The narration will be clear and intelligible if, first, it be exprest in
proper and significant words, which have nothing mean and low, nothing
far-fetched, and nothing uncommon. Second, if it distinguishes exactly
things, persons, times, places, causes; all of which should be
accompanied with a suitable delivery, that the judge may retain the more
easily what is said.
This is a quality neglected by most of our orators, who, charmed by the
applause of a rabble brought together by chance, or even bribed to
applaud with admiration every word and period, can neither endure the
attentive silence of a judicious audience, nor seem to themselves to be
eloquent unless they make everything ring about them with tumultuous
clamor. To explain simply the fact, appears to them too low, and common,
and too much within the reach of the illiterate, but I fancy that what
they despise as easy is not so much because of inclination as because of
inability to effect it. For the more experience we have, the more we
find that nothing else is so difficult as to speak in such a manner that
all who have heard us may think they could acquit themselves equally as
well. The reason for the contrary notion is that what is so said is
considered as merely true and not as fine and beautiful. But will not
the orator express himself in the most perfect manner, when he seems to
speak truth? Now, indeed, the narration is laid out as a champion-ground
for eloquence to display itself in; the voice, the gesture, the
thoughts, the expression, are all worked up to a pitch of extravagance,
and what is monstrous, the action is applauded, and yet the cause is far
from being understood. But we shall forego further reflections on this
misguided notion, lest we offend more by reproving faults, than gratify
by giving advice.
The narration will have its due brevity if we begin by explaining the
affair from the point where it is of concern to the judge; next, if we
say nothing foreign to the cause; and last, if we avoid all
superfluities, yet without curtailing anything that may give insight
into the cause or be to its advantage. There is a certain brevity of
parts, however, which makes a long whole: "I came to the harbor, I saw a
ship ready for sailing, I asked the price for passengers, I agreed as to
what I should give, I went aboard, we weighed anchor, we cleared the
coast, and sailed on briskly." None of these circumstances could be
exprest in fewer words, but it is sufficient to say, "I sailed from the
port." And as often as the end of a thing sufficiently denotes what went
before, we may rest satisfied with it as facilitating the understanding
of all other circumstances.
But often when striving to be short, we become obscure, a fault equally
to be avoided, therefore it is better that the narration should have a
little too much, than that it should lack enough. What is redundant,
disgusts; what is necessary is cut down with danger. I would not have
this rule restricted to what is barely sufficient for pronouncing
judgment on, because the narration may be concise, yet not, on that
account, be without ornament. In such cases it would appear as coming
from an illiterate person. Pleasure, indeed, has a secret charm; and the
things which please seem less tedious. A pleasant and smooth road, tho
it be longer, fatigues less than a rugged and disagreeable short cut. I
am not so fond of conciseness as not to make room for brightening a
narration with proper embellishments. If quite homely and curtailed on
all sides, it will be not so much a narration as a poor huddling up of
things together.