells us that Fannius set out with this measure in the fol- lowing words. Si quiriies minas illius. Ilk in the original may mean Aristotle. S83 plain terms it is, as it is called^ an unconfined style, but without looseness and rambling, for it regulates itself without constraint. For I think with Theophrastus, that a finished, polished style, ought not to have a regular, but a flowing harmony of periods. He is likewise of opinion that the Anapestus was composed out of those measures that make up the heroic, as being of a more unconfined nature ; that this was followed by the dithyrambus, which is more free and luxu- riant still, its quantities and measures being dif- fused through all florid styles. And if, in every modulation of voice, in all cadences of periods, harmony consists in certain eflPects they have upon the ear, and a well-timed measure betw^ixt every stop, the true excellency of a prose style lies in rightly judging this measure, and taking care that it have no regular returns that may tire the ear. For if an everlasting flowing prate, without stop, without pauses, is disagreeable in all respects, what is the reason, but because the ear modulates the voice, which can have no harmo- ny if it keeps no time. But there is no time where there are no stops. The intermission and striking of sounds, either at equal or unequal in- tervals, make time. We may observe time in water falling drop by drop, but cannot in a rolling river. If style, therefore, considered as a fluxion of words, is much more proper and agree- able when marked by stops and periods ; it is plain that its members ought to be under some regulation. If the close of a period is quick and short, i: r It } V 384 short, it spoils its roundness; for so the Greeks term the turn of a style. Therefore the syllables at the close of a period, should be equal to the foregoing, and these to what preceded them ; or else what is much better and more musical, they ought to be longer. CHAP. XLIX, Such, Catulus, are the precepts of your favou* rite philosophers, whom I often quote, that I may under their sanction avoid the imputation of tri- fling. How so, replied Catulus, do you imagine then that you could have brought any thing into your discourse that is more elegant or more deli- cate ? But, answers Crassus, I am afraid that these young gentlemen will fancy it more diffi- cult than it really is ; or because I have not de- livered it in the common terms, that I affect to make it seem important and difficult. You are mistaken, Crassus, said Catulus again, if you imagined that either I, or any of this company, expected from you any thing trite or common. You have spoken on tlic very points we wished to hear from you ; and your manner is still more agreeable than your matter; this I boldly pro- nounce, not only for myself, but in the name of all present. For my part, says Antony, I recant Avhat I advanced in my dissertation, that no man can be eloquent ; for I have now found such a man. But I do not intend to divert you in the short S%5 short time you have for finishing your discourse, «or shall one word of mine, even in your praise,' misemploy it. You must therefore, resumed Crassus, be regulated by this standard, uniting practismg in speaking and writing, which gives perfection and polish to many other attainments, but especially to eloquence. But this is no such miglity task as it appears, for you are not bound down to the rigid laws of poetry and music ; all you liave to do is to take care that your style be neither loose nor rambling ; that it be neither abrupt nor diffusive ; that its members be distin- guished, and the periods well rounded : nor are we always to indulge in a lengthened flow of sen- tences, but should curtail the clauses, and give our sentiments a pointed brevity, cemented ne- vertheless in harmonious numbers. Do not be startled at the peon, or the hexameters I have mentioned; you will naturally fall into them, they will present, they will offer themselves to your service, if, while you practise speaking and writing, you close your periods v/ith verbs, and these verbs are compounded of free, easy mea- sures, such as the heroic, the first peon, or the ere- tkus ; but the close ought still to be varied and diversified, for it is there that the sameness is chiefly observable ; and if the first and the last feet are regulated by this rule, the intervening will pass unobserved; but care must still be taken that the period does not too frequently re- turn, or be protracted beyond what the breath and the strength of the lungs will admit of. Cc CHAP, If M 99K CHAP, L. But it is my opinion tliat you ought, above all things, to pay particular attention to the close of your sentences, for in these we chiefly judge of the polish and perfection of style. In composing verses, an error in the beginning, in the mi(hlle, and in the end, is equally perceptible ; and it shocks wherever the blunder lies; but in prose, very few mind the beginning, but most people the end of a period; and these, because they are most striking and best understood, must be varied, lest either the judgment be oflended or the ear satiated. For the two or three last feet are to be observed and marked, provided the foregoing were not short and quick, for they ought to be either choriav, heroic, or alternate, or of the last kind of peo//, which is approved of by Aristotle; or the creticus, which is equal to that. When these are skilfully diversified, the ear of the hearer is neither cloyed by sa77ienes6\ nor does it seem to have cost any trouble to the; speaker. But if Antipater of Sidot), whom you, Catulus, well knew, was accustomed to pour forth unpremeditated hexameter, and other verses, in a variety of measures ; and if practice so much improved a man of his great genius and memory, who was no sooner in a humour to versify, than words followed of course, how much more easy 18 it for us to attain the same end in prose by use and practice ? But if any one should be surprised that I 387 that these things are discerned and marked by the most vulgar hearer ; he needs but only reflect how great and surprising the force of nature is in every thing, especially in this ; for every man has within hini a certain tacit sense, which enables him to distinguish what is right or wrong in the arts and sciences, and this without instruction or information. If this observation holds good with regard to pictures, statues, and other works, in criticising which, they have less assistances from nature, it is much more e\ident in the judg- ment they form of words, harmony, and delivery, because this is a judgment implanted in the senses that are common to all mankind : it is a faculty of which nature never meant any rational creature to be absolutely destitute. Therefore people are not only moved by a judicious dispo- sition of words, but even with their harmony and sounds. For how few are judges of number and measures, yet we see, on the least slip in quantity, the whole theatre resounding with the hisses of the audience. Will not then the same thing happen with regard to words, so that they may not only in a period and a sentence be disagree- able to the people, not only in a body but sepa- rately ? CHAP. LL It is surprising there should be so great a differ- ence in the talents of the learned and unlearned, C c 2 and I H 1' t !' |! 388 and yet so little in those required to judge of both; for art, which is but the offspring of na- ture, appears ineffectual, unless she touches and delights nature; but nothing harmonizes so much with our intellectual faculties as sounds; by them we rise, we kindle, then sink and Ian- guish ; they often put us in a cheerful, and often in a melancholy mood ; their wonderful magic is best adapted to verses and odes ; therefore I ima- gine our learned Prince Numa, and our ancestors, were sensible of this, as appears by the musical in- struments introduced in the solemn banquets^ and the verses of the Salii : but they were chiefly used in ancient Greece, and I wish you had chosen that my discourse had turned upon these, and such other subjects, rather than upon the metaphorical use of words : but as the common people can perceive a fault in the quantity of a verse ; so they are sensible when there is a lame- ness in prose ; but they never pardon the poet, though they indulge us ; yet all of them secretly perceive that there is a defect in that propriety and perfection we have mentioned. Therefore the ancients, as we see some now-a-days, when they were unable to complete the roundness, and, as it were, the sweep, of a period, a thing that we have lately either eff'ected or attempted, have supplied it with three words, or two, and some with one; and in the infancy of civilization, by pleasing the ear in its demand, this answered their * purpose, which was, to have words i^' their pe- riods 389 hods respondent to, and at equal pauses from, one another. CHAP, LIL Thus 1 have, as well as I am capable, explained w^hatever belongs to the ornaments of style ; for I have considered the propriety of words by them- selves, as forming a period, and as forming it with gravity and harmony. But if I am to speak as to the drapery, or the colouring of speech ; that ought to be full, but terse; it ought to be delicate, yet lively and strong; and such as to possess a moderate share of excellence in both kinds. These three characters should display a colouring, resembling not the tinsel of arr, but the flush of nature. Then, our orator is to be furnished both as to words and sentiments, in the same manner as a fencing-master instructs his scholars, not only how to give or pirry a thrust, but how to move with graceful attitudes. Com- position and gracefulness of style consist in words, but its majesty and dignity in sentiments. The changes that may be made in words and senti- ments are almost infinite : this I know you are suflSciently apprized of; but there is this diff'er- ence in the construction of words and sentiments, that the former is destroyed by not preserving the identical words, but the beauty of sentences will remain the same in whatever language they are cloathed. Though you practise this, yet I C c 3 thmk MMiliMM^^#^^t^ * i H 'J S90 think fit to put you in mind of it, lest you shouM imagine that an orator has any thing else to do, at least, any thing that can produce a hcautifnl and surprising effect, than to observe three things with regard to each particular word : to use me- taphorical words frequently, invented words oc- casionally, but antiquated words seldom. But in the thread of a discourse, after we have studied smoothness and harmony, as abovementioned, the whole is to be illuminated with splendid dic- tion and noble sentiments. Chap, liii. For the figuie by which rve dwell upon one sub- jccth of great efficacy, as is a perspicuous illus- tration, and a lively representation of facts in the manner in which they happened. This is very serviceable, first in representing an affair, then in illustrating that representation; and next, in heightening it, so tliat to our hearers we render the subject as ample as it is in the j)ower of words to make it. Opposite to this figure is precision, which hints rather than fully explains your meaning; as is likewise brevilr,, in which consist perspicuity and conciseness, together with ee- tenuation and allusion, which coincides with Ce- sar's rules. Then comes iligrcssion, which, as it IS delightful, your resuming your subject ought to be j.roper and agreeable ; then follows the pro- position of wjiat you are to speak to ; then its dis^ junction 391 junction from what hath been already said ; then you return to what you proposed ; then you re- capitulate ; then you draxo, from the premises^ your conclusion ; then you enhance or evade the truth, according as your intention is to exagge- rate or extenuate; then you examine, and, what is very near a-kin to examination, you expostu- late and answer upon your own principles « then succeeds that bewitching figure irony, by which a different thing is understood from what is ex- pressed, a figure tliat has the most agreeable ef- fects in a discourse, when introduced, not by way of argument, but entertainment ; then comes dubiiation; then distribution; then the cwrec- tion of what you liave either said, or are to say ; or when you are to repel any thing from your- self. Premunition regards the point you at- tempt to prove ; then there is tlirouing the blame upon another; then there is communication, which is a kind of deliberation with those to whom you speak ; then there is the imitation of morals" and life, either when you name or con- ceal the characters they belong to ; this greatly embellishes a speech, and is chiefly calculated for conciliating the favour, but often for moving the passions of the audience. Then follows an imagi- nary induction of real ])ersons, which is, perhaps, the most dignified splendor which amplification can impart; then description; then the induction of a mistake ; the impulsion to cheerfulness ; then prepossession ; together with those two figures that have so strong an effect, I mean comparison " C c 4 ^"'^ . 'i; a ' 30'2 and example; then comes wiraveUing, interrup- tion, sfrahih/g, suppression of xchat you insinu- ' ate you know, commendation ; a more free, and even unbridled style when you want to exagge- rate, and to give an emphasis to vour expression • then comes anger, chiding, promising, deprecat- ing, beseeching, a short deviation from your sub- ject but not of the same nature with digression, which I have already mentioned ; then apologis- ing, conciliating, blaming, wishing, and execrat- ing. It IS chiefly by these figures that sentiments give beauty to eloquence. CflAP. LIV, As to the figures of style, they serve as in the case of fencing, either to shew how well the mas- ter can aim ; and, as it were, fetch a blow: or how gracefully he can Iiandle his weapons. For the repetition of a word sometimes gives force to a style, at other times it shews wit, as does a small variation or alteration in a word. A frequent re- petition of the same word from the beginnino- or the resuming it in the close of a speech; the giving force to words, and then makin- the same words meet, adjoin and proceed together with putting a certain mark of distinction upon a particular word which you often resume; Ld those which have the like terminations, and the hke cadences ; those which form tlie respondent parts of a period, and hav« a mutual relation to one h 393 one another. There is likewise a certain grada^^ fion and conxcrsioii, with a well-judged trans^ position of words ; there is then their oppodtion, and detachment from one another, by throwing out conjunctive particles ; then evasion, repre- hension, e.vclamation, diminution; and what is placed in many cases; and what is drawn from particular propositions and applied to particular subjects ; and the method of laying doum a pro- position, together with subdividing it into several parts, and concessiofi, and another kind of doubt- ing and surprise, and enwnerating, and another correction, and dissipating, continuity, and in- terruption, and representation, and answering one's self, and immutation and disjunction, and order and relation, and digression and precision. These, or the like, perhaps there may be more, are the fio-ures that illustrate the sentiments and the style of a speech. CHAP. LV. I PERCEIVE, said Cotta, that you have poured forth those points without definitions, and with- out examples, besause you imagine that we are acquainted with them. For my part, said Cras- sus, I did not imagine that any thing I have spoken of is unknown to you, all I meant was "to comply with your orders. But I see by the declining sun, that I ought to be short upon those heads. He will speedily set, and accordingly 1 g have n I' 1 I 391 have hurried over these things with speed. But the explanation and rules relating to this kind are m common use; though the application of them IS very important, and the most difficult part "1 all the practice of eloquence. Therefore as to the embellishments of style, if they are not all of them laid open, yet at least the topics from which they are borrowed have been pointed out. Novv let us consider propriety, |,y which I mean gracejulnes, of style. Tiiere is no general rule tor this; tor one kind of style cannot agree with every cause, every hearer, every character, everv juncture ; nothing is more evident than that ca- pital actions must be discussed in a languape dif. ierent from tliose we use in private and triflin^ cases; debates, panegjrics, trials, discourses! consolations, reprimands, disputation, and histo- ty\ require each a different style. Wc ought like- wise to regard tiic character of those before whom WT speak, whether it be in the senate house, or before the people, in a court of justice; whether to a crowded, or a thin audience, or to one per- son ; we ought likewise to haNC some regard to our own age. our rank and character, and like- wise to the juncture in wliicli we speak, whether It be in the time of peace or war, of hurry or leisure. Therefore we can lay down no general rule upon this hea.l, but, as it suits the different occasions, to employ the three different styles- we have mentione.l, the full, the slender, and'the' middling, and to make a judicious use of almost the same ornaments. In short, tlie utmost ef- forts. 395 forts of art and nature consist in our being able to judge of, and to do what is most becoming our character and the occasion. CHAP. LVI. But the effect of all those particulars depends upon the actioti. Action is the predominant power in eloc]uencc. Without it the best speaker can have no name, and with it a middling one may obtam the highest. It is said that Demos- thenes, when asked what was the first consti- tuent in eloquence, he answered, action was the first, the second, and the third. This makes the story told by ^Eschines much better: after he had lost a cause, he retired in disgrace from Athens to Rhodes, where, at the request of the Khodians, he read tliat fine oration, which he pronounced against Ctesiphon, who was defend- ed by Demosthenes : after he had finished it, he was requested next day to read that which was pronounced by Demosthenes for Ctesiphon; which he did with a charming full voice. When every body was expressing their applause. How xcould you have applauded, says he, if you had heard the author himself deliver it ? By this he intimated what a vast influence actio7i had, since the change of the actor could make the same ^peech ap|;e:ir in a quite different light. What was it, CaiuUis, wliich, as you well remember, so tfiuch distinguished Gracchus, and which, when a bov, ^v /' , n 396 i boy, r heard so much extolled, /rretch that I am, zchither shall I retreat ? JVhither shall I turn me ? To the Capitol ? The Capitol streams with my brother's blood. To my fami- ly f There must I see a -wretched, a mournful and afflicted 7nother ? It appears that those words were accompanied with such expression in his eyes, in his voice, and his gesture, that even his enemies could not refrain from tears. I have been the longer on this head, because it has been wholly neglected by orators, who are the actors of truth, and taken up by players, who are but its mimics. CHAP. LVII. Yet, doubtless, in all cases, truth has the advan- tage of imitation; but if in action nature were sufficient for our purpose, we should have no oc- casion for having recourse to the rules of art. But since the passions of the soul, which are to be chiefly expressed or represented by action, are often so confused, as to be quite obscured and almost obliterated ; the causes of this obscurity must be dispelled, and advantages must be taken of those that arc most unclouded and accessible. For nature has given every passion its peculiar expression in the look, the voice, and the ges- ture; and the whole frame, the look, and\he voice of a man are responsive to the passions of the mind, as the strings of a musical instrument are 397 are to the fingers that touch them. For as a mu- sical instrument has its different keys, so every voice is sharp, full, quick, slow, loud, or low, and each of these keys have different degrees ; which beget other strains, such as the smooth and the sharp, the contracted and lengthened the continued and interrupted, the broken and divided, the tender, the shrill and the swellmg ; all these require to be managed with art and dis- cretion And the orator makes use ot them, as the painter does of his colours, to give variety to his piece. CHAP. LVII I. Anger has a peculiar pronunciation, which is quick, sharp, and broken. My bloody brother gives mc his adricc To tear my tender children with my teeth. O what a cursed wretch must 1 be then J tike that Antony, which you mentioned. Durst you part with him ? And the following: All ! mark you this ; quick ! bindJiim : And so of almost the whole tragedy of Atreus. _ The tone of pity and grief is different ; it is full, moving, broken, and mournful. Where shall 1 turn me J Whither shall I fly ? To my paternal scat, or Pelia*' daughters . And i '-ill ■ I 558 And in the verse already mentioned - O my father I O my country ! O the house of Priam ! And the following : AH is in a blaze, And Priam lies a lifeless corpse on land ; I ^w it. Fear is low, diffident, and humble: With what variety of wretchedness Am I surrounded ! sickness, exile, want! Then fear drives resolution from my breast. And death in tortures borers o'er my head ! Where is the breast so steei'd, the heart so brave, But melts and trembles at the dreadful prospect/ Vehemence demands a strain tliat is intense, strong, and majestically threatening. Thus— Again Tii TESTES to my bed approaches, ' And wakes me from my slumber ; Alas ! a mightier weight of woe must crush me ; I have a draught more bitter still to drink ; ' Could I pluck out his heart, and rend its strin^-s Pleasure is diffusive, soft, tender, cheerful and gay : But when tome the nuptial crown he brought. And seem'd to give it to another's hand ; How gay, how rharmin*;:, was the wanton boy ? Ifow didjiis dandling steal my heart away. Uneasiness is of another sort, it is oppressive witliout commisseration, and its tone is grave an^ uniform : When in unhallow'd nuptials Helen gave Her hand to Paris ; then my bearing time Was near completed; then the Queen of Priam Gave to the world her darling Polydore. CHAP. •V \ $99 V * .' CHAP. LIX. But all these emotions ought to be accompanie4 with action; not theatrical action, limited to par- ticular words, but extended to the whole dis- course; aiding the sense, not by pointing, but by emphasis, a strong manly action, borrowed from the use of arms, or the school of arts, and not from stage performers. The hand ought not to saw the air, and the fingers in moving should follow the words, and not precede, a1 Jt were, to point them out. The arm ought to be stretched forward, as if to brandish the bolts of eloquence ; and the stamping the foot ought to take place, either in the beginning or the end of a debate. But all depends ujjon the face, and all the power of the face is centered in the eyes. This our old men are the best judges of; for they were not lavish of their applause, even to Roscius when he was in a mask. All action de- pends upon the passions, of which the face is the picture, and the eyes the interpreters. For this is the only part of the body that can express all the passions ; nor can any one who looks ano- ther way create the same emotions. Theophras- tus used to apply to one Tauriscus, who averted his face from the audience when he was repeatino- his part, the epithet aversus. Therefore a great deal consists in the right management of the eyc«, for the features of the face ought not to be al- tered too much, lest we become ridiculous or dis- 3 gustful. h V:. 400 gustful. It IS by the vividness, or the languor of the eye, by a dejected, or a cheerful look, that we express the emotions of the heart, and accom- modate what we say, to what we feel. Action is, as it were, the language of the body, and there- fore ought to correspond to the thought. For Nature, as she has supplied the horse and the lion with a mane, a tail, and ears, to express their feehngs, has endowed the eyes of mankind with the same properties, Therefore in the ac- tion of an orator, the look takes place next to the voice, for the eyes direct the features. But na- ture has given a particular force to all the modi- fications of action; therefore we see it has great eifect upon the ignorant, the vulgar, and the greatest upon foreigners who are unacquaint- ed with our tongue. M'ords affect none but him Avho understands the language ; and sentiments that arc pointed, often escape the undiscerning. But an action expressive of the passions of the mind, is a language universally understood ; for the same expressions have the same effects in all circumstances, and all men know them in others by tlie same characters which express them in themselves. CHAP. LX, But the chief excellence to be admired in a good delivery, is a fine voice. If an orator possess not a good voice, it ought, such as it is, to be im- proved. I shall not here point out in wliat man- ner m- # 401 i ^ I /K tierthe voice becomes susceptible of improve- ment ; but I think it of great importance that the means of improving it should be cultivated. But the train of my discourse leads me to repeat the observation I made a little while aw, that what is most useful is most becoming; I know not how this happens, but it is certain that in speaking nothing tends more to acquire an agree- able voice, than frequently to relax it, by passing from one strain to another, and ngthing tends more to injure it than violent exertion unrelieved by modulation. What gives greater pleasure to our ears, and more charms to delivery, than judi- cious transitions, variety, and change ? There- fore, Catulus, you might have heard from Licinius, who is your client, a man of learning, and the secretary of Gracchus, that Gracchus made use of an ivory flute, which a man who stood privately behind him, while he was speaking, touched so skilfully, that he immediately struck the proper note, when he wanted either to quick- en or to soften the vehemence of his voice. I have heard him tell it, replied Catulus, and I of- ten admired the application, the learning, and the knowledge of the man. For my part, says Cras- sus, 1 am grieved at the misfortunes of those great men, and yet I see the same political game renewed, the same dissolute manners advancins: on the state, to convince posterity that we de- sire to encourage citizens in crimes which were intolerable to our forefathers. Leave, Crassus, J priiy yoti, says Julius, these reflections, and re- D d turn 1 I .1 t ff # «w turn to Criacchu.^'s flute, the nature of which I do not yet thoroughly understand. CHAP. LXf. In every modulation of voice, replied Crassus, there is a mean peculiar to itself. The gradual rising of the notes from this hase is both proper and pleasing, but to set out with bawling has something in it very clownish, and is as hurtful to the voice, as the other jncthod is salutary. In short, there is a certain strainino- to which the ute will not suffer you to rise, but bring you down to the proper note ; and there is somev/hat in the lowering the voice, which on the other hand is very grave, but must sink through all the several degrees of the scale. This variety, and this progression through all the tones will both preserve the voice, and give a sweetness to the action. As to the flute, you may leave it at home, but the spirit of such a practice you ought to carry to the l)ar. I have, as far as the time would allow, to the best of my abilities, which fall short of my incli- nation to serve you, delivered my sentiments on this subject : for it is a convenient excuse to lay the fault on the time when we have nothincr far, ther to add. lor my part, replies Catulus, your discourse has been so truly excellent, that to mc you seem not to have been a scliolar of the Greeks, but capable of being their teacher, and I rejoice 403 rejoice that I am one of this company. I only wish your companion, and my son-in-law Hor- tensius had been of the party. I hope that one day he will attain all those charms of eloquence you have so well described. He will be^ answers Crassus, give me leave to say he is so already ; and I thought so when he pleaded the cause of th^ Africans in the senate while I was consul ; and my good opinion of him was increased by his late oration in favour of the King of Bithynia. For which reason, Catulus, your hope is w^ell- founded respecting him; for I am of opinion that nothing which either genius or learning can communicate, is w^anting in that young orator. This, Cotta and Sulpicius, ought to render 3^011 the more vigilant and active, since before he had reached your age he has exhibited unusual pow- ers of oratory ; his parts are quick, his applica- tion indefatigable, his learning eminent, and his memory excellent. 1 love him much, and wish that he may excel all those of his own age : but it will hardly be decorous, if he should out-strip those who so far surpass him in years. But let us now, adds he, rise, and, by relaxing, relieve our minds from the severity of this conversation. FINIS. % BOOKS rRIXTED FOR LACKINGTON, ALLEN, AND CO. ' *\vnnl^'l^'^^l! TRANSLATION OF CICERO'S rirh'p'o c^^E^'i^.^r'l ""'f°™ly P"n'<^'', in octavo. CICLRO'S FAMILIAR LETTERS to hU friends, with remarks, by Melmoth, 3 »ols. il. is ' CICERO'S ESSAYS ON OLD AGE AND FRIEND. billF, translated by Melmoth, 8vo. 8^ CICERO ON ORATORY AND ORATORS, translated by (Tiitlirie, and amcHdcd hy Jones, 2 vols 8vo • ''u''''t''l "V^"'"^ ™ ^'^'TICUS, Translated orJ. gnially by Guthrie, with notes, historical, critical and explanatory : a new edition, revised, corrected, and amended by Jones, 3 vols. ll. is CICERO'S ORATIONS, by Guthrie, corrected and improved, 2 vols. 1 8s, *;'JCERO'S LIFE, by Dr. Middleton, 3 vols. il. 48. * l>nTATrnv.''f'''f '-'• "^'^^f^^, TUSCULAN DIS- * 1 UlAllUiNS, kc. Sec. are preparins; for the press - !^ Y^^ACE ROUND TilK U OKLD,in the yearn 785-8, by La Peyrouse ; a new edition, in 3 vols. 8vo. and a folio atlas of beautiful plates, engraved by Heath, 21. 2s. ^•.yPV^^^ ^^^' SEARCH OF LA PEVROUSE, by La. billardiore, m the years 1 791-4, in continuation to the above, with 46 fine plates, 2 vols. 8vo. l-is. 4. 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Preparingfort/ie Press^ in six volumes octavo, WARTON'S HISTORY OF ENGLISH POETRY edited by Mr. Park ; in v^iiich it is not only intended to re! vise both Text and Notes, and free the Extracts from the charge of inaccuracy, to which they have been justly subjected, but also to supply a Continuation in furtherance oi Mr \Varton*s plan. WRIGUr, Pantcr, No. 38, bt. J»iiu'*.Siutrp, ^•lkcn^*•ll. . •/ ■^ ■V! COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARY i ■ .-. i'.fc ■ TV^; ' ire on the dato ^"nd'r-"' ' V DATE DUE jiil£f g A Lr wUlwo v" v; " "NIDV ' ~ .' ^' tfij r' . 'm [fiF^ 4 iK- w > r\t ATr 201-6503 Printed in USA "" COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRAmES 002107431 I I S7CT^3 rr\ n oc <— i CiT 9 > LU o O h- l«-l »— • 00 -^ u i .^ il SEP 6 .ISP ^tmmn^^^*^^ .--:' ..,"■'.! iV*'-' Columbii iinitJe dp mtI)eCitPoflIfU)Di.rk LIBRARY it CICERO ON ' ORATORY AND ORATORS. WITS NOTES HISTORICAL AND EXPLANATORY. A NEW EDITION, CAREFULLY REVISED AND CORRECT £D, IN TWO VOLUMES, VOL. II. LONDON : PRINTED TOk J. AND J. RICHARDSON; F. C. AND J. RIVINGTON; W, OTRIDGE AND SON; J. WALKER; R. LEA ; J. NUNN; CUTHELL AND martin; LACKINGTON, ALLEN, AND CO.; DARTON AND HaRVEY ; LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME; VERNOR, HOOD, AND SHARPI ; cadell and davies; j. murray; j, booker; and 7. asperke« 1808. t - *# K • # •^ €1 c^^ 'V wniG!rr, Frintcr, St. John's Sqsirr. PREFACE. jtYS the following rhetorical pieces have never appeared before in the English lan- guage, I thought a translation of them would be no unacceptable oftering to the public. The character of the author {Marcus Tullius Cicero) is so universally celebrated, that it would be needless, and indeed impertinent, to say any thing to recommend them. The first of them was the fruit of his retirement, durino; there- mains of the civil war in Africa ; and was composed in the form of a dia- logue. It contains a few short, but very masterly sketches of all the speakers who had flourished either in Greece or Rome, with aay reputation of eloquence, down to ''-> o. o i (. Vd VI to his own time; and as he generally touches the principal incidents of their lives, it will be considered by an atten- tive reader, as a concealed epitome of the Ionian histori). The conference is sup- posed to have been held with Atticus, and their common friend Brutus, in Cicero's garden at Rome, under the statue of Plato, whom he always admired, and usually imitated in his dialogues ; and he seems in this to have copied even his double titles^ calling it Brutus^ or the Histori/ of famous Orators. It was intend- ed as a supplement^ or fourth book^ to three former ones, on the qualifications of an orator. The second, which is entitled The Orator, was composed a very short time afterwards (both of them in the 6lst year of his age) and at the request of Brutus. It contains a plan, or critical delineation of what he himself esteemed the most finished eloquence, or style of speaking. He calls it The Fifth Part, or vii / for iBooA:,, (Resigned tp;pQmplete his BrutuSy and the former thru op the same subject. It was received with great approba- tion ; and in a letter to Lepta, who had complimented him upon it, he declares, that whatever judgment he had in speak- ing, he had thrown it all into that work, and was content to risk his reputation on the merit of it. But it is particularly recommended to our curiosity, by a more exact account of the rhetorical com- position, or prosaic harmony of the ancients, than is to be met with in any other part of his works. As to the present transla- tion, I must leave the merit of it to be decided by the public ; and have only to observe, that though I have not, to my knowledge, omitted a single sentence of the original, I was obliged, in some places, to paraphrase my author, to ren- der his meaning intelligible to a modern reader. My chief aim was to be clear and perspicuous : if I have succeeded in that via thaty it is all I pretend to. I must leave it to abler pens to copy the eloquence of Cicero. Mine is unequal to the task. BRUTUS 5 OR THE HISTORY OF ELOQUENCE, When I had left Cilicia, and arrived at Rhodes, word was brought me of the death of Hortensius. I was more affected with it than, I behevc, was generally expected. For, by the loss of my friend, I saw myself for ever de- prived of the pleasure of his acquaintance, and of our mutual intercourse of good offices. I likewise reflected, with concern, that the dig- nity of our college must suffer greatly by the decease of such an eminent augur. This remind^ ed me, that he was the person who first intro- duced me to the college, where he attested my qualification upon oath ; and that it was he also who installed me as a member; so that I was bound by the constitution of the order to respect and honour him as a parent. My affliction was increased, that, in such a deplorable dearth Vol. II. B of I l/bf wise and virtuous citizens, this excellent man, my faithful associate in the service of the pub- lic, expired at the very time when the com- monwealth could least spare him, and when we had the greatest reason to regret the want of his prudence and authority. I can add, very sincerely, that in him I lamented the loss, not (as most people imagined) of a dan- gerous rival who opposed my reputation, but of a generous associate wjio engaged with me in the pursuit of fame. For if we have instances in history, though in studies of less impor- tance, that some distinguished poets have been greatly afflicted at the death of their contem- porary bards ; with what tender concern should I honour the memory of a man, with whom it is more glorious to have disputed the prize of eloquence, than never to have combated as an antagonist ! especially, as he was always so far from obstructing ?wj/ endeavours, or I hisy that, on the contrary, we mutually assisted each other with our credit and advice. But as he, who had a perpetual run of felicity,* left the world Quoniara pcrpetua quadam felicitate usus ille, cessit e ?ita, suo magis quam suorum civium tempore. This fine sentiment, conveyed in so elegant a language, carries an allusioft world at a happy moment for himself, though a most unfortunate one for his fellow-citizens; and died when it would have been much easier for him to lament the miseries of his country, than to assist it, after living in it as long as he could have lived with honour and reputation ;— we may, indeed, deplore his death as a heavy loss to us who survive him. If, however, we consider it merely as a personal event, we ought rather to congratulate his fate, than to pity it ; that, as often as we revive the memory of this illustrious and truly happy man, we may appear at least to have as much affection for him as for ourselves. For if we only lament that we are no longer permitted to enjoy him, it must, indeed, be acknowledged that this is a heavy misfortune to us ; which it, however, becomes us to support with moderation, lest our sorrow should be suspected to arise from motives of interest, and not from friendship. But if we afflict ourselves, on the supposition that he was the sufferer, — we misconstrue an event, which to him was certainly a very happy one. If lo the conversation of Solon with Craesus, in which th© former maintained the seeming paradox, that he alone can be deemed happy who meets a happy death. See Herod* Clio. 32. B 2 If IIoi tcusius was now living, he would t»o- bably regret many other advantages in comnioa with his worthy fellow-citizens. But when he beheld the forum, the great theatre in which he used to exercise his genius, no longer accessible to that accomplished eloquence, which could charm the ears of a Roman, or a Grecian au- dience ; he must have felt a pang of which none, or at least but few, besides himself, could be susceptible. Even / indulge heart-felt an- /Xguish, when I behold my country no longer supported by the_talents, the wisdom, and the authority ofjaw, — the only weapons which I have learned to wield, and to which I have lonir been accustomed, and which are most suitable to the character of an illustrious citizen, and of a vi rtuous a nd well regulated state4 But if there ever was a time, when the authority and eloquence of an hone^st individual could have wrested their arms from the hands of his distracted fellow-citizens ; it was then when the proposal of a compromise of our mutual dif- ferences was rejected, by the hasty imprudence of some and the timorous mistrust of others. Thus it hap])ened, among other misfortunes of a more deplorable nature, that when my declining age, after a life spent in the service of the pubhc, 2 should should liave reposed in the peaceful haibour, not of an indolent, and a total inactivity, but"? of a moderate and honourable retirement; and when my eloquence was properly mellowed, and liad acquired its full maturity ;— thus it happenec\, 1 say, that recourse was then had to those fatal arms, which the persons wlio had learned the use of tliem in lionourable conquest, / could no longer employ to any sahitary purpose^ Those, therefore, appear to me to have enjoyed a fortunate and a happy life, (of whatever statf thej were members, but especially in eurs) who, together with their authority and reputa- tion, either for their military or political ser- vices, are allowed to enjoy the advantages of philosophy : and the sole remembnince of them, in our present melancholy situation, was a pleasing relief to me, \rhen we lately happen- ed to mention them in the course of conversa- tion. For, not long ago, when I was walking for my amusement in a private avenue at home, I was agreeably interrupted by my friend Brutus, and T. Pomponius, who came, as bideed they frequently did, to visit me ;— two worthy citi- zens who were united to each other in the closest friendship, and were so dear and so g 3 agreeable e agreeable to iiie, that, on the first sight of them, all my anxiety for the commonwealth subsided. After the usual salutations, — Well, gentlemen, said I, how go the times ? What news have you brought r None, replied Brutus, that you would wish to hear, or that I can venture to tell you for truth. No, said Atti- cus ; we are come with an intention that all matters of state should be dropped ; and rather to hear somethiug from you, than to say any thing which might serve to distress you. — In- deed, said I, your company is a present remedy for my sorrow ; and your letters, when absent, were so encouraging, that they first revived my attention to my studies. I remember, replied Atticus, that Brutus sent you a letter from Asia, which I read with infinite pleasure: for he advised you in it like a man of sense, and g-ave you every consolation which the warmest friendship could suggest. — True, said I, for it was the receipt of that letter which recovered mc from a growing indispo- sition, to behold once more the cheerful face of day ; and as the Roman state, after the dreadful defeat near Cannae, first raised its drooping head by the victory ofMarcellus at Nola, which was succeeded by many other victories ; victories ; so, after the dismal wreck of our aflfairs, both public and private, nothing oc- curred to me, before the letter of my friend Brutus, which I thought to be worth my at- tention, or which contributed, in any degree, to ease the anxiety of my heart. That was certainly my intention, answered Brutus; and if I had the happiness to succeed, I was suf- ficiently rewarded for my trouble. But I could wish to be informed what you received from Atticus, which gave you such uncommon pleasure. That, said I, which not only enter- tained me ; but, I hope, has restored me en- tirely to myself. Indeed ! replied he ; and what miraculous composition could that be ? — Nothing, answered I, could have been a more acceptable, or a more seasonable present, than that excellent treatise of his, which roused me from a state of languor and despondency.— You mean, said he, his short, and, I think, very accurate abridgment of universal history. The very same, said I ; for that little treatise has absolutely saved me. I am heartily glad of it, said Atticus ; but what could you discover in it which was either new to you, or so wonderfully beneficial as you pretend ? It certainly furnished many hints, B 4 said said I, whicli were entirely new to nie : and the exact order of time which you observed through the whole, gave mc the opportunity I had long wished for, of beholding the his- tory of all nations in one regular and compre- hensive view. The attentive perusal of it proved an excellent remedy for my sorrows, and led me to think of attempting somethincv on your own plan, partly to amuse myself, and partly to return your favour, by a grateful, though not an equal acknowledgment. We are commanded, it is true, in that precept of Hesiod, so much admired by the learned, to return with the same measure we have receiv- ed ; or, if possible, with a larger. As to a friendly inclination, I shall certainly return you a full proportion of it; but as to a recom- pence in kind, I confess it to be out of mv power, and therefore hope you will excuse me : fori have not, as husbandmen arc accustomed to have, gathered a fresh harvest out of which to repay the kindness ' I have received; my whole b Non enim ex novis, ut agricolae solcnt, frucCibus esf, •ode libi reddam quod accepl. The allusion is to a farmer, ^ho, in time of neccssify, borrows corn or fruit of his more opulent whole harvest having sickened and died, for want of the usual manure : and as little am I able to present you with any thing from those hidden stores wdiich are now consigned to per- petual darkness, and to which 1 am denied all access ; though, formerly, I was almost tlie only person who was able to command them at pleasure. I must, therefore, try my skill in a lomr-nesflected and uncultivated soil ; which I will endeavour to improve with so much care, that I may be able to repay your liberality with interest ; provided my genius should be so happy as to resemble a fertile held, which, after being suffered to lie fallow a considerable time, produces a heavier crop than usual. Very well, re])lied Atticus, I shall expect the fulfilment of your promise : but I shall not in- sist upon it till it suits your convenience ; though, after all, 1 shall certainly be better pleased if you discharge the obligation. And I also, said Brutus, shall expect that you per- form your promise to my friend Atticus : nay, though I am only his voluntary solicitor, I shall, opulent neighbour, which he repays in kind as soon as his harvest is gathered home. Cicero was not, he says, in a^ situation to make a similar return. 10 shall, perhaps, be very pressing for the dis- charge of a debt, which the creditor himself is willing to submit to your own choice. But I shall refuse to pay you, said I, unless the original creditor takes no farther part in the suit. This is more than I can promise, replied he, for I can easily foresee, that this easy man, who disclaims all severity, will urgfe his de- mand upon you, not indeed to distress you, but yet, with earnestness and importunity. — To speak ingenuously, said Atticus, my friend Brutus, I believe, is not much mistaken : for as I now find you in good si)irits, for the iirst time, after a tedious interval of despondency, I shall soon make bold to apply to you ; and as this gentleman has promised his assistance, to recover what you owe me, the least I can do is to solicit, in mv turn, for what is due to him. Explain your meaning, said I. — I mean, re- plied he, that you must write something to amuse us ; for your pen has been totally silent this long time ; and since your treatise on poli- tics, we have had nothing from you of any kind; though it was the perusal of that which fired me with the ambition to write an abridg- ment of universal history. But we shall, how- ever, leave you to answer this demand, when, and U and in what manner you shall think most con- venient. At present, if you are not otherwise engaged, you must give us your sentiments on a subject on which we both desire to be better informed. And what is that ? said I. A w^ork which you had just begun, replied he, when I saw you last at Tusculanum, — the History of Famous Orators, — xvhen they made their appearance, and who and what they were ; which furnished such an agreeable tiain of conversation, that when I related the sub- stance o f it toj /j2j^r, orj o^gkt rajbex4p4iave said our common friend Brutus, he expressed an ardent desiie to hear the whole of it from your own mouth. Knov\ing you, therefore, to be at leisure, we have taken the present oppor- tunity to wait upon you ; so that, if it is really convenient, you w^ill oblige us both by resuming the subject. Well, gentlemen, said I, as you are so pressing, I will endeavour to satisfy you in the best manner I am able. — You are able enough, replied he ; only un- bend, or rather, if possible, set at full liberty your niind. If I remember right, said I, Atticus, what gave rise to the conversation, was my observing, that the cause of Deiotarus, a most excellent sovereign, and a faithful ally, 4 was If Id was pleaded by our friend Brutus, in my hear^ ini^, with the greatest elegance and dignity. True, replied he, and you took occasion from the ill success of Brutus, to lament the ^loss of a fair administration of justice in the fonmi. I did so, answered I, as indeed I fre- quently do : and whenever I see you, my Bra- tus, I am concerned to think where your won- derful genius, your finished erudition, and un- paralleled industry^ will find a theatre to dis- play themselves. For after you had thoroughly improved your abilities, by pleading a variety of important causes ; and when my declining vigour was just giving way, and lowering the ensigns of dignrtv to your more active talents ; the liberty of the state received a fata! over- throw, and that eloquence, of which we are now to give the history, was condemned to perpetual silenc^> Our other misfortunes, re- plied Brutus, I lament sincerely ; and I think I ought to lamdnt them : — but as to eloquence, I am not so fond of the influence and the glory it bestows, as of tlie study and the practice of it, which nothing can deprive me o^ while you are so well disposed to assist me : for no .man can be an elocj^nt speaker, who has not H clear and ready conception. Whoever, thei-e- fore,, fore, applies himself to the study of elo- quence, is at the same time improving his judg- ment, which is a talent equally necessary in all military operations. Your remark, said I, is vety just ; and I have a higher opinion of the merit of eloquence, because, though there is scarcely any person so ditiident as not to per- suadehimself, that he either has, or may acquire every other accomplishment which, formerly, could have given him consequence in the state; I can find no person who has been made an orator by the success of his military prowess. But that we may carry on the conversation with greater ease, let us seat ourselves. — As my visitors had no objection to this, we ac- cordingly took our seats in a private lawn, near a statue of Plato. Then resuming the conver- nation, — To recommend the study of eloquence^ said I, and describe its force, and the great dignity it confers upon those who have acquired | it, is neither our present design, nor has any necessary connection with it. But I will not hesitate to affirm, that whether it is acquired by art or practice, or the mere powers of na- ture, it is the most difficult of all attainments ; for each of the five branches of which it is said to consist, is of itstlf a very important art ; from 14 //Z 7 from whence it may easily be conjectured, how great and arduous must he the profession which unites and comprehends them all. Greece alone is a sufficient witness of this ; for though she was fired with a wonderful love of eloquence, and has long since excelled every other nation in the practice of it, yet she had all the rest of the arts much earlier ; and had not only invented, but even compleat- cd them, a considerable time before she was mistress of the full powers of elocution. But when I direct my eyes to Greece, your beloved Athens, my Atticus, first strikes my sight, and is the brightest object in my view / for in that illustrious city the orator first made his ap- pearance, and it is there we shall find the earliest records of eloqwence, and the first spe- cimensof a discourse conducted by rules of art. But even in Athens there is not a single production now extant which discovers any - taste for ornament, or seems to have been tlie effort of a real orator, before the time of Peri- ^^les (whose name is prefixed to some orations ^\Tiich still remain) and his contemporary Thu- cydides ; who flourished,— not in the infancy of the state, but when it was arrived at its full maturity of power. It iij, however, supposed, that 15 that Pisistratus (who lived many years be- fore) together with Solon, who was something older, and Clisthenes, who survived them both, were very able speakers for the age they lived in. But some years after these, as may be col- lected from the Attic annals, came the above- mentioned Themistocles, who is said to have been as much distinguished by his eloquence as by his political abilities ; — and after him the celebrated Pericles, who, though adorned with every kind of excellence, was most ad- mired for his talents as a speaker. Cleon also, their contemporary, through a turbulent citizen, was allowed to be a tolerable orator. These were immediately succeeded by Alci- biades, Critias, and Theramenes ; the character of their eloquence may be easily inferred from the writings of Thucydides, who lived at the same time : their discourses were nervous and stately, full of sententious remarks, and so ex- cessively concise as to be sometimes obscure. But as soon as the force of a regidar and a well-adjusted style was understood, a crowd of rhetoricians immediately appeared — such as Gorgias the Leontine, Thrasymachus the Chal- cedonian, Protagoras the Abderite, and Hip- pias the Elean, who were all held in great asleem. irsteein, — with many others of tlie same age^ who professed (it must be owned rather too arrogantly) to teach their scholars, — hoxv the wor,se might be madCy by the force of eloquence^ to appear the better cause. But these were openly opposed by Socrates, who, by a subtle method of arguing peculiar to himself, took every opportunity to refute tlie principles of their art. His instructive conferences pro-^ duced a number of intelligent men, and Phi- losophy is said to have derived her birth from him; notthe doctrine of Physics, which was of an earlier date, but that Pliilosophy which treats of men, and manners, and pX. the nature of good and evil./ But as this is foreign to our present subject, mc must defer the philoso- phers to another opportunity, and return to the orators, from whom I have ventured to make a short digression. When the professors, therefore, abovementioned, were in the decline of life, Isocrates made his appearance, whose house stood open to all Greece as the school of eloquence, lie was an accomplished orator, and an excellent teacher ; though he did not display his talents in the splendour of the forum, but cherished and imprcjved within the walls of an obscure academv, that j»*lorv which, m 17 in my opinion, no poet has ever yet acquired. He composed many valuable specimens of his art, and taught the principles of it to others ; and not only excelled his predecessors in every part of it, but first discovered that a certain metre should be observed in prose, though totally different from the measured rhyme of the poets. Before him, the artificial structure and harmony of language was unknown ; — or if there are any traces of it to be discovered, they appear to have been made without design ; which, perhaps, will be thought a beauty : — but whatever it may be deemed, it w^as, in the present case, the effect rather of native genius, or of accident, than of art and observation. For nature herself teaches us to close our sen- tences within certain limits ; and when they are thus confined to a moderate flow of ex- pression, they will frequently have an harmo- nious cadence : for the ear alone can decide what is full and complete, and what is defi- cient ; and the course of our language will ne- cessarily be regulated by our breath, in which it is excessively disagreeable, not only to fail, but even to labour. After Isocrates came Lysias, who, though not personally engaged in forensic causes, was Vol. II. C atery 'I 18 I • a very accurate and an elegant composer, and such a one as you might almost venture to pronounce a complete orator : for Demost- henes is the man who approaches the charac- ter so nearly, that you may apply it to him without hesitation. No keen, no artful turns could have been contrived for the pleadings he has left behind him, which he did not readily discover; — nothing could have been express- ed with grcatti nicety, or more clearly and poignantly, than it has been already expressed by him ; — and nothing greater, nothing more rapid and forcible, nothing adorned with a nobler elevation, either of language or senti- ment, can be conceived, than what is to be found in his orations, lie was soon rivalled by his contemporaries Hyperides, TEschines, Lycurgus, Dmarchus, and Demades, (none of whose wTitings are extant,) with many others that might be mentioned : for this age w\as adorned with a profusion of good orators ; and to the end of this period appears to me to have flourished that vigorous and blooming elo- quence, which is distinguished by a natural beauty of composition, without disguise or af- fectation. When these orators were in the de- cline of life, they were succeeded by Phale- 2 reus. 19 reus, then in the prime of youth. He indeed surpassed them all in learning, but was fitter to appear on the parade, than in the field ; and, accordingly, he rather pleased and entertained the Athenians, than inflamed their passions ; and marched forth into the dust and heat of the forum, not from a weather-beaten tent, but from the shady recesses of Theophrastus, a man of consummate erudition. He was the first Avho -relaxed the force of eloquence, and gave her a soft and tender air : and he rather chose to be agreeable, as indeed he was, than great and striking ; but agreeable in such a manner as rather charmed, than warmed the mind of the hearer. His greatest ambition was to impress his audience with a high opinion of his ele- gance, and not, as Eupolis relates of Pericles, to ayiimate as well as io please. You see, then, in the very city in which eloquence was born and nurtured, how late it was before she grew to maturity ; for before the time of Solon and Pisistratus, w^e meet with no one who is so much as mentioned as an able speaker. These, indeed, if we com- pute by the Roman date, may be reckoned very ancient ; but if by that of the Athenians, we shall find them to be moderns. For though C 2 they 20 they flourished in the reign of Servius Tul- lius, Athens had then subsisted much longer than Rome has at present. I have not, how- ever, the least doubt that the power of elo- quence has been always more or less conspi- cuous. For Homer, we may suppose, would liot have ascribed such superior talents of elocution to Ulysses and Nestor (one of whom he celebrates for his force, and the other for his sweetness,) unless the art of speaking had then been held in some esteem ; nor could the poet himself hav^e attained a style so finished, nor exhibit such fine specimens of oratory as we actually find in him. The time, indeed, in which he lived is undetermined : but we are certain that he flourished many years before Romulus, and as early at least as the elder Lycurgus, the legislator of the Spartans. But a more particular attention to the art, and a greater ability in the practice of it, may be observed in Pisistratus. He was succeeded in the following century by Theniistocles, who, according to the Roman date, was a person of the remotest antiquity ; but according to that of die Athenians, he was almost a modern. For he lived when Greece was in the height of her power, and when the city of Rome had but lately 21 lately been emancipated from the shackles of regal tyranny ; — for the dangerous war with the Volsci, who Avere headed by Coriolanus (then a voluntary exile), happened nearly at the same time as the Persian war ; and we may add, that the fate of both commanders was remarkably similar. Each of them, after dis- tinguishing himself as an excellent citizen, being driven from his country by the insults of an ungraceful people, went over to the enemy ; and each of them repressed the efforts of his resentment by a voluntary death. For though you, my Atticus, have represented the death of Coriolanus in a different manner, you must pardon me if I do not subscribe to the justness of your representation. You may use your pleasure, replied Atticus, with a smile : for it' is the privilege of rhetori- cians to exceed the truth of history, that they may have an opportunity of embellishing the fate of their heroes : and accordingly, Clitar- chus and Stratocles have entertained us with the same pretty fiction about the death of The- mistocles, which you have invented for Corio- lanus. Thucydides, indeed, who was himself an Athenian of the highest rank and merit, and lived nearly at the same time, has only in- C 3 formed 22 23 formed us that he died, and was private|y buried in Attica, adding, that it v/as suspect- ed by some that he had poisoned himself. But these ingenious writers have assured us, that, having slain a bull at the altar, he caught the blood in a large bowl, and, drinking it off, fell suddenly dead upon the ground. For this species of death had a tragical air, and might be described with all the pomp of rhetoric ; whereas the ordinary way of dying afforded no opportunity for ornament. As it will, there- fore, suit your purpose, that Coriolanus should resemble Themistocles in every thing, I give you leave to introduce the fatal bowl ; and you may still farther heighten the catastrophe by a solemn sacrifice, that Coriolanus may appear in all respects to have been a second Themis- tocles. I am much oblig: ! to you, said I, for your courtesy : but, for the future, I shall be more cautious in meddling with history when you are present ; whom I may justly commend as a most exact and scrupulous relator of the Koman history ; but nearly at the time we are speaking of (though somewhat later) lived the above-mentioned Pericles, the illustrious son of Xantippus, who first improved his eloquence by the friendly aids of^iit£i:atuxe ;~not that kind of o f literature which treats professedly of the art of speaking, of which there was then no regular system ; but after he had studied underAnaxa- goras, the naturalist, he directed with alacrity his attention from abstruse and intricate spe- culations to forensic and popular debates. All Athens was charmed with the sweetness of his language, and not only admired him for his fluency, but was awed by the superior force and the tensors of his eloquence. This age, therefore, which may be considered as the infancy of the art, furnished Athens with an orator wdio almost reached the summit of his profession : for an emulation to shine in the forum is not usually found among a people who are either employed in settling the form of their government, or engaged in war, or struggling with difficulties, or subjected to the arbitrary power of kings. Eloquence is the at-1 tendant of peace, the companion of ease and prosperity, and the tender offspring of a free and a well-established constitutionri Aris- totle, therefore, informs us, that when the tyrants were expelled from Sicily, and private . property, after a long interval of servitude, was secured by the administration of justice, the Sicilians; Coraxand Tisias (for this people, C 4 i» 24 in general, Avere very quick and acute, and had a natural turn for disquisition) first attempted to write precepts on the art of speaking. Be- fore them, he says, no one spoke by prescrib- ed method, conformably to rules of art, though many discoursed very sensibly, and generally from written notes : but Protagoras took the pains to compose a number of dissertations, on such leading and general topics as are now called common places. Gorgias, he adds, did the same, and wrote panegyrics and invectives on every subject : for he thought it was the province of an orator to be able either to exaggerate, or extenuate, as occasion might require. Antiphon the Rhamnusian com- posed several essays of the same species ; and (according to Thucydides, a very respectable writer, who was present to hear him) pleaded a capital cause in his own defence, with as much eloquence as had ever yet been displayed by any man. But Lysias was the first who openly professed the art ; and, after him, Theodorus, being better versed in the theory than the practice of it, began to compose ora- tions for others to pronounce ; but confined to himself the art of composing them. In the same manner, Isocrates at first declined to teach 25 teach the art, but wrote speeches for other people to deliver : on which account, being often prosecuted for assisting, contrary to law, to circumvi?nt one or another of the par- ties in judgment, he left off composing orations for other people, and wholly applied himself to prescribe rules, and reduce them into a system. Thus, then, we have traced the birth and origin of the orators of Greece, who were, in- deed, very ancient, as I have before observed, if we compute by the Roman annals ; but of a much later date, if we reckon by their own : for the Athenian state had signalized itself by a variety of great exploits, both at home and abroad, a considerable time before she became enamoured with the charms of eloquence. But this noble art was not com- mon to Greece in general, but almost peculiar to Athens. For who has ever heard of au Argive, a Corinthian, or a Theban orator, at the times we are speaking of? unless, perhaps, some merit of the kind may be allowed to Epaminondas, who was a man of uncommon erudition. But I have never read of a Lace- demonian orator, from the earliest period of time to the present. For Menelaus himself, though said 2G or Mi said by Homer to have possessed a sweet elo- cution, is likewise described as a man of few words. Brevity, indeed, upon some occasions, is a real excellence ; but it is very far from being compatible with the general character of eloquence. The art of speaking* was likewise studied, and admired, beyond the limits of Greece ; and the extraordinary honours which were paid to oratory have perpetuated the namesof many foreigners who had the happi- ness to excel in it. For no sooner had elo- quence ventured to sail irom the Pireaius, but she traverseil all the isles, and visited every part of Asia; till at last infected with their man- /ncrs, she lost all the purity and the healthy e€H^k^xkm„ of--tLic J\XUc style, and indeed almost forgot hcrjoalhreJanguage. The Asi- atic orators, therefore, though not to be un- dervalued for the rapidity and the copious variety of their elocution, were certainly too loose and luxuriant. But the Rhodians were of a sounder constitution, and more>esembled the Atheiiians. So much, then, for the Greeks ; for, perhaps what I have already said of them, is more than was necessary. Respect- ing the necessity of it, answered Brutus, there is no occasion to speak : but what you have have said of them has entertained me so agree- ably, that instead of being longer, it has been much shorter than I could have wished. A very handsome compliment, said I ; but it is time to begin with our own countrymen, of whom it is difficult to give any further account than what we are able to conjecture from our annals. For who can question tlie address, and the capacity of Brutus, the illustrious founder of your flimily ? That Brutus, who so readily dis- covered the meaning of the oracle, which pro- mised the supremacy to him who should first salute his mother?^ That Brutus, who under the appearance of stupidity concealed the most exalted understanding? Who dethroned and banished a powerful monarch, the son of an illustrious sovereign ? Who settled the state, which he had rescued from arbitrary power, by the appointment of an annual magistracy, a regular ' The words here alluded to occur in Livy : Imperium summum Romffi habcbit, qui vcstriim primus, O juvenes, osculum matrj tulerit. This at first was interpreted of Tar- quin, who kissed his mother. But Brutus gave tho words a different and more ingenious turn. He illustrated their meaning, by falling down, and kissing the earth, (he com- mon mother of all mankind. 28 a regular system of laws, and a free and open course of justice? And who abrogated the authority of his colleague, that he might ba- nish from the city the smallest vestijre of the regal name ?— Events, which could never have been produced without exerting the pow- ers of persuasion !— We are likewise informed that a ftw years after the expulsion of the kings, when the Plebeians retired to the banks of the Anio, about three miles from the city, and had possessed themselves of what is called the Sacred Mount, M. Valerius the dictator appeased their fury by a pul)lic harangue; for which he was afterwards rewarded with the highest posts of honour, and was the first Ro- man who was distinguished by the surname of Maximus. Nor can L. Valerius Potitus be supposed to liave been destitute of the powers of utterance, who, after the odium which had been excited against the Patricians by the tyrannical government of the Decemviri, re- conciled the peoi)Ic to the senate, -by liis prudent laws and conciliatory speeches. We may likewise suppose, that Appius Claudius was a man of some eloquence; since he dis- suaded the senate from consenting to a peace with king Pyrrhus, though they Avere much inclined 29 inclined to it The same might be said of Caius Fabricius, who was dispatched to Pyr- rhus to treat for the ransom of his captive fellow-citizens ; and of Titus Coruncanius, who appears, by the memoirs of the pontifical college, to have been a person of the greatest genius : and likewise of M. Curius (then a tribune of the people) who, when the Interrex Appius the Bli?id, an able speaker, held the Co77iitia contrary to law, by refusing to admit any consuls of Plebeian rank, prevailed upon the senate to protest against the conduct of his antagonist ; which, if we consider that the Msenian law was not then in being, was a very bold attempt. We may also conclude that M. Pompilius was a man of abilities, who, in the time of his consulship, when he was solemn- izing a public sacrifice in the proper habit of his oflfice, (for he was also a Flamen Carmen- talis) hearing of the mutiny and insurrection of the people against the senate, rushed imme- diately into the midst of the assembly, covered as he was with his sacerdotal robes, and quelled the sedition by his authority and the force of his elocution. I do not pretend to have historical evidence that the persons here mentioned were then reckoned orators, or that any so auy sort of reward or encouragement was given to eloquence : I only infer what appears very probable. It is also recorded, that C. Flaniinius, w ho, when tribune of the people proposed the law for dividing the conquered territories of the Gauls and Piceni among the citizens, and who, after his promotion to the consulship, was slain near the lake Thrasi- iiienus, became very poi)ular by historical ta- lents. Quintus Maximus Verrucosus was like- wise reckoned a good speaker by his contem- poraries ; as was also Quintus Metellus, who, in the second Punic war, was joint-consul with L. VeturiusPhilo. But the fust person we have any certain ac- count of, who was publicly distinguished as an.QXxUMr, and^who really appears to have been sucli, wa^JNI. Cornclius__CAithi^^ ; whose elo- quence is attested by Q. Ennius, a voucher of the highc5>t credibiliiy ; since he actually heard him speak, and gave him this character after his death ; so that there is no reason to suspect that he was prom[)ted by the warmth of his friendship to exceed the bounds of truth. In the ninth book of his annals, he has mentioned him in the following terms : .Mill ur 31 Additur orator Corneliu^ siiaiiloqucnii Ore Cethegus Marcu\ Tuditano collega^ Marci Filius. Add the orator AI. CoinieUus Cethegus, so much admired for his mellifiuent tongue ; icho was the colleague of Tuditanus, and the son of Marcus, He expressly calls him aa eratory you see, and attributes to him a re- markable sweetness of elocution ; which, even in the present times, is an excellence of which few are possessed : for some of our modern orators are so insufferably harsh, .that they may be said rather to bark than to speak. But what the poet so much admires in his friend, may certainly be considered as one of the prin- cipal ornaments of eloquence. He adds ; -is dicfusy oUis populdribus olim^ Qui tvfn lixebant homines^ atque ceiuin agitabantj Flos delibatus populL He was called bi/ his contemporaries, the choicest Jloxver of the state. A very elegant compliment ! for as the glory of a man is the strength of his mental capacity, so the brightest ornament of genius is eloquence ; in which, whoever liad the happiness to excel, was beau- tifully 32 titully styled, by the ancients, the Jlozver of the^ state ; and, as the poet immediately subjoins, Suiidotque medulla : The very marrow and quintcasenct of per^ suasion. That which the Greeks call Usl^co, (i. €. persuasion) and which it is the chief business of an orator to effect, is here called suada by Ennius ; and of this he commends Cethegus as the quintessence ; so that he inakes the Roman orator to be himself the veiy '^^-^gul^stance of that amiable goddess, who is said by Eupolis to have dwelt on thelipsof Pericles* This Cethegus was joint-consul with P. Tudi- tanus in the second Punic war ; at which time also M. Cato was quaestor, about one hundred and forty years before I myself was promoted to the consulship ; which circumstance would have been absolutelv lost, if it had not been recorded by Ennius; and the memory of that illustrious citizen, as has probably been the case of many others, would have been buried in the ruins of antiquity. The manner of speaking which w^as then in vogue, may easily be collected from the writings of Ncevius : for Najvius died, as we learn from the memoirs of 33 of the times, when the persons above-mentioned v/ere consuls ; though Varro, a most accurate investigator of historical truth, thinks there is a mistake in this, and fixes the death of Na;- vius something later. For Plautus died in the consulship of P. Claudius and L. Porcius, twenty years after the consulship of the per- sons we have been speaking of, and when Cato was censor. Cato, therefore, must have been younger than Cethegus, for he was consul nine years after him : but we always consider him as a person of the remotest antiquity, though he died in the consulship of Lucius MarciusandM. Manilius, and but eighty-three years before mj^ own promotion to the same office. He is certainly, however, the most ancient orator we have, whose writings may claim our attention ; unless any one is pleased on ac- count of the above mentioned speech respect- ing the peace with Pyrrhus, or a series of panegyrics on the dead, which I own, are still extant, to compliment Appiu.s with that charac- ter. For it was customary in most families of note to preserve their images, their trophies of honour, and their memoirs, either to adorn a funeral when any of the family deceased, or Vol. II. D to II V 34 35 to perpetuate the fame of their ancestors, or prove their own nobility. But the truth of history has been much corrupted by these en- comiastic essays ; for many circumstances were recorded in them which never existed, such as false triumphs, a pretended succession of consulships, and false alliances and elevations, when men of inferior rank were confounded with a noble family of the same name: as if I myself should pretend that I am descended from M. Tullius, who was a Patrician, and shared the consulship with Servius Sulpicius, about ten years after the expulsion of the kings. But the real speeches of Cato are almost as numerous as those of Lysias the Athenian ; under whose name a great number arc still ex- tant. For Lysias was certainly an Athenian ; because he not only died but received his birtli at Athens, and served all the offices of the city ; though Tima^us, as if he acted by the Licinian or the Mucian law, orders his return to Syracuse. There is, however, a manifest re- semblance between his character, and that of Cato : for they are both of them distinguished by their acuteness, their elegance, their agreea- ble humour, and their brevity. But the Greek has the happiness to be most admired : for there are are some who are so extravagantly fond of him, as to prefer a graceful air to a vigorous constitution, and who are perfectly satisfied with a slender and an easy shape, if it is only atte nded with a moderate share ofhealth. It must, however, be acknowledged, that even Lysias often displays a vigour of mind, which no human power can excel ; though his mental frame is certainly more delicately wrought than that of Cato. Notwithstanding he has many admirers, who are charmed with him, merely on account of his delicacy. But as to C^Lto, where will you find a mo- dern orator who condescends to read him ? — nay, I might have said, who has the least knowledge of him ? — And yet, good gods ! what a wonderful man ! I say nothing of his merit as a citizen, a senator, and a general ; we must confine our attention to the orator . Who, then, has displayed more dignity as a panegyrist ?— more severity as an accuser .^•— greater acuteness of sentiments ? — or greater address in relating and informing ? Though he composed above a hundred and fifty ora — - tions, (which 1 have seen and read) they are crowded with all the beauties of language and sentiment. Let us select from these what de- D % serves I 3n 37 serves our notice and applause : they will sup- ply us with all the graces of oratory. Not to omit his Antiquities^ who will deny that these also are adorned with every flower, and with all the lustre of eloquence ? and yet he has scarcely any admirers ; which some ages ago was the case of Philistus the Syracusan, and even of Thucydides himself. For as the lofty and elevated style of Theopompus soon diminished the reputation of their pithy and laconic harangues, which were sometimes scarcely intelligible from excessive brevity and quaintness ; and as Demosthenes eclipsed the glory of Lysias, so the pompous and stately elocution of the moderns has obscured the lustre of Cato. But many of us are deficient in taste and discernment, for we admire the Greeks for their antiquity, and what is called their Al^ic njeatness, and yet have never noticed the same quality in Cato. This was the dis- tinguishing character, say they, of Lysias and Hyperides. I own it, and I admire them for it : but why not allow a share of it to Cato ? They are fond, they tell us, of the Attic style of eloquence : and their choice is certainly judicious, provided they not only copy the dry bones, but imbibe the animal spirits of those models. Inodelsi ^ What they recommend, however, is, to do it justice, an agreeable quality. But why must Lysias and Hyperides be so fondly ad- mired, while Cato is entirely overlooked ? His language indeed has an antiquated air, and some of his expressions are rather too harsh and inelegant* But let us remember that this Was the language of the time : only change and modernize it, which it was not in his power to do ;^— add the improvements of number and cadence, give an easier turn to his sentences, and regulate the structure and connection of his words (which was as little practised even by the older Greeks as by him) and you will find no one who can claim the preference to Cato, The Greeks themselves acknowledge that the chief beauty of composition results from the frequent use of those tralatitious forms of expression which they call tropes, and of those various attitudes of language and sentiment which they call figures : but it is almost in- credible in what copiousness and with what amazing variety, they are all employed by Cato* I know, indeed, that he is not sufficiently polished, and that recourse must be had to a more perfect model for imitation : for he is an author of such antiquity, that he is the oldest D 3 noff I 58 now extant, whose writings can be read with patience ; and the ancients, in general, acquired a much greater reputation in every other art, than in that of speaking. But who that has seen the statues of the moderns, will not per- ceive in a moment, that the figures of Cana- chus are too stiff and formal, to resemble hfc ? Those of Calamis, though evidently harsh, are somewhat softer. Even the statues of Myron are not sufficient]}^ ahve : and yet you would not hesitate to pronounce them beautiful. But those of Polycletes are much finer, and, in my mind, completely finished. The case is the same in painting ; for in the works of Zeuxis, Polygnotus, Timanthcs, and several other masters, who confined themselves to the use of four colours, we commend the air and the symmetry of their figures; but in iEtion, Ni- comachus, Protogene.% and Apelles, every thing is finished to perfection. This I be- lieve, will hold equally true in all the other arts ; for there is not one of them which was invented and carried to perfection at the same time. I cannot doubt, for instance, that there wxre many poets before Homer : we may infer it from those very songs which he himself in- forms us were sung at the feasts of the Plia^a- cians. V 39 cians, and of the profligate suitors of Pene- lope. Nay, to go no farther, what is become of the ancient poems of our own countrymen ? Such as the fauns and rustic bards composed, When none the rocks of poetry had crossed, Nor wish'd to form his style by ruleS of art, Before this Tcnt'rous man : &c. Old Ennius here speaks of himself; nor does he carry his boast beyond the bounds of truth: the case being really as he describes it. For we had only an Odyssey in Latin, which re- sembled one of the rough and unfinished statues of Dadalus ; and some dramatic pieces of Livius, which will scarcely bear a second reading. This Livius exhibited his first performance at Rome in the consulship of M. Tuditanus, and C. Clodius the son of Cae- cus, the year before Ennius was born, and, ac- cording to the account of my friend Atticus, (whom I choose to follow) the five hundred and fourteenth from the building of the city. But historians are not agreed about the date of the year. Attius informs us that Livius was taken prisoner at Tarentum by Quintus Max- imus in his fifth consulship, about thirty D 4 y^a^'s 40 41 years after he is said by Atticus, and our ancient annals, to have introduced the drama. He adds that he exhibited his first dramatic piece about eleven years after, in the consul- ship of C. Cornelius and Q. Minucius, at the public games which Salinator had vowed to the goddess of youth for his victory over the Senones. But in this, Attius was so far mis- taken, that Ennius, when the persons above- mentioned wTre consuls, was forty years old : so that if Livius was of the same age, as in this case he would have been, the first drama- tic authoRwe had must have been younger than Plautus and Nsevius, who had exhibited a great number of plays before the time he specifies. If these remarks, my Brutus, appear un- suitable to the subject before us, you must throw the whole blame upon Atticus, who has inspired me with a strange curiosity to enquire into the age of illustrious men, and the re- spective times of their appearance. On the contrary, said Brutus, I am highly pleased that you have carried your attention so far ; and I think your remarks well adapted to the curious task you have undertaken, the giving us a his- tory of the different classes of orators in their proper 4 proper order. You understand me right, said 1 ; and I heartily wish those venerable Odea were still extant, which Cato informs us, in his Antiquities, used to be sung by every guest in his turn at the homely feasts of our ancestors, many ages before, to commemorate the feats of their heroes. But the Pufiic war of that antiquated poet, whom Ennius so proudly ranks among the fauns and rustic bards, affords me as exquisite a pleasure as the finest statue that was ever formed by Myron. Ennius, I allow, was a more finished writer: but if he had really undervalued the other, as he pretends to do, he would scarcely have omit- ted such a bloody war as the first Punic, when he attempted professedly to describe all the wars of the republic. Nay he himself assigns the reason. Others (said he) that cruel war hate sung : Tcry true, and they have siing it with great order and precision, though not, indeed, in such elegant strains as yourself This you ought to have acknowledged, as you must cer- tainly be conscious that you have borrowed ^any ornaments from Nasvius ; or if you re- 3 fuse I 43 fuse to own it, I shall tell you plainly that you have pilfered them. Contemporary with the Cato above-men- tioned (though somewhat older) were C. Fla- niinius, C. Varro, Q Maximus, Q. Metellus, P. Lentulus, and P. Crassus who was joint consul with the elder Atricanus. This Scipio, we are told, was not destitute of the powers of elocution : but his son, who adopted the younger Scipio (the son of Paulus iEmilius) would have stood foremost in the list of ora- tors, if he had possessed a firmer constitution. This is evident from a few speeches, and a Greek History of his, which are very agreeably written. In the same class we may place Sextus iElius, who was the best lawyer of his time, and a ready speaker. A little after these, flourished C. Sulpicius Gallus, who was better acquainted with the Grecian literature than all the rest of the nobihty, and to his reputation as a graceful orator, he added the highest accomplishments in every other respect ; for a more copious and splendid M'ay of speaking began now to prevail. When this Sulpicius^ in quality of pra^or, was celebrating the pub- lic shews in honour of Aj)ollo, died the poet Ennius> i I Ennius, in the consulship of Q. Marcius and Cn. Servilius, after exhibiting his tragedy of Thyestes. At the same time lived Tiberius Gracchus, the son of Publius, who was twice consul and censor : a Greek oration of his to the Rhodians is still extant, and he bore the cha-> racter of a \vmthy citizen, and an eloquentj speaker. We are likewise told that P. Scipio Nasica, surnamed Corculim' as a favourite of the people, and who also had the honour to be twice chosen consul and censor, was esteemed an able orator : To him we may add L. Len- tulus, who was joint consul with C. Figulus ; — Q. Nobilior, the son of Marcus, who was inclined to the study of literature by his father's example, and presented Ennius (who had served under his father in ^tolia) with the freedom of the city, when he founded a colony in quahty of triumvir: and his colleague T. Annius Luscus, who is said to have been tolerably eloquent. We are likewise informed that - His name was P. Corntlius Scipio Nasica. From Corne^ hus, as being a farourite of the people, he was called Car- culum, the little heart of the people. In our language, with nearer affinity to his real name, he might hare been styled Afrwf/ of the people. !il 44 45 » that L. Paulus, the father of Africanus^ defended the character of an eminent citizen in a pubhc speech ; and that Cato, who died in the 83d year of his age, was then hving, and actually pleaded, that very year, against the defendant Servius Galba, in the open forum, with great energy and spirit:— he has left a copy of this oration behind him But when Cato was in the dcch'ne of h'fe, a crowd of orators, all younger than himself, made their appearance at the same time : for A* Albinus, who wrote a history in Greek, and shared the consulship with L. Lucullus, was greatly admired for his learning and elocution t and nearly ranked with him Servius Fulvius, and Servius Fabius Pictor, the latter of whom was well acquainted with the laws of his coun- try, the Belles Lettres, and the History of Antiquity. Quintus Fabius Labeo hkewise excelled in the same accomplishments. But Q. Metellus, whose four sons attained the con- sular dignity, was admired for his eloquence beyond the rest ;— he undertook the defence of L. Cotta, when accused by Africanus,— and composed many other speeches, particularly that against Tiberius Gracchus, of which we have ' J have a full account in the annals of C. Fannius. L. Cotta himself was likewise reckoned a skiU ful speaker ; " but C. Lselius, and P. Africanus were allowed by all to be more finished orators ; their orations are still extant, and may serve as specimens of their respective abilities. But Servius Galba, who somewhat preceded either of them in years, was indisputably the best speaker of the age. He was the first among the Romans who displayed the proper and distinguishing talents of an orator ; such as, digressing from his subject to embellish and diversify it,— soothing or alarming the pas- sions, exhibiting every circumstance in the strongest light,— imploring the compassion of his audience,— and artfully enlarging on thos^ topics, or general principles of prudence or mp- raiity, on which the stress of his argument de- pended : and yet, I know not how, though he is allowed to have been the greatest orator of his time, the orations he has left are more ina- nimated • The original is veterator Iiabibus. lie was deemed u veteran^ i. e. he possessed aU the skill of long-continued prac- tice. Sex. Pompeius interprets vetcratores, colli di dkti « multa renm gercndarum vetusiafc. if 46 iiimated and have more the air of antiquity than those of LaeUiis, or Scipio, or even of Cato himself. Their beauties have so decayed with age, that scarcely any thing remains of them, but the bare skeleton. In the same manner, though both La^lius and Scipio are ffreatly extolled for their abilities ; the pre- ference was giving to Lselius as a speaker ; and yet his oration, in defence of the privileges of the Sacerdotal college, has no greater merit than any one that might be named of the nu- merous speeches of Scipio. Nothing, indeed, can be sweeter and milder than that of La3- lius, nor could any thing have been itfged with greater dignity to support the honour of reli^ gion : but, of the two, Ltelius appears to me to be less polished, and to bespeak more of the mould of time than Scipio ; and, as different speakers h^ve different tastes, he had, in my mind, too strong a relish for antiquity, and was too fond of using obsolete expressions. But such isthejealousy of mankind, that they will not allow the same person to be possessed of too many perfections. For, as in military prowess they thought it impossible that any man could vie with Scipio, though Laelius had pot a little distinguished himself in the war 3 mih i 4 i 47 with Viriathus ; so for learning, eloquence, and wisdom, though each was allowed to be above the reach of any other competitor, they adjudge ed the preference to La^hus. Nor was this the opinion of the public only, but it seems to have been allowed by mutual consent between themselves : for it was then a general custom, as candid in this respect as it was fair and just in every other, to give his due to each. I accordingly remember that P. Ilutilius Rufus once told me at Smyrna, that when he was a young man, the two consuls P. Scipio and D. Brutus, by order of the senate, tried a capital cause of great consequence. For severa persons of note having been murdered in the Silan Forest, and the domestics, and some of the sons, of a company of gentlemen v/ho farm- ed the taxes of the pitch-manufactory, beiog charged with the fact, the consuls were ordered to try the cause in person. Lcelius, he said, spoke very sensibly and elegantly, as indeed he always did, on the side of the farmers of the customs. But the consuls, after hearing both sides, judging it necessary to refer the matter to a second trial, the same L^lius, a few days after, pleaded their cause again with more i! 48 more accuracy, and much better than at first. The afFair, however, was once more put off for a further hearing. Upon this, when his clients attended Lalius to his own house, and, after thanking him for what he had already done, earnestly begged him not to be disheartened by the fatigue he had suffered ;— he assured them he had exerted his utmost to defend their reputation ; but frankly added, that he thought their cause woidd be more effectually supported by Servius Galba, who possessed talents more powerful and penetrating than his own. They, accordingly, by the advice of Ljclius, requested Galba to undertake it. To this he consented ; but with the greatest modesty and reluctance, out of respect to the Hlustrious advocate he was going to succeed : — and as he had only the next day to prepare himself, he spent the whole of it in considering and digesting his cause. When the day of trial was come, Rutilius himself, at the request of the defendants, went early in the morning to Galba, to give him notice of it, and conduct him to the court in proper time. But till word was brought that the consuls were iroino- to the bench, he confined himself iu his study, where he suffered no one to be admitted ; and continued i 4» continued very busy in dictating to his ama- nuenses, several of whom (as indeed he often used to do) he kept fully employed at the same time. While he was thus engaged, being informed that it was high time for him to ap- pear in court, he left his house with that ani- mation and glow of countenance, that you would have thought he had not only prepared his cause, but actually carried it. Rutilius added, as another circumstance worth noticing, that his scribes, who attended him to the bar, appeared excessively fatigued : from whence he thought it probable that he was equally warm and vigorous in the composition, as in the delivery of his speeches. But to conclude the story, Galba pleaded his cause before Laelius himself, and a very numerous and atten- tive audience, with such uncommon force and dignity, that every part of his oration received the applause of his hearers : and so powerfully did he move the feelings, and ensured the sym- pathy of the judges, that his chents were im- mediately acquitted of the charge, to the satis- faction of the whole court. As, therefore, the two principal qualities^ required in an orator, arc perspicuity in stating j the subject, and dignified ardour in moving Vol. II. E thc^ * 50 the passions ; and as he who fires and infianies his audience, will ulwavs cfi'ect more than he who can barely inform and amuse them ; we may conjecture from tlie above narrative, with which I was favoured by RutiHus, that La^Uus was most admired for his elegance, and Galba for his pathetic force. But the energy pecuHar to him was most remarkably exerted, when, having in his prcetorship put to death some Lusitanians, contrary (it was believed) to his previous and express engagement; — T. Libo the tribune exasperated the people against liim, and preferred a bill which was to operate against his conduct as a subsequent law. M. Cato (as I have before mentioned) tliough extremely old, spoke in support of the bill with great vehemence; which speech he insert- ed in his book of Antiquities, a few days, or at most only a month or two, before his death* On this occasion, Galba refusing to plead to the charge, and submitting his fate to the generosity of the people, recommended his children to their protection, with tears in his eyes ; and particularly his young ward the son of C. Callus Sulpicius, his deceased friend, whose orphan state and piercing cries, which •were the more regarded for the sake of his illustrious M 51 illustrious father, excited their pity in a won-* derful manner; — and thus (as Cato informs us in his history) he escaped the flames which would otherwise have consumed him, by employing the children to move the compassion of the people. I likewise find (what may be easily judged from his orations still extant) that his prosecutor Libo was a man of some eloquence. As I concluded these remarks with a short pause ; — What can be the reason, said Brutus, if there was so much merit in the oratory of Calba, that there is no trace of it to be seen in his orations ; — a circumstance which I have no opportunity to be surprised at in others, who have left nothing behind them in writing:. The reasons, said I, why some have not written any thing, and others not so well as they spoke, are very different. Some of our orators, as being indolent, and unwilling to add the fatigue of private to public business, do not practise composition : for most of the ora- tions we are now possessed of were written not before they were spoken, but some time after-^ wards. Others did not choose the trouble of improving themselves ; to which nothing more contributes than frequent writing ; and as to E 2 perpetuating % 52 perpetuating the fame of their eloquence, they thought it unnecessary ; supposing that their eminence in that respect was sufficiently esta- blished already, and that it would be rather di- minished thanini reased by submitting any writ- ten specimen of it to the arbitrary test of Criticism. Some also were sensible that they "^ spoke much better than they were able to write ; which is generally the case of thoso who have a great genius, but little learning, such as Servius Galba. When he spoke, he was perhaps so much animated by the force of his abilities, and the natural warmth and impe- tuosity of his temper, that his language was rapid, bold, and striking; but afterwards, when he took up the pen in his leisure hours, and his passion had sunk into a calm, his elo- cution became dull and languid. This indeed can never happen to those whose only aim is ^to be neat and polished ;^ecausean orator may always be master of that discretion which will enable him both to speak and write in the same agreeable mannerj but no man can levive at pleasure the ardour of his passions ; and when that has once subsided, the fire and pathos of his language will be extinguished. This is the reason why the calm and easy spi- rit >3 rit of Leelius seems still to breathe in his wri tings, whereas the vigour of Galba is entirely withered away. We may also reckon in the number of mid^ dling orators, the two brothers L. and Sp. Mummius, both whose orations are still in beino- : — the style of Lucius is plain and anti- quated ; but that of Spurlus, though equally unembellished, is more close and compact,^ for he was well versed in the doctrine of th^ Stoics. The orations of Sp. Alpinus, their contemporary, are very numerous: and we have several by L. and C. Aurelius Oresta, who were esteemed indifferent speakers. P. Popilius also was a worthy citizen, and had a moderate share of elocution: but his son Caius was really eloquent. To these we may add C. Tuditanus, who was not only very polished, and graceful, in his manners and appearance, but had an elegant turn of ex- pression ; and of the same class was M. Oc- tavius, a man of inflexible constancy in every just and laudable measure; and who, after being insulted and disgraced in the most pub- lic manner, defeated his rival Tiberius Grac- chus by the mere dint of his perseverance. But M. iEmilius Lepidus, who was surnamed £ 3 Porcina. 54 Porcina, and flourished at the same time as Galba, though he was indeed something younger, was esteemed an orator of the first eminence; and really appears, from his orations which are still extant, to have been a masterly writer. For he was the first speaker, among the Romans, who gave us a specimen of the easy gracefulness of the Greeks; and who was distinguished by the measured flow of his language, and a style regularly polished and improved by art. His manner was carefully studied by C. Carbo and Tib. Gracchus, two accomplished youths, who were nearly of an age: but we must defer their character as public speakers, till we have finished our ac count of their elders. For Q. Pompeius, con- sidering the time in which he lived, was no contemptible orator, and actually raised him- self to the highest honours of the state by his own personal merit, and without being recom- mended, as usual, by the quality of his ances- tors. Lucius Cassius too derived his influence, which was very considerable, not indeed from the highest powers, yet from a tolerable share of eloquence; for it is remarkable that he nnade himself popular, not, as others did, by his complaisance and liberality, but by the gloomy i5 gloomy rigour and severity of his manners. His law for collecting the votes of the people by way of ballot, was strongly opposed by the tribune M. Antius Briso, who was supported by M. Lepidus, one of the consuls : and it was afterwards objected to Africanus, that Briso dropped the opposition by his advice. At this time the two Scipios were very serviceable to a number of clients by their superior judgment, and eloquence ; but still more so by their ex- tensive interest and popularity. But the writ- ten speeches of Pompeius (though it must be owned they have rather an antiquated air) dis- cover an amazing sagacity, and are very far from being dry and spiritless. To these we must add P. Crassus, an orator of uncommon merit, who was qualified for the profession by the united efforts of art and na- ture, and enjoyed some other advantages which were almost peculiar to his family. For he had contracted an affinity with that accom- plished speaker Servius Galba above-mention- ed, by giving his daughter in marriage to Galba's son : and being likewise himself the son of Mucins, and the brother of P. Scsevola, he had a fine opportunity at home (which he made the best use of) to gain a thorough £ 4 knowledge knowledge of the civil law. He was a man of unusual application, and was much beloved by his fellow-cilizens; being constantly employ- ed either in giving his advice, or pleading causes in the forum. Contemporary with the speakers I have mentioned were the two C. Fannii, the sons of C. and M. one of whom, (the son of C.) who was joint consul with Domitius, has left us an excellent speech against Gracchus, who proposed the admission of the Latin and Italian allies to the freedom of Rome. Do you really think, then, said Atticus, that Fannius was the author of that oration ? For when we were young, there were different opinions about it. Some asserted it was written by C. Persius, a man of letters, and much extolled for his learning by Luci- lius: and others believed it the joint produc- tion of a number of noblemen, each of whom contributed his best to complete it. This I remember, said I ; but I could never persuade myself to coincide with either of them. Their suspicion, I believe, was entirely founded on the character of Fannius, who was only reckoned among the middling orators; where- as the speech in question is esteemed the best which the time afforded. But, on the other hand, w 57 hand, it is too much of a piece to have been the mingled composition of many: for the flow of the periods, and the turn of the lan- guage, are perfectly similar, throughout the whole of it. — and as to Persius, if he had composed it for Fannius to pronounce, Grac* chus would certainly have taken some notice of it in his reply ; because Fannius rallies Gracchus pretty severely, in one part of it, for employing Menelaus of Marathon, and several others, to compose his speeches. We may add that Fannius himself was no con- temptible orator : for he pleaded a number of causes, and his tribuneship, which was chiefly conducted under the management and direc- tion of P. Africanus, exhibited much oratory. But the other C. Fannius^ (the son of M.) and son-in-law of C. La^lius, was of a rougher cast, both in his temper and manner of speak- ing. By the advice of his father-in-law, (of whom, by the bye, he was not remarkably fond, because he had not voted for his admis- sion into the college of augurs, but gave the preference to his younger son-in-law Q. Scae- vola ; though L^lius politely excused himself, by saying that the preference was not given to the youngest son, but to his wife the eldest daughter,) m 38 daughter,) by his advice, I say, he attended the lectures of Pana^tius. His abilities as a speaker may be easily inferred from his history, which is neither destitute of elegance, nor a perfect model of composition. As to his bro- ther Mucius, the augur, whenever he was called upon to defend himself, he always pleaded his own cause ; as, for instance, in the action which was brought against him for bribery by T. Albucius. But he was never ranked among the orators ; his chief merit being a critical knowledge of the civil law, and an uncommon accuracy of judgment. L. Cselius Antipater, hkewise (as you may see by his works), was an elegant and a perspicuous writer for the time he lived in ; he was also an excellent lawyer, and taught the principles of jurisprudence to many others, particularly to L. Crassus. As to Caius Carbo and T. Gracchus, I wish they had been as well inclined to maintain peace and good order in the state, as they were qualified to sup|)ort it by their eloquence : their glory would then have never been ex- celled. But the latter, for his turbulent tri- buneship, which he entered upon with a heart full of resentment against the great and good, on account of the odium he had brought upon himself 59 himself by the treaty of Numantia, was slain by the hands of the republic : and the other, being impeached of a seditious aifectation of popularity, rescued himself from the severity of the judges by a voluntary death. That both of them were excellent speakers, is very plain from the general testimony of their con- temporaries : for as to their speeches now ex- tant, though I allow them to be very skilful and judicious, they arc certainly defective iu elocution, Gracchus had the advantaire of being carefully instructed by his mother Cor- nelia from his very childhood, and his mind was enriched with all the stores of Grecian literature : for he was constantly attended by the ablest masters from Greece, and particular- ly, in his youth, by Diophanes of Mitylene, who w^as the most eloquent Grecian of his age : but though he was a man of uncommon genius, he had but a short time to improve and display it. As to Carbo, his whole life was spent in trials, and forensic debates. He is said, by very sensible men who heard him, and, among others, by our friend L. Gellius, who lived in his family in the time of his con- sulship, to have been a sonorous, a fluent, and a spirited speaker, and likewise, upon occasion, 52 very t t - s. t \ i 60 very pathetic, very engaging, and excessively humorous: Gellius used to add, that heap- plied himself very closely to his studies, and bestowed much of his time in vrriting and pri- vate declamation. He was, therefore, esteem- ed the best pleader of his time ; for no sooner had he began to distinguish himself in the forum, but the depravity of the age gave birth to a number of law-suits ; and it was first found necessary, in the time of his youth, to settle the form of public trials, which had never been done before. We accordingly find that L. Piso, then a tribune of the people, was the first who proposed a law against bribery . which he did when Censorinus and Manilius were consuls. This Piso too was a professed pleader, who moved and opposed a great number of laws : he left some orations behind him, which are now lost, and a book of annals very indifferently written. But in the public trials, in w^hich Carbo was concerned, the as- sistance of an able advocate had become more necessary than ever, in consequence of the law for voting by ballots, which was proposed and carried by L. Cassius, in the consulship of Le- pidus and Mancinus. I have likewise been often assured by the poet 61 poet Attius, (an intimate friend of his) that your ancestor D. Brutus, the son of M. was no inelegant speaker ; and that for the time he lived in, he was well versed both in the Greek and Roman literature. He ascribed the same ac- complishments to Q. Maximus, the grandson of L. Paulus : and added that, a little prior to Maximus, the Scipio, by whose instigation (though only in a private capacity) T. Grac- chus was assassinated, was not only a man of great ardour in all other respects, but very warm and spirited in his manner of speaking. P. Lcntulus too, the Father of the senate, had a sufficient share of eloquence for an honest and useful magistrate. About the same time L. Furius Philus was thought to speak our language as elegantly, and more correctly than any other man ; P. Scsevola to be very acute and judicious, and rather more fluent than Philus ; M. Manilius to possess almost an equal share of judgment with the latter ; and Appius Claudius to be equally fluent, but more warm and pathetic. M. Fulvius Flaccus, and C. Cato the nephew of Africanus, were like- wise tolerable orators: some of the writings of Flaccus are still in being, in which nothing, however, is to be seen but the mere scholar, P Deciu^ 62 €3 P. Decius was a professed rival of Flaccus ; he too was not destitute of eloquence ; but his style was too bold, as bis temper was too vio- lent. M. Drusus, the son of C. who, in liis tribuneship, baffled^ his colleague Gracchus (then raised to the same otTice a second time) was a nervous speaker, and a man of great po- pularity : and next to him was his brother C. Drusus. Your kinsman also, my Brutus, (M. Pennus) successfully opposed the tribune Gracchus, who was something younger than himself. For Gracchus was quaestor, and Pennus (the son of that M. who was joint consul with Q. iElius) was tribune, in the consulship of M. Lepidus and L. Orestes: but after enjoying the a^dileship, and a prospect of succeeding to the highest honours, he was snatched off by an untimely death. As to T. Flaminius, whom I myself have seen, I can learn nothing but that he spoke our language with great accuracy. To ^Baffled.'] In the original it runs, Caium Gracchum collc^ ^am^ iteriim Trihiimim^ fecit : but this was undoubtedly a mistake of the transcriber, as being contrary not only to the truth of History, but. to Cicero's own account of the matter in Lib. IV. De Finibas, Pighius therefore has very properly recomnieuded the wotiXfre^U instead of fecit. To these we may join C. Curio, M. Scaurus, P. Rutilius, and C. Gracchus. It will not be amiss to give a short account of Scaurus and Rutilius ; neither of w^hom, indeed, had the reputation of being a first-rate orator, though each of them pleaded a number of causes. But some deserving men, who were not remarkable for their genius, may be justly commended for their industry ; not that the persons I am speaking of were really destitute of genius, but only of that particular kind of it which dis- tinguishes the orator. For it is of little con- sequence to discover w^hat h proper to be said, unless you are able to express it in a free and agreeable manner : and even that will be in- sufficient, if not recommended by the voice, the look, and the gesture. It is needless to add that much depends upon art : for though, even without this, it is possible, by the mere force of nature, to say many striking things ; yet, as they will after all be nothing more than so many lucky hits, we shall not be able to repeat them at our pleasure. The style of Scaurus, who was a very sensible and honest man, was remarkably grave, and commanded the respect of the hearer : so that when he was speaking for his client, you would rather have thought t I 64 thought he was giving evidence in his favour, than pleading his cause. This manner of speak- ing, however, tliough but indifferently adapted to the bar, was very much so to a calm debate in the senate, of which Scaurus was then esteemed the father : for it not only bespoke his prudence, but what was still a more im- portant recommendation, his credibihty. This advantage, which it is not easy to acquire by art, he derived entirely from nature : though you know that even here we have some pre- cepts to assist us. We have several of his orations still extant, and three books inscribed to L. Fufidius, containing the history of his own life, which, though a very useful work, is scarcely read by any body. But the Institution of Cyrus, by Xenophon, is read by every one ; which, though an excellent performance of the kind, is much less adapted to our manners and form of government, and not superior in merit to the honest simplicity of Scaurus. Fufidius himself was likewise a tolerable pleader. But Rutilius was distinguished by his solemn and austere way of speaking ; and both af them were naturally warm, and spirited. Ac- cordingly, after they had rivalled each other for the consulship, he who had lost his election, immediately G5 immediately sued his competitor for bribery ; and Scaurus, the defendant, being honourably acquitted of the charge, returned the compli- ment to Rutilius, by commencing a similiar prosecution against him. Rutilius was a man of great industry and application ; for which he was the more respected, because, besides his pleadings, he undertook the office, (which was a very troublesome one) of giving advice to all 'who applied to him, in matters of law. His orations are very dry, but his juridical remarks are excellent : for he was a learned man, and^ well versed in the Greek literature, and was likewise an attentive and constant hearer of Pan^tius, and a thorough proficient in the doc- trine of the Stoics ; whose method of discours- ing, though very close and artful, is too pre — cise, and not at all adapted to engage the at- tention of common people. That self-confi- dence, therefore, which is so peculiar to the sect, was displayed by him with amazing firm- ness and resolution ; for though he was per- fectly innocent of the charge, a prosecution was commenced against him for bribery, (a trial which raised a violent commotion in the city) '—and yet though L. Crassus and M. Antonius, both of consular dignity, wxre, at that time, in Vol. II. F very ^ t l*f 66 67 '^^f very higli repute for their eloquence, he refus- ed the assistance of either; heing dcterniinecl to plead his cause himself, which he accordingly did. C. Cotta, indeed, who was his nephew, made a short speech in his vindication, which he spoke in the true style of an orator, though lie was then but a youth. Q. Mucins too said much in his defence, with his usual accu- racy and elegance ; but not with that force, and extension, which the mode of trial, and the importance of the cause demanded, llutilius, therefore, was an orator of the Stoical, and Scaurus of the Antique cast : but they are both entitled to our commendation ; because, in them, even this formal and unpromising species of elocution has appeared among us with some degree of merit. For as in the the- atre, so in the foium, I would not have our ap- plause confined to those alone who act the busy, and more important characters; but re- serve a share of it for the ([uiet and unambi- tious performer, who is distinguished by a simple truth of gesture, without any violence. As I have mentioned the Stoics, I must take some notice of Q. iElius Tubero, the grandson of L. Paullus, who made his appearance at the time we are speaking of. He was never esteem- ed cd an orator, but was a man of the most risid virtue, and strictly conformable to the doctrine he professed : but, in truth, he had not sutB- cient ease and polish. In his Triumvirate, he declared, contrary to the opinion of P. Afri- canus his uncle, that the augurs had no right of exemption from sitting in the courts of jus- tice : and as in his temper, so in his manner of speaking, he was harsh, unpolished, and au- stere ; on which account, he could never raise himself to the honourable posts which were en- joyed by his ancestors. But he was a brave and steady citizen, and a warm opposer of Gracchus, as appears from Gracchus's oration against him : we have likewise some of Tube- rous speeches against Gracchus. He was not indeed a shining orator : but he was a learned, and a very skilful disputant. I find, said Brutus, that the case is much the same among us, as with the Greeks ; and that the Sigigg*---' in general, are very judicious at an argument^, which they conduct by certain rules of art, ^ and are likewise very neat and exact in their/ language, but if we take them from this, toj speak in public, they make aj^oor appearance.^ Cato, however, must be excepted; 1h whom^ though as rigid a Stoic as ever existed, I could F 3 not m 68 not wish for a more consummate degree of elo- quence. I can likewise discover a moderate share of it in Fannius, — not so much in Ruti- lius ; — but none at all in Tubero, True, said I ; and we may easily account for it : their whole attention was so closely confined to the study of logic, that they never troubled them- selves to acquire the free, diifusive, and varie- gated style which is so necess^y for a public speaker. But your uncle, you doubtless know, was Avise enough to borrow only that from the Stoics, which they were able to furnish for his purpose (the art of reasoning ;) but for the art of^s^e^ting, he had recourse to the masters of rhetoric, and exercised himself in the manner they directed. If, however, we must be indebt- ed for every thing to the philosophers, the Pe- ripatetic discipline is, in my mind, much the properest to form our language. For which reason, my Brutus, I the more approve your choice, in attaching yourself to a sect, (I mean the philosophers of the old academy,) in whose system, a just and accurate way of reasoning is enlivened by a perpetual sweetness and Tluency of expression : but even the delicate and flowing style of the Peripatetics, and aca- demics, is not sufficient to complete an orator; nor 69 tior yet can he be complete without it. For as the language of the Stoics is too close, and con- tracted, to suit the ears of common people ; so that of the latter is too diffusive and luxu- riant for a spirited contest in the forum, or a pleading at the bar. Who had a richer style than Plato ? The philosophers tell us, that if Jupiter himself was to converse in Greek, he would speak like /iim. Who also was more nervous than Aristotle ? Who sweeter than Theophrastus ? We are told that even De- mosthenes attended the lectures of Plato, and was fond of reading what he published ; which, indeed, is sufficiently evident from the turn, and the majesty of his language ; and he himself has expressly mentioned it in one of his letters. But the style of this excellent orator is, notwithstanding, much too violent for the academy ; as that of the philosophers is too mild and placid for the forum. I shall now, with your leave, proceed to the age and merits of the rest of the Roman ora- tors. Nothing, said Atticus, (for I can safely answer for my friend Brutus,) would please us better. Curio, then, said I, was nearly of the age I have just mentioned, — a celebrated speaker, whose genius may be easily ascer- F $ tained 70 tained from his orations. For, among several others, we have a nohle speech of his for Ser. Fulvius, in a prosecution for incest. When we were children, it was esteemed the hest then txtant ; but now it is ahnost overlooked among the numerous performances of the same kind which have been lately published. I am very sensible, replied Brutus, to whom we are obliged for the numerous performances you speak of And I am equally sensible, said I, who is the person you intend : i'or I have at least done a service to my young countrymen, by introducing a loftier, and more embellished way of speaking, than was used before : and, perhaps, I have also done some harm, becausef after 7ni)ie appeared, the speeches of our ances- tors and predecessors began to be neglected by most people; tliough never by me, for I qan assure you, I always prefer them to my own. But you must reckon me, said Brutus, among the 77iost people ; though I now sec, from your recommendation, that I have a great many books to read, of which before I had very little opinion. But this celel)rated oration, said I, in the prosecution for incest, is in some places excessively puerile ; and what is said in it of the passion of love, the inefiicacy of questioning 71 questioning by tortures, and the danger of trusting to common hear-say, is indeed pretty enouo-h, but would be insuiferable to the chas- tenedears of the moderns, and to a people who are justly distinguished for the solidity of their knowledge. He likewise wrote several other pieces, spoke a number of good orations, and was certainly an eminent pleader ; so tliat I much wonder, considering how long he lived, and the character he bore, that he was never preferred to the consulship. But I have a man here, ^ (C. Gracchus) who had an amazing genius, and of the most ardent application ; and was a scholar from his very childhood : for you must not imagine, my Brutus, that we have ever yet had a speaker, whose language was richer and more copious than his. I really think so, answered Brutus ; and he is almost the only author we have, amono-thc ancients, that I take the trou- ble to read. And he well deserves it, said I ; F 4 for e He refers, perhaps, to the works of Gracchus, which he might then have in his hand; or, more probably, to a statue of him, which stood near the place where he and his friends wcr« sitting. 72 for the Roman name and literature were great losers by his untimely fate. I wish he had transferred his affection for his brother to his country ! How easily, if he had thus prolong- ed his life, would he have rivalled the gjory of his father and grandfather ! ^n eloquence, I scarcely know whether we should yet have had his equal. His language was noble ; his senti- ments manly and judicious\: and his whole manner great and striking. He wanted no- thing but the finishing touch : for though his first attempts were as excellent as they were numerous, he did not live to complete them. In short, my Brutus, he, if any one, should be carefully studied by the Koman youth : for he is able, not only to sharpen, but to enrich and ripen their talents. After km appeared C. G al- ba, the son of the eloquent Servius, and the son-in-law of P. Crassus, who was both an eminent speaker, and a skilful civilian. He was much commended by our fathers, who re- spected him for the sake of his : but he had the misfortune to be stopped in his career. For being tried by tlie Mamilian law, as a party concerned in the conspiracy to support Jugur- tha, though he exerted all his abilities to de- fend himself, he was unhappily condemned. His 73 His peroration, or, as it is often called, his epi- logue, is still extant ; and was so much in re- pute, when we were school-boys, that we used to learn it by heart : he was the first member of the Sacerdotal College, since the building of Rome, who was publicly tried and condemned^ As to P. Scipio, who died in his consulship, he neither spoke much, nor often : but he was inferior to no one in purity of language, and superior to all in wit and pleasantry. His col- league L. Bestia, who begun his tribuneship very sucessfully, (for, by a law which he pre- ferred for the purpose, he procured the recall of Popillius, who had been exiled by the influence of Caius Gracchus) was a man of spirit, and a tolerable speaker : but he did not finish his consulship equally happy. For, in consequence of the invidious law of Mamilius above-men- tioned, C. Galba, one of the priests, and the four consular gentlemen L. Bestia, C. Cato, Sp. Albinus, and that excellent citizen L. Opi- mius, who killed Gracchus, of which he was acquitted by the people, though he had con- stantly sided against them,— were all condemn- ed by their judges, who were of the Gracchan party. Very unlike him in his tribuneship, and indeed in every other part of his life, was that infamous i 74 75 ■ hlfamolis citizen C. Licinius Nerva; but he was not destitute of eloquence. Nearly at the same time, (though, indeed, he was somewhat older) flourished C. Fimbria, who was rather rougli and abusive, and much too warm and hasty : but his application, and his great m- tegrity and firmness, made him a serviceable speaker in the senate. lie was likewise a to- lerable pleader, and civilian, and distinguished by the same rigid freedom in tlie turn of his language, as in that of his virtues. When wc were boys, we used to think his orations worth reading ; though they arc now scarcely to be met with. But C. Scxtius Calvinus was equally elegant, both in his taste and his lan- guage, though unhajjpily, of a very infirm con- stitution : — when the pain in his feet intermit- ted, he did not decline the trouble of pleading, but he did not attempt it very often. Ilis fel- low-citizens, therefore, made use of his advice, whenever they had occasion for it ; but of his patronage, only when his health permitted. Contemporary with these, my good friend, was your namesake ]\I. l>rutus, the disgrace of your noble family ; who, though he bore that honour- able name, and had the best of men, and an emi- nent civilian, fur hi$ father, confined his prac- tice tlce to accusations, as Lycurgus is said to have done at Athens. He never sued for any of our magistracies ; but was a severe, and a trou- blesome prosecutor : so that we easily see that, in him, the natural goodness of the stock was corrupted by the vicious inclinations of the man. At the same time lived L. Caesulenus, a man of Plebeian rank, and a professed accuser, like the former : I myself heard him in his old age, when he endeavoured, by the Aquilian law, to subject L. Sabellius to a fine, for a breach of justice. But I should not have taken any notice of such a low-born wretch, if I had not thought that no person I ever heard, could give a more suspicious turn to the cause of the defendant, or exaggerate it to a higher degree of criminality. T. Albucius, who lived in the same age, was well versed in the Grecian Uterature, or, rather, was almost a Greek himself. I speak of him, as I think ; but any person, who pleases, may judge what he was by his orations. In his youth, he studied at Athens, and returned from thence a thorough proficient in the doctrine of Epicurus ; which, of all others, is the least adapt- ed to form an orator. His contemporary, Q. Catulus, was an accomplished speaker, not in the ™' 76 the ancient taste, but (unless any thing more perfect can be exhibited) in the finished style of the moderns. He had copious stores of learnings an eiisy, winning elegance, not only in his manners and disposition, but in his very language; and an unblemished purity and correctness of style. This may be easily seen by his orations ; and particularly, by the His- tory of his Consulship, and of his subsequent transactions, which he composed in the soft and agreeable manner of Xcnophon, and made a present of to the poet A. Fui-ius, an intimate acquaintance of his. But this per- formance is as little known, as the three books of Scaurus before-mentioned. Indeed, I must confess, said Brutus, that both the one and the other, are perfectly unknown to me : but that is entirely my oxer? fault. I shall now, there- fore, request a sight of them from you ; and am resolved, in future, to be more careful in collecting such valuable curiosities. This Ca- tulus, said I, as I have just observed, was distin- guishecf by the purity of his language ; which, though a material accomplishment, is too much neglected by most of the Roman orators : for as to the elegant tone of his voice, and the sweetness of his accent, as you knew his son, 2 it 77 it will be needless to take any notice of them. His son, indeed, was not in the list of orators : but whenever he had occasion to deliver his sentiments in public, he neither w^anted judg- ment, nor a neat and liberal turn of expression. Nay, even the father himself was not reckoned the foremost in the rank of orators ; but stili he had that kind of merit, that notwithstand- ing, after you had heard two or three speakers, who were particularly eminent in their profes- sion, you might judge him inferior ; yet, when- ever you heard him alone^ and without an im- mediate opportunity of making a comparison, you would not only be satisfied with him, but scarcely wish for a better advocate. As to Q. MetuUus Numidicus, and his colleague M. Si- lanus, they spoke, on matters of government, with as much eloquence as was really necessary for men of their illustrious character, and of con- sular dignity. But M. Aurelius Scaurus, though lie spoke in pubHc but seldom, always spoke very neatly, and he had a more elegant com- mand of the Roman language than most men* A. Albinus was a speaker of the same kind ;^ but Albinus, the flamen, was esteemed an qjcmj^ tar. Q. Capio too had a great deal of spirit, and was a brave citizen ; but the unlucky chance i J* 78 chance of war was imputed to him as a crime, and the general odium of the people proved his ruin. C, and L. Mcmmius were likewise indiffer- ent orators, and distinguished by the bitter- ness and asperity of their accusations: for they prosecuted many, but seldom spoke for the defendant. Sp. Torius, on the other hand, was distinguished by his popular way of speaking ; the very same man, who, by his corrupt and frivolous law, diminished^ the taxes which were levied on the public lands. IVI. Marcellus, the father of /Eserninus, though not reckoned a professed [)leader, was a prompt, and, in some degree, a practised speaker ; as was also his son P. Lentulus. L. Cotta like- wise, a man of prnetorian rank, was esteemed a_toki:abl£L- Jiiajtor ; but he never made any great progress ; on the contrary, he purposely endeavoured, both in the choice of his words, and the rusticity of his pronunciation, to imi- tate the manner of the ancients. I am indeed sensible that in this instance of Cotta, and in many others, I have, and shall again insert in the * V^y Ui?iding great part of them among the people. 79 the list of orators, those who, in rcafity, had but little claim to the' character. For it was, professedly, my design, to collect an account of all the Romans, without exception, who made it their business to excel in the profes- sion of 6;%i/e;?cr ; and it may be easily seen from this account, by what slow gradations they advanced, and how excessively diificult it is, in every thing, to rise to the summit of perfection. As a proof of this, how many orators have been already recounted, and how much time have we bestowed upon them, be- fore we could ascend, after infinite fatigue and drudo-ery, as, amons^ the Greeks, to Demos- theiies and Hijpcndes, so now, among our own countrymen, to Antonius and Crassus ! •For, in my mind, these were consummate ora- tors, and the first among the Romans whose diffush^^^ rjvalk4-~tlie glory of the Greeks. Antonius^ comprehended every thing which could be of service to his cause, and he arrang- ed his materials in the most advantageous order: and as a skilful general posts the caval- ry, the infantry, and the light troops, where each of them can act to most advantage ; so Antonius drew up his arguments in those parts Of I -^^ 80 of his discourse, where they M^ere likely to have the best effect. He had a quick and re- tentive memory, and a frankness of manner which precluded any suspicion of artifice. All his speeches were, in appearance, the unpreme- ditated effusions of an honest heart ; and yet, in reality, they \yere preconcerted with so much skill, that the judges were, sometimes, not so well prepared, as they should have been, to withstand the force of them. His lan- guage, indeed, was not so refined as to pass for the standard of elegance ; for which reason he was thought to be rather axMel£SS-_^eaker^ and yet, on the other hand, it was neither vulgar nor incorrect, but of that solid and ju- dicious turn, which constitutes the real merit of an orator, as to the choice of his words^ For, though a purity of style is certainly, as has been observed, a very commendable qua- lity, it is not so much so for its intrinsic con- sequence, as because it is too generally neg- lected. In short, it is not so meritorious to speak our native tongue correctly, as it is disgraceful to speak it otherwise; nor is it so much the characteristic of a good orator, as ofawelUbred citizen. But in the choice of his words (in which he had more regard to their 81 their weight tlian their brilliance) and likewise in the structure of his language, and the com- pass of his periods, Antonius conformed him- self to the dictates of reason, and, in a great measure, to the nicer rules of art : thougli his -^chief excellence was a judicious management of the figures and decorations of sentiment! This was likewise the distinguishing excellence of Demosthenes; in v took care to furnish himself with sulficicnt eloquence to support the character of an able civilian. Besides your age corresponded as nearly to his, as the age of Crassus did to that of Sccevola. As to my own abilities, said I, the rules of decency forbid me to speak of them : but your character of Servlus is a very just one, and I may freely tell you what I tl/mk of him. There are few, I believe, who have applied themselves more assiduously to thr art of speaking than he did, or indeed to the study of every useful science. In our youth, we both of us followed the same liberal exer- ciii^s; and he afterwards accompanied me -taJlliad.es, to pursue those studies which miglit equally improve him as a man and a scholar; but when he returned from thence he apj)ears to me to have been rather ambitious of being the foremost man in a secondary profession, than the second in that which claims the highest dignity. I will not pretend to say that he could not have ranked himself among the first in the latter profession ; but he rather 3 chose 87 chose to be, what he actually made Wmself, the first lawyer of his time. Indeed I said Brutus : and do you really prefer Servius to Q. Scfcvola ? My opinion, said I, Brutus, is, that Q. Scixjvola, and many others, had a thorough practical kn^^^^^^ but that Servius alone understood it as a science: which he could never have done by the mere study of the law, and without a previous acquaintance with the art which teaclics us to divide a whole hito its subordi- nate parts, to explain mi indeterminate idea by an accurate definition : to illustrate what is obscure, by a clear interpretation ; and first to discover what things are of a doubtful nature, then to distinguish theni^y their different degrees of probability; ^nd lastly to be provided with a certain rule or measure by which we may judge what is true, and what false, and what inferences fairly may, or may not be deduced from any given pre- mises.\ This important art he api>Jied to those subjects which, for want of it, were neces- sarily managed by others without due order and precision. You mean, I suppose, said Brutus, the art -of logic. You suppose very right, answered G4 I- * 83 I: but lie added to it an exlonsivc acquaint- ancc uith polite literature, and- an clco-ant manner of expressin-l.imsclf; as is .sufficientiv evident from the incomparable writings he has left behind him. And as he attached himself, for the improvement of his elorp.encc, to L. Lucilius IJaibus, and C. Aquilius Callus, two very able speakers ; he effectually thu-art-' cd the prompt celerity of the latter (though a keen, experienced man) both in supporting and refutiug a charge, by his accuracy and precision, and overpowered the deliberate for- mality of Balbus (a man of great learning and erudition) i)y his adroit an.l dextrou^ method of arguing: so tliat he equally pos- sessed the good qualities of both, without thur defects. As Crassus, therefore, in my mind, acted more prudently than Scjcvola; (for the latter was very fond of pleading causes, m which he was certainly inferior to Crassus; whereas the former never engaged himself in an unequal competition with Sat>vola, by as- suming the character of a civilian ;) so Servius pursued a plan which sufiicicntlv discovered Ins wisdom ; for as the profession^of a pleader, and a lawyer, are both of them lield in great esteem, and give those who are master's of them 89 them the aiost extensive influence aniona* their fellow-citizens ; he accniired an undis- puted superiority in the one, and improved himself as much in the other as was necessary to support tlie authority of the civil law, and promote him to the dignity of a consul. This is precisely the opinion I had formed of him, said Brutus. For, a few years ago I heard him often, and very attentively, at Samos, when I wanted to be instructed by him iu the pontifical law, as far as it is connected with the civil ; and I am now gi^eatly confirm- ed in my opinion of him, by finding that it coincides so exactly with yoin's. I am likewise not a little pleased to observe, that the equality of your ages, your sharing the same honours and preferments, and the afl[inity of your respective studies and professions, has been so far from precipitating either of you into that envious detraction of the other's merit, which most people are tormented with, thatj instead of interrupting your mutual friend- ship, it has only served to increase and strengthen it ; for, to my own knowledge, he had the same affection for, and the same favourable sentiments of yoUy which I now discover in you towards him, I cannot, therefore I \ so therefore, help regretting very sincerely, that the Roman state has so long been deprived of the benefit of his advice, and of your eloquence ; — a circumstance which is indeed calamitous enough in itself; but must appear much more so to him who considers into what hands that once respectable authori- • ty has been of late, I will not say transferred, but forcibly wrested. You certainly forget, said Atticus, that I proposed, uhen we began the conversation, to drop all matters of ^sLite; by all means, therefore, let us keep to our plan : for if we once begin to repeat /our grkj.:*mrr5, there will be no end, I need 'not say to our enquiries, but to our sighs and lamentations. Let us proceed, then, said I, without any farther digression, and pursue the plan we set out upon. Cxaiisiis (for he is the orator we were just speaking of) always came into the forum ready prepared for the combat. He was expected with impatience, and heard with pleasure. When he first began his ora- tion (which he always did in a very accurate style) he seemed worthy of the great expect- ations he had raised. He was very moderate in the movements of his bodv, had no remark- able 91 able variation of voice, never advanced fi'oni the ground he stood upon, and seldom stamp* ed his foot : his language was forcible, and sometimes warm and pathetic ; he had many strokes of humour, which were always temper- ed with a becoming dignity; aud, what is difficult to attain, he was at once very florid, and very concise. In a close contest, he never met with his equal ; and there was scarcely any kind of causes, in which he had not signalized his abilities; so that he enrolled himself very early among the first orators of the time. He accused C. Carbo, though a man of great eloquence, when he was but a youth; and displayed his talents in such a manner, that they were not only applauded, but admired by every body. He afterwards defended the Virgin Licinia, when he was only twenty-seven years of age; on which occasion he discovered an uncommon share of elocpience, as is evident from those parts of his oration, which he left behind him in writing. As he was then desirous to have the honour of settling the colony of Narbonne (as he afterwards did) he thought it adviseable to recommend himself, by under- takint*- the management of some popular cause. His f lis oration, m support of the act which wa5 proposed ibr that purpose, is still extant ; and fliscovei. a greater maturity of genius than inigljt have been expected at that time of life. He afterwards pleaded many other causes : but his tribuneship was so remarkably silent, that if he had not supped with Granius the beadle when he enjoyed that oJlice (a circumstance which lias been twice mention- ed by Luciiius) we should scarcely have known that a tribune of that name had ex- isted. I believe so, replied Brutus; but I have heard as little of the tribuneship of SciEvola, though I must naturally suppose that he was the colleagne of Crassus. He was so, said I, in all his other preferments; but he was not tribune till the year after him ; and when he sat in the rostrum in that capacity, Crassus spoke in support of the Scr\ ilian law. I must observe, however, that Crassus had not Sca^vola for his colleague in the censorship ; for none of the Sca3volas ever solicited that oftice. But when the last- mentioned nration of Crassus was published (wluch 1 d.iiL- say you have frequently read) he was thiity-four years of age, uhJch was exactly tht difference between his age and mine. 93 'mine. For he supported the law I have just been speaking of, in the very consulship under which I was born ; whereas he liimself was born in the consulsliip of Q. Ca^pio and C. Lae- hus, about three years later than Antonius, I have particularly noticed this circumstance, to specify the time when the Roman eloquence at- tained its first inaturiti/ ; and was actually car- ried to such a degree of perfection, as to leave no room for any one to carry it liigher, unless — by the assistance of a more complete and exten- sive knowledge of .philosophy, jurisprudence, and history. But does there, said Brutus, or will there ever exist.ajiianj^ whojs^m^ ed accomplishments you require ? I really do not know, said I ; but we have a speech made by Crassus in his consulship, in praise of Q. Csepio, intermingled with a defence of his conduct, which, though a short one if we con* sider it as an oration, is not so as a panegyric ; • — and another, which was his last, and which he spoke in the 48th year of his age, at the time he was censor. In these we have the genuine complexion of eloquence, w^ithout any paints ing or disguise : but his periods (I mean those of » t S-i of Crassus) were generally short and concise ; and he was fond of expressing himself in those minuter sentences, or members, which the ^ Greeks call colons. As you have spoken so largely, said Brutus, in praise of the two last- mentioned orators, I heartily wish that Anto- nius had left us some other specimen of his abilities, than his trifling essay on the art of speaking, and Crassus more than he has : by so doing, they would have transmitted their fame toposteriti/, and to us a valuable system of eloquence. For as to the elegant language of Sccevola, we have sufficient proofs of it in the orations he has left behind him. For my part, said I, the oration I was speaking of, on Cx- pio's case, has been a model which served to instruct me, from my very childhood. It sup- ports the dignity of the senate, which was deeply interested in the debate ; and excites the jealousy of the audience against the party of the judo-es and accusers, whose power it was necessary to expose in the most popular terms. ]\Iany parts of it are very strong and nervous, many others very cool and composed ; and some are distinguished by the asperity of their language, and not a few by their wit and plea- santry : but much more was said then v/as committed 95 committed to writing, as is sufficiently evident from several heads of the oration, which are merely proposed without any enlargement or explanation. But the oration in his censorship against his colleague Cn. Domitius, is not so much an oration, as an analysis of the subject, or a general sketch of what he had said, with here and there a few ornamental touches, by way of specimen : for no contesf^was ever con- ducted with greater spirit than this. Crassus, however, was eminently distinguished by the popular turn of his language : but that of An- tonius was better adapted to judicial triafe, than to a public debate. As we have had occasion to mention him, Domitius himself liiust not be left unnoticed: for though he is not enrolled in the list of ora- tors, he had a sufficient share both of utterance and genius, to support his character as a ma- gistrate, and his dignity as a consul. I might likewise observe of C. Calius, that he was a man of great application, and many eminent qualities, and had eloquence enough to support the private interest of his friends, and his own dignity in the state. At the same titne lived AI. Herennius, who w^as reckoned among the middling orators, whose principal merit was the purity If m it 3' f m^ h 96 purity and correctness of their language ; and yet, in a suit for the consulship, he got the better of L, Philippus, a man of the first rank and family, and of the most extensive connec- tions, and who was likewise a member of the college, and a very eloquent si>eaker. 7\hen also lived C. Clodius, who, besides liis conse- quence as a nobleman of the first distinction, and a man of the most powerful influence, was likewise possessed of a moderate share of elo- quence. Nearly of the same age was C. Titius, a Roman knight, who, in my judgment, arriv- ed at as high a degree of perfection as a Roman orator was able to do, without the assistance of the Grecian literature, and a good share of prac- tice. His orations have so manv delicate turns, such a number of well-chosen examples, and iiuch an agreeable vein of politeness, that they almost seem to have been composed in the true attic style. lie likewise transferred his deh- cacies into his tragedies, with ingenuity enough, I confess, but not in the tragic taste. But the poet L. Afranius, whom he studiously imitated, was a very lively writer, and, as you well know, possessed great dramatic eloquence. Q. Rubrius Varro, who with C. Marius, was declared an enemy by the senate, was likewise a warm 97 a warm, and a very spirited prosecutor. My re- lation, M. Gratidius, was a plansible speaker of the same kind, well versed in the Grecian lite- rature, formed by nature for the profession of eloquence, and an intimate acquaintance of M. Antonius : he commanded under him in Cilicia, where he lost his life : and he once commenced a prosecution against C. Fimbria, the father of M. Marius Gratidianus. There have likewise been several among the allies, and the Latins, who were esteemed good orators : as, for instance, Q. Vettius of Vet- tium, one of the Marsi, whom I myself was acquainted with, a man of sense, and a concise speaker ; — the Q. and D. Valerii of Sora, my neighbours and acquaintances, who wxre not so remarkable for their talent of speaking, as for their skill both in the Greek and Roman literature ; and C. Rusticellus of Bononia, an experienced orator, and a man of great natural volubility. But the most eloquent of all those who were not citizens of Rome, was T. Betu- cius Barrus of Asculum, some of whose ora- tions, which were spoken in that city, are still extant : that which he made at Rome against Caspio, is really excellent : the speech which Ccepio delivered in answer to it, was made by Vol. II. U iElius, 98 99 jtlius, who composed a number of orations but pronounced none himself. Eut among those of a remoter date, L. Papirius of Fre- gelte in Latium, who wasahnost contemporary with Ti. Gracchus, was universally esteemed the most eloquent : we have a speech of his iu vindication of the Fregellani, and the Latin colonies, which was delivered before the se- nate. And what then is the merit, said Brutus, which you mean to ascribe to these provincial orators ? What else, replied I, but the very same which I have ascribed to the city- orators ; excepting that their language is not tinctured with the same fashionable delicacy ? What fashionable delicacy do you mean ? said he, I cannot, said T, pretend to define it : I only know that there is such a quality existing. When you go to your province in Gaul, you will be convinced of it. You will there find many expressions which are not current in Rome : but these may be easily changed, and corrected. But what is of greater importance, our orators have a particular accent in their manner of pronouncing, which is more elegant, and has a more agreeable effect than any other. This, however, is not peculiar to the orators, but is equally common to every well-bred citi- zen^ zen. I myself remember tliat T. Tineas, of Placentia, who was a very facetious man, once engaged in raillery with my old friend Q. Gra- nius, the public crier. Do you mean that Gra- nius, said Brutus, of whom Lucilius has related such a number of stories ? The very same, said I : but though Tineas said as many smart things as the other, Granius at last overpower- ed him by a certain vernacular gouty which gave an additional relish to his humour : so that I am no longer surprised at what is said to have happened to Theophrastus, when he enquired of an old woman who kept a stall, what was the price of something which he wanted to purchase. After telling him the value of it, honest strangevy said she, I cannot afford it for less : an answer which nettled him not a little, to think that he who had resided al- most all his life at Athens, and spoke the lan- guage very correctly, should be taken at last for a foreigner. In the same manner, there is, in my opinion, a certain accent as pecuhar to the native citizens of Rome, as the other was to those of Athens. But it is time for us to re- turn home ; I mean to the orators of our own growth. Next, therefore, to the two capital speakers H 2 above* 100 above-mentioned, (that is Crassiis and An- tonius) came L. Philippus, — not indeed till a considerable time afterwards : but still be must be reckoned the next. I do not mean, how- ever, though nobody appeared in the interim who could dispute the prize with him, that he >vas entitled to the second, or even the third post of honour. For as in a chariot-race I can- not properly consider him as either the second or third winner, who has scarcely got clear of the starting-post, before the first has reached the goal ; so, among orators, I can scarcely honour him with the name of a com- petitor, who has been so far distanced by the foremost as hardly to appear on the same ground with him. But yet there Avere certainly some talents to be observed in Diilippus, which any person who considers them, without sub- jecting them to a comparison Vvith the supe- rior merits of the two before-mentioned, must allow to have been respectable. He had an uncommon freedom of address, a large fund of humour, great facility in the invention of his sentiments, and a ready and easy manner of ex- pressing them. He was likewise, for the time he lived in, a great adept in the literature of the Greeks ; and, in the heat of a debate, he could sting, 101 sting, and lash, as well as ridicule his oppo- nents. Almost contemporary with these was L. Gelliusj who was not so much to be valued for his positive, as for his negative merits : for he was neither destitute of learning, nor inven- tion, nor unacquainted with the history and the laws of his country ; besides which, he had a tolerable freedom of expression. But he happened to live at a time when many excel- lent orators made their appearance ; and yet he served his friends upon many occasions to good purpose : in short, his life was so long, that he was successively contemporary with a variety of orators of diftlrent periods, and had an extensive series of practice injudicial causes* Neariy at the same rime lived D. Brutus, who was fellow-consul with Mamercus ;— and was equally skilled both in the Grecian and Roman literature. L. Scipio likewise was not an un- skilful speaker ; and Cnaeus Pompeius, the son ofSextus, had some reputarion as an orator; for his brother Sextus applied the excellent genius he was possessed of, to acquire a tho- rough knowledge of the civil law, and a com- plete acquaintance with geometry and the doc- trine of the stoics. A little before these, M. Brutus, and verv soon after him, C. Bilienus, 11 :] who 102 Avho was a man of great natural capacity, made themselves, by nearly the same application, equally eminent in the profession of the law;— the latter would have been chosen consul, if he had not been thwarted by the repeated promo- tion of Marius, and some other collateral em- barrassments which attended his suit. But the eloquence of Cn. Octavius, which was wholly unknown before his elevation to the consul- ship, was eftcctually displayed, after his prefer- ment to that office, in a great variety of speeches. It is, however, time for us to drop those who were onlv classed in the number of good speakers, and turn our attention to such tis were really orators. I think so too, replied Atticus ; for I un- derstood that vou meant to mvc us an ac- count, not of those who took great pains to be eloquent, but of tliose who were so in reali- ty. C. Julius then, said I, (the son of Lucius) was certainly superior, not only to his prede- cessors, but to all his contemporaries, in wit and humour : he was not, indeed, a nervous and striking orator, but, in the elegance, the pleasantry, and the agreeableness of his manner, he has not been excelled by any man,— - There are some orations of his still extant, in 2 which. 103 which, as well as in his tragedies, we may dis- cover a pleasing tranquillity of expression with very little energy. P. Cethegus, his equal in age, had always enough to say on mat- ters of civil regulation ; for he had studied and comprehended them with the minutest accu- racy ; by which means he acquired an equal authority in the senate with those who had served the office of consul, and though he made no figure inapubhc debate, he was a serviceable veteran in any suit of a private nature. Q. Lucretius Vispillo was an acute speaker, and a good civilian in the same kind of causes: but Osella was better qualified for a publie harangue, than to conduct a judicial process. T. Annius Velina was likewise a man of sense, and a tolerable pleader ; and T. Juven- tius had a great deal of practice in the same ^^ay :— the latter indeed was rather too heavy and unanimated, but at the same time he was keen and artful, and knew how to seize every advantage which was offered by his antago- nist : to which we may add, that he was far from being a man of no literature, but had an extensive knowledge of the civil law. His scho- lar, P. Orbius, who was almost contemporary with me, had no great practice as a pleader ; H4 ^^^ 1D4 lOJ but his skill iii the civil law was in no respect inferior to his master's. As to Titus Aufidius^ who lived to a great age, he was a professed imitator of both ; and was indeed a M'orthy in- offensive tnan ; but he seldom spoke at the bar* His brother, M. Virgilius, who, when he was a tribune of the people, commenced a prosecution against L. Sylla, then advanced to the rank of general, had as little practice as Aufidius. Vir* gilius's colleague, R Magius, was more copious and diffusive. But of all the oratos, or rather tanters, I ever knew, who were totally illiterate and unpolished, and (I might have added) ab- solutely coarse and rustic, the readiest and keenest, were Q. Scrtorius, and C. Gor^vonius, the one of consular, and the other of equestrian rank. T. Junius (the son of L.) who had serv- ed the office of tribune, and prosecuted arid convicted \\ Sextius of bribery, when he was pra^tor elect, was a prompt and an easy speaker: he lived in great splendor, and had a very pro- mising genius ; and, if he had not been of a weak, and indeed a sickly constitution, he would have advanced much farther then he did in the road to preferment. I am sensible, however, that in the account ] have been giving, I have included many who M'ere \^ere neither real, nor reputed orators ; and that I have omitted others, among those of a temoter date, who well deserved not only to have been mentioned, but to be recorded with honour. But this I was forced to do, for want of better information: for what could I say concerning men of a distant age, none of whose productions are now remaining, and of whom no mention is made in the writings of other people? But I have omitted none of those who have fallen within the compass of my own knowledge, or that I myselfremember to have heard. For I wish to make it appear^* that in such a powerful and ancient republic as oursj in which the greatest rewards have been proposed to eloquence, though all have desired to be good speakers, not many have attempted the task, and but very few^ have succeeded^ But I shall give my opinion of every one in such explicit terms, that it may be easily understood whom I consider as a mere declaimer, and whom as an orator. About the same time, or rather somethino; later than the above-mention- ed Julius, but almost contemporary with each other, were C. Cotta, P. Sulpicius, Q. A^arius, Cn. Pomponius, C. Curio, L. Fufius, AI. Dru- sus, and P. Antistius ; for no age whatsoever has \ 105 has been distinguished by a more numerous pro- geny of orators. Of these, Cotta and Sulpicius,. both in my opinion and in that of he pubhc at large, had an evident claim to the preference. But wherefore, interrupted Atticus, do you say, in your own opinion, and in that of the public at large ? (in deciding the merits of an orator, does the opinion of the vulgar, think you, al- ways coincide with that of the learned |^ Or rather docs not one receive the approbation of the populace, while another of a quite opposite character is preferred by those who are better quahfied to give their judgment? You have started a very pertinent question, said I ; but, perhaps, the public at large will not approve my answer to it. And what concern need that give you, rq)lied Atticus, if it meets theappro^ bation of Brutus ? Very true, said I ; for I had rather my ,senti7nenfs on the qualifications of an orator should please you and Brutus, than all the world besides : but as to my eloquence, I should wish this to please every one. [For he who speaks in such a manner as to please the people, must inevitably receive the approbation of the learned JAs to the truth and propriety of what I hear, 1 am indeed to judge of this for myself, as well as I am able ; but the general merit 107 merit of an orator must and will be decidedl by the effects which his eloquence produces^Jy^ For (in my opinion at least) there are three — - thimrs which an orator should be able to effect ; "ciz. to inform his hearers, to please them, and to move their passions^ By what qualities in the speaker each of these effects may be pro- duced, or by what deficiences they are either lost, or but imperfectly performed, is an en- quiry which none but an artist can resolve: but whether an audience is really so affected by an orator as shall best answer his purpose, must be left to their own feelings, and the decision of the public. |The learned there- ^ fore and the people at large, have never dis- • agreed about who was a good orator, and whoJ[ was otherwise. For do you suppose, that while the speakers above-mentioned were in being, they had not the same degree of reputation among the learn- ed as among the populace ? If you had en- quired of one of the latter, rvho was the most eloquent man in the city, he might have hesi- tated whether to say Antonius or Crassus; or this man, perhaps, would have mentioned the one, and that the other. But would any one have given the preference to Philippus, thouh :!,. t 108 though otherwise a smooth, a sensible, and ^ facetious speaker ? — that Philippus whom vve^ who form our judgment upon these matters by rules of art, have decided to have been the next in merit ? Nobody would, I am certain, ^or it is the invariable prerogative of an ac- complished orator, to be reckoned such in the opinion of the peopld^ Though Antigenidas, therefore, the musician, might say to his scholar, who was but coldly received by the public. Play on^ to please one and the Muses ; — *I shall say to my friend Brutus, when lie inounts the rostra, as he frequently docs, — * Play to VIC and the people ; — that those who hear him may be sensible of the effect of his eloquence, while I can likewise amuse myself with remarking the causes which produce it* |\Vhen a citizen hears an able orator, he readily credits what is said ; — he imagines every thing to be true, he believes and relishes the force of it ; and, in short, the persuasive language of the speaker wins his absolute, his hearty assentj You, who are possessed of a critical know- ledge of the art, what more will you require ? The listening multitude is charmed and capti- vated by the force of his eloc^uence, and feels a pleasure which is not to be resisted. What licre 109 here can y- of judgment : whereas a man of taste and erudi- tion, on hearing Scasvola, would have observed that he was really master of a rich and orna- mental style; but if, on comparing the manner in which each of them concluded his cause, it was to be enquired which of the two was the best orator, the decision of the man of learning would not have differed from that of the vulgar. - What advantage, then, it will be said, has the skilful critic over the illiterate hearer? A great and very important advantage; if it is indeed a matter of any consequence, to be able to discover by what means that which is the true and real end of speaking, is either obtained or lost. He has likewise this additional superiority, that when two or more orators, as has frequently happened, have 117 have shared the applauses of the public, he can judge, on a careful observation of the principal merits of each, what is the most perfect cha- racter of eloquence : % s/..«i-|| ters ; — a branch of learning in which he vas succeeded by our friend Varro, a man of ge- nius, and of the most extensive erudition, who afterwards enlarged the plan by many valua- ble collections of his own, and gave a much fuller and more elegant system of it to the pub- lic, ^or iElius himself chose to assume the character of a stoicj and neither aimed to be, nor ever was an orator") but he composed several orations for other people to pronounce ; as for Q. INIetellus, F. Q. Caepio, and Q. Pom- peius Rufus ; though the latter composed those speeches himself which he spoke in his own defence, but not without the assistance of iElius. For I myself was present at the writing of them, in the younger part of my hfe, \vhen I used to attend iElius for the benefit of his in- structions. But I am surprised that Cotta, who was really an excellent orator, and a man of good learning, should be willing that the trifling speeches of iElius should be published to the world as his. To the two above-mentioned, no third per- son of the same age was esteemed an equal : Pomponius, however, w^as a speaker much to my taste ; or, at least, I have very little fault to find with him. But there was no employment for for any in capital causes, excepting for those I have already mentioned ; because Antonius, who was always courted on these occasions, was very ready to give his service ; and Crassus, though not so compilable, generally consented, on any pressing solicitation, to give his. Those who had not interest enough to engage either of these, commonly applied to Philip, or Caesar; but when Cotta and Sulpicius were at liberty, they generally had the preference : so that all the causes in which any honour was to be ac- quired, were pleaded by these six orators. We may add, that trials were not so frequent then as they are at present ; neither did people em- ploy, as they do now^, several pleaders on the same side of the question,— a practice which is attended with many disadvantages. For here- by we are often obliged to speak in reply to those whom w^e had not an opportunity of hearing ; in which case what has been alledged on the opposite side, is often represented to us either falsely or imperfectly ; and besides, it is a very material circumstance, that I myself should be present to see with what countenance my antagonist supports his allegations, and, «till more so, to observe the effect of every part of his discourse upon the audience. And as 4 every f ; i 124 every defence should be conducted upon one uniform plan, nothing can be more improperly contrived, than to recommence it by assigning the peroration, or pathetical part of it, to a second advocate. For every cause can have but one natural introduction and conclusion ; and all the other parts of it, like the members of an animal body, will best retain their proper strength and beauty, when they are regu- larly disposed and connected. We may add, that as it is very difficult in a single oration of any length, to avoid saying something which does not comport with the rest of it so well as it ought to do, how much more difficult must it be to contrive that nothing shall be said, which does not tally exactly with the speech of another person who has spoken before you ? But as it certainly requires more labour to plead a whole cause, than only a part of it, and as many advantageous connections are formed by assisting in a suit in which several persons are interested, the custom, however prepos- terous in itself, has been readily adopted. There were some, however, who esteemed Curio the third best orator of the age; perhaps, because his language was brilliant and pom- pous, and because he had a habit (for which I suppost 125 suppose he was indebted to his domestic edu- cation) of expressing himself with tolerable cor- rectness : for he was a man of very little learn- ing. But it is a circumstance of great impor- tance, what sort of people we are used to con- verse with at home, especially in the more early part of life; and what sort of language we have been accustomed to hear from our tutors and parents, not excepting the mother. We haveall read the letters of Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi ; and are satisfied, that her sons were not so much nurtured in their mother*s lap, as in the elegance and purity of her language. I have often too enjoyed the agreeable conver- sation of Laslia, the daughter of Caius, and observed in her a strong tincture of her father's elegance. I have likewise conversed with his two daughters, the Muciae, and his grand- daughters, the two Licinige, with one of whom (the wife of Scipio) you, my Brutus, I believe, have sometimes been in company, I have, re- plied he, and was much pleased with her con- versation ; and the more so, because she was the daughter of Crassus. And w^hat think you, said I, of Crassus the son of that Licinia, who was adopted by Crassus in his will ? He is said, replied he. to have been a man of great genius ; and 126 127 and the Scipio you have mentioned, who was my colleague, Hkewise appears to me to have been a good speaker, and an elegant companion. Your opinion, my Brutus, said I, is very just. For this family, if I may be allowed the expres- sion, seems to have been the offspring of wis- dom. As to their two grandfathers, Scipio and Crassus, we have taken notice of them al- ready : as we also have of their great grand- fathers, Q. ]\letellus, who had four sons, — P, Scipio, who, when a private citizen, rescued the republic from, the arbitary influence of T. Gracchus, — and Q. Scievohi, the augur, who was the ablest and most affable civilian of his time. And lastly, how illustrious are the names of their next immediate progenitors, P. Scipio, who was twice consul, and was called the darling of the people, — and C. La^lius, who was esteemed the wisest of men ? A generous stock indeed ! cries Brutus, into which the wis- dom of many has been successively ingrafted, like a number of scions on the same tree ! I have likewise a suspicion, replied I, (if we may compare small things with great) that Curio's family, though he himself was left an orphan, was indebted to his father's instruction, and good example, for the habitual purity of their their language : and so much the more, because, of all those who were held in any estimation for their eloquence, I never knew one who was so totally uninformed and unskilled in every branch of liberal science. He had not read a single poet, or studied a single orator ; and he knew Httle or nothing either of public, civil, or common law. We might say almost the same, indeed, of several others, and some of them very able orators, who (we know) were but little acquainted with these useful parts of knowledge ; as, for instance, of Sulpicius and Antonius. But this deficiency was sup- plied in them by an elaborate knowledge of the art of speaking ; and there was not one of them who was totally unqualified in any of the five - principal parts of which it is composed: for whenever this is the case, (and it matters not in which of those parts it happens) it entirely incapacitates a man to shine as an orator. Some, however, excelled in one part, and some in another. Thus Antonius could readily in- vent such arguments as were most in point, and afterwards digest and methodize them to the ^ loyentloQ; dispositioD, clocutioQ, msmory, and pro- nunciatioa. IM 128 the bcbt advantage ; and he could likewise re- tain the plan he had formed with great exact- ness : but his chief merit was the goodness of his delivery, in which he was justly allowed to excel. In some of these qualifications he was upon an equal footing with Crassus, and in others he was superior : but then the language of Crassus was indisputably preferable to his. In the same manner, it cannot be said that either Sulpicius or Cotta, or any other speaker of repute, was absolutely deficient in any one of the five parts of oratory. But we may justly infer from the example of Curio, that nothing will more recommend an orator, than a brilliant and ready flow of expression ; for he was re- markably dull in the invention, and very loose and unconnected in the disposition of his argu- ments. The two remaining parts are pronunciation and memory ; in each of which he was so miserably defective, as to excite the laughter and the ridicule of his hearers. His gesture was really such as C. Julius represented it, in a severe sarcasm, that will never be forgotten ; for as he was swaying and reelinghis whole body from side to side, Julius facetiously enquired who it xvas that was speaking from a boat. To 129 To the same purpose was the jest of Cn. Sici- nius, a man very vulgar, but exceedingly hu- morous, which was the only qualification he had to recommend him as an orator. When this man, as tribune of the people, had sum- moned Curio and Octavius, who were then consuls, into the forum, and Curio had deliver- ed a tedious harangue, while Octavius sat silently by him, wrapt up in flannels, and be- smeared with ointments, to ease the pain of the gout ; Octavius, said he, you are infinitely obliged to your colleague ; for if he had not tossed and flung himself about to-day, in the manner he did^ you xcould certainly have been devoured by the flies. As to his memory, it was so extremely treacherous, that after he had divided his subject into three general heads, he would sometimes, in the course of speaking, either add a fourth, or omit the third. In a ca- pital trial, in which I had pleaded for Titinia, the daughter of Cotta, when he attempted to reply to me in defence oi Serv. Ncevius, he sud- denly forgot every thing he intended to say, and attributed it to the pretended witchcraft, and magic artifices of Titinia. These were un ; doubted proofs of the weakness of his memory. Cut, what is still more inexcusable, he some-? Vol. II. K times h !*i;^ 130 times forgot, even in his written treatises, what he had mentioned but a little before. Thus, in a book of his, in which he introduces him- self as entering into conversation with our friend Pansa, and his son Curio, when he was walking home from the senate-house ; the se- nate is supposed to have been summoned by Caesar in his first consulship ; and the whole conversation arises from the son's enquiry what the house had resolved upon. Curio launches out into a long invective against the conduct of Ccesar, and as is generally the custom in dialogues, the parties are engaged in a close dis- pute on the subject: but very unhappily, though the conversation commences at the breaking up of the senate which Caesar held when he was first consul, the author censures those very actions of the same Caesar, which did not happen till the next, and several other succeeding years of his government in Gaul. Is it possible then, said Brutus, with an air of surprise, that any man, (and especially in a written performance) could be so forgetful as not to discover, upon a subsequent perusal of his own work, what an egregious blunder he had committed ?— Very true, said I ; for if he wrote with a design to discredit the measures which 131 which he represents in such an odious light, nothing could be more stupid than not to com- mence his dialogue at a period which was sub- sequent to those measures. But he so entirely forgets himself, as to tell us, that he did not choose to attend a senate which was held in one of Ca3sars future consulships, in the very same dialogue in which he introduces himself as returning home from a senate which was held in his first consulship. It cannot, therefore, be wondered at, that he who was so remarkably de- fective in a faculty which is the handmaid of our other intellectual powers, as to forget, even in a written treatise, a material circumstance which he had mentioned but a little before, should find his memory fail him, as it generally did, in a sudden and unpremeditated harangue. It accordingly happened, though he had many connections, and was fond of speaking in pub- lic, that few causes were intrusted to his rwa- nagement. But, among his contemporaries, he was esteemed next in merit to the first orators of the age ; and that merely, as I said before, for his good choice of words, and his uncom- mon readiness, and great fluency of expression. His orations, therefore, may deserve a cursory perusal. It is true, indeed, they are much too K C languid ;i languid and spiritless ; but they may yet be of service to enlarge and improve an accomplish- ment, of which he certainly had a moderate share ; and which has so mucli force and efli- cacy, that it gave Curio the appearance and re- putation of an orator, without the assistance of any other good quality. ^ But to return to our subject, — C. Carbo, ot the same age, was likewise reckoned an orator of the second class : he was the son, indeed, of the truly eloquent man before-mentioned, but was far from being an acute speaker himself : he was, however, esteemed an orator. His lan- guage was tolerably nervous, he spoke with ease,— and there was an air of authority m his address that was perfectly natural. But Q, Varius was a man of quicker invention, and, at the same time, had an equal freedom of expres- sion : besides which, he had a bold and spirit- ed delivery, and a vein of elocution which was neither poor, nor coarse and vulgar ; — in short, you need not hesitate to pronounce him an (>rtf-. tor, Cn. Pomponius was a vehement, a rous- incr, and a fierce and eaoer speaker, and more in- clined to act the part of a prosecutor, than ot an advocate. But far inferior to these was L. Fufuis ; though his application was, in some Hieasurc, 133 measure, rewarded by the success of his prose- cution against M. Aquilius. For as to M. Dru- sus, your great uncle, who spoke like an ora- tor only upon matters of government ; — L* Lucullus, wdio was indeed an artful speaker, and your father, my Brutus, who was well ac- quainted with the common and civil law; — ' M. Lucullus, and M. Octavius, the son of Cnseus, who was a man of so much authority and address, as to procure the repeal of Sempro- nius*s corn-act, by the suffrages of a full assem- bly of the people ; — ^Cn. Octavius, the son of Marcus, — and M, Cato, the father, and Q. Catulus, the son ; — we must excuse these (if I may so express myself) from the fotigues and dangers of the field, — that is, from the manage- ment of judicial causes, and place them in garrison over the general interests of the repub- lic, a duty to which they seem to have been sufficiently adequate. I should have assigned the same post to Q. Cicpio, if he had not been so violently attached to the equestrian order, as to set himself at variance with the senate. I have also remarked, that Cn. Carbo, M. Ma- rius, and several others of the same stamp, who would not have merited the attention of an au- dience that had any taste for elegance, w^reex- K 3 tremely ISA tremely well suited to address a tumultuous crowd. In the same class, (if I may be allow- ed to interrupt the series of my narrative) L. Quintius lately made his appearance : though Palicanus, it must be owned, was still better adapted to please the ears of the populace. But, as I have mentioned this inferior kind of speakers, I must be so just to L. ApuleiusSatur- ninus, as to observe that, of all the factious de- claimers since the time of the Gracchi, he was generally esteemed the ablest : and yet he caught the attention of the public, more by his appearance, his gesture, and his dress, than by any real fluency of expression, or even a toler- able share of good sense. But C. Servilius Glaucia, though the most abandoned wretch that ever existed, was very keen and artful, and excessively humorous ; and notwithstand- ing the meanness of his birth, and the depravity of his life, he would have been advanced to the dignity of a consul in his prajtorship, if it had been judged lawful to admit his suit : for the populace were entirely at his devotion, and he had secured the interest of the knights, by an act he had procured in their favour. He was slain in the open forum, while he was praetor, on the same day as the tribune Saturninus, in the 135 the consulship of Marius and Flaccus ; and bore a near resemblance to Hyperbolus, the Athenian, whose profligacy was so severely stigmatized in the old Attic comedies. These were succeeded by Sext. Titius, who was in- deed a voluble speaker, and possessed a ready comprehension ; but he was so loose and effe- minate in his gesture, as to furnish room for the invention of a dance, which was called the Titian jig ; so careful should we be to avoid every peculiarity in oar manner of speaking, which may afterwards be exposed to ridicule by a ludicrous imitation. But we have rambled back insensibly to a period which has been already examined : let us, therefore, return to that which we were re- viewing a little before. Contemporary with Sulpicius was P. Antistius, — a plausible de- claimer, who, after being silent for several years, and exposed, (as he often was) not only to the contempt, but the derision of his hearers, first spoke with applause in his tribuneship, in a real and very interesting protest against the illegal application of C. Julius for the consul- ship : and that so much the more, because though Sulpicius himself, who then happened to be his colleague, spoke oathe same side of K 4 the 136 the debate, Antistins argued more copiouslj^ and to better purpose. This raised his reputa- tion so high, that many, and (soon afterwards) every cause ot* importance, was eagerly recom- mended to his patronage. To speak the truth, he had a quick conception, a methodical judg- ment, and a retentive memory ; and though his language was not mucli embellished, it was very far from being low. In short, his style was- easy and flowing, and his appearance, rather genteel than otherwise : but his action was a little defective, partly through the disa- greeable tone of his voice, and partly by a few ridiculous gestures, of which he could not en- tirely break himself. He flourished in the time between the flight and tlie return of Sylla, wlien the republic was deprived of a regular ad- ministration of justice, and of its former dig- nity and splendour. But the very favourable reception he met with was, in some measure, owing to the forum bcin^i: in a o-rcat measure destitute of good orators. For Sulpicius was dead ; Cotta and Curio were abroad ; and no pleaders of any eminence were left but Carbo and Pomponius, from each of whom he easily carried off the palm. His nearest successor in the following age was W Was L. Sisenna, who was a man of leai'ning, had a taste for the liberal sciences, spoke the Ro* man language with accuracy, was well ac-- ijuainted with the laws and constitution of his country, and had a tolerable share of wit ; but he was not a speaker of any great application, or extensive practice ; and as he happened to live in the intermediate time between the ap- pearance of Sulpicius and Hortensius, he \^as unable to equal the former, and forced to yield to the superior talents of the latter. We may easily form a judgment of his abilities from the historical works he has left behind him ; which, though evidently preferable to any thing of the kind which had appeared before, may serve as a proof that he was far below the standard of perfection, and that this species of composition had not then been improved to any great de- gree of excellence among the Romans. But the genius of Q. Hortensius, even in his early youth, like one of Phidias's statues, was no sooner beheld than it was universally admired 1 He spoke his first oration in the forum in the consulship of L. Crassus and Q. Scsevola, to whom it was personally addressed ; and though he was then only nineteen years old, he descend- ed from the rostra with the hearty approbation not i » 138 not only of the audience in general, but of the two consuls themselves, who were the most in- telligent judges in the whole city. He died in the consulship of L. Paulus and C. Marcel- lus ; from which it appears tliat he was four- and-forty years a pleader. We shall review his character more at large in the sequel : but in this part of my history, I chose to include him in the number of orators who were rather of an <;^arlier date. This indeed must neces- sarily happen to all whose lives are of any considerable length : for they are equally liable to a comparison with their elders and their juniors ; as in the case of the poet Attius, who says that both he and Pacuvius applied them- selves to the cultivation of the drama under the same iEdiles ; though, at the time, the one was eighty, and the other only thirty years old. Thus Ilortensius may be compared not only wath those who were properly his contempora- ries, but with mc, and you, my Brutus, and '^'^■'^.■^.■■■W with others of a prior date. For he began to speak in public while Crassus was living ; but his fame increased when he appeared as a joint advocate with Antonius and Philip (at that time in the decline of life) in defence of Cn. Pompeius,— a cause in which (though a mere youth) 139 youth) he distinguished himself above the rest. He may therefore be included in the list of those whom I have placed in the time of Sul- picius ; but among his proper coevals, such as M. Piso, M. Crassus, Cn. Lentulus, and P, Lentulus Sura, he excelled beyond the reach of competition ; and after these he happened upon me, in the early part of my life (for I was eight years younger than himself) and spent a number of years with me in pursuit of the same forensic glory : and at last, (a little before his death) he once pleaded with you, in defence of Appius Claudius, as I have frequently done for others. Tlius you see, my Brutus, I am come insen- sibly to. .y^^jc^^f^. though there was imdoubt* edly a great variety of orators between my first appearance in the forum, and yours. But as I determined, when we began the conversa- tion, to make no mention of those among them who are still living, to prevent your enquiring too minutely what is my opinion concerning each; I shall confine myself to such as are now no more. That is not the true reason, said Brutus, why you choose to be silent about the living. What then do you suppose it to be? said I. You are only fearful, replied he, that your It if 140 your remarks should afterwards be mentioned by lis in other company, and that, by this means, you should expose yourself to the re- sentment of those, whom you may not think it worth vour while to notice. Indeed, answered I, I have not the least doubt of your secr^. Neither have you any reason, said he ? but after all I suppose, you had rather be silent yourself, than rely upon oiu' taciturnity. To confess the truth, replied I, when I first enter- ed upon the subject, I never imagined that I should have extended it to the age now before us ; wlicreas 1 ha\ e been drawn by a continued series of history among the moderns of latest date. Introduce, then, said he, those intcrme diate orators you may think worthy of our no- tice : and afterwards let us return to yourself, and Hortensius. To Hortensius, replied I, with all my heart ; but as to my orr;^ character, I shall leave it to other people to examine, if they choose to take the trouI)le. I can by no means ao-rec to that, said he : for though every part of the account you have favoured us with, has entertained me very agreeably, it now be- gins to seem tedious, ))ecause I am impatient to^iear something oi'i/ourself: I do not mean the wonft^rful (lualitics, but the progressive o steps, 141 utepSy and advances of your eloquence ; for the former are sufficiently known already both tq 7ne, and the whole world. As you do not re- quire me, said I, to sound the praises of my own genius, but only to describe my labour " and application to improve it, your request shall be complied with. But to preserve the order of mv narrative, I shall first introduce such other speakers as I think ought to be pre- viously noticed. And I shall begin with jNI. C irassus, who was contemporary with Hortensius. With a tolerable share of learning, and a very moderate capacity, his application, assiduity, and intern est, procured him a place among the ablest pleaders of the time for several years. His lano-uao-e was pure, his expression neither low nor vuloar and his ideas well digested : but he had nothing in him that was florid, and orna mental ; and the real ardor of his mind was not supported by any vigorous exertion of his voice, so that he pronounced almost every thing in the same miiform tone. His equal, and professed antagonist, C. Timbria, was not able to maintain his character so long; and though he always spoke with a strong and cle- y^ted voice, and poured forth a rapid torrent of 'I. iN 142 ^ ^fell-choscu expressions, he was so im- moderately vehement that you might justly be surprised that the people should have been so absent and inattentive as to admit a madman^ like him, into the list of orators. As to Cn. Leatulus, his action acquired him a reputation for his eloquence very far beyond his real abili- ties : for though he was not a man of any great penetration (notwithstanding he carried the appearance of it in his countenance) nor pos- sessed any real fluency of expression (though he was equally specious in this respect as in the former) yet by his sudden breaks, and excla- mations, he affected sueh an ironical air of surprise, with a sweet and sonorous turn of voice, and his whole action was so warm and lively, that his defects were scarcely noticed. For as Curio acquired the reputation of an orator with no other quality than a tolerable freedom of elocution, so Cn. Lentulus con- cealed the mediocrity of his other accomplish- ments by his action, which was really excel- lent. Much the same might be said of P. Lentulus, whose poverty of invention and ex- pression was secured from notice bv the mere dignity of his presence, his correct and grace- ful gesture, and the strength and sweetness of his 143 his voice : and his merit depended so entirely upon his action, that he was more deficient in every other quality than his namesake. But JM» -Piso derived all his talents from his erudition ; for he was much better versed in the Grecian literature than any of his prede- cessors. He had, however, a natural keenness of discernment, which he greatly improved by art, and exerted with great address and dex- terity, though in very indifferent language: but he was frequently warm and cho leric^ sometimes cold and insipid, and now and then rather smart and humorous. He did not long support the fatigue, and emulous contention of the forum ; partly on account of the weak- ness of his constitution ; and partly, because he could not submit to the foUies and imperti- nencies of the common people (which we orators are forced to swallow) either, as it was generally supposed, from a peculiar moroseness of temper, or from a liberal and ingenuous pride of heart. After acquiring, therefore, in his youth a tolerable degree of reputation, his character began to sink : but in the trial of the vestals, he again recovered it with some addi- tional lustre, and being thus recalled to the theatre of eloquence, he kept his rank, as long as « n *t 144 aA he was able to support the fatigue of it ; after which his credit declined, in proportion as lie remitted his application. P , JVIux fuia had a moderate genius, but was passionately fond of the study of antiquity ; he applied himself with equal diligence to the belles lettres, in which he was tolerably versed ; in short, he was a man of great industry, and took the utmost pains to distinguish himself. C. Cen- sorinus had a good stock of Grecian literature, explained whatever he advanced with great neatness and perspicuity, and had a graceful action, but was too cold and unanimated for the forum. L. Turius with a very indifferent genius, but the most indefatigable application, spoke in public very often, in the best manner he was able; and accordingly, he only Avanted the votes of a few centuries to promote 'him to the consulship. C. IMacer was never a man of much interest or authority, but was one of the most active pleaders of his time; and if his life, his uianners, and his very looks, had not ruined the credit of his genius, he would have ranked higher in the hst of orators. He was neither copious, nor dry and barren ; neither neat and embellished, nor wholly inelegant; and his voice, his gesture, and every part of liis action, was If ^¥ ' . • # 145 was without any grace : but in inventing and digesting his ideas, he had a wonderful accu- racy, such as no man I ever saw either possess- ed or exerted in a more eminent degree; and' yet, some how, he displayed it rather with the air of a quibbkr, than cJf an orator. Though he had acquired some reputation in public causes, he appeared to most advantage and was most courted and employed in private ones. C:jjEiaQ,. who comes next in order, hat! scarcely any exertion, but he was a speaker who adopted a very familiar style ; and though, in fact, he was far from being slow of inven- tion, he had more penetration in his look an<4 appearance than he really possessed. His con- temporary M. Glabrio, though carefully in- structed by his grandfather Scaevola, was pre- vented from distinguishing himsdf by bis na- tural indolence and want of attention. L. Torquatus, on the contrary, had art elegant turn of expression, and a clear comprehension, and was perfectly genteel and well-bred in Ms whole manner. But Cn. Pompeius, my coeval, a man who was born to excel in. every thing, would have acquired a more distinguished reputation for his eloquence, if he had not VoL.IL L been P H^fV i' been diverted from the pursuit of it by the more dazzling charms of military fame. His language was naturally bold and elevated, and he was always master of his subject ; and as to his powers of enunciation, his voice was sono- rous and manly, and his gesture noble, and full of dignity. D. Silanus, another of my con- temporaries, and your father-in-law, was not a man of much application, but he had a very competent share of discernment and elocution. Q. Pompeius, the son of Aulus, who had the title of Bithynicusy and was about two years older than myself, was, to my own knowledge, remarkably fond of the study of eloquence, had an uncommon stock of learning, and was a man of indefatigable industry and persever- ance : for he was connected with me and M; Piso, not only as an intimate acquaintance, but as an associate in our studies and private exer- cises. His elocution was but ill recommended by his action: for though the former was sufficiently copious and diffusive, there was nothing graceful in the latter. His contem- porary, P. Autronius, had a very clear, and strong voice ; but he was distinguished by no other accomplishment. L. Octavius Reatinus died in his youth, while he was in full practice : but 147 hut he ascended the fcstra with more assurance, than ability. C. Stajenus, who changed his name into iEIius by a kind of self-adoption, was a warm, an abusive, and indeed a furious speaker; which was so agreeable to the taste of many, that he would have risen to some rank in the state, if it had not been for a crime of which he was clearly convicted, and for which he afterwards suflfered. At the same time were the two brothers C. and L. C^epasius, who, though men of an ob- scure family and little previous consequence, were yet, by mere dint of application, suddenly promoted to the quasstorship, with no other recommendation than a provincial and un- polished kind of oratory. That I may not seem wilfully to omit any declaimer, 1 must also notice C. Cosconius Calidianus, who, without any discernment, amused the people with a rapidity of language (if such it might be called) which he attended with a perpetual hurry of action, and a most violent exertion, of his voice. Of much the same cast was Q, Arrius, who may be considered as a second- hand M. Crassus. He is a striking proof of what consequence it is in such a city as ours to devote one's-self to theinterests of themany, and to be as active as possible in promoting their safety, L2 or 14S or tlicir honour. For by tjicse means, though of the lowest parentage, having raised himself to ofiices of rank, and to considerable wealth and influence, he likewise acquired the reputation, of a tolerable patron, without cither learning or abilities. But as inexperienced champions, who, from a passionate desire to distinguish themselves in the circus, can bear the blows of their opponents a\ ithout shrinking, are often overpowered by the heat of the sun, when it is increased by the reflection of the sand ; so he, who had hitherto supported even the sharpest encounters with good success, could not stand the severity of that year of judicial contest, which blazed upon him like a summer's sun. Upon my word, cried Atticus, you are now treating us with the very dregs' of oratory, and you have entertained us in this manner for some time: but I did not offer to interrupt you, because I never dreamed you would have descended so low as to mention the Stajeni and Autronii! As I have been speaking of the dead, you will not imagine, I suppose, said I, that I have done it to court their favour: but in pursuing the order of history, I was neces- sarily led by degrees to a period of time which falls within the compass of our own know- 149 ledge. But I wish it to be noticed, that after recounting all who ever ventured to speak in public, we find but few, (very few indeed!) whose names are worth recording; and not many^ wlio had even the repute of being orators. Let us, however, return to our subject. J[^^Tor3Mtus, then, the son of Titus, was a man of learning, (which he first acquired in the school of Molo in Rhodes,) and of a free and easy elocution which he received from nature. If he had lived to a proper age, he would have been chosen consul, without any solicitation ; but he had more ability for speak- ing than inclination ; so that, in fact, he did not do justice to the art he professed ; and yet he was never wanting to his duty, either in the private causes of his friends and depend- ents, or in his senatorial capacity. My towns- man too, P. Pontidius, pleaded a number of private causes. He had a rapidity of expres- sion, and a tolerable quickness of comprehen- sion : but he was very warm, and indeed rather too choleric and irascible; so that he often wrangled not only with his antagonist, but (what appears very strange) with the judge himself, whom it was rather his business to sooth and L 3 <]:ratifv. 156 gratify. M. Messala, who was something youn- ger than myself, was far from being a poor and an abject pleader, and yet he was not a very embellished one. He was judicious, penetrating, and wary, very exact in digesting and me- thodizing his subject, and a man of uncommon diligence and appHcation, and of very exten* sive practice. As to the two Metelli (Celer and Nepos) these also had a moderate share of employment at the bar; but being destitute neither of learning nor abilities, they chiefly applied themselv^es (and with some success) to debates of a more popular kind. But Caius Lentulus Marcellinus, who was never reckon- ed a bad speaker, was esteemed a very eloquent one in his consulship. He wanted neither sentiment, nor expression ; his voice was sweet and sonorous ; and he had a sufficient stock of humour. C. Memmius, the son of Lucius, was a perfect adept in the learning of the Greeks; for he had an insuperable disgust to the literature of the Romans. He was a neat and polished speaker, and had a sweet and harmonious turn of expression ; but as he was equally averse to every laborious effort either of the mind or the tongue, his eloquence declined 151 declined in proportion as he lessened his ap- plication. But I heartily wish, said Brutus, that you would give us your opinion of those orators who are still living ; or, if you are determined to say nothing of the rest, there are two at least, (that is Caesar and Marcellus, whom I have often heard you speak of with the highest approbation) whose characters would give me as much entertainment as any of those you have already specified. But why, answered I, should you expect that I should give you my opinion of men who are as well known to your- self as to me ? Marcellus, indeed, replied he, I am very well acijuainted with ; but as to Cas- sar, I know Httle of him. For I have heard the former very often : but, by the time I was able to judge for myself, the latter had set out for his province. But what, said I, think you of him whom you have heard so often ? What else can I think, replied he, but that you will soon have an orator, who will very nearly resemble yourself ? If that is the case, answered I, pray think of him as favourably as you can. I do, said he ; for he pleases me very highly ; and not without reason. He is absolutely master of his profession, and, neglecting every other, L 4 has ^ V .ir i lit 152 has applied himself solely to this ; and, for that purpose, has persevered in the rigorous task of composing a daily essay in writing. His words are well chosen ; his language is full and co- pious ; and every thing he says receives an ad- ditional ornament from the graceful tone of his voice, and the dignity of his action. In short, he is so complete an orator, that there is no quality I know of, in which I can think him deficient. But he is still more to be admired, for being able, in these unhappy times, (which are marked with a distress that, by some cruel fatality, has overwhelmed us all) to console himself, as opportunity oflers, with the con- sciousness of his own integrity, and by the fre- quent renewal of his literary pursuits. I saw him lately at Mitylene ; and then (as T have already hinted) I saw him a thorough man. For though I had before discovered in him a strong resemblance of yourself* the Hkeness was much improved, after he was enriched by the instructions of your learned, and very inti- mate friend Cratippus. Though I acknowledge, said I, that I have listened with pleasure to your eulogies on a very worthy man, for whom I have the warmest esteem, they have led me in- sensibly to the recollection of our common mi- series \53 , scries, which our present conversation was in- tended to suspend. But I would willingly hear what is Atticus's opinion of Caesar, Upon my word, replied Atticus, you are won- derfully consistent with your plan, to say no- thing j/o«?'^e// of the hving : and indeed, if you was to deal with them, as you already have with the dead, and say something of every paltry fel- low that occurs to your memory, you would plague us with Autronii and Stejani without end. But though you might possibly have it in view not to incumber yourself with such a numerous crowd of insignificant wretches ; or perhaps, to avoid giving any one room to com- plain that he was either unnoticed, or nor ex- tolled according to his imaginary merit ; yet, certainly, you might have said something of Cassar : especially, as your opinion of his abi- lities is well known to everybody, and his con- cerning ?/owr'^' is very far from being a secret* But, however, said he, (addressing himself to Brutus) I really think of Caesar, and every body _ else says the same of this accurate master in the art of speaking, that he has the purest and the most elegant command of the Roman lan- guage of all the orators that have yet appeared : and tliat not merely by domestic habit, as we have >^ 1 y 154 have lately heard it observed of the families of the L^lii and the Mucii, (though even here, I believe, this might partly have been the case) but he chiefly acquired and brought it to its pre- sent perfection, by a studious application to the most intricate and refined branches of literature, and by a careful and constant attention to the purity of his style. But that he, who, involv- ed as he was in a perpetual hurry of business, could dedicate t0 7/ou,my Cicero,a laboured trea- tise on the art of speaking correctly ; that Ae, who, in the first book of it, laid it down as an axiom, that an accurate choice of words is the foundation of eloquence : and who has bestow- ed, said he, (addressing himself again to Bru- tus) the highest encomiums on this friend of ours, who yet chooses to leave Caesar's charac- ter to me ;— that he should be a perfect mas- ter of the language of polite conversation, is a circumstance which is almost too obvious to be mentioned. 1 said, the highest encomiumSy pursued Atticus, because he says in so many words, when he addresses himself to Cicero — if others have bestowed all their time and at- tention to acquire a habit of expressing them- selves xvith ease and correctness, hoxv much is the name and dignity of the Roman people in- 4 deb ted 155 dehted to you, who are the highest pattern^ and indeed the frst iiiventor of that rich fer- tility of language which distinguishes your performances. Indeed, said Brutus, I think he has extolled your merit in a very friendly and a very mag- nificent style : for you are not only the highest pattern, and even the first i?ive?itor of all our fertility of language, which alone is praise enough to content any reasonable man, but you have added fresh honours to the name and dig- nity of the Roman people ; for the very excel* lencein which we had hitherto been conquered by the vanquished Greeks, has now been either, wrested from their hands, or equally shared, at least, between us and them. So that I prefer this honourable testimony of Caesar, I will not say to the public thanksgiving, which was decreed for your ozvn military services, but to the triumphs of many heroes. Very true, replied I, provided this honourable testimony was really the voice of Cagsar's judgment, and not of his friendship : for he certainly has added more to the dignity of the Roman people, whoever he may be (if indeed any such man has yet ex* isted) who has not only exemplified and en- larged, but first produced this rich fertility of expression^ 156 expression, than the doughty warrior who ha» stormed a few paltry castles of the Ligurians, which have furnished us, you know, with many repeated triumphs. In reality, if we can sub- mit to hear the truth, it may be asserted (to say nothing of those godlike plans, which, sup- ported by the wisdom of our generals, has fre- quently saved the sinking state both abroad and at home) that an orator is justly entitled to the preference to any commander in a petty war. But the general, you will say, is the more serviceable man to the public. Nobody denies it : and yet (for I am not afraid of pro- voking your censure, in a conversation which leaves each of us at liberty to say what he thinks) I had rather be the author of the single oration of Crassus, in defence of Curius, than he honoured with two Ligurian triumphs. You will, perhaps, reply, that the storming a castle of the Ligurians was a thing of more conse- quence to the state, than that the claim of Curius should be ably supported. This I own to be true. But it was also of more conse- quence to the Athenians, that their houses should be securely roofed, than to have tjieir city graced with a most beautiful statue of Minerva : and yet, notwithstanding this, I would 157 would much rather have been a Phidias, thaa the most skilful joiner in Athens. In the pre- sent case, therefore, we are not to consider i man's usefulness, but the strength of his abili- ties ; e3pecially a$ the number of painters an4 statuaries, who have excelled in their profes- sion, is very suia,ll ; whereas, there can never be a,nywant of joiners and mechanic labourers. But proceed, my Atticus, with Cassar ; and oblige us with the remainder of his character. We see then, said he, from what has just been mentioned, that a pure and correct style is the groundwork, and the very basis and founda- tion, upon which an orator must build his other accomplishments : though, it is true, that those who had hitherto possessed it, derived it more from early habit, than from any principles, of art. It is needless to refer you to the in- stances of Laelius and Scipio ; for a purity of language, as well as of manners, was the charac- teristic of the age they lived in. It could not, indeed, be applied to every one ; for their tvvo; contemporaries, Caecilius and Pacuvius, spoke very incorrectly : but yet people in general who had not resided out of the city, nor been corrupted by any domestic barbarisms, spoke the Roman language with purity. Time, how- ever, il) IH ^m 158 fvcr, as well at Rome as in Greece, soon altered matters for the worse : for this city, (as had formerly been the case at Athens) was resorted to by a crowd of adventurers from different parts, who spoke very corruptly ; which shews » the necessity of reforming our language, and reducing it to a certain standard, which shall not be liable to vary like the capricious laws of ^ custom. Though we were then very young, we can easily remember T. Flaminius, who was joint-consul with Q. Metellus : he was suppos- ed to speak his native language with correct- ness, but was a man of no literature. As to Catulus, he was far indeed from being desti- tute of learning, as you have already observed : but his reputed purity of diction was chiefly owing to the sweetness of his voice, and the delicacy of his accent. Cotta, who, by his broad pronunciation, lost all resemblance of the elegant tone of the Greeks, and affected a harsh and rustic utterance, quite opposite to that of Catulus, acquired the same reputation of cor- rectness, by pursuing a wild and unfrequented path. But Sisenna, w^ho had the ambition to think of reforming our phraseology, could not be lashed out of his whimsical and new-fangled turns of expression, by all the raillery of C. Rufius. 159 » Ru&us; What do you refer to ? said Brutus ; and who was the Caius Rufius you are speak- ing of ? He was a noted prosecutor, replied he, some years ago. When this man had support- ed an indictment against one Christilius, Si- senna, who was counsel for the defendant, told him, that several parts of his accusation were in the highest degree contemptible. M]/ lords, cried Rufius to the judges, / shall be ancelly over-reached, unless you give nib' pour assistance. His charge overpowers my com-* prehension ; and I am afraid he has some un-^ fair design upon me. IVhat, in the name of heaven, can he intend by spitatical? * / knorv the meaning of spit, or spittle ; but this horrid atical, at the end of it, abso- lutely puzzles me. The whole bench laughed very heartily at the singular oddity of the ex- pression : my old friend, however, was still of opinion, that to speak correctly, was to speak differently from other people. But Caesar, who was guided by the principles of * In the original sputcUilica, worthy to be spifc upon. It appears, from the connection, to have been a very unclassi- ca! word, whimsically deriyed by the author of it from spiUa^ ipittle. lOO of art, has corrected the imperfections of a vicious custom, by adopting the rules and im- provements of a good one, as lie found them occasionally displayed in the course of polite conversation. Accordingly, to the purest elegance of expression, (which is equally neces- sary to every well-bred citizen, as to an orator) he has added all the various ornaments of elo- cution ; so that he seems to exhibit the finest painting in the most advantageous point of view. As he has such extraordinary merit even iuthe tenor of his language^ I must con- fess that there is no person I know of, to whom he should yield the preference. Besides, his manner of speaking, both as to his voice and gesture, is splendid and noble, without the least appearance of artifice or affectation : and there is a dignity in his very presence, which be- speaks a great and elevated mind. Indeed, said Brutus, his orations please me highly ; for I have had the satisfaction to read several of them. He has likewise written some com- mentaries, or short memoirs, of his own trans- actions ; and such, said I, as merit the highest approbation : for they are plain, correct, and graceful, and divested of all the ornaments of language, so as to appear (if I may be allowed the 161 the expression) in a kind of undress* But while he pretended only to furnish the loose materials, for such as might be incHned to compose a regular history, he may, perhaps, have gratified the vanity of a few literaryym- seurs : but he has certainly prevented all sen- sible men from attemptting any improvement on his plan. For in history, nothing is more pleas- ing than a correct and elegant brevity of ex- pression. With your leave, however, it is high time to return to those orators who have quitted the stage of life. C. Sicinius, then, who was a grandson of the censor Q. Pompey, by one of his daughters, died after his advancement to the quaestorship. He was a speaker of some merit and reputa- tion, which he derived from the system of Her- magoras ; who, though he furnished but little assistance for acquiring an ornamental style, gave many useful precepts to expedite and im- prove the invention of an orator. For in this system we have a collection of fixed and deter- minate rules for public speaking ; which are delivered indeed without any shew or parade, (and I might have added, in a trivial and home- ly form) but yet are so plain and methodical, that it is almost impossible to mistake the road. Vol. II. M By If 163 By keeping close to these, and always digesting his subject before he ventured to speak upon it, (to which we may add; tliat he had a tole- rable fluency of expression) he so far succeed- ed, without anv other assistance, as to be rankr cd among the pleaders of the day. — As to C. Visellius Varro, who was my cousin, and a contemporary of Sicinius, he was a man of ffreat learning. He died while he was a mem- ber of the court of inquests, into which he had been admitted after the expiration of his aedile- ship. The public I confess, had not the same opinion of his abilities that 1 have : for he never passed as a man of sterling eloquence among the people. His style was excessively quick and rapid, and consequently indistinct; for, in fact» it was embarrassed and obscured by the • celerity of its course : and yet, after all, you will scarcely find a man who had a better choice of words, or a richer vein of sentiment. He had besides a complete fund of polite litera- ture, and a thorough knowledge of the princi- ples of jurisprudence, which he learned from his father Acnleo. To proceed in our account of the dead, tlie next that presents himself is L. Torquatus, whom you will not so readily pronounce a proficient in the art of speaking (though 163 (though he was by no means destitute of elocu-* tion), as what is called by the Greeks,^ ^ii^-. cal adept. He had a plentiful stock of learning, not indeed of the common sort, but of a more abstruse and curious nature : lie had likewise an admirable memory, and a very sensible and elegant turn of expression ; all which qualities derived an additional grace from the dignity of his deportment, and the integrity of his man- ners. I was also highly pleased with the style of his contemporary Triarius, which expressed to perfection the character of a worthy old gentleman, who had been thoroughly polished by the refinements of literature. — What a vene-^ rable severity was there in his look ! what for- cible solemnity in his language ! and how thoughtful and deliberate every word bespoke ! At the mention of Torquatus and Triarius, for each of whom he had the most affectionate ve- neration, It fills my heart with anguish, said Brutus, (to omit a thousand other circum- stances) when I reflect, as I cannot help doing, on your mentioning the names of these worthy men, that your long-respected authority was in- sufficient to procure an accommodation of our differences. The republic would not other- wise have been deprived of these, and many M 2 other •i^ l# 164 165 Pufl^ Other excellent citizens. Not a word more, said I, on this melancholy subject, which can only aggravate our sorrow : for as the remem- brance of what is already past is painful enough, the prospect of what is yet to come is still more cutting. Let us, therefore, drop our un- availing complaints, and (agreeably to our plan) confine our attention to the forensic merits o( our deceased friends. Among those, then, who lost their lives in this unhappy war, was M. Bibulus, who, though not a professed orator, wag a very accurate wri- ter, and a solid and experienced advocate : and Appius Claudius, your father-in-law, and my colleague and intimate acquaintance, who was not only a hard student, and a man of learning, but a practised orator, a skilful augurist and civilian, and a thorough adept in the Roman history. — As to L. Domitius, he was totally un- acquainted with any rules of art ; but he spoke his native language with purity, and had a great freedom of address. We had likewise the two Lentuli, men of consular dignity^ ; one of whom, (I mean Publius) the avenger of my wrongs, and the author of my restoration, de- rived all his powers and accomplishments from the assistance of art, and not from the bounty of of nature : but he had such a great and noble disposition, that he claimed all the honours of the most illustrious citizens, and supported them with the utmost dignity of character. — The other (L. Lentulus) was an animated speaker^ for it would be saying too much, perhaps, to call him an orator; but, unhappily, he had an utter aversion to the trouble of thinking. His voice was sonorous; and his language, though not absolutely harsh and forbidding, was warm and rigorous, and carried in it a kind of terror. In a judicial trial, you would probably have wished for a more agreeable and a keener advo- cate : but in a debate on matters of govern- ment, you would have thought his abilities suf- ficient. — Even Titus Postumius had such powers of utterance, as were not to be despis- ed: but in political matters, he spoke with the same unbridled ardour he fought with : in short, he was much too warm ; though it must be owned he possessed an extensive knowledge of the laws and constitution of his country. Upon my word, cried Atticus, if the persons you have mentioned were still living, I should be apt to imagine, that you was endeavouring to solicit their favour. For you introduce every body who had the courage to stand up and M 3 speak 166 $pcak his mind : so that I almost begin to wonder how M. Servilius has escaped your notice. I am, indeed, very sensible, replied I, that there have been many who never spoke in public, that were much better qualified for the task, than those orators I have taken the pains to enumerate*" ; but I have, at least, answered one purpose by it, which is to shew you, that in this populous city, we have not had very many who had the resolution to speak at all ; and that even among these, there have been few who were entitled to our applause. I cannot, therefore, neglect to take some notice of those worthy knights, and my intimate friends, very lately deceased, P. Comminius Spoletinus, against whom I pleaded in defence of C. Cor- nelius, and who was a methodical, a spirited, and a ready speaker ; and T. Accius, of Pi- saurum, to whom I replied in behalf of A. Clu- entius, and who was an accurate, and a tole^ rably copious advocate : he was also well in- structed in the precepts of Hermagoras, which, though of little service to embellish and enrich our elocution, furnish a variety of arguments, which, k This was probably intended as an indirect compliment to Atticus. 167 whicli, like the weapons of the light infantry, may be readily managed, and are adapted to every subject of debate. I must add, that I never knew a man of greater industry and ap-' plication. As to C. Piso, my son-in-law, it is scarcely possible to mention any one who was blessed with a finer capacity. He was con- stantly employed either in public speaking, and private declamatory exercises, or, at least, inwritir^and thinking: and, consequently, h« ,made such a rapid progress, that he rather seemed to fly than to run. He had an elegant choice of expression, and the structure of his periods was perfectly neat and harmonious : he had an astonishing variety and strength of ar- gument, and a lively and agreeable turn of sentiment: and his gesture was naturally BO graceful, that it appeared to have been form- ed (which it really was not) by the nicest rules of art. I am rather fearful, indeed, that I should be thought to have been prompted by my affection for him to have given him a greater character than he deserved : but this is To far from being the case, that I might just- ly have ascribed to him many qualities of a different and more valuable nature : for in con- tinence, social ardour, and every other kind ofr M 4 virtue,/ m 168 169 lii virtue, there was scarcely any of his contem- poraries who was worthy to be compared with him. M. Caslius too must not pass unnoticed, notwithstanding the unhappy change, either of his fortune or disposition, which marked the latter part of his life. As long as he was directed by my influence, he behaved himself so well as a tribune of the people, that no man supported the interests of the senate,.A.nd of all the good and virtuous, in opposition to the factious and unruly madness of a set of aban- doned citizens, with more firmness than he did : a part in which he was enabled to exert himself to great advantage, by the force and dignity of his language, and his lively humour, and genteel address. He spoke several ha- rangues in a very sensible style, and three spi- rited invectives, which originated from our po- litical disputes : and his defensive speeches, though not equal to the former, were yet tole- rably good, and had a degree of merit which was far from being contemptible. After he had been advanced to the asdileship, by the hearty approbation of all the better sort of ci- tizens, as he had lost my company (for I was then abroad in Ctlicia) he likewise lost him- self; self; and entirely sunk his credit, by imitating the conduct of those very men, whom he had before so successfully opposed. But M. Cali- dius has a more particular claim to our notice for the singularity of his character; which cannot so properly be said to have entitled him to a place among our other orators, as to distinguish him from the whole fraternity : for in him we beheld the most uncommon, and the most delicate sentiments, arrayed in the softest and finest language imaginable. No- thing could be so easy as the turn and compass of his periods ; nothing so ductile ; nothing more pliable and obsequious to his will, so that he had a greater command of it than any orator whatever. In short, the flow of his language was so pure and limpid, that nothing could be clearer ; and so free, that it was never clogged or obstructed. Every word was exactly in the place where it should be, and disposed (as Lucilius expresses it) with as much nicety as in a curious piece of Mosaic work. We may add, that he had not a single expression which was either harsh, unnatural, abject, or far-fetched ; and yet he was so far from confining himself to the plain and ordi- nary mode of speaking, that he abounded greatly 170 greatly in the metaphor, — but such metaphors as did not appear to usurp a post that belong- ed to janother, but only to occupy their own. These delicacies were displayed not in a loose and effeminate style ; but in such a one as was strictly numerous, without either appearing to be so, or running on with a dull uniformity of sound. He was likewise master of the var rious ornaments of language and sentiment which the Greeks cM/igures, whereby he en- livened and embellished his style as with so many forensic decorations. We may add that he readily discovered, upon all occasions, what was the real point of debate, and where the stress of the argument lay ; and that his me- thod of ranging his ideas was extremely artful, his action genteel, and his whole manner very engaging and very sensible. In short, if to speak agreeably is the chief merit of an orator, you will find no one who vv^as better qualified than Ca lidiu s. t^ But as we have observed a little before, that it is the business of an orator to instruct, to please, and to move tlie passions ; he was, indeed, perfectly master of the two first ; for no one could better elucidate his subject, or charm the attention of his audience. But as to the third 171 third qualification, — the moving and alarming the passions, — which is of much greater effi- cacy than the two former, he was wholly des- titute of it. He had no force, — no exertion ; —either by his own choice, and from an opi- nion that those who had a loftier turn of ex- pression, and a more warm and spirited action, were little better than madmen ; or because it was contrary to his natural temper, and habitual practice ; or, lastly, because it was beyond the strength of his abilities. If, indeed, it is a useless quality, his want of it was a real excellence : but if otherwise, it was certainly a defect. I particularly remember, that when he prosecuted Q. Gallius for an attempt to poison; him, and pretended that he had the plainest proofs of it, and could produce many letters, witnesses, informations, and other evi- dences to put the truth of his charge beyond a doubt, interspersing many sensible and inge- nious remarks on the nature of the crime ;— I remember, I say, that when it came to my turn to reply to him, after urging every argu- ment which the case itself suggested, I insist* cd upon it as a material circumstance in fa- vour of my client, that the prosecutor, while he charged him with a design against his life; and 172 and assured us that he had the most indubita- ble proofs of it then in his hands, related his story with as much ease, and as much calmness, and indifference, as if nothing had happened. Would it have been possible, said I, (address- ing myself to Calidius) that you should speak with this air of unconcern, unless the charge was purely an invention of your own ? And, above all, that you, whose eloquence has often vindicated the wrongs of other people with so much spirit, should speak so coolly of a crime which threatened your life? Where was that expression of resentment which is so natural to the injured ? Where that ardour, that eagerness, which extorts the most pathe- tic language even from men of the dullest ca- pacities ? There was no visible disorder in your mind, no emotion in your looks and ges- ture, no smiting of the thigh or the forehead, nor even a single stamp of the foot You was, therefore, so far from interesting our passions in your favour, that we could scarcely keep our eyes open, while you was relating the dan- gers you had so narrowly escaped. Thus wc employed the natural defect, or, if you please, the sensible calmness of an excellent orator, as an argument to invalidate his charge. But is it 173 it possible to doubt, cried Brutus, whether this was a sensible quality, or a defect ? For as thc^ greatest merit of an orator is to be able to in- flame the passions, and give them such a bias as shall best answer his purpose; he who is" destitute of this must certainly be deficient in the most capital part of his profession. I am of the same opinion, said I ; but let us now proceed to him (Hortensius) who is the onJxJlSlil^inin^^oral^^ after which, as you seem to insist upon it, I shall say something of myself I must first, however, do justice to the memory of two promising youths, who, if they had lived to a riper age, would have acquired the highest reputation for their eloquence. You mean, I suppose, said Brutus, C. Curio, and C Licinius Calvus . The very same, replied L One of them, besides his plausible manner, had such an easy and voluble flow of expression, and such an inex- haustible variety, and sometimes accuracy of sentiment, that he was one of tne most ready and ornamental speakers of his time. Though he had received but little instruction from the professed masters of the art, nature had fur- nished him with an admirable capacity for the practice «f it. I never, indeed, discovered in kim 174 175 him any great degree of application ; but he was certainly very ambitious to distinguish himself: and if he had continued to listen to my advice, as he had begun to do, he would have preferred the acquisition of real honour to that of untimely grandeur. What do you mean, said Brutus ? Or in what manner are these two objects to be distinguished ? I distinguish them jthus, replied I : as honour is the reward of virtu e^, conferred upon'aman by the choice and affection jof his fellow-citizens, he who obtains it by their free votes and suffrages is to be considered, in my opinion, as an honourable member of the communityl But he who acquires his power and authority by taking advantage of every un- happy incident, and without the consent of his fellow-citizens, as Curio aimed to do, acquires only t he name of hono ur, without the substance. Whereas, if he had hearkened to me, he would have risen to the highest dignity, in an honour- able manner, and with the hearty approbation of all men, by a gradual advancement to public offices, as his ^father and many other eminent citizens had done before. I often gave the same advice to P. Crassus, the son of Marcus, who courted my friendship in the early part of his life ; and recommended it to him very warmly, to to consider that as the truest path to honour which had been already marked out to him by the example of his ancestors. For he had been extremely well educated, and was perfect- ly versed in every branch of polite literature : he had likewise a penetrating genius, and an elegant variety of expression ; and appeared grave and sententious without arrogance, and modest and diffident without dejection. But like many other young men he was carried away l^y jjiptljl^"^ ^^^}\f^^^^ ' and after serving a short time with reputation as a volunteer, nothing could satisfy him but to try his fortune as a general, an employment which was confined by the wisdom of our ancestors to men who had arrived at a certain age, and who, even then, wxre obliged to submit their pretensions to the uncertain issue ofaj)u]^Jic.. decision. Thus, by exposing himself to a fatal catastrophe, while he was endeavouring to rival the fame of Cyrus and Alexander, who hved to finish their desperate career, he lost all resemblance of L. Crassus, and his other worthy progenitors. But let us return to Calyus, whom we have just mentioned, an orator who had received more Kterary improve- ments than Curio, and had a more a^xurate and 176 and delicate manner of speaking, which he conducted with great taste and elegance ; but (by being too minute and nice a critic upon himself,) while he was labouring to correct and refine his language, he suffered all the force and spirit of it to p^aftoiate. In short, it was so exquisitely polished, as to charm the eye of every skilful observer; but it was little (noticed by the common people in a crowded forum, which is the proper theatre of eloquence. His aim, said Brutus, was to be admired as an .^/ic orator: and to this we must attribute that accurate exility of style, which he con- stantly affected. This; indeed, was his profess- ed character, replied I : but he was deceived himself, and led others into the same mistake. It is true, whoever supposes that to speak in the Attic taste, is to avoid every awkward, every harsh, every vicious expression, has, in this sense, an undoubted right to refuse his approbation to every thing which is not strictly Attic, For he must naturally detest what- ever is insipid, disgusting, or incorrect ; while he considers a correctness and propriety of language as the reh^n, and g ood-nianners of an orator: and every one who pretends to speak in public should adopt the same opinion. But 177 But if he bestows the name of Atticism on a meagre, a dry, and a niggardly turn of expres- sion, provided it is neat, correct and polished, I cannot say, indeed, that he bestows it impro- perly ; as the Attic orators, however, had many qualitie*^ of a more important nature, I would advise him to be careful that he does not over- look their different kinds and degrees of merit, and their great extent and variety of character. The Attic speakers, he will tell me, are the models upon which he wishes to form his eloquence. But which of them does he mean to fix upon ? for they are not all of the same cast. "Who, for iastance, could be more unlike each other than Demosthenes and Lvsias ? or than Demosthenes and Hyperides ? Or who more different from either of them, than Ms- chines? Which of them, then, do you propose to imitate? If onlyL_^; /e, this will be a tacit im- plication, that none of the rest were true masters of Atticism : if (ill, how can you possibly suc- ceed, when their qharacJL£rs are so o[)£osite ? Let me further ask you, whether Demetrius Phalereus spoke in the Attic style ? In my opinion, his orations have the very taste of Athens. But he is certainly more florid than either Hyperides or Lysias ; partly from the Vol. II. N natural 178 natural tarn of bis genius, and partly by cboice. . Tbere were likewise two others, at tbe time we are speaking of, wbose cli^racters were equally dissimilar ? and yet botb of tbem were truly Attic. The first (Charisius) was the author of a numl)er of speeches, which he composed for his friends, professedly in imita- tion of Lysias : and tbe other (Demochares, the nephew of Demosthenes) wrote several ora- tions, and a regular history of what was trans- acted in Athens under his own observation ; not so much, indeed, in the style of an histori- an, as of an orator. Hegesias took the former for his model, and was so vain of his own taste for Atticism, that he considered his predecessors, who were really masters of it, as mere rustics in comparison of himself. But what can be more insipid, more frivolous, or more puerile, than that very concinnity of expression which he actually acquired ? But still we wish to resemble the Attic speakers. Do so by all means. But were not those, then, true Attic speakers, we have just been mentioning ? Nobody denies it ; and these are the men we i?nitate. But how ? when they are so very different, not only from each other, but from all the rest of their 179 their contemporaries ? True; but Thucydides is our leading pattern. This too I can allow if you design to compose histories, instead of pleading causes. For Thucydides was both- an exact, and a stately historian : but he never intended to write models for conducting a judicial process. I will even go so far as to add, that I have often commended the speeches which he has inserted into his history in great numbers; though I must frankly own, that I neither could imitate them, if I would, nor in- deed would, if I could; like a man who would neither choose his wine so new as to have been tunned off in tlie preceding vintage, nor so ex- cessively old as to date its age from the con- sulship of Opimius or Anicius. The latter, you'll say, bears the highest price. Very probable; but when it has too much age, it has lost that delicious flavour which pleases the palate, and, in my opinion, is scarcely tolerable. fFould you choose, then, when you have a mind to regale yourself , to apply to a fresh, miripened cask ? By no means ; but still there is a certain age, when good wine arrives at its utmost perfection, npthesame manner, I would recommend llowedjt^le, which, (if I rs 2 may 180 may so express myself) has been newly drawn off from the vat; nor the rough, and anti- quated language of the grave and manly Thucydides. For even he, if he had lived a few years later, would have acquired a much softer and mellower turn of expression. Let us, then, imitate Demosthenes. Good Gods ! to what else do I direct all my endea- vours, and my wishes ! But it is, perhaps, my misfortune not to succeed. 'Ih^st^AtticiserSy however, acquire with ease the paltry character they aim at; not once recollecting that it is not only recorded in history, but must have been .he natural consequence of his superior fame, that when Demosthenes was to speak in pubhc, all Greece flocked in crowds to hear him. But when our Attic orators venture to speak, they arc presently deserted not only by the little throng around them who have nq in- terest in the dispute, (which alone is a mor- tifying proof of their insignificance) but even by their associates and fellow-advocates. If to speak, therefore, in a dij and lifeless man- ner, is the true criterion of Atticism, they are heartily welcome to enjoy the credit of it: but if they wish to put their abilities to the trial, let them attend the Comitia, or a judicial pro- 3 cess 181 cess of real importance. The open forum de-* / mands a fuller, and more elevated tone : and ' he is the orator for me, who is so universally admired that when he is to plead an interesting cause, all the benches are filled beforehand, the tribunal crowded, the clerks and notaries busy in adjusting their seats, the populace thronging about the rostra, and the judge brisk, and vigilant ; he, w^ho has such a commanding air, that when he rises up to speak the whole audi-^ ance is hushed into a profound silence, which is soon interrupted by their repeated plaudits, and acclamations, or by those successive bursts of laughter, or violent transports of passion, which he knows how to excite at his pleasure ; so that even a distant observer, though unac- quainted with the subject he is speaking upon, can easily discover that his hearers are pleased with him, and that a Roscins is performing his part on the stage. Whoever has the happiness to be thus followed and applauded, is, beyond j dispute, an Attic speaker: for such was Peri- • cles, such was Hyperides, and jEschines, and such, in the most eminent degree, was the great Demosthenes ! If, indeed, these conjioissjeur^, who have so much dislike to every thing bold and ornamental, only mean to say that an ac- N 3 curate, 182 ^curate, a judicious, and a neat, and compact, but unembellished style, is really an Attic one, I they are not mistaken. For in an art of such wonderful extent and variety as that of speak- ing, even this subtile and confined character may claim a place : so that the conclusion will be, that it is very possible to speak in the Attic taste without deserving the name of an orator ; but that all, in general, who are truly eloquent are likewise Attic speakers. It is time, however, to return to Hortensius. Indeed, I think so, cried Brutus : though I must aeknowledge that this long digression of yours has entertained me very agreeably. But I made some remarks, said Atticus, which I was several times inclined to mention : only I was loath to interrupt you. As your discourse, however, seems to be drawing towards an end, I think I may venture to state them. By all means, replied I. I readily grant, then, said he, that there is something very humorous and elegant in that continued Iroiy, which Socrates employs to so much advantage in the dialogues of Plato, Xenophon, and ^Eschines. For when a dispute commences on the nature of wisdom, he professes, with a great deal of humour and ingenuity, to have no pretensions to 183 to it himself ; while, with a kind of concealed raillery, he ascribes the highest degree of it to those who had the arrogance to lay an open claim to it Thus, in Plato, be extols Prota- goras, Hippias, Prodicus, Gorgias and several others, to the skies : but represents himself as quite ignorant. This in him was peculiarly be- coming ; nor can I agree with Epicurus, who thinks it censurable. But in a professed history, (for such, in fact, is the account you have been giving us of the Roman orators) I shall leave you to judge, whether an application of the Irony is not equally reprehensible, as it would be in giving a judicial evidence. Pray, what are you driving at? said I ; for I cannot comprehend you. I mean, replied he, in the first place, that the commendations which you have bestowed upon some of our orators, have a tendency to mislead the opinion of those who are unacquainted with their true characters. There were likewise several parts of your ac- count, at which I could scarcely forbear laugh- ing : as, for instance, when you compared old Cato to Lysias. He, was indeed, a great, and a very extraordinary man. Nobody, I believe, will say to the contrary. But shall we call him an orator ? Shall we pronounce him the rival of N 4 Lysias, 184 Lysias, who was the most finished character of the kind ? If we mean to jest, this comparison of yours would form a pretty ironij : but if we are talking in real earnest, we should pay the same scrupulous regard to truth, as if we were giving evidence upon oath. As a citizen, a se- nator, a general, and, in short, a man who was distinguished by his prudence, his activity, and every other virtue, your favourite Cato has my /highest approbation^ I can likewise applaud his speeches, considering the time he lived in. They exhibit the outlines of a great genius ; but ^ such, however, as are evidently rude and imper- fect. In the same manner, when you represented his Antiquities as replete with all the graces of oratory, and compared. Cato with Philistus and Thucydides, did you really imagine, that you could persuade me and Brutus to believe you ? or would you seriously degrade those, whom none of the Greeks themselves have been able to equal, into a comparison with a stiff country gentleman, who scarcely suspected that there was any such thing in being as a copious and ornamental style ? You have likewise said much in commenda- tion of Galba ;— if as the best speaker of his ^ge, I can so far agree with you, for such was the 185 the character he bore :— bat if you meant to recommend him as an orator, produce his orations (for they are still extant) and then tell me honestly, whether you would wish your friend Brutus here to speak as he did ? Lepi- dus too was the author of several speeches, which have received your approbation; in which I can partly join with you, if you con- sider them only as specimens of our ancient eloquence. The same might be said of Afri- canus and La^lius, than whose languao-e (you tell us) nothing in the world can be sweeter : nay, you have mentioned it with a kind of ve- neration, and endeavoured to dazzle our iudo-. ment by the great character they bore, and the uncommon elegance of their manners. Divest itof these adventitious graces, and this sweet language of theirs will appear so homely, as to be scarcely worth noticing. Carbo too was mentioned as one of our capital orators; and for this only reason, — that in speaking, as in all other professions, whatever is the best of its kind, for the time being, how deficient soever in reality, is always admired and applauded. What I have said of Carbo, is eqally true of the Gracchi : though, in some particulars, the cha- racter you have given them was no more than they ^ 186 ihcy deserved. But to say nothing of the rest of your orators, let us proceed to Antonius and Crassus, your two paragons of eloquence, whom I have heard myself, and who were cer- tainly very able speakers. To the extraordinary commendation you have bestowed upon them, I can readily give my assent ; but not, how- ever, in such an unlimited manner as to pur- suade myself that you have received as much improvement from the speech in support of the Servilian law, as Lysippus said he had done by studying the famous '" statue of Polycletus. What you have said on this occasion I consider as an absolute ironi/ : but I shall not inform you why I think so, lest you should imagine I •iesign to flatter you. I shall therefore pass over the many fine encomiums you have bestowed upon these ; and what you have said of Cotta and Sulpicius, and but very lately of your pupil Cselius. I acknowledge, however, that we may call them orators : but as to the nature and extent of their merit, let your own judgment decide. It is scarcelv worth observing, that you have had the additional good-nature to crowd n Dorifphorus, A spcar-roau. 187 crowd so many daubers into your list, that there are some, I believe, who will be ready to wish they had died long ago, that you might have had an opportunity to insert their names among the rest. You have opened a wide field of enquiry, said I, and started a subject which deserves a separate discussion; but we must defer it to a more convenient time. For, to settle it, a great variety of authors must be examined, and especially Cato : M^hich could not fail to convince you, that nothing was wanting to complete his pieces, but those rich and glowing colours which had not then been invented. As to the above oration of Crassus, he himself, perhaps, could have written better, if he had been willing to take the trouble; but nobody else, I believe, could have mended it. You have no reason, therefore, to think I spoke ironically, when I mentioned it as the guide and tutoress of my eloquence : for though you seem to have a higher opinion of my capacity, in its present state, you must remember that, in our youth, we could find nothing better to imi- tate among the Romans. And as to myadmit- ting so many into my list of orators, I only did it (as I have already observed) to shew how few have succeeded in a profession, in which all 18S all were desirous to excel. I therefore insist upon it that you do not consider vie in the pre- sent case as an ironisl ; thpugh we are inform- ed by C. Fannius, in his history, that Afri- camts was a very excellent one. As you please about that, cried Atticus : though, by the bye, I did not imagine it would have been any disgrace to you, to be what Africanus and Socrates have been before you. We may settle this another time, interrupted Brutus : but will you be so obliging, said he, (addressing himself to me) as to give us a critical analysis of some of the old speeches you have mentioned ? Very willingly, replied I ; but it must be at Cuma, or Tuseulum, when opportunity offers : for we are near neighbours, you know, in both places. At present let us return to Hortensimy from whom we have digressed a second time. Hortensius, then, who began to speak in pub- lic when he was very young, was soon employ- ed even in causes of the greatest moment : and thougli he first appeared in the time of Cotta and Sulpicius, (w'ho were only ten years older) and when Crassus and Antonius, and after- wards Philip and Julius, w^re in the height of their reputation, he was thought worthy to be compared with either of them in point of elo qu encc. 189 quencc. He had such an excellent memory as I never knew in any person ; so that what he had composed in private, he was able to repeat, without notes, in the very same w^ords he had made use of at first. He employed this natural advantage with so much readiness, that he not only recollected whatever he had written or pre- meditated himself, but remembered every thing that had been said by his opponents, without the help of a prompter. He was likewise in- flamed with such a passionate fondness for the profession, that I never saw any one, M'ho took more pains to improve himself; for he would not suffer a day to elapse, without either speak- ing in the forum, or composing something at home ; and very often he did both in the same day. He had, besides, a turn of expression which was very far from being low and unek- vated; and possessed two other accomplish- ments, in wdiich no one could equal him, — an uncommon clearness and accuracy in stating the points he was to discuss ; and a neat and easy manner of collecting the substance of what had been said by his antagonist, and by himself. He had likewise an elegant choice of words, an agreeable fiow^ in his periods, and a copious elocution, for which he was partly in- debted 190 debtcd to a fine natural capacity, and partly acquired by the most laborious rhetorical exer- cises. In short, he had a most retentive view of his subject, and always divided and distribu- ted it into distinct parts with the greatest ex- actness ; and he very seldom overlooked any thing which the case could suggest, that was proper either to support his own allegations, or to refute those of his opponent. Lastly, he had a sweet and sonorous voice ; but his sresturc had rather more art in it, and was managed with more precision than is requisite to an orator. While he was in the height of his glory, Crassus died, Cotta was banished, our public trials were intermitted by the Marsic war, and I myself made my first appearance in the forum. Hortensius joined the army, and served the first campaign as a volunteer, and the second as a military tribune: Sulpicius was made a lieute- nant general ; and Antonius was absent on a similar account. The only trial we had, was that upon the Varian law ; the rest, as I have just observed, having been intermitted by the war. We had scarcely any body left at the bar but L. IMemmius, and Q. Pompeius, who spoke mostly on their own affairs ; and, though far from being orators of the first distinction, WCJC 191 were yet tolerable ones, (if we may credit Phi- lippus, who was himself a man of some elo-^ quence) and in su|)porting an evidence, dis- played all the poignancy of a prosecutor, with a moderate freedom of elocution* The rest, who were esteemed our capital speakers, were then in the magistracy, and I had the benefit of hearing their harangues almost every day« C. Curio was chosen a tribune of the people ; though he left off speaking after being once deserted by his whole audience. To him I may add Q. Mctellus Celer, who, though cer- tainly no orator, was far from being destitute of utterance : but Q. Varius, C. Carbo, and Cn, Pomponius, were men of real elocution, and might almost be said to have lived upon the rostra. C Julius too, who was then a Curulc iEdile, was daily employed in making speeches to the people, which were composed with great neatness and accuracy. But while I attended the forum with this eager curiosity, my first disappointment was the banishment of Cotta : after which I continued to hear the rest with the same assiduity as before ; and though I daily spent the remainder of my time in read- ing, writing, and private declamation, I cannot say that 1^ much relished my confinement to these A 'i) 192 these preparatory exercises. The next year Q. Variiis was condemned, and banished, by his own law : and I, that I might acquire a com- petent knowledge of the principles of jurispru- dence, then attached myself to Q. Scsevcla, the son of Pubhus, who, though he did not choose to undertake the charge of a pupil, yet by freely giving his advice to those who con- sulted him, he answered every purpose of in- struction to such as took the trouble to apply to him. In the succeeding year, in which Sylla and Pompey were consuls, as Sulpicius, who w^as elected a tribune of the people, had occa- sion to speak in public almost every day, I had an opportunity to acquaint myself thoroughly with his manner of speaking. At this time Philo, a philosopher of the first name in the academy, with many of the principal Athe- nians, having deserted their native home, and fled to Rome, from the fury of Mithridatcs, I immediatelv became his scholar, and was ex- ceedingly taken with his philosophy ; and, be- sides the pleasure I received fron) the great variety and sul)limity of his matter, I was still more inclined to confine my attention to that study ; because there was reason to apprehend that our laws and judicial proceedings would be 193 be wholly overturned by the continuance of the public disorders. In the same year Sulpi- cius lost his life ; and Q. Catulus, M. Anto- nius, and C. Julius, three orators, who were partly contemporary with each other, were most inhumanly put to death. Then also I at- -^ tended the lectures of Molo the Rhodian, who Avas newly come to Rome, and was both an excellent pleader, and an able teacher of the art. I have mentioned these particulars, which, perhaps, may appear foreign to our purpose, that you, my Brutus, (for Atticus is already ac- quainted with them) may be able to mark my progress, and observe how closely T trod n.[>an,. \ th ^ecls of Hortensiu s, The three following i ^ years the city was free from the tumult of arms ; but either by the death, the voluntary retire- ment, or the flight of our ablest orators (for even M. Crassus, and the two Lentuli, who were then in the bloom of youth, had all left us) Hortensius, of course, was the first speaicer in the forum. Antistius too was daily rising into reputation-, — Piso pleaded pretty often, — Pom- ponius not so frequently, — Carbo, very seldom, — and Philippus only once or twice. In the mean while I pursued my studies of every Vol. II. O kind, r 194 ■ kind, day and night, with unremitting applica- , -i 6 J tion. I lodged and boarded at my own house (where he lately died) Diodotus the Stoic ; whom I employed as my preceptor in various other parts of learning, but particularly in lo- S^ o-ic which mav be considered as a close and contracted species of eloquence ; and without which, you yourself have declared it impossi- ble to acquire that full and perfect eloquence, which they suppose to be an open and dilated kind of looic. Yet w^ith all my attention to Diodotus, and the various arts he was master of I never suffered even a single day to escape me, without some exercise of the oratorial kind. 1'' ^' I constantly declaimed in private with M. Pi- so, Q. Pompeius, or some other of my acquaint- ance ; pretty often in Latin, but much oftener in Greek; because the Greek furnishes a oTcater variety of ornaments, and an oj:portu- nity ofimitating and introducing them into the Latin ; and because the Greek masters, who were far the best, could not correct and im- prove us, unless we declaimed in that Ian- \\ sruacre. This time was distinguished by a vio- lent struggle to restore the liberty of the re- public : the barbarous slaughter of the three orators, Scaevola, Carbo, and Antistius ;— the return 195 return of Cotta, Curio, Crassus, Pompey, and theLentuH; there-establishment of the laws and courts of judicature ; and the entire resto- ration of the commonwealth : but w^e Ipst Pomponius, Censorinus, and Murena, from the roll of orators. I now began, for the Jirst time, to undertake the management of causes, both private and public; not, as most did, with a view to learn my profession, but to make a trial of the abilities which I had taken so much pains to acquire. I had then a second opportunity of attending the instruc- tions of Molo ; who came to Rome, while Sylla was dictator, to solicit the payment of what was due to his countrymen, for their services in the Mithridatic m ar. My defence of Sext. lloscius, which was the first cause I - pleaded, met with such a favourable reception, that, from that moment, I was looked upon as an advocate of the first class, and equal to the greatest and most important causes: and after this I pleaded many others, which I pre- composed with all the care and accuracy I was master of. But as you seem desirous not so much to be acquainted with any incidental marks of my character, or the first sallies of my youtl], as O 2 to :^ i V ^ :' -* 196 to know me thoroughly, I shall mention some particulars, whicli otherwise might have seem- ed unnecessary. At this time my body was exceedingly weak and emaciated; my neck long, and slender; a shape and habit, which I thought to be liable to great risk of life, if engaged in any violent fatigue, or labour of the lungs. And it gave the greater alarm to those who had a regard for me, that I used to speak without any remission or variation, with the utmost stretch of my voice, and a total agitation of my body. When my friends, there- fore, and physicians, advised me to meddle no more with forensic causes, I resolved to run any hazard, rather than (juit the hopes of glory, which I had proposed to myself from j)leading : but when I considered, that by managing my voice and changing my way of speaking, I might both avoid all future danger of that kind, and speak with greater ease, I took a resolution of travelling into Asia, merely for an opportunity to correct my manner of speak- ing. So that after I had been two years at the bar, and acquired some reputation in the forum, ^ . ^ I left Rome. When I came to Athens, I spent six months with Antiochus, the princi- pal and most judicious philosopher oi the old academy ; 197 ^ acadeniy ; and under this able master, I renew- ed those philosophical studies which I had laboriously cultivated and improved from my earliest youth. At the same time, however, I continued my rhetorical exercises under Deme- trius the Syrian, an experienced and reputable master of the art of speaking. After leaving Athens, I traversed every part of Asia, where I was voluntarily attended by the principal orators of the country, with whom I renewed my rhetorical exercises. The chief of them was jVIenippus of Stratonica, the most eloquent of all the Asiatics : and if to be neither tedious nor impertinent is the characteristic of an Attic orator, he may be justly ranked in that class. Dionysius also of Magnesia, ^schilus of Cnidos, and Xenocles of Adramyttus, who were esteemed the first rhetoricians of Asia, were continually with me. Not contented with -these, I went to Rhodes, and applied myself again to IVIolo, whom I had heard before at Rome ; and who was both an experienced pleader, and a fine writer, and particularly judicious in remarking the faults of his scholars, as well as in his method of teaching and im- proving them. His principal trouble with me, ^ was to restrain the luxuriancy of a juvenile ima- O 3 ginatiott, 198 gination, always ready to overflow its banks, within its due and proper channel. Thus, after an excursion of two years, I returned to Italy, not only much improved, but almost changed into a new man. The vehemence of my voice and action was considerably abated; the excessive ardour of my language was cor- rected ; my lungs were strengthened ; and my whole constitution confirmed and settled. Two orators then reigned in the forum ; (I mean Cotta and liortensius) whose glory fired my emulation. Cotta's way of speaking was calm and easy, and distinguished by the flowing elegance and propriety of his language. The other was splendid, warm, and animated ; not such as you my iJrutus, have seen him, when he had shed the blossom of his elo- quence, but far more lively and pathetic both in his style and action. As Hor^ensius, there- fore, was nearer to me in age, and his manner more agreeable to tlic natural ardour of my temper, I considered him as the proper object of my competition. For I observed that when they were both engaged in the same cause (as for instance, when they defended M. Canuleius, and Cn. Dolabella, a man of consular dignity) though Cotta was generally employed to open the 199 the defence, the most important parts of it were left to the management of Hortensius, For a crowded audience, and a clamorous forum, require an orator who is lively, animated, full of action, and ^ble to exert his voice to the highest pitch. The first year, therefore, after my return from Asia, I undertook several capi- tal causey; and in the interim I put up as a candidate for the quasstorship, Cotta for the consulate, and Hort^sius for the edileship. After I was chosen quaestor, I passed a year in Sicily, the province assigned to me by lot: Cotta wei^t as consul into Gaul ; and Horten- sius, whose new office required his presence at Rome, was left of course the undisputed sove- reign of the forum. In the suqceedipg year, when I returned from Sicily, my oratorial talents, such as they were, displayed tiiemselve$ in their full perfection and maturity. I have been saying too much, perhaps, con- cerning myself; but my design in it was not to make a parade of my eloquence and ability, which I have no temptation to do, but only to specify the pains and labour which I have t^ken to unprove it- After spending the five succeeding year? in pleading a variety of causes, and with the ablest advocates of the time, I Q 4 was •^ 200 was declared an edilc and undertook the pa- tronage of the Sicilians against Hortensius, who was then one of the consuls elect. But as the subject of our conversation not only re- quires an historical detail of orators, but such preceptive remarks as may be necessary to elucidate their characters; it will not be impro- per to make some observations of this kind upon that of Hortensius. After his appoint- ment to the consulship (very probably^ because he saw none of consular dignity who were able to rival him, and despised the competition of others of inferior rank) he began to remit that intense application which he had hitherto persevered in from his childhood ; and having settled himself in very affluent circumstances, he chose to live for the future what he thought an tasij life, but which, in truth, was rather an indolent one. In the three succeeding years, the beauty of his colouring was so much impaired, as to be very perceptible to a skilful connois- seur, thougli not to a common observer. After that, he grew every day more unlike himself than before, not only in other parts of elo- quencc, but by a gradual decay of the former celerity and elegant texture of his language. I, at the same time, spared no pains to improve and 201 and enlarge my talents, such as they were, by ev^ery exercise that was proper for the purpose, but particularly by that of writing. Not to mention several other advantages I derived from it, I shall only observe, that about this time, and but a very few years after my sedile- ship, I was declared the first pra3tor, by the unanimous suffrages of my fellow-citizens. For, by my diligence and assiduity as a pleader, and my accurate way of speaking, which was rather superior to the ordinary style of the bar, the novelty of my eloquence had engaged the attention, and secured the good wishes of the public. But I will say nothing of myself : I will confine my discourse to omToTtT^F speakers, among whom there is not one who has gained more than a common acquaintance with those parts of literature, which feed the springs of eloquence : not one who has been thoroughly nurtured at the breast of philosophy, which is ^ the mother of every excellence either in deed or speech : ngt one who has acquired an accurate knowledge of the civil law, which is so neces- ^ sary for the management even of private causes, and to direct the judgment of an orator: not one who is a complete master of the Roman - history, which would enable us, on many occa- sions^ ViJ>. -..v:: bions, to appeal to the venerable evidence of the dead : not one wlio can entangle his opponent in such a neat and humorous man- ner, as to relax the severity of the judges into a smile or an open laugh : not one who knows how to dilate and expand his subject, by re- ducing it from the limited considerations of lime, and person, to some general and inde- finite topic ; not one who knows how to enliven it by an agreeable digression: not one who can rouse the indignation of the judge, or extort from him the tear of compassion ; or who can influence and bend his soul (which is confessedly the capital perfection of an orator) \ iu such a manner as shall best suit his purpose. When Hortensius, therefore, the once elo-r quent and admired Hortensius, had almost vanished from the forun^, my appointment to the consulship, which happened about six years after his own promotion to that office, revived liis dying emulatfon ; for he was unwilling tliat, after I had equalled him in rank and dignity, I should become his superior in any other lespect. But in the twelve succeeding yeai-s, by a mutual deference to each other's abilities, we united our efforts at the bar in the most amicable manner : and my consulship, which at 203 at first had given a short alarm to his jealousy, afterwards cemented our friendship, by the generous candoj: with which he applaud- ed my conduct. But our emulous efforts were exerted in the most conspicuous manner, just before the commencement of that unhappy period, when eloquence herself was confounded and terrified by the din of arms into a sudden and a total silence : for after Pompey had pro- posed and carried a law, which allowed even the party accused but three hours to make his defence, I appeared, (though comparatively as a mere noviciate by this new regulation) in a number of causes which, in fact, were become perfectly the same, or very nearly so ; most of which, my Brutus, you was present to hear, as having been my partner and fellow-advocate in many of them, though you pleaded several by yourself; and Hortensius, though he died a short time afterwards, bore his share in these limited efforts. He began to plead about ten years before the time of your birth ; and in his sixty-fourth year, but a very few days before his death, he was engaged with you in the de- fence of Appius your father-in-law. As to our respective talents, the orations wc have published £04 published will enable posterity to form a proper judgment of tlicm. But if we mean to enquire, why Ilortensius was more admired for his eloquence in the younger part of his life, than in his latter years, we shall find it owing to the following causes. The first was, that an Asiatic style is more allowable in a young man than in an old one. t)f this there are two different kinds. The iormer is sententious and sprightly, and abounds in those turns of sentiment which are not so ranch distinguished by their weight and so- lidity as by their neatness and elegance ; of this cast was Tima^us the historian, and the two orators so much talked of in our younger days, Hieroclcs the Alabandean, and his brother Menecles, but particularly the latter; both whose orations may be reckoned master-pieces of the kind. The other sort is not so remarkable for the plenitude and richness of its sentiments, as for its rapid volubility of expression, which at present is the ruling taste in Asia ; but, besides its uncommon fluency, it is recommended by a choice of words which are peculiarly delicate and ornamental : of this kind were iEschylus the Gnidian, and my contemporary iEschines the Milesian; for they had an admirable com- mand 205 mand of language, with very httle elegance of sentiment. These showy kinds of eloquence are agreeable enough in young people; but they are entirely destitute of that gravity and composure which befits a riper age. As Hor- tensius therefore excelled in both, he was heard with applause in the earlier part of his Ufe. For he had all that fertility and graceful variety of sentiment which distinguished the character of Menecles : but, as in Menecles, so in him, there were many turns of sentiment which were more delicate and entertaining than really useful, or indeed sometimes convenient. His language also w^as brilliant and rapid, and yet perfectly ii^t and accurate ; but by no means agreeable to men of riper years. I have often, seen it received by Philippus with the utmost derision, and upon some occasions, with a con- temptuous indignation : hut the younger part of the audience admired it, and the populace were highly pleased with it. In his youth, therefore, he met the warmest approbation of the public, and maintained his post with ease as the first orator in the forum. For the style he chose to speak in, though it has little weight, or authority, appeared very suitable to his age : and as it discovered in him the most visible marks £06 marks of genius and application, and was re- commended by the numerous evidence of his periods, he was heard with universal applause. But when the honours he afterwards rose to, and the dignity of his years, required something more serious and composed, he still continued to appear in the same character, though it no longer became him: and as he had, for some considerable time, intermitted those exercises, and relaxed that laborious attention which had once distinguished him, though his former neatness of expression, and luxuriancy of senti- ment still remained, they were stripped of those brilliant ornaments they had been used to wear. For this reason, perhaps, my Brutus, he ap|)eared less pleasing to you than he would have done, if you had been old enough to hear him, when he was fired with emulation, and flourished in the full bloom of his eloquence. I am perfectly sensible, said Brutus, of the justice of your remarks ; and yet I have al- ways looked upon liortensius as a great ora- tor, but especially when he pleaded for Messa- la, in the time of j-our absence. I have often heard of it, replied I, and his oration, wliich was afterwards published, they say, in the very same words in which he delivered it, is no way \ 207 way inferior to the character you give it. Up- on the whole, then, his reputation flourished from the time of Crassus and Sca^vola (reck- oning from the consulship of the former) to the consulship of Pauilus and Marcellus : and I held out in the same career of glory from the dictatorship of Sylla, to the period I have last mentioned. Thus the eloquence of Hortensius was extinguished by his ^tv^ death, and mine by that of the commonwealth. Ominate more favourably, I beg of you, cried Brutus. As favourably as you please, said I, and that not so much upon my own account, as jours. But his death v/as truly fortunate, who did not live to behold the miseries, which he had long foreseen. For we often lamented, between ourselves, the misfortunes which hung over the state, when we discovered the seeds of a civil w^ar in the insatiable ambition of a few private citizens, and saw every hope of an ac- commodation excluded by the rashness and precipitancy of our public counsels. But the felicity which always marked his life, seems to have exempted him, by a seasonable death, from the calamities that followed. But, as after the decease of Hortensius, we seem to have been left, my Brutus, as the sole guar- dians 208 • « \ dians of *an orphan eloquence, let us cherish her, within our own walls at least, with a ire- nerous fidelity : let us discourage the address-; es of her worthless, and impertinent suitors ; let us preserve her pure and unhlemished in all her virgin charms, and secure her, to the ut- most of our ahilitv, from the lawless violence of every armed rufhan. I must own, how- ever, though I am heartily grieved that I en- tered so late upon the road of life, as to be overtaken by a gloomy night of public dis- tress, before I had finished my journey ; that I am not a little relieved by the tender conso- lation which you administered to me in your very agreeable letters ; — in which you tell me I ought to recollect my courage, since my past transactions are such as will speak for me when I am silent, and survive my death, — and such as, if the Gods permit, will bear an am- ple testimony to the prudence and integrity of my public counsels, by the final restoration of the republic: — or, if otherwise, by burying me in the ruins of my country. But when I look upon t/ou, my Brutus, it fills me with an2:uish to reflect that, in the vi- gour of your youth, and when you was making the most rapid progress in the road to fame, you v 209 your career was suddenly stopped by the fatal overthrow of the commonwealth. This un- happy circumstance has stung me to the heart ; and not me only, but my worthy friend here, who has the same affection for you, and the same esteem for your merit which I have. We have the warmest wishes for your happiness, and heartily pray that you may reap the re- wards of your excellent virtiies, and live to ^ find a republic in which you will be able, not only to revive, but even to add to the fame of your illustrious ancestors. For the forum was your birth-right, your native theatre of action ; and you was the only person that entered it, who had not otily formed his elocution by a rigorous course of private practice, but enrichedT his oratory with the furniture of philosophical/ science, and tlilis united the highest virtue to the most consurilhiate eloquence. Your situSV tion, therefore, wounds us with the double anxiety that you are deprived of the republic, and the republic oi you. But still continue, my Brutus, (notwithstandingthecareer of your genius has been checked by the rude shock of our public distresses) continue to pursue your favourite studies, and endeavour, (what you have almost, or rather intirely effected already) Vol. II. ' P to \^l ■•% .210 to distinguish yourself from the promiscuous crowd of pleaders with which I have loaded the little history I have been giving you. For it would ill befit you, (richly furnished as you are with those liberal arts, which, unable to ac- quire at home, you imported from that celebrat- ed city which has always been revered as the seat of learning) to pass after all as an ordinary pleader. For to wliat purposes have you studi- ed under Pammcnes, the most eloquent man in Greece ; or what advantage have you derived from the dispciline of the old academy, and its hereditary master Aristus (my guest, and very intimate accpiaintancc) if you still rank your- self in the common class of orators ? Have ue not seen that a whole age could scarcely fur- nish two speakers \vho really excelled in their profession ? Among a crowd qf contemporaries, Galba, for instance, was the^iHily orator of dis- tinction : for old Cato (we are informed) was obliged to yield to his superior merit, as were likewise, his two juniors, Lepidus and Carbo. But, in a public harangue, the style of his suc- cessors the Gracchi was far more easy and lively : and yet, even in their time, the Roman eloquence had not reached its perfection. Af- terwards came Antonius, and Crassus; and then Cotta, 211 Cotta, Sulpiciu% Hortensius, and— but I say U9 more : I can only add, that if I had been soihr- tunate, &c. Scc.—[Ccct€radesimt} P 2 THE THE ORATOR, BY 'I MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO ; ADDRESSED TO MARCUS BRUTUS ; AKD NOW flP^T TRANSLATED I ROM HIE ORIGINAL LATI>. " ^ong charms the Seuse, but Eloquence the Soul." Milton. P 3 THE ORATOR. .« VV HICH, my BrutuSj would be the most yy-^;^^; difficul t task, — to decline answering a request which you have so often repeated, or to gratify it to your satisfaction, — 1 have long been at a loss to determine. I should be extremely sorry to deny any thing to a friend for whom I have the warmest esteem, and who, I am sen- sible, has an equal affection for me ; — especially, as he has only desired me to undertake a sub- ject which may justly claim my attention. Butj to delineate a character, which it would be very! difficult, I will not say to acquire, but even to comprehend m its full extent, I thought was toa bold an undertaking for him who reveres the censure of the wise and learned. For, consider- ing the great diversity of manner among the ablest speakers, how exceedingly difficult must it be to determine which is best, and give a finished model of eloquence? This, however, in compliance with your repeated solicitations, P 4 I shall / 1216 I shall now attempt; — not so much from any h opes of succeeding , as from a strong inclination to make the trial. For I had rather, by yield- ing to your wishes, give you room to complain of my insufficiency ; than, by a peremptory denial, tempt you to question my friendship. You de- sire to know, then, (and you liave often repeat- ed your request) what kind of eloquence I *inost approve, and can look upon to be so liighly finished, as to require no farther im- provement, lint should I be able to answer your expectations, and display, in its full perfec- tion, the orator you enquire after ; I am afraid I shall retard the industry of many, wlio, en- feebled by despair, will no longer attempt what they think themselves incapable of attaining. It is but reasonable, liowever, that all tliose who covet what is excellent, and which cannot be ac(juired without the greatest application, should exert their utmost. /l]ut if anv one is deficient in capacity, and destitute of that admirable force of genius which nature bestows upon her favourites, or has been denied the ad- vantages of a liberal education, let him make the progress lie is able?) For while we are striv- ing to overtake the foremost, it is no disgrace to be found among the second class, or even the third. ■' 217 third. Thus, for instance, among the poets^ we respect the merit not only of a Home)*' (that I may confine myself to the Greeks) or of ArchilochuSj Sophocles, or Pindar, but of many others who occupied the second, or even a lower place. In philosophy, also, the diffu- sive majesty of Plato has not deterred Jris- totle from entering the list ; nor has Aristotle himself, with all his wonderful knowledge and fertility of thought, disheartened the endea- vours of others. Nay, men of an elevated genius have not only disdained to be intimidated from the pursuit of literary fame ; — but the very artists and me- chanics have never relinquished their profes- sion, because they were unable to equal the beauty of that lasijlus which we have seen at Rhodes, or of the celebrated Venus in the island of Coos : — nor has the noble ima2:e of Olympian Jove, or the famous statue of tlie man at arms, deterred others from making trial of their abilities, and exerting their skill to the utmost. Accordingly, such a large number of them has appeared, and each has performed so well in his own undertaking, that we cannot help being pleased with their productions, not- withstanding our admiration at the nobler efforts I I £18 efforts of the great masters of the chisscl. But amono- the orators, I mean those of (Greece, it is astonishing how much one of them has sur- passed the rest :— and yet, (hough there \i/as a Deviosihenes, there were even then many other orators of considerahle merit ;— and such there were hefore he made liis appearance, nor have they heen wanting since. There is, therefore, no reason why those who have devoted them- selves to the study of elotjuence, should suffer their hopes to languish, or their industry to flag. For, in the first place, even that which is most excellent is not to be despaired of ;— and, in all w^orthy attempts, that which is next to what is best is great and noble, (hxii in sketching out the character of a complete ora- ( tor, it is possible I may exhibit such a one as Vjiath never yet existed^ For I am not to point out the speaker, but to delineate the eloquenee than which nothing can be more perfect of the kind :— an elo(iuence which hath blazed forth throuo'h a whole harangue but seldom, and, it mav Ik? never ; but only here and there, like a transcient gleam, though, in some orators more frequently, and in others, perhaps, more spar- ingly. My opinion, then, is,— that there is no human production of any kind, so completely beautiful, i £19 bt!autifal, than which there is not a somtthhig titill more beautiful, from which the other is copied like a portrait from real life, and which can be discerned neither by our eyes nor ears, nor any of our bodily senses, but is visible only to thought and imagination, TlK>ugh the statues, therefore, of Phidias, and the other imaoes abovementioned, are all so wonderfully charming, that nothing can be found which is nioj'e excellent of the kind ; we may still, how- ever, suppose a something which is more exqui- site, and more complete. For it must not be thought that tlic ingenious artist, when he was sketching out the form of a Jupiter, or a Mi- nerva, borrowed the likeness from any parti- cular object;— but a certain admirable sem- blance of beauty was present to his mind, which he viewed and dwelt upon, and by which his skill and his hand were guided. As, therefore, in mere bodily shape and figure there is a kind of perfection, to whose ideal appearance every production which falls under the notice of the eye is referred by imi- tation ; so the semblance of what is perfect in oratory may become visible to the mind, and the ear may labour to catch a likeness. . These primary forms of things are by Plato (the father of m • '. •'•♦ 220 of science and dignity of language) called .y' ^ ixleas ; and he tells us thev have neither besfin- ning nor end, but are coeval with reason and • intelligence ; while every thing besides has a derived, and a transitory existence, and passes * away and decays, so as to cease in a short time to be the thing it was. Whatever, therefore, may be discussed by reason and method, should be constantly reduced to the primary form or semblance of its respective model. lam sen- sible that this introduction, as being derived, not from the principles of eloquence, but from the deepest recesses of philosophy, will excite the censure, or at least the wonder of many, who will think it both unfashionable and intri- cate. For they will either be at a loss to dis- cover its connexion with my subject, (though they will soon be convinced by what follows, that, if it appears to be far-fetched, it is not so without reason) or they will blame me, perhaps, for deserting the beaten track, and strikingout into a new one. But I am satisfied that I often appear to advance novelties, when I offer senti- ments which are, indeed, of a much earlier date, ^ but happen to be generally unknow^n : and *^ T\ frankly acknowledge that I came forth an • J^iatgr, (if indeed F am one, or whatever else I \ niay 4 # V *i 221 may be deemed) not from the schools of the rhetoricians, but from the spacious \valks of the- academy. For these are the theatres of diver fiificd and extensive arguments which were first impressed w ith the foot-steps of Plato ; and his dissertations, with those of otlier philoso- phers, will be found of the greatest utility to an orator, both for his exercise and improve- ment ; because all the fertility, and, as it were, the materials of eloquence, are to be derived from thence ; — but not, however, sufficiently prepared for the business of the forum, which, as themselves have frequently boasted, they aban- doned to the rustic muses of the vulorar ! Thus the eloquence of the forum, despised and reject- ed by the philosophers, was bereaved of her greatest advantages-— but, nevertheless, being arrayed in all the brilliance of language and sentiment, she made a figuje among the popu- lace, nor feared the censure of the judicious few. By this means, the learned became destitute of ^ licipulai' eloquence, and the orators of polite learning. We may, therefore, consider it as a capital maxim, (the truth of which will b^ more easily]" understood in the sequel) that the eloquent speaker we are enquiring after, caniiot be form- ed IZ» ed without the assistance of philosophy. 1 do not mean that this alone is sufficient ; but only (for it is sometimes necessary to compare great things to small) that it will contribute to im- prove him in the same manner as Xhtpalastra'' does an actor ; because, without philosophy, no man can speak fully and copiously upon a va- riety of important subjects which come under the notice of an orator. Accordingly, in the Pb*e of thino-s and words. Antonius, SL 224 Autonius/ therefore, to whom our anccstoi.s adjudged the palm of eloquence, and who had much natural penetration and sagacity, hasoh- served, in the only book he published, that he ckti^^^ had seen many nood speake rs, but not a single Clejui<:t*^' orator. The full and perfect semblance of eloquence had so thoroughly possessed his mind, and was so completely visible there, ^ though no where exemplified in practice, that this consummate genius, (for such, indeed, he wasj observing many defects both in himseU and others, could discover no one who merited the name oi eloquent. But if he considered 7-/ neither himself, no/ Lucius Crassus, as a ge- nuine orator, he musthaveformedin his mind a sublim^jdea of elo(|uence, under which, be- cause there was nothing wanting to complete it, he could not comprehend those speakers who were any ways deficient. Let us then, my 'Brutus, {if we are able) trace out the orator whom Antonius never saw, and who, it may be, has never yet existed ; for though we have not \the skill to copy his likeness in real practice, (a - * task • A celebrated orator, and gi ail Jfathcr to M. Antonitis the Triumvir. 225 task which, in the opinion of the person above- mentioned, a superior being could scarcely effect) we may be able, perhaps, to give some account of what he ojught to be. -^'^ ' Good speaking, then, may be divided into tliree characters, in each of which there are some who have made an eminent figure : but to be equally excellent in all (which is what we require) has been the happiness of few. The lofty and majestic speaker, who distinguishes himself by the energy of his sentiments, and the dignity of his expression, is impetuous, — diversified, —copious, — and weighty, — and abundantly qualified to rouse and sway the passions ;— which some effect by a harsh, and a rough, gloomy way of speaking, without any harmony or measure : and others by a smooth, a regular, and a well-proportioned style. On the other hand, the fluent ^nd minute speaker being dexterous and acute, aims at nothing but our information, and make every thing he discourses upon,, rather clear and open than great and striking, and polishes it w^ich the utmost neatness and accuracy. But some of this kind of speakers, who are distinguished by their peculiar artifice, are designedly unpolish- ed, and appear rude and unskilful, that they Vol. II. Q i^ay 226 may have the better opportunity of deceiving us:— while others, with the same poverty of style, are far more elegant and agreeable,— that is, they arc pleasant and facetious, and sometimes even florid, with here and there an easy ornament. But there is likewise a middle kind of oratory, between the two above-men- tioned, which neither has the keenness of the latter, nor hurls the thunder of the former ; but is a mixture of both, without exceUing in either, though at the same time it has some- thing of each, or (perhaps more properly) is equally destitute of the true merit of both. This species of eloquence flows along in an uni- form course, having nolhing to recommend it, but its peculiar smoothness and equability; though, at the same time, it intermingles a number of decorations, like the tufts of flowers in a garland, and embellishes a discourse from beo-innins: to end with the moderate and les* Striking ornaments of language and sentiment. Those who have attained to any degree of per- fection in either of the above characters, have been distinguished jts eminent orators : but the question is, whether any of them have com. passed what we are seeking after, and succeed- ed equally in all. For For there have been several who could speak nervously and majestically, and yet, upon oc- casion, could express themselves with the greatest address and simplicity. I wish I could - refer to such an orator, or at least to one who nearly resembles him, among the Romans ; for - it would certainly have been more to our cre- dit to be able to refer to proper examples of our own, and not be necessitated to have re- ^,f. C^C^i/^ is capable of exciting. The finished orator, therefore, who is the subject of this Essay, in whatever manner he would appear to be affect- ed himself, and touch the heart of his hearer, will employ a suitable and corresponding tone of voice : — a topic which I could willingly en- large upon, if delivering precepts was any part of my present design, or of your request. I should likewise have treated concerning ges- /wre, of which the management of the coun- tenance is a material part : for it is scarcely credible of what great importance it is to an orator to recommend himself by these external accomplishments. For even those who were far from being masters of good language, have many times, by the sole dignity of their action, reaped the fruits of eloquence ; while others who had the finest powers of elocution, have too often, by the mere awkwardness of their delivery, led people : 3 imagine that they were scarcely able to express themselves : — so that Demosthenes, with sufficient reason, assigned the first place, and likewise the second and third, io p ronunciat iou. For if eloquence with- out this is nothing, but this, even without elo- quence, has such a wonderful efficacy, it must be allowed to bear the principal sway in the practice practice of speaking. If an orator, then, who is ambitious to win the palm of eloquence, has any thing to deliver which is warm and cut- ting, let his voice be strong and quick ; — if what is calm and gentle, let it be mild and easy ; — if what is grave and sedate, let it be cool and settled ; — and if what is mournful and affecting, let his accents be plaintive and flexi- ble. For the voice may be raised or depressed, and extended or contracted to an astonishing degree; thus in music (for instance) its three tones, the meafiy the acute, and the g?^ave, may be so managed by art, as to produce a pleasing and an infinite variety of sounds. /^ Even in speaking there may be a concealed kind of music : — not like the whining epilogue of a Phrygian or a Carian declaimer, but such as was intended by ^Eschines, and Demosthenes, when the one upbraids and reproaches the other with the artificial modulations of his voice. Demosthenes, however, says most upon this head, and often speaks of his accuser as having a sweet and clear pronunciation. There is another circumstance, which may farther en- force our attention to the agreeable manage- ment of the voice ; for nature herself, as if she meant to harmonize the speech of man, has placed 252 placed an accent on every word, and one accent only, which never lies farther than the third syl- lable from the last. Why, therefore^ should we hesitate to follow her example, and do our best to gratify the ear ? A good voice, indeed, though a desirable accomplishment, is not in our power to acquire : — but to exercise, aiid improve it, is certainly in the power of every person. The orator, then, who means to be the prince of his profession, willchange and vary his voice with the most delicate propriety ; and by sometimes raising and sometimes depressing it, pursue ik gradually through all its different tones, and modulations. lie will likewise regulate his gesture^ so as to avoid even a single motion which is either super- fluous or impertinent. His posture will be erect and manlv : — he will move from his Gfround but seldom, and not even then too precipitately ; and his advances will be few and moderate. He will practise no languishing, no effeminate airs of the head, no finical playing of the fingers, no measured movement of the joints. The chief part of his gesture will consist in the firm and graceful sway of his body, and in ex- tending his arm when his arguments are press- ing, and drawing it again when his vehemence abates. But as to the countenance^ which ijext 253 next to the voice has the greatest efficacy, what dignity and gracefulness is it not capable of supporting ! And when you have been careful that it may neither be unmeaning, nor osten- tatious, there is still much to be left to the expression of the eyes. For if the countenance' is the image of the mind, the eyes are its inter- preters^ whose degree of pleasantry or sadness must be proportioned to the importance of our subject. /^ But we are to exhibit the portrait of a finished orator, whose chief excellence must be supposed, from his very name, to consist in his elocution; while his other qualifications (though equally complete) are less conspicuous. For a mere inventor, a mere digester, or a mere actor, are titles never made use of to comprise the whole character ; but an orator derives his name, both in Greek and Latin, from the single talent of elocution. As to his other qualifications, every man of sense may claim a share of them : but the full powers of language are exerted by himself alone. Some of the philosophers, indeed, have expressed themselves in a very elegant manner : for Theophrastus derived his name from the divinity of his style ; Aristotle rivalled the glory of Isocrat)/s ; smd^/ the \^' ov, th» becoming, but we shall call it decorum ; a subject which has been excellently and very copiouslv discussed, and richly merits our at- tention. 259 tention. The want of this has been the source of innumerable errors, not only in the business of life, but in poetry and eloquence. An orator/ therefore, should examine what is becoming, as well in the turn of his language, as in that of his sentiments. For not every condition, not every rank, not every cliaracter, nor every age, or place, or time, nor every hearer is to be treated with the same invariable train either of sentiment or expression :— f but we should always consider in every part of a^public oration^ as well as of life, what will he most becoming,- — a cir- cumstance which naturally depends on tiie nature of the subject, and the respective characters of the speaker and hearerj Philosophers, therefore, have carefully discussed this extensive and im- portant topic in the doctrine of Ethics , (though not, indeed, when they treat of right and WTong, because those are invariably the same :) — nor is it less attended to by the critics in their poetical essays, or by men of eloquence in every spe- cies and every part of their public debates. For what would be more out of character, than to use a lofty style, and ransack every topic of ar gument, when we are speaking only of a petty trespass in some inferior court ? Or, on the other Jiand, to descend to any puerile subtilties, S 2 and I 260 and speak with the indifference and tameness of a frivolous narrative, when wc are lashing treason and rebellion ? ir //ere, the indecorum would arise from the very nature and quality of the subject: but others arc equally guilty of it, by not adapting their dis- course either to their own characters, or to that of their hearers, and, in some cases, to that of their antagonist ; and they extend the fault not only to their sentiments, but to the turn of their expression. It is true, indeed, that language ^^v^ XL }i^^ has no force when it is not supported by a pro- t^i^uHu^^. per solidity of sentiment : but it is also equally cti.<^./,S7. ^^^^ ^j^^^ ^j^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^j^^g ^^.jj, ,^^ ^j^i^gj. approved ^ or rejected, according as it is this or that way 'expressed. In all cases, therefore, mc cannot be too careful in examining the how far ? for though every thing has its proper 7}iea)i, yet an e.vcess is always more offensive and disgusting than a proportionable defect. Apelles, there- fore, justly censures some of his contemporary artists, because they never knew when they had performed enough. This, my Brutus, as your long acquaintance with it must necessarily in- form you, is a copious subject, and would re- quire an extensive volume to discuss. But it is sufficient to our present purpose to observe, that sei that in all our words and actions, as well the smallest as the greatest, there is a something which will appear either becoming or unbecom- ing, and that almost every one is sensible of its consequence. But what is becoming, and what is necessary, are very different con- siderations, and belong to a different topic : — for the necessary points out the perfection of duty, which should be attended to upon all oc- casions, and by all persons : but the btcjmJMg de- 'y notes that which is merely proper, and suited to time and character, which is of great importance not only in our actions and language, but in our very looks, our gesture, and our walk ; and that which is contrary to it will always be unhecom- ing, and disagreeable. If the poet, therefore, carefully guards against any impropriety of the kind, and is always condemned as guilty of a fault, when he puts the language of a worthy man into the mouth of a ruffian, or that of a wise man into the mouth of a fool: — if, more- over, the artist who painted the sacrifice of Jphigenia*y could see that Cakhas should ap- S 3 pear • Agaipemnon, one of the Grecian chiefs, ha?ing by ac- cident slain a deer belonging to Diana, the Goddess was so enraged 262 pear greatly concerned, Uli/sses still more so, and Menelaus bathed in tears, but that the. head of Agamemnon (the virgin's fatherj" should be covered with his robe, to intimate a degree of anguish which no pencil could ex- press : lastly, if a mere actor on the stage is ever cautious to keep up the character he ap- ipears in, what must be done by the orator ? But as this is a matter of such iuiportance, let him consider, at his leisure, what is })roper, to be done in particular causes, and in their several parts and divisions : for it is sufficiently evi- dent, not only that the different parts of an oration, but that entire causes ought to be managed, enraged at this profanation of her honours, that she kept him wind-bound at Aulis with the |who!e fleet. Under this heavy disaster, having recourse to the oracle, (their usual refuge in such cases) they were informed that the only, atonement which the angry Goddess would accept, was the sacrifice of one of the offender's children. Ulysses having, by a stratagem, withdrawn Iphigenia from her mother for that purpose, the unhappy virgin was brought to the altar. But, as the story goes, the Goddess relenting at her hard fate, substituted a deer in her stead, and conveyed her away to serve her as a priestess, ft must be farther remarked, that Menclius was the virgin's uncle, and Calchas the priest who was to officiate at this horrid sacrifice. ^63 managed, some In one manner, and some in another. 2J We must now proceed to delineate the form and character of each of the three species of eloquence above-mentioned; a great and an arduous task, as I have already observed more than once ; But we should have considered the difficulty of the voyage before we embarked : for now we have ventured to set sail, we must run boldly be- fore the wind, whether we reach our port or not. The first character, then, to be described, is, the orator who, according to some, is the only one that has any just pretentions to Atticism, He is distinguished by his modest simplicity ; and as he imitates the language of conversation, he differs from those who are strangers to elo- quence, rather in reality than in appearance.— For this reason, those who hear him, though >^^.ft^;?^,^ totally unskilled in the art of speaking, arc apt to persuade themselves that they can readily discourse, in the same manner ;^— and S 4 the " There is a pretty remark to the same purpose in thc^ fifteenth number of The Guardian, which, as it may serve to illustrate the observation of Cicero, I shall beg leave to insert. «« From what I have advanced, it appears how difficult it 2^4 SG5 the unaffected simplicity of his language ap- pears very imitable to an ignorant observer; though nothing will be found less so by him who makes the trial. For, if I may so express myself, though his veins are not over-stocked with blood, his juices must be sound and good ; and though he is not possessed of any extraor- dinary strength, he must have a healthy consti- tution. For this purpose, we must first release him from the shackles of fiumher; for there is (you know) a kind of numbei^ to be observed by an orator, which we shall treat of in the se- quel : — ^but this is to be used in a different spe- . cies of eloquence, and to be reUnquished in the present. *^ it is to write eastlj/. But when easy writings fall into (he ^^ handsof an ordinary reader, they appear to him so natural ^' and unlaboured, that he immediately resohes to write, ^^ and fancies that all he has to do is to take no pains. — " Thus he. thinks indeed simply, but the thoughts no^t being '' chosen with judgment, arc not beautiful. lie, it is true, " expresses himself plainly, but flatly witliial. Again, if a ** man of vivacity takes it into his head to write this way, •^' what ^eif.denial must he undergo, when briglit points of ** wit occur to his fancy ? How ditficult will he find it to ^* reject tlorid phrases, and pretty embellishments of style? '' So true it i?;, that simplicity of all things is the hardest to *• be copied, and ease to be acquired with the greatest '• labour." present. His language, therefore, must be free and unconfined, but not loose and irregular ; that he may appear to walk at ease, without reeling or tottering. He will not be at the pains to cement word to word with a scrupulous ex- actness : for those breaks which are made by a collision of vowelsj have now and then an agree., able effect, and betray the not unpleasing neg- ligence of a man who is more solicitous about things than words. But though he is not to \ labour at a measured flow, and a masterly ar- [ rangement of his words, he must be careful in I other respects. For even these limited and un- aspiring talents are not to be employed care- lessly, but with a kind of industrious negli- gence : for as some females are most becoming in a dishabille, so this artless kind of eloquence has her charms, though she appears in an un- dress. There is something in both which ren- ders them agreeable, without striking the eye. Here, therefore, all the glitter of ornament, likt that of jewels and diamonds, must be laid aside; nor must we apply even the crisping-iron to ad^ just the hair. There must be no colouring, no artful washes to heighten the complexion : but elegance and neatness must be our only airru Our style must be pure, and correct; — we must speak ^66 speak with clearness and perspicuity ;— and be always attentive to appear in character. 7^ There is one thing, however, which must never be omitted, and which is reckoned by Theophrastus to be one of the chief beauties of composition ; I mean that sweet and flowing or- nament, a plentiful intermixtureofhvely senti- ments, which seem to result from a natural fund of good sense, and are peculiarly graceful in the orator we are now describing. But he will be very moderate in using the furniture of eloquence : for (if I may be allowed such an expression) there is a species of furniture belonging to us, which consists in the various ornaments of sentiment and language. The ornaments of language are two- fold ; the one sort relates to words as they stand singly, and the other as they are connected together. A single word (I speak of those which arc proper, and in common use) is then said to be well chosen, when it sounds agreeably, and is the best which could have been taken to ex- press our meaning. Among borrowed and tra^ laiitious' words, (or those which are not used in their proper sense) we may reckon the meta- phor, the metonymy, and the rest of the tropes ; as • Words which are transferred from their primitive meao- inc to a metaphorical one. H & t67 as also compounded and new-made words, and such as are obsolete and out of date ; but obso- lete words should rather be considered as pro- per ones, with this only difference, that we seldom make use of them. As to words in con- nection, these also may be considered as orna- mental, when they have a certain gracefulness which would be destroyed by changing their order, though the meaning would still remain the same. For as to the ornaments of senti- ment, which lose nothing of their beauty, by varying the position of the words, — these, in- deed, are very numerous, though only a few of them are remarkably striking. The orator, then, -who Is distinguished by the simplicity of his manner, provided he is correct and elegant, will be sparing in the use of new words ; easy and modest in his metaphors ; and very sparing in the use of words which are antiquated ; — and as to the other ornaments of language and senti- ment, here also he will be equally plain and re- served. But in the use of metaphors, he will, per- haps, take greater liberties ; because these are fre- quently introduced in conversation, not only by gentlemen, but even by rustics, and peasants : for we often hear them say that the vine .shoots out its buds, that the fields are thirsty^ the corn lixelii^ and the grain rich and flourishing. Such m I 2€8 Such expressions, indeed, arc rather bold : but the resemblance between the metaphor and the object is either remarkably obvious ; or else, when the latter has no proper name to express it, the metaphor is so far from appearing to be laboured, that we seem to use it merely to ex- plain our meaning. This, therefore, is an orna- ment in which our artless orator may indulge himself more freely ; but not so openly as in the more diffusive and lofty species of eloquence. l^ For that ifidecorum, which is best understood by comparing it with its opposite quality, will even here be visible when a metaphor is too conspicuous ;— or when this simple and dispas- sionate sort of language is interrupted by a bold ornament, which would have been proper enough in a different kind of elocution. As to that sort of ornament which regards the posi- tion of words, and embellishes it with those studied graces, which are considered by the Greeks as so many attitudes of language, and are therefore cdiWtd figures, (a name which is likewise extended to the flowers of sentiment ;) — the orator before us, who may justly be re- garded as an Attic speaker, provided the title is not confined to him, will make use even of tfiiSy though wuth great caution and modera- tion. He will conduct himself as if he was settinir I' S69 setting out an entertainment, and while he carefully avoids a splendid magnificence, he will not only be plain and frugal, but neat and ele- gant, and make his choice accordingly. For there is a kind of genteel parsimony, by which his character isdistinguished from thatof others. He will, therefore, avoid the more conspicuous ornaments above-mentioned, such as the con- trasting word to word, — the concluding the se- veral members of a sentence with the same ca- dence, or confining them to the same measure, —-and all the studied niceties which are formed by the change of a letter, or an artful play of words; — that, if possible, there may not be the slightest appearance, or even suspicion, of a design to please. As to those re|>etitions which require an earnest and forcible exertion of the voice, these also would be equally out of cha- racter in this lowTr species of eloquence: but he may use the other ornaments of elocution at his pleasure, providecT he checks and interrupts the flow of his language, and softens it off by using familiar expressions, and such metaphors as are plain and obvious. Nay, even as to the figures of sentiment, he may sometimes indulge himself in those which are not remarkably hold and striking. Thus, for instance, we must not allow 270 allow him to introduce the republic as speaking, nor to fetch up the dead from their graves, nor to crowd a multitude of ideas into the same period. These efforts demand a firmer con- stitution, and should be neither required nor expected from the simple orator before us ; for as in his voice, so likewise in his language, he should be ever easy and composed. But there are many of the nobler ornaments which may be admitted even here, though always in a plainer and more artless habit than in any other species of eloquence ; for such is the character we have assigned him. His gesture also will be neither pompous, nor theatrical, but consist in a mode- rate and easy sway of the body, and derive much of its efficacy from the countenance, — not a stiff and affected countenance, but a . countenance ingenuously corresponding with his sentiments. JG^ This kind of oratory will likewise be fre- quently enlivened by those turns of wit and pleasantry, which in speaking have a much greater effect than is ima£»;ined. There are two sorts of them ; the one consisting in smart say- ings and quick repartees, and the other in what is called humour. Our orator will make use of both;— of the latter in his narratives, to make S7l make them lively and entertaining; — and of the other, either in giving or retorting a stroke of ridicule, of which there are several kinds ; but at present it is not our business to specify them* It will not be amiss, however, to ob- serve by way of caution, that the powers of ridicule are not to be employed too often, lest we sink into scurrility; nor in loose and inde- cent language, lest we degenerate into wan- tonness and buffoonery; — nor with the least degree of petulance and abuse, lest we appear audacious and ill-bred ; — nor levelled against the unfortunate, lest we incur the censure of inhumanity ; — nor against atrocious crimes, lest we raise a laugh where we ought to excite ab- horrence ; — nor, in the last place, should they be used unseasonably, or when the characters cither of the speaker, or the hearer, and the cir- cumstances of time and place forbid it ; — other- wise we should grossly fail in that decorum of which we have already said so much. We should likewise avoid all affected witticisms, which appear not to be thrown out occasion- ally, but to be dragged from the closet; for such are generally cold and insipid. It is also improper to jest upon our friends, or upon per- sons of quaUty, or to give any strokes of wife which I S72 which may appear ill-natured^ or malicious. Wc should aim only at our enemies ; and even at these, not upon every occasion, or without any distinction of character, or with the same inva- riable turn of ridicule. Under these restric- tions our artless orator will play off his wit and humour, as I have never seen it done by any of the modern pretenders to AttkJsm, though they cannot deny that this is entirely in the Attic taste. Such, then, is the idea which I formed of a simple and an easy speaker ^ who is likewise a very masterly one, and a genuine Athenian ; for w^hatevcr is smart and pertinent is unquestionably Attic, though some of the Attic speakers were not remarkable for their wit. Lysias, indeed, and Hyperides were suffi- ciently so ; and Dcniades, it is said, was more so than all the others. Demosthenes, however, is thought by many to have but little merit of the kind ; but to me nothing can be more po- lished than he is ; though, perhaps, he was ra- ther lively than humorous. The one requires a quicker genius, but the other more art and address. But there is a second character which is more ditiusive, and somewhat stronger than the simple and artless one we have been de- scribing, — though considerably inferior to that copious 273 4 11 copious and all-commanding eloquence we shall notice in the sequel. In this, though there is but a moderate exertion of the nerves and sinews of oratory, there is abundance of melody and sweetness. It is much fuller and richer than the close and accurate style above-mentioned ; but less elevated than the pompous and diffu- sive. ly In this all the ornaments of language may be employed without reserve ; and here the flow of our numbers is ever soft and harmonious.— Many of the Greeks have pursued it with suc- cess : but, in my opinion, they must all yield the palm to Demetrius Phalereus, whose elo- quence is ever mild and placid, and bespangled M^ith a most elegant variety of metaphors and other tropes, like so many stars. By metaphors, as I have frequently observed, I mean expres- sions which, either for the sake of ornament, or through the natural poverty of our language, are removed, and as it were transplanted from their proper objects to others, by way of simih- tude. As to tropes in general, they are parti- cular forms of expression, in which the proper name of a thing is supplied by another, which conveys the same meaning, but is borrowed from its adjuncts or effects; for, though, in Vol, 11. T this f J 274 this case, tlicre is a kind of metaphor, (because the word is shifted from its primary object) yet the remove is performed by Ennius in a different manner, when he says metaphorically, — Fow bereaze the citadel and the city of their offsprings — from what it would have been, if he had put the citadel alone for the whole state : and thus again, when he tells us that, — rugged Africa rias shaken by a dreadful tumult, — hp puts Africa for the inhabitants. The rhetori- cians call this an HypallagCy because one word is substituted for another: but the grammarians call it a Metonymy^ because the words are shift- ed and interchanged. — Aristotle, Iiowever, sub- joins it to the metaphor, as he likewise does the Abuse or Catachresis ; by which, for instance, we say a tmrroiv, contracted soul, instead of a mean one, and thus steal an expression which has a kindred meaning with the proper one, either for tb.e sake of ornament or decency. When sex'cral metaphors are connected together in a regular chain, the form of speaking is va- ried. Tiie Greeks call this an Allegory, which indeed is proper enough if we only attend to the etymology ; but if we mean to refer to its particular genus or kind, he has done better who comprehends the whole under the general name \). 275 name of metaphors. These, however, are fi^- quently used by Phalereus, and have a soft and pleasing effect : but though he abounds in the metaphor, he also makes useof the other tropes with as much freedom as any writer whatever. This species of eloquence (I mean thciniddling, or temperate) is likewise embellished with alii the brilliant figures of language, and many of' the figures of sentiment. By this, moreover, the most extensive and refined topics of science are handsomely unfolded, and all the weapons of argument are employed without violence. J3ut what need have I to say more ? Such spea- kers arc the common offspring of philosophy ; and were the nervous, and more strikiiio- orator to keep out of sight, tliese alone would fully answer our wishes. For they are masters of a briUiant, a florid, a picturesque, and a well- wrought elocution, which is interwoven with all the beautiful embroidery both of lano-uao-e and sentiment. Tliis character first streamed from the limpid fountains of the Sophists into the forum : but being afterwards despised by the more simple and refined kind of speakers, and disdainfully rejected by the nervous and weighty; it was compelled to subside into the peaceful and unaspiring mediocrity we are speaking of. T 2 The ■■^. «76 n The third character is the extensive,— the copious,— the nervous,— the majestic orator, who possesses the powers of elocution in their full extent. This is the man whose enchanting and diffusive language is so much admired by listening nations, that they have tamely suffered eloquence to rule the world ;— but an eloquence whose course is rapid and sonorous !— an elo- quence which every one gazes at, and admires, and despairs to eciual ! This is the eloquence that bends and sways the passions \—this is the p/ eloquence that alarms or sootlVs them at her pleasure ! This is the eloquence that sometimes tears up all before it like a whirlwind ; and, at other times, steals imperceptibly upon the senses, and probes to the bottom of the heart! —the eloquence which ingrafts opinions that are new, and eradicates the old ; but yet is widely different from the two characters of speaking before-mentioned. He who exerts himself ""in the simple and accurate character, and speaks neatly and smartly without aiming any higher !— Ae, by this ahuie, if carried to perfection, becomes a great, if not the greatest of orators ; nor does he walk upon slippery ground, so that if he has but learned to tread %m, he is in no danger of idling. Also the middle 277 middle kind of orator, who is distinguished by his equability, provided he only draws up his forces to advantage, fears not the perilous and doubtful hazards of a public harangue ; and, though sometimes he may not succeed to his wishes, yet he is never exposed to an absolute defeat ; for as he never soars, his fall must be inconsiderable. But the orator, whom we re- gard as the prince of his profession, — the ner- vous, — the impetuous,— the flaming orator, if he is born for this alone, and only practises and applies himself to this, without tempering his copiousness with the two inferior characters of eloquence, is of all others the most contemp- tible. For the plain and simple orator, as speaking acutely and expertly, has an appear- ance of wisdom and good-sense; and the mid- dle kind of orator is sufficiently recommended by his sweetness : — but the copious and diffu- sive speaker, if he has no other qualification, will scarcely appear to be in his senses. For he who can say nothing calmly,— nothing gently, —nothing methodically, — nothing clearly, dis- tinctly, or humorously, (though a number of causes should be so managed throughout, and others in one or more of their parts:) he, more- over, who proceeds to amplify and exaggerate T 3 without *■%; 4 278 without preparing the attention of his audience, will appear to rave before men of understand- ing, and to vapour like a person intoxicated before the sober and sedate. Thus then, my Brutus, we have at last dis- covered the fini:^hed orator we are seeking for: but we have caught him in imagination only ; — for if I could have seized him with my hands, not all his eloquence should persuade me to re- l(j lease himT^Ve have at length, how^ever, dis- " covered the eloquent speaker whom Antonius never saw. But who, then, is he J'— I will com- prize his character in a few words, and after- wards unfold it more at large. — He, then, is an orator indeed ! who can speak upon trivial sub- ' jccts with simplicity and art, upon weighty ones with energy and pathos, and upon those of middHng import with calmness and modera- tion. You will tell me, perhaps, that such a speaker has never existed. Be it so : — for I am now discoursing not upon what I have seen, but upon w^iat I could iv'ish to see ; and must therefore recur to that primary semblance or ideal form of Plato which I have mentioned before, and wiiich, though it cannot be seen with our bodily eyes, may be comprehended by the powers of imagination. For I am not seeking ^79 seckins: after a livins; orator, or after anv thinsT which is mortal and perishing, but after that which confers a right to the title of eloquent ; in other words, I am seeking after eloquence herself, who can be discerned o nly by the ey e ;h*i^. ently harmonious; and iisdem would have sounded still worse. But wc are allowed by custom even to dispense with the rules of ety- mology to improve the sweetness of our lan- guage; and I would therefore rather say, pome- ridianas Quadrigas, than posfmeridianas ; and mehercule, than mehercules. For the same reason 72on scire would now be deemed a bar- barism, because nescire has a smoother sound ; and we have likewise substituted meridiem for inedidiem, because the latter was offensive to the ear. Even the preposition ab, which so frequently occurs in our compound verbs, is preserved entire only in the formality of a jour- nal, and, indeed, not always there : in every other sort of language it is frequently altered. ' Thus we say ainovit, abegit, and abstulit ; so- that you can scarcely determine whether the! primitive preposition should be ab or abs. We have likewise rejected even abfugit, and abfer, and I 3ilO and iiitrotliiccd aufugit and aitfcr in their stead ; — thus forming a new preposition, which is to be found in no oilier verb but these. Noti, 7iavi, and nari, have all been words in common use : but when they were afterwards to be com- pounded with the preposition hi, it was thought more liarmonius to say ignoti, ignaviy and ignari, than to adhere strictly to the rules of etymology. We likewise say ex usu, and e republicd ; because in the former case, the pre- position is followed by a vowel, and in the latter, it would have sounded harshly without omitting tlie consonant ; as may also be ob- served in e.vegit, edivit, rcjecit^ retulit^ and reddidit. Sometimes the preposition alters or otherwise affects the first letter of the verb w^ith which it liappens to be compounded ; as in subegit, sumnmtacit^ and siistuUt. At other times it changes one of the subsequent letters; as when we say i)isipicntcm for insapientcJiiy iniquum for i)ia^(juu77i, tricipitem for tr'icapi- tern, and concisnm for concccsum : and from hence some have ventured to say pcrtisum for perto'sum, which custom has never warranted. But what can be more delicate than our chang- ing even the natural quantity of our syllables to humour the ear ? Thus in the adjectives uiclytiis, 321 Inclytus, iiiu\ i?iMma?n(s, the first syllable after the preposition is short, whereas i?isanusaml in- felix have it long ; and, in general, those words whose first letters arc the same a^ iy sapiens andfelix, have their first syllable long in com- position, but all others have the same syllable short, as composuit, consucvit, concrepuit, con- fecit. Examine these liberties by tlie strict rules of etymology, and they must certainly be condemned : but refer them to the decision of the ear, and they will be instantly approved.— What is the reason? Your ear will inform you they have an easier sound ; and every language must submit to gratify the ear. I myself, because our ancestors never admitted the aspirate, un- less where a syllable began with a vowel, used to say pulcros, Cetegos, triumpos, and Carta^ ginem : but some time afterwards, though noi: very soon, Avhen this grammatical accuracy was wrested from me by the censure of the ear, I resigned the mode of language to the vulgar, and reserved the theory to myself. But we still say, without any hesitation, Orcivios, Ala- tones, Otones, ccepiones, sepulcra, coronas, and lacrynias, because tlie ear allows it. Ennius always uses Burriim, and never Pyrrhum ; and ancient copies of the same author have Vol. II, Y jr 4 '. 322 Ft pafefecerunt BRt'GW, notPhryges ; because the Greek vowel hadti ot then been adopted, though we now admit both that and the aspirate : and, in fact, when we had afterwards occasion to say Phrygiwi and Fhry- gihusy it was rather absurd to adopt the Greek letter without adopting their cases, *" or at least to confine it to the nominative ; and yet (in the accusative) m'c say Phryges and Pyrrhum, to please the ear. Formerly it was esteemed an elegancy, though it would now be considered as a rusticism, to omit the s in all words which I terminate in us, except when they were fol- i lowed by a vo\Pel; and the same elision which , is so carefully avoided by the modern poets, was 'very far from being reckoned a*fault among the ancient : for they made no scruple to say, • Qui est OMNiBu' princepSj .not, as we do, omnibus pr'mceps; and, J Vtia illd BJG^u'* locpqucy I not dignus. But if untaught custom has been so inge- nious *" Thjij pa5sagt>, as it stands, in the original, appears to me unintelligible : I have therefore taken the liberty to gifc it a slight alteration. inous in the formation of agreeable sounds what may we not expect from the improve- ments of art and erudition ? I have, however been much shorter upon this subject, than I should have been if I had written upon it pro* fessedly: for a comparison of the natural and customary laws of language would have opened a wide field for speculation : but I have already enlarged upon it sufficiently, and more, per- haps, than the nature of my design required, //f To proceed then,— as the choice of proper matter, and of suitable words to express it, de- pends upon the judgment of the speaker, but that of agreeable sounds, and harmonious numbers, upon the decision of the ear ; and be- cause the former is intended for information, and the latter for pleasure ; it is evident that reason must determine the rules of art in one case, and mere sensation in the other. For we must either neglect the gratification of those by whom we wish to be approved, or apply our- selves to invent the most likely methods to promote it. There are two thing^s which con- tribute to gratify the ear, digvet3.h\csou72ds, and barmoDious 7iumbers. We shall treat of num- bers in the sequel, and at present confine our- selves to sound.— Tho^e words, then, as wo iKive already observed, are to have the prefer- ^ 2 ence n 324f ciicc which sound agreeably; — not such as are exquisitely melodious, like those of the poets, but such as can be found to our purpose in common language, — Qua Pontus Helles is rather beyond the mark: — but in Auratos aries Colchorum, the verse glitters with a moderate harmony of expression ; whereas the next, as ending with a letter which is remarkably flat, is unmusical, Frugifera etfarta ar\a Asia: tend. Let us, therefore, rather content ourselves with the agreeable mediocrity of our own lan- guage, than emulate the splendor of the Greeks; unless we are so bigotted to the latter as to hesitate to say with the poet : Qua tcmpesUite Paris Heltnam, &c, wc might even imitate what follows, and avoid, as far as possible, the smallest asperity of sound, llabco islam ego rERTERiiicREPAM ; or say, with the same author, in another pas- sage, . Versuiiloquas mahtias. But 525 But our words must have a proper covipass; as well as be connected together in an agreeable manner; for this, we have observed, is another circumstance which falls under the decision of the ear. They are confined to a proper compass, either by certain rules of compo- sition, as by a kind of natural pause, or by the use of particular forms of expression, which have a peculiar concinnity in their very tex- ture; such as a succession of several words which have the same termination, or tbe com- paring similar, and contrasting opposite cir- cumstances, which will always terminate in a measured cadence, though no immediate pains should be taken for that purpose. Gorgias, it is said, w^as the first orator who practised this species of concinnity. The following passage in my defence of Milo is an example. '^ Est enim indices, haac non scripta, sed 7iata Lex ; quam non didicimus, acccpimus^ legimus, verum ex Natura ipsa arripulmus, hausimus, e.vpressimus ; ad quam non doctiy sed facti; non instituti, sed inibuti simus." ^' For this, my Lords, is a law not written upon tables, but impressed upon our hearts ; — a law which w^e have not learned, or heard, or read, but eagerly caught and imbibed from the Y 3 hand I 1 ill 326 hand of nature ; — a law to which vvc have not been trained but originally formed ; and with the principles of which we have not been fur- nished by education, but tinctured and impreg- nated from the moment of our birth." In these forms of expression every circum- stance is so aptly referred to some other cir- cumstance, that the regular turn of them docs not appear to have been studied, but to result entirely from the sense. The same effect is produced by contrasting opposite circum- stances ; as in the following lines, where it not only forms a measured sentence, but a verse: JEa;77j quam nihil accusas^ dainnasy Her, whom j ou ne'er accused, you now condemn j (In prose we should say condemnas ;) and again, Bene quam meritam esse autumns, dicis male merori^ Her merit, once confoss'd, yon now denj ; and, Ulquod scisj prodcst nihil ; id quod ticscii^ obeafj From what you've learnt no real good accrues. But ev'ry ill your ignorance pursues. Here S£7 Here you see the mere opposition of the terms produces a vers€ ; but in prosaic com- position, the proper form of the last line would be, (/Hod scis iiihil prodcst ; quod nes&is SIj 7nultum obesL This contrasting of opposite' circumstances, which the Greeks call an Anti- thesis, will necessarily produce what is styled 7'hetorical ?netre, even without our intendinj^ it. The ancient orators, a considerable time before it was practised and recommended by Isocrates, were fond of using it ; and particu- larly GorgiaSy whose measured cadences are generally owing to the mere conciniiity of his language. 1 have frequently practised it my- self; as, for instance, in the following pasisage of my fourth invective against Verrea : *' Conferte. kanc Pacem cum illo Bello ; — hujus Prsetoris Adventum, cum illius Impera- toris Victorid ; — hujus Cohortem hnpm^ain^ cum illius Eaercitu invicto ; — hujus Libidine&^ cum illius Continentid ; — ab illo qui cepit con- ditas ; ab hoc, qui constitutas accepit, c^/^^^?^ dicetis Syracusas." ** Compare this detestable peace with that glorious xvar^ — the arrival of this governor Y 4 with i 528 !\vith the victory of that commander,— his riif- fan guards, witli the invincible forces of the Other; — the brutal hixiirv of the former, with the modest temperance of the latter; — and you will say, that Syracuse was icMy J'oundcd by him who stormed it, and stormed by him who received it 'dhcddy founded to his hands.''— So much, then, for that kind of measure which results from particular forms of expression, and which ought to be known by every orator. We must now proceed to the third thing pro- posed, — that measured and well-adjusted style ; of the beauty of which, if any arc so insensible as not to feel it, I caimot imai>:ine what kind of ears they have, or what resemblance of a human being ! For my part, my ears are al- ways fond of a complete and full-measured flow of words, and perceive in an instant what is either defective or redundant. IJut where- fore do 1 say mine? I have fre(juently seen a whole assembly burst into raptures of applause at a happy period : for the ear naturally expects, that our sentences should be properly tuned) and measured. This, however, is an accom- pHshment which is not to be met with among: the ancients. But to compensate the w^ant of it, they had almost every other perfection : for they 329 they had a happy choice of words, and abound- ed in pithy and agreeable sentiments, though thev had not the art of harmonizino- and com- pleting their periods. This, say some, is the very thing we admire. But what if they should prefer the ancient pcinture, with all its poverty of colouring, to the rich and finished style of the moderns ? The former, I suppose, must be again adopted, to comphment their delicacy, and the latter rejected. But these pretended connoisseurs regard nothing but the mere ;^c/;;ic^ of anti([uity. It must, indeed, be owned that antiquity has an equal claim to authority in matters of imitation, as grey hairs in the precedence of age. I myself have as great a veneration for it as any man : nor do I so much upbraid antiquity with her defects, as admire the beauties she was mistress of: — especially as I judge the latter to be of far greater consequence than the former. For there is certainly more real merit in a masterly choice of words and sentiments, in which the ancients are allowed to excel, than in those measured periods with which they were totally unacquainted. J/ This species of composition was not knowu among the Romans till lately, but the ancients, I believe. I S30 il believe, would readily have adopted it, if it had then been discovered : and we accordingly find, that it is now made use of by all orators of reputation, " But when nuijiber^ or (as the Greeks call it) prosaic metre , is professed- ly introduced into judicial and forensic dis- courses, the very name, say they, has a suspicious sound : for peo|)le will conclude that there is too much artifice employed to soothe and captivate their ears, when the speaker is so over-exact as to attend to the harmony of his periods." Relying upon the force of this ob- jection, these pretenders are perpetually grating our ears M'ith their broken and mutilated sen- tences ; and censure those, without mercy, who have the presumption to utter an agreeable and a well-turned period. If, indeed, it was our design to spread a varnish over empty words and trifling sentiments, the censure would be just ; but when the matter is good, and the words arc proper and expressive, what reason can be assigned why we should prefer a limpingj and imperfect period to one which terminates and keeps pace with the sense ? For this invi- dious and persecuted metre aims at nothing more than to adapt the compass of our words to that of our thoughts ; which is sometimes done even 331 even by the ancients, — tbough generally, I believe, by mere accident, and often by the na- tural delicacy of the ear ; and the very passages which are now most admired in them, com*- monly derive their merit from the agreeable and measured flow of the language. This is an art which was in common use among the Greek orators, about four hundred years ago, though it has been but lately introduced among the Ro- mans. Ennius, therefore, when he ridicules the inharmonious numbers of his predecessors, might be allowed to say, *' Such Verses as the rustic Bards and Satyrs sung ." i But 1 must not take the same liberty ; espe- cially as I cannot say with him, > ^' Before this bold adventurer y^"* c^c. (meaning himself :) nor, as he afterwards ex- ults to the same purpose, '' IJirsthavedar'dVunJold;' S;c. For I have both read and heard several who were almost complete masters of the numerous and measured style I am speaking of: But many, who are still absolute strangers to it, are lot content to be exempted from the ridicule thev S5^ they deserve, but claim a right to our wannest applause. I must own, indeed, that I admire the venerable patterns, of which those persons pre- tend to be the faithful imitators, notwithstand- ing the defects I observe in them : but 1 can by no means commend the folly of those who copy nothing but their blemishes, and have no pretensions even to the most distant resem- blance in what is truly excellent. But if their own ears are so indelicate and devoid or taste, will they pay no deference to the judgment of others, M'ho are universally celebrated for their learning? I will not mention Isocrates, and his two scholars, Ephorus and Naucrates ; though they may claim the honour of o-ivino- the richest precepts of co]iiposition, and were themselves very eminent oiators. But who was possessed of a more ample fund of erudi- tion ? — who more subtle and acute ? — or who furnished with quicker powers of invention, and a greater strength of understanding, than Aristotle ? 1 may add, who made a warmer opposition to the rising fiime of Isocrates ? And yet lie, tliougli he forbids us to versify in prose , reconmiends the use of numbers. His hearer '^^^^'^'^^'^''Theodectes (whom he often mentions as a po- lished writer, and an i,xcel!ent artist) both ap- proves 335 proves and advises the same thing : and Theo- phrastus is still more copious and explicit. Who, then, can liave patience with those dull and conceited humourists, who dare to oppose themselves to such venerable names as these ? The only excuse that can be made for them is, that they have never perused their writings, and are therefore ignorant that they actually re- commend the prosaic meti^e \vq are speaking of. If this is the case with tliem (and I can- not think otherwise) will they reject the evi- dence of their own sensations ? Is there nothing which their ears will inform them is defective ? — nothing which is harsh and unpolished ? — nothing imperfect ? — nothing larpe and muti- lated ? — nothing redundant ? In dramatic per- ' formances, a whole theatre will exclaim against a verse which has only a syllable either too short or too long : and yet the bulk of an audience -. are unacquainted w ith feet and numhey^s, and are totally ignorant what the fault is, and where it lies : but nature herself has taught the ear to measure the quantity of sound, and determine the propriety of its various accents, whether grave, or acute. ^ Do you desire, then, my Brutus, that we should discuss the subject more fully than those S writers i 334 writers who have already elucidated this, and the other parts of rhetoric ? Or shall we con- tent ourselves with the instructions which II //ii/ are extant) is ? iio??erous even to a faul t. But ^^ ^*^*'*^"^^ Gorgias, as I have already remarked, was the 3 % original 335 original inventor of those measured forms of expression which have a kind of spontaneous liarmony, — such as a regular succession ©f words with the same termination, and the com- paring similar, or contrasting opposite circum- stances ; tliough it is also notoriously true that he used them to excess.' This, however, is ' one of the three branches of composition above- mentioned. But each of these authors was prior to Isocrates : so that the preference can be due to hwi only for his moderate use, and not for the invention of the 2iVt: for as he is certainly much easier in the turn of his meta- phors, and the choice of his words, so his numbers are more composed and sedate. But Gorgias, he observed, was too eager, and in- dulged himself in this measured play of words to a ridiculous excess. He, therefore, endea-* voured to moderate and correct it ; but not till he had first studied in his youth under the same Gorgias, who was then in Thessaly, and in the last decline of life. Nay, as he advan- ced in years (for he lived almost a hundred) he corrected himself, and gradually relaxed the over strict regularity of his numbers ; as he particularly informs us in the treatise which he dedicated to Philip of Macedon, in the latter part t s « • 336' part of his life ; for he there savs, that he H^^^U^-^^'^^^ thrown oflf that servile attention to his "^^^-^^ number s, to which he was before accustomed : — so that he discovered and corrected, his oztn faults as well as those of his predecessors. U Having thus specified the several authors and inventors, and the first com m en cenacnt of pro- saic harmony, we must next enquine what was the natural source and origin of it. But this lies so open to observation that I am astonished the ancients did not notice it : especially as they often, by mere accident, threw out har- monious and measured sentences, which, when they had struck tlje ears and the passions with so much force, as tomake it obvious tliat there was something particularly agreeable in what chance alone had uttered, one would imagine that such a singular species of ornament would hav-e been immediately attended to, and that they would have taken the pains to imitate what they found so pleasing in themselves. For the car, or at least the mind by the intervention of the ear, has a natural capacity to measiure the harmony of language : and we accordingly feel that it instantly determines what is either too short or too long, and always expects to be gratified with that which is complete and well- 337 well-proportioned. Some expressions it per* ceives to be imperfect, and mutilated ; and at these it is immediately offended, as if it was defrauded of its natural due. In others it dis- covers an immoderate length, and a tedious superfluity of words; and with these it is still more disgusted than with the former; for in this, as in most other cases, an excess is al- ways more offensive than a proportional defect. As versification, therefore, and poetic composi- tion were invented by the regulation of the car, and the successive observations of men of taste and judgment; so in prose (though in- deed long afterwards, but still, however, by the guidance of nature) it was discovered that the career and compass of our language should be adjusted and circumscribed within proper limits. So much for the source, or natural origin of proliaic harmony. We must next proceed (for that was the third thing proposed) to enquire into the nature of it, and deter- mine its essential principles; — a subject which exceeds the limits of the present essay, and would be more properly discussed in a profess- ed and accurate system of the art. For we might here enquire what is meant by prosaic fitimbery wherein it consists, and from whence Vol. II. Z it 338 it arises ; as likewise whether it is simple and uniform, or admits of any variety, and in what manner it is formed, for what purpose, and when and where it should he employed, and how it contributes to gratify the ear. But as in other subjects, so in this, there are two methods of disquisition; the one more copious and diffusive, and the other more concise, and, I might also add, more easy and comprehensible. In the former, the first ques- tion which would occur is, whether there is any such thing as pt^osaic ?iU7nher: some are of opinion there is not; because no fixed and certain rules have been yet assigned for jt, as there long have been for peetic numbers; and because the very persons, who contend for its existence, have hitherto been unable to de- termine it. Granting, however, that prose is susceptibly of numbers, it will next be enquired ^ of what kind they are; — whether they are to be selected from those of the poets, or from a different species; — and if from the former, which of them may claim the preference ; for some authors admit only one or two, and some more, while others object to none. We might then proceed to enquire (be the number of them fo be admitted, more or less) whether they are equally 339 equally common to every kind of style; for- the narrative, the persuasive, ar.d the didactiq have each a manner pecuhar to itself ; or wh^r ther the different species of oratory should be accommodated with theirdifferent numbers. If the same numbers are equally common to all subjects, we must next enquire what those num- bers are; and if they are to be differently applied, we must examine wherein they differ, and for what reason they are not to be used $o openly in prose as in verse. It might likewise be a matter of enquiry, whether 2L7iume7^ous style is formed entirely by the use of numbers, or not also, in some measure, by the harmonious juncture of our words, and the application of certain figu- rative forms of expression ; — and, in the next place, whether each of these has not its peculiar province, so that number may regard the time^ or quantity y composition xhtsoujidi and figur- ^ ative expression the form and polish of our*- language, — and yet, in fact, composition be the source and fountain of all the rest, and give rise both to the varieties of number, and to those figurative and luminous dashes of expression, which by the Greeks, as I have before observ- ed, are called («?"%>i{x:kt^) attitudes^ ox figures. i^it to me there appears to be a real distinction Z 12 between # EDT >ts| * t ,1 I t f 54f) between what is agreeable in sound, exact in measure^ and ornamental in the mode of e.r- pression ; though the latter, it must be owned, is very closely connected with 77umber, as be- ing for the most part sufficiently numerous without any labour to make it so : but com- position is apparently different from both, as attending entirely either to the majestic, or agreeable sound of our words. Such then are the enquiries which relate to the feature of pro- saic harmony. From what has been said, it is easy to infer that prose is suspectible oinumbe7\ Our senses tell us so,and it would be excessively unfair to reject their evidence, because we cannot account for the fact. Even poetic metre was not discover- ed by any effort of reason, but by mere natural taste and sensation, which reason afterwards correcting, improved and methodized what had been noticed by accident; and thus an at-, tention to nature, and an accurate observation of her various feelings and sensations, gave birth to art. But in verse the use of number is more obvious ; though some particular spe- cies of it, without the assistance of music, have the air of harmonious prose, and especially the lyric poetry, and that even the best of the kinrf, w^iich 341 which, if divested of the aid of music, would be almost as plain and naked as common lan- guage. We have several specimens of this na- ture in our own poets"; such as the following line, in the tragedy of Thyestes. ^^ Quemnam te esse dicam ? qui in tarda senectutc / " Whom shall J call thee ? who ia tardy age," &c. which, unless when accompanied by the lyre, might easily be mistaken for prose. But the iambic verses of the comic poets, to maintain a resemblance to the style of conversation, are often so low and simple that you can scarcely discover in them either number or metre ; from whence it is evident that it is more difficult to adapt numbers to prose than to verse. There are two things, however, which give a sweetness to our language, — well-chosen words, and harmonious nujnbers. Words may be considered as the materials of language, and it is the business oi number to smooth and po- lish them. But, as in other cases, what was Z 3 invented " It must here be remarked, that the Romans had no lyric poet before Horace, who did not flourish till after the times of Cicero. 5\'2 inv(?nted to serve our necessities was always prior to that which was invented for pleasure; so, in the present, a rude and simple style, which was merely adapted to express our thoughts, was discovered many centuries before the' in- vention of numbers^ which are designed to please the ear. Accordingly, Herodotus, with those in his own and in the preceding age, had not the least idea of prosaic iiumher, nor produced any thing of the kind, unless at ran- dom, and by mere accident : — and even the ancient masters of rhetoric (I mean those of the earliest (hite) have not so much as men- tioned it, though they have left us a multitude of precepts upon the conduct and management f)f our stvle. For what is easiest, and most ne- cessary to be known, is, for that reason, always lirst discovered. Metaphors, therefore, and new-made and compounded words, were easily invented, be- cause ihev were borrowed from custom and conversation: but nuviber was not selected from our domestic treasures, nor had the least intimacy or connection with common language; and, of consequence, not being noticed and understood till every other improvement had been made, it gave the finishing grace, and the last • "■ 543 last touches to the style of eloquence. As it may be remarked that one sort of language is interrupted by frequent breaks and intermis sions, while another is flowing and diffusive ; it is evident that the difference cannot result from the natural sounds of different letters, but from the various combinations of long and short syllables, with which our language, being dif- ferently blended and intermingled, will te either dull and motionless, or lively and fluent ; so that every circumstance of this nature must be regulated by number. For, by the assist- ance of numbers y the period, which I have so often mentioned before, pursues its course with greater strength and freedom, till it comes to a' natural pause. It is therefore plain that the style of an orator should be measured and har-> monized by numbers, though entirely free from verse : but whether these numbers should be the same as those of the poets, or of a different species, is the next thing to be considered. In my opinion there can be no sort of numbers but those of the poets ; because they have al- ready specified all their different kinds with the utmost precision ; for every number may be com.prized in the three following varieties :— *viz. a foot (which is the measure we apply to Z 4 numbers) k^- J 3 1 )i 1:' ;i ii|' ' 1 iuf^.fi5t I ^^' 344 lumbers) must be so divided, that one part of it will be either equal to the other, or twice as long, or equal to three halves of it. Thus, in a dacti/l (""") the first syllable, which is the for- mer part of the foot, is equal to the two others, in the iambic ("~) the last is double the first, and mtht pceon ("^"~, or"""") one of its parts, which is the long syllable, is ecjual to two- thirds of the other. These are feet which are unavoidably incident to language ; and a pro- per arrangement of them will produce a ?iu?ne- roiis style. But it will here be enquired, what numbers should have the preference ? To which I answer. They must all occur promiscuously ; Jas is evident from our sometimes speaking verse Iwithout knowing it, wliich in prose is reckoned p capital fiult ; but in the hurry of discourse Kve cannot alu avs watch and criticise ourselves. As to .scnarian and /lippouaciic'" verses, it is scarcely possible to avoid them ; for a consider- able part, even of our common language,is com- posed of iambic'^. To these, however, the hearer is easilv reconciled ; because custom has made them familiar to his ear. But through inattention we are often betraved into verses whicli are not so familiar; — a fault which mar easily 345 easily be avoided by a course of habitual circuni* spection. Hieronymus, an eminent Peripate- tic, has collected out of the numerous writing* of Isocrates about thirty verses, most of them senarian, and some of them anapest, which in prose have a more disagreeable effect than any others. But he quotes them with a mahcious partiality : for he cuts off the first syllable of the first word in a sentence, and annexes to the last word the first syllable of the following sentence : and thus he forms what is called an Aristophanean anapest, which it is neither pos- sible nor necessary to avoid entirely. But, thii^ redoubtable critic, as 1 discovered upon a closer inspection, has himself been betrayed into ^ senarian or iambic verse in the very paragraph in which he censures the composition of Isocrates. Upon the whole, it is suflSciently plain that prose is susceptible of numbers^ and that the numbers of an orator must be the same as those of a poet. The next thing to be considered is, what are the numbers which are most suitable to his character, and, for that reason, should occur more frequently than the rest ? Some prefer the iarribic {') as approaching the nearest Verses chiefly composed of /amblc? , 345 nearest to common language ; for which reason, they say, it is generally made use of in fables tod comedies, on account of its resemblance to conversation ; and because the dactyl, which is the favourite number of hexameters, is more adapted to a pompous style. Ephorus, on the other hand, declares for the paeon and the dactyl ; and rejects the spondee and the trochee (""')• For as the pa^on has three short sylla- bles, and the dactyl two, he thinks their short- ness and celerity give a brisk and lively flow to our language ; and that a different effect would be produced by the trochee and the spondee, the one consisting of short syllables and the other of long ones ;— so that by using the former, the current of our words would become too rapid, and too heavy by employing the latter, losing, in either case, that easy moderation which best satisfies the ear. But both parties seem to be equally mistaken : for those who exclude the pa^on, are not aware that they re- ject the sweetest and fullest number we have. Aristotle was far from thinking as they do : he was of opinion that heroic numbers are too sonorous for prose; and that, on the other hand, the iambic has too much the resem- blance 347 blatrce of vulgar talk : — and, accordingly, he recommends the style which is neither too low and common, nor too lofty and extravagant, but retains such a just proportion of dignity, as to win the attention, and excite the admira- tion of the hearer. He, tlierefore, calls the trochee (which has precisely the same quantity as the charee) the rhetorical jigg ; ^ because the shortness and rapidity of its syllables arc in- compatible with the majesty of eloquence. For this reason he recommends the pceorij and says that every person makes use of it, even without beins: sensible when he does so. He hkewisc observes that it is a proper medium between the different feet above-mentioned : — the pro- portion between the long and short syllables, in every foot, being cither sesqui plicate, duple, or equal. The authors, therefore, \vhom I mentioned before, attended merely to the easy flow of our language, without any regard to its dignity. For the iambic and the dactyl are chiefly used in poetry ; so that to avoid ver- sifying in prose, we must shun, as much as possible, a continued repetition of either ; because «» Cordaccm appeffat, Tlw cordax was a lascirioas dancCj ?ery full of aglta^tiou, i 34S because the language of prose is of a different cast, and absolutely incompatible with verse. As the p^eon, therefore, is of all other feet the most improper for poetry, it may, for that rea- son be more readily admitted into prose. But as to Ephorus, he did not reflect that even the spondee, which he rejects, is equal in time to his favourite dactyl ; because he supposed that iett were to be measured, not by the quantity, but the number of their syllables ;— a mistake of which he is equally guilty when he excludes 'the trochee, which, in time and quantity, is precisely equal to the iambic; though it is un- doubtedly faulty at the end of a period, which always terminates more agreeably in a loner syllable than a short one. As to what Aristotle has said of the pdon, the same has likewise been said by Theophrastus and Theodectes* But, for my part, I am rather of opinion that our language should be intermingled and diversified with all the varieties of number; for should wc confine ourselves to any particular feet, it would be impossible to escape the censure of the hearer ; because our style should neither be i so exactly measured as that of the poets, nor I entirely destitute of number, hkc that of the common i Is 349 common people. The former, as being too re- ' gular and uniform, betrays an appearance of art ; and the other, which is as much too loose and undetermined, has the air of ordinary talk; so that we receive no pleasure from the onee and are absolutely disgusted with the other. Our style, therefore, as I have just observed, should be so blended and diversified with differ ent numbers, as to be neither too vague and un- restrained, nor too openly numerous, but abound most m the pseon (so much recommended by the excellent author above-mentioned) though still in conjunction with many other feet which he entirely omits. But we must now consider what numbers, like so many dashes of purple, should tincture and enrich the rest, and to what species of style they are each of them best adapted. The iambic, then, should be the leading number in those subjects which require a plain and simple Style;— the p^on in such as require more com- pass and elevation ; and the dactyl is equally apphcable to both. So that, in a discourse of any length and variety, it will be occasionally necessary to blend and intermingle them all. By this means, our endeavours to modulate our periods, and captivate the ear, will be most ef- fectually < , 3i0 1 H' fectually concealed ; especially, if *ve maintain a suitable dignity both of language and sentiment. For the hearer will naturally at- tend to these (I mean our words and senti- ments) and to them alone attribute the plea- sure he receives; so that while he listens to these with admiration, the harmony of our numbers will escape his notice : though it must indeed be acknowledged that the former would have their charms without the assistance of the latter. But the flow of our numbers is not ta be so exact (I mean in prose, for in poetry the case is different) as that nothing may exceed the bounds of regularity ; for this would be to compose a poem. On the contrary, if our language neither limps nor fluctuates, but keeps an even and a steady pace, it is sufficiently yiu-- merous ; and it accordingly derives the title, not from its consisting entirely of numbers, but from its near approach to a numerous form. — This is the reason why it is more difficult to make elegant prose, than to make verses; because there are fixed and invariable rules for the latter ; whereas nothing is determined in the former, but that the current of our language should be nei- tljcr immoderate nor defective, nor loose and unconfined. A 351 unconfined. It cannot be supposed, therefore; to admit of regular beats and divisions, like a piece of music ; but it is only necessary that the general compass and arrangement of our words should be properly restrained and limited, — a circumstance which must be left entirely to the ^decision of the ear. Another question which occurs before us is — whether an attention to our numbers should be extended to every part of a sentence, or only to the beginning and the end. Most authors are of opinion that it is only necessary that our periods should end well, and have a numerous cadence. It is true, indeed, that this ought to be principally attended to, but not solely : for the whole compass of our periods ought like- wise to be regulated, and not totally neglected. As the ear, therefore, always directs its vieti^ to the close of a sentence, and there fixes its attention, it is by no means proper that this should be destitute of number : but it must also be observed that a period, from its first commencement, should run freely on, so as to correspond to the conclusion ; and the whole advance from the beginning with such an easy flow, as to make a natural, and a kind of vo- 3 luntary 'II II a 352 353 til lantary pause. T^ those who have been well practised in the art, and who have both written much, and often attempted to discourse extem- pore with the same accuracy which they ob- serve in their writings, this will be far less difficult than is imagined. For every sentence is previously formed and circumscribed in th©. mind of the speaker, and is then immediately attended by the proper words to express it, which the same mental faculty (than which there is nothing more lively and expeditious) instantly dismisses, and sends off each to its proper post; but, in different sentences, their particular order and arrangement will be differ- ently terminated ; though, in every sentence, the words, both in the beginning and the mid- dle of it, should have a constant reference to the end. Our language, for instance, must sometimes advance with rapidity, and at other times its pace must be moderate and easy; so that it will be necessary, at the very beginning of a sentence, to resolve upon the manner in which you would have it terminate; but we must avoid the leaU appearance of poetry, both in our numbers, and in the other ornaments of language; though it is true, indeed, that th^ 'i labours labours of the orator must be conducted on l the satne principles as those of the poet. For in each we have the same materials to work upon, and a similar art of managing them; the materials being words, and the art of managing them, relating, in both cases, to the manner in which they ought to be disposed. The words also in each may be divided into three classes, — the metaphorical^ — the new- l coined, — and the antique ; — for at present we have no concern with words proper : — and three parts may also be distinguished in the art of disposing them; which, I have already ob- served, VLTCju^icture, concinnity, and number, \. The poets makes use both of one and the other more frequently, and with greater liberty than we do ; for they employ the tropes not only much oftener, but more boldly and openly ; and they introduce antique words with a higher ' taste, and new ones wnth less reserve. The same may be said in their numbers, in the use of which they are subjected to invariable rules, which they are scarcelyever allowed to transgress. The two arts, therefore, are to be considered nei- ther as wholly distinct, nor perfectly conjoined. This is the reason why our numbers are not to Vol. II A a be 354 be so conspicuous in prose as in verse ; and that in prose, what is called a numerous style, does not always become so by the use of numbers, but sometimes cither by the concinnity of our lan-L guage, or the smooth juncture of our words. ^ To conclude this head; If it should be en- quired, " Wliat are the numbers to be used in prose?" I answer, ''All; though some are cer- tainly better, and more adapted to its character than others."— If, '' JVhere is their proper seat ?*' — *' In the different quantity of our sylla-u bles:*' — If " From whence their origin? — 'V "From the sole pleasure of the earf — If ''What the method of blending and intermingling them ?"— *' This shall be explained in the se- quel, because it properly relates to the manner of using them, which was the fourth and last article in my division of the subject." If it be farther enquired, '' For what purpose they are employed ?" I answer, — ** to gratify the ear:'* If "JFhenr I reply, '' At all times:"— If *' In what part of a sentence ?'' '' Through the whole length of it:'^— and if '' What is the circum- stance which gives them a pleasing effect?" '' The same as in poetical compositions, whose metre is regulated by art, though the ear alone, 355 alone, without the assistance of art, can deter- mine its limits by the natural powers of sensa- tion." Enough, therefore, has been said con- cerning the nature and properties of number. ^.The next article to be considered is the manner in which our numbers should be employed, — a circumstance which requires to be accurately discussed. Here it is usual to enquire, whether it is ne- cessary to attend to our numbers through the whole compass of a period"', or only at the be- ginning or end of it, or equally in both. lu the next place, as exact number seems to be one thing, and that which is only measured another, it might be enquired wherein lies the difference. We might likewise consider whe- ther the members of a sentence should all in- differently be of the same length, whatever be the numbers they are composed of; — or whe- A a 2 ther, f i ^ Our author here informs us, that what the Greek** called vj^io^os, apenW, was distinguished among the Ro- mans by the words ambitus^ circuitusy comprehension conti» nuatio^ and circumscription As I thought this remark would appear much better in the form of a note, than ia the body of the v^ork, I ha?e introduced it accordingly. 356 567 thcr, on this account, they ishould not be some- - times longer, and sometimes shorter ; — and when, and for what reasons, they should be made so, and of what numbers they should be composed ; — whether of several sorts, or ohlj of one ; and whether of equal or unequal num^ bers ; — and upon what occasions either the one or the other of these are to be used ; — and what numbers accord best together, and in what order ; or whether, in this respect, there is no difference between them ; — and (which has still a more immediate reference to our sub- ject) by what means our style may be render- ed harmonious. It will likewise be necessary to - specify the rise and origin of ape7'iodical form of language, and what degree of compass should be allowed to it After this, w^e may consider the members or divisions of a period, and enquire of how many kinds, and of what different lengths they are ; and, if they vary in these respects, where and zi^he?i each particular sort is to be employed : and, in the last place, i the use and application of the whole is to be fully explained; — a very extensive subject, and which is capable of being accommodated not only to one, but t» many different occasions. Bit But without adverting to particulars, we may discuss the subject at large in such a manner L as to furnish a satisfactory answer in all subor- dinate cases. Omitting, therefore, every other species of composition, we shall attend to that which is peculiar to forensic causes. For in those performances which are of a different kind, such as history, panegyric, and all dis- courses which are merely ornamental, every sentence should be constructed after the exact manner of Isocrates and Theopompus ; and with that regular compass, and measured flow of language, that our words may constantly run within the limits prescribed by art, and pursue a uniform course, till the period is com- pleted. We may, therefore, observe that av'ter the invention of this periodical forniy no writer of any account has made a discourse which was intended as a mere display of ornament, and not for the service of theforum, without sguar - (]iiu«ic^^f,c^:^ ing: his language, (if I may so express mysel f) ^^j^ and confinin g every sentence of it to the strictest laws of number. For as, in this case, the hearer has no motive to alarm his suspicions against the artifice of the speaker, he will rath- r think himself obliged to him than otheiwi Aa 3 sc lor I SSi 0/ n^tt 'j i for the pains he takes to amuse and gratify hfs .ear. (r^v But, in forensic causes, this accurate species of composition is neither to be wholly adopted, nor entirely rejected. For if we pursue it too closely, it will create a satiety, and our atten- tion to it will be discovered by the most iUite- rate observer. We may add, it will check the pathos and force of action, restrain the sensi- bility of the speaker, and destroy all appearance of truth and open dealing. But as it will some- times be necessary to adopt it, we must con- sider wheny and how long, this ought to be done, and how^ many ways it may be changed and varied. A nume rous style, then, may be properly employed, either when any thing is to be commended in a free and ornamental man- ner, (as in my second invective against Verres, where I spoke in praise of Sicily, and in my • speech before the senate, in which I vindicated the honour of my consulship ;)— or, in the next place, when a narrative is to be delivered which requires more dignity than pathos, (as \m my fourth invective, where I described the Ceres of the Ennensians, the Diana of the Segestani, and the situation of Syracuse.) It is 359 is likewise often allowable to speak in a nu- merous and flowing style, when a material cir- cumstance is to be amplified. If I myself have not succeeded in this so well as might be wished, I have at least attempted it very fre- quently ; and it is still visible in many of my perorations, that I have exerted all the talents I was master of for that purpose. But this will always have most efficacy, when the speaker has previously possessed himself of the hearer's attention, and got the better of his judgment. For then he is no longer appre- hensive of any artifice to mislead him; but hears every thing with a favourable ear, wishes the orator to proceed, and, admiring the force of his eloquence, has no inclination to censure it. But this measured and numerous flow of language is never to be continued too long, I will not say in the peroration, (of which the hearer himself will always be a capable judge) but in any other part of a discourse : for, ex- cept in the cases above-mentioned, in which J^ have shewn it is allowable, our style must be wholly confined to those clauses or divisions which we erroneously call f;2m^ and membra; but the Greeks, with more propriety, the com- A a 4 ma 360 PM and colon ^ For it is impossible that the names of things should be rightly applied, when the things themselves are not sufficiently understood ; and as we often make use of me- taphorical terms, either for the sake of orna- ment, or to supply the place of proper ones, so in other arts, when we have occasion to men- tion any thing which (through our unac- quaintance with it) has not yet received a /a,^/ ^^"^^' ^^e are obliged either t^ invent a ne\y ^* JOn^. or to borrow it from something similar. ^ We shall soon consider what it is to speak in • The ancients apply these terms to (he sense, and not to any pointk of distinction. A very short member, whether simple or compound, with them is ^conima ; and a longer, a colon ; for they have no such term as a semicolon. Besides, they call a Tery short sentence, whether simple or com- pound, a comma ; and one of somewhat a greater length, a colon. And therefore, if a person expressed himself either ofthese ways, in any considerable number of sentences to- gether, he was said to speak by commas, or colons. But a sentence containing more words than will consist with either of these terms they call a simple period; the least compound period with them requiring the length of two to- Ions. . JdA^ Ward's Rhetoric, Tolume 1st, page 34i. \ 361 in commas and colons, and the proper method of doing it: but we must first attend to the various numbers by which the cadence of our periods should be diversified. Our numbers will advance more rapidly by the use of short feet, and more coolly and sedately by the use of long ones. The former are best adapted to a warm and spirited style, and the latter to so- ber narratives and explanations. But there are several numbers for concluding a period, one of which (called the dichorce, or double choree^ and consisting of a long and a short syl- lable repeated alternately) is much in vogue with the Asiatics ; though among different peo- ple the same feet are distinguished by different names. The dichoree, indeed, is not essentially bad for the close of a sentence : but in prosaic numbers nothing can be more faulty than a continued or frequent repetition of the same cadence : as the dichoree, therefore, is a verv sonorous number, we should be the more spar- ing in the use of it, to prevent a satiety. C. Carbo, the son of Caius, and a tribune of the people, once said in a public trial in which I was personally engaged, O Marce Druse, Pa^ irem appello ; where you may observe two coinmas, each consisting of two ifeet. He then made 562 363 made use of the two following colons, each consisting of three feet, Tu dicere solebas, sa- cram esse RempubUcain : and afterwards of the period— Quiciinque earn violavissent, ab omnibus esse ei pccnas persolutas, which ends with a dichoree ; for it is immaterial whether the last syllable is long or short. He added, Patris dictum sapiens, tcmeritas Jilii cum- prdbcixnt, concluding here also with a dichoree ; which was received with such a general burst of applause, as perfectly astonished me. But was not this the effect oUiumber ?— Only chano-e the order of the words, and say, Comprobavit filii temeritasy and the spirit of them will be lost, though the word tMcrltas consists of three short syllables and a long one, which is the favourite number of Aristotle, from whom, however, I here beg leave to dissent. The words and sentiments arc indeed the same in both cases ; and yet, in the latter, though the i understanding is satisfied, the ear is not. But these harmonious cadences are not to be re- peated too often : for, in the first place, our numbers will be soon discovered, — in the next, they will excite the hearcfs disgust, — and, at last, be heartily despised on account of the the apparent facility with which they are form- ed. But there are several other cadences which will have a numerous and pleasing eft'ect : for even the cretic, which consists of a long, a short, and a long syllable, and its companion the pceon, which is equal to it in quantity, though it exceeds it in the number of syllables, is reckoned a proper and a very useful ingredient in harmonious prose: especially as the latter admits of two varieties, as consisting either of one long and three short syllables, which will be lively enough at the beginning of a sentence, but extremely flat at the end ; — or of three short syllables and a long one, which was high- ly approved of by the ancients at the close of a sentence, and which I would not wholly re- ject, though 1 give the preference to others. Even the sober spondee is not to be entirely discarded ; for though it consists of two long syllables, and for that reason may seem rather dull and heavy, it has yet a /irm and stead}" step, which gives it an air of dignity, and espe- cially in the co7nma and the colon ; so that it sufficiently compensates for the slowness of its motion by its peculiar weight and iolemnity. WheA ^1 ill 364 When I speak of feet at the close of a period, I do not mean precisely the last. I would be under- stood, at least, to include the foot which imme- diately precedes it ; and, in many cases, even the foot before that. The iambic, therefore, which consists of a long syllable and a short one, and is equal in time, though not in the number of its syllables, to a choree, which has three short ones ; or even the dactyl, which consists of one long and two short syllables, will unite agree- ably enough with the last foot of a sentence, tvhen that foot is either a choree or a spondee ; for it is immaterial which of them is employed. But the three feet I am mentioning, are neither of them very proper for closing a period, (that is, to form the last foot of it) unless when ^ dactyl is substituted for a cretic (""'), for you may use either of them at pleasure ; because, even in verse, it is of no consequence whether the last syllable is long or short. He, there- fore, who recommended the pceoriy as having the long syllable last, was certainly guilty of an oversight; because the quantity of the last syllable is never regarded. The pc^oii, however, as consisting of four syllables, is reckoned by some to be only a number^ and not a foot. But 365 But call it which you please, it is in general, what all the ancients have represented it, (such as Aristotle, Theophrastus, Theodectes, and Euphorus) the fittest of all others both for the beginning and the middle of a period. They ^are likewise of opinion, that it is equally proper at the end ; where, in my opinion, the cretic deserves the preference. The dochimiis, which consists of five syllables, (i. e. a short and two long ones, and a short, and a long one, as in amlcos thies) may be used indifferently in any part of a sentence, provided it occurs but once : for if it is continued or repeated, our attention to our numbers will be discovered, and alarm the suspicion of the hearer. On the other hand, if we properly blend and intermin- gle the several varieties above-mentioned, our design will not be so readily noticed ; and we shall also prevent that satiety which would arise from an elaborate uniformity of cadence. But the harmony of language does not result entirely from the use of numbers, but from the juncture and composition of our words ; and from that neatness and concinnity of expression which I have already mentioned. By composition, I here mean when our words are so judicious* 366 ly connected as to produce an agreeable sound (independent of numbers) which rather ap- pears to be the effect of natufre than of art ; as in the following passage from Crassus, Nain ubi ludibo dominatur, innocenticE leve prcesi- flium est : ' for here the mere order in whiclj, the words are connected produces a harmony of sound, without any visible attention of the speaker. When the ancients, therefore, (I mean Herodotus, and Thucydides, and all who flourished in the same age) composed a nume- rous and a musical ))criod, it must rather be attributed to the casual order of their words, than to the labour and artifice of the writer. But there are likewise certain forms of expres- sion, which have such a natural concinnity, as will necessarily have a similar effect to that of regular numbers. For when parallel circum- stances are compared, or opposite ones contrast- ed, or wordsof the same termination are placed in a regular succession, they seldom fail to pro- duce *In the sentence which is here quoted from Crassus, eyery word which ends with a consonant is immediately succeeded hy another which begins with a Towel ; and, vice versdy if the preceding word ends with a vowel, the next begins with » consonant. 367 duce a numerous cadence. But I have already treated of these, and subjoined a few examples ; so that we are hereby furnished with an addi- tional and a copious variety of means to avoid the uniformity of cadence above-mentioned ; especially as these measured forms of expres- sion may be occasionally relaxed and dilated. There is, however, a material difference be- tween a style which is merely numerous, (or, iu other words, which has a moderate resem- blance to metre) and that which is entirely composed oi numbers : the latter is an insuffer- able fault ; but our language, without the for- mer, would be absolutely vague, unpolished, and dissipated. But as a numerous style (strictly so called) is not frequently, and indeed but seldom ad- missible in forensic causes, — it seems necessary to enquire, in the next place, what are those commas 2i nd colons before-mentioned, and which, in real causes, should occupy the major part of an oration. The period, or complete sentence, is usually composed of four divisions, which are called members, (or colons) that it may properly fill the ear, and be neither longer Hor shorter than is requisite for that purpose. But \ S6$ But it soAetimes, or rather frequently happens, that a sentence either falls short of, or exceeds the limits of a regular period, to prevent it from fatiguing the ear on the one hand, or disappointing it on the other. What I mean is to recommend an agreeable mediocrity : for we are not treating of verse, but of rhetorical prose, which is confessedly more free and un- confined. A full period, then, is generally composed of four parts, which may be com- pared to as many hexameter verses, each of which have their proper points, or particles of continuation, by which they arc connected so as to form a perfect period. But when we speak by colojiSy we interrupt their union, and, as often as occasion requires (which indeed will frequently be the case) break off with ease from this laboured and suspicious flow of language ; but yet nothing should be so numerous in re- ality as that which appears to be least so, and yet has a forcible effect. Such is the following passage in Crassus :— •** Missos facient pa- tronos ; ipsi prodeant.*' "Let them dismiss their patrons: let them answer for them- selves." Unless ** ipsi prodeanf was pro- nounced after a pause, the hearer must have discovered 369 discovered a complete iambic verse. It would have had a better cadence in prose if he had said ''prodeant ipsi.'' But I am only to con* sider the species, and not the cadence of the sentence. He goes on, " Cur clandestinis consiliis nos oppugnant ? cur de ptrfugis mstris copias comparant contra nos ^" " Why do they attack us by clandestine mea- sures ? why do they collect forces against us from our own deserters?" In the former passage there are two commas : in the latter he first makes use of the colon, and afterwards of the period: but the period is not a long one, as only consisting of two colons, and the whole terminates in spondees. In this manner Cras- sus generally expressed himself; and I much approve his method. But wlien we speak either in commas, or colons, we should be very attentive to the bar- mony of their cadence : as in the following in- stance,—" Domus tibi deerat ? at habebai.,^ Pecunia super abat? at egebasS' "Was J you without a habitation ? You had a house of your own.^^Was your pocket well pro- vided ? You was ' not master of a farthing." These are four coiymas ; but the two following V^^- "• B b members 370 members are both colons ;—" Incurristi aniens^ in columnas, in alienos insanus insanisti." " You rushed like a madman upon your best supporters; you vented your fury on your enemies without mercy." The whole is af- terwards supported by a full period, as by a solid basis ;— " Depressant, ccecam, jacentem domum, pluris quam te, ct fortunas tuas (SstimAsti." " You have shewn more regard to an unprospcrous, an obscure, and a fallen family, than to your own safety and reputa- tion. '• This sentence ends with a dichorec, but the preceding one in a double spondee. For in those sentences which arc to be used like daggers for close-fighting, their very shortness mrkes our numbers less exceptionable. They frequently consist of a single number ;— gene- rally of tu-o, with the addition perhaps of half a foot to each : and very seldom of more than three. To speak in commas or colons has a very good effect in real causes ; and especially in those parts of an oration where it is your business either to prove or refute : as in my second defence of Cornelius, where I exclaimed, O callidos homines ! O rem excogitatmn ! O ingenia jnetuendaT "What admirable schemers ! 371 schemers! what a curious contrivance! what form.dable talents !" Thus far I spoke in colons : and afterwards by commas; and then returned to the colon, in " Testes dare volumus." '< We are willing to produce our witnesses." This was succeeded by the Mlo^vlng period, consist- ing of two colons, which is the shortest that can be formed,-" Q„e.«, quc^so, nostrum fefeU lit ita tw essefacturos ?" " Which of us think you, had not tl>e sense to foresee that you would proceed in this manner?' There is no method of expressing ourselves which, if pro- perly timed, IS more agreeable or forcible, than these rapid turns, which are completed in two or three words, and sometimes in a single one • especially when they are properly diversified,' and internnngled here and there with a nume- rous period ; which Egesias avoids with such a ridiculous nicety, that while he affects to inntate Lysias (who was almost a second De- ' mosthenes) he seems to be continually cutting capers, and clipping sentence after 'sentence He IS as fnvolous in his sentiments as in his lan- guage : so that no person who is acquainted with Ins writn.gs, need to seek any farther for - coxcomb. But [ have selected several ex- ^^- ample? I ' i I f I 372 amples from Crassus, and a few of my own, that any person, who is so inclined, may have an opportunity of judging with his own ears, what is really numerous, as well in the shortest as in any other kind of sentences. Having, therefore, treated of a 7iumerous style more copiously than any author before me, I shall now proceed to say something of its uti- 6^ lit]/. For to speak \vith elegance, and like an orator (as no one, my Brutus, knows better than yourself) is nothing more than to express the choicest sentiments in the finest language. The noblest thoughts will be of little service to an orator, unless he is able to communicate them in a correct and agreeable style : nor will the splendor of our expressions appear to a proper advantage, unless they are carefully and judiciouslv ranged. Permit me to add, that the beauty of both will be considerably heightened by the harmony of our numbers : --such numbers (for I cannot repeat it too often) as are not only not cemented together, hke those of the poets, but which avoid all ap- pearance of metre, and have as little resem- blance to it as possible ; though it is certamly true that the numbers themselves are the same, not 373 not only of the poets and orators, but of all in general who exercise the faculty of speech, and, indeed, of every instrument which produces a - sound whose time can be measured by the ear. It is owing entirely to the diiferent arrange- ment of our feet that a sentence assumes either the easy air of prose, or the uniformity of verse. Call it, therefore, by what name you please » (composition, perfection, or number) it is a necessary restraint upon our language ; not only (as Aristotle and Theophrastus have observed) to prevent our sentences (which should be limited neither by the breath of the speaker, nor the pointing of a transcriber, but by the sole restraint ofnu?nber) from running: on with- - out intermission like a bablins: current of water ; but chiefly, because our language, when properly measured, has a much greater effect than when it is loose and unconfined. For as wrestlers and gladiators, whether they parry or make an assault, have a certain grace in their motions, so that every effort which contributes to the defence or the victory of the combatants, presents an agreeable attitude to the eye ; so the powers of language can neither give nor evade an important blow, unless they Bh 3 arc 374 irc gracefully exerted. That style, therefore, which is not regulated by numbers, is to me as unbecoming as the motions of a gladiator who has not been properly trained and exercised : and so far is our language from being enervat- edhy a skilful arrangement of our words (as is pretended by those who, for want either of proper instructors, capacity, or diligence, have not been able to attain it) that, on the contrary, without this, it is impossible it should have any force or efficacy. But it requires a long and attentive course of practice to avoid the blemishes of those who were unacquainted with this measured species of composition, so as not to transpose our words too openly to assist the cadence and harmony of our periods; which L. Caelius Antipater, in the introduction to his Punic War, declares he would never attempt, unless when compelled by necessity. '' O virum simplicon, (says he, yspeakingof himself) qui 7ios nihil cel4t ; sa- pientem, qui serviendum necesdtati putet.*' '* O simple man, who has not the skill his art to conceal ; and yet to the rigid laws of neces- sity he has the wisdom to submit." But he was totally unskilled in composition. By us, however, S75 however, both in writing and speaking, neces- sity is never admitted as a valid plea ; for, in fact, there is no such thing as an absolute con- straint upon the order and arrangement of our words ; and, if there vv^as, it is certainly un- necessary to own it. But Antipater, though he requests the indulgence of Laelius, to whom he dedicates his work, and attempts to excuse himself, frequently transposes his words with- out contributing in the least either to the harmony, or agreeable cadence of his periods. There are others, and particularly the Asiatics, who are such slaves to number, as to insert words which have'no use nor meaning to fill up the vacuities in a sentence. There are like-, wise some who, in imitation of Hegesias (a no- torious trifler as well in this as in every other respect) curtail and mince their numbers, and are thus betrayed into the low and paltry style of the Sicilians. Another fault in composition is that which occurs in the speeches of Hiero- clcs and Menecles, two brothers, who may be considered as the princes of Asiatic eloquence, and, in my opinion, are by no means contemp- tible ; for though they deviate from the style of nature, and the strict laws of Atticism, yet B b 4 they i 576 they abundantly compensate the defect by the richness and fertility of their language. But they have no variety of cadence, and their sen- tences are almost always terminated in the same mannep. He therefore, who carefully avoids these blemishes, and who neither transposes his words too openly, nor inserts any thing superfluous or unmeaning to fill up the chasms of a period, — nor curtails and clips his lan- guage, so as to interrupt and enervate the force of it, — nor confines himself to a dull uni- formity of cadence, — he may justly be said to avoid the principal and most striking defects of prosaic harmony. As to its positive graces, these we have already specified ; and from thence the particular blemishes which are op- posite to each, will readily occur to the atten- tive reader. ? Of w^hat consequence it is to regulate the structure of our language, maybe easily tried by selecting a well-wrought period from some orator of reputation, and changing the ar- rangement of the words'; the beauty of it would * Professor IVard lias rommented upon an rxample of this kind from the preface to the Vth volume of the Spec- tator : I ^77 would then be mangled and destroyed. Sup- pose, for instance, we take the following pas- sage fiom my defence of Cornelius,—" JVegue me tator : — " lo« have acted in so TTmckconsistenci/ with your* self, and promoted the interest of your country in so uniform a manner; that even thos€, who would misrepresent your generous designs for the public good, cannot but approve the steadiness and intrepidity, with which you pursue themy I think, says the Doctor, this may be justly esteemed a handsome period. It begins with ease, rises gradually till the voice is inflected, then sinks again, and ends with a just cadency. And perhaps there is not a word in it, whose situation would be altered to an advantage. Let us' now but shift the place of one word in the last member and we shall spoil the beauty of the whole sentence. For if, instead of saying, as it now stands, cannot but approve the steadiness and intrepidity, icith ijohieh you pursue thon; we put it thus, cannot but approve th€ steadiness and intre^ pidity zchich you pursue them with ; the cadency will be flat and languid, and the harmony of the period entirely lost. Let us try it again by altering the place of the two las t members , which at present s UJ o o r^ ►- k>i« ac -) o rw > iri iipi ni_i 1, 1 I.I iPtW^wfW c y . 'I F' ft 1 D i s — Tyyi^» Nn ip B ii j ;w m i 1 . n il-