In short, when it is requisite to excite envy, hatred, or indignation
there is greater scope for doing this to advantage in the peroration
than elsewhere. The interest in the accused may naturally excite the
judge's envy, the infamy of his crimes may draw upon him his hatred,
the little respect he shows him may rouse his indignation. If he is
stubborn, haughty, presumptuous, let him be painted in all the glaring
colors that aggravate such vicious temper, and these manifested not only
from his words and deeds, but from face, manner, and dress. I remember,
on my first coming to the bar, a shrewd remark of the accuser of
Cossutianus Capito. He pleaded in Greek before the Emperor, but the
meaning of his words was: "Might it not be said that this man disdains
even to respect Cæsar."
The accuser has recourse frequently to the arousing of compassion,
either by setting forth the distrest state of him for whom he hopes to
find redress, or by describing the desolation and ruin into which his
children and relations are likely thereby to be involved. He may, too,
move the judges by holding out to them a prospect of what may happen
hereafter if injuries and violence remain unpunished, the consequence of
which will be that either his client must abandon his dwelling and the
care of his effects, or must resolve to endure patiently all the
injustice his enemy may try to do him.
The accuser more frequently will endeavor to caution the judge against
the pity with which the defendant intends to inspire him, and he will
stimulate him, in as great a degree as he can, to judge according to his
conscience. Here, too, will be the place to anticipate whatever it is
thought the opponent may do or say, for it makes the judges more
circumspect regarding the sacredness of their oath, and by it the answer
to the pleading may lose the indulgence which it is expected to receive,
together with the charm of novelty in all the particulars which the
accuser has already cleared up. The judges, besides, may be informed of
the answer they should make to those who might threaten to have their
sentence reversed; and this is another kind of recapitulation.
The persons concerned are very proper objects for affecting the mind of
the judge, for the judge does not seem to himself to hear so much the
orator weeping over others' misfortunes, as he imagines his ears are
smitten with the feelings and voice of the distrest. Even their dumb
appearance might be a sufficiently moving language to draw tears, and as
their wretchedness would appear in lively colors if they were to speak
it themselves, so proportionately it must be thought to have a powerful
effect when exprest, as it were, from their own mouths. Just so, in
theatrical representations, the same voice, and the same emphatic
pronunciation, become very interesting under the masks used for
personating different characters. With a like view Cicero, tho he gives
not the voice of a suppliant to Milo, but, on the contrary, commends his
unshaken constancy, yet does he adapt to him words and complaints not
unworthy of a man of spirit: "O my labors, to no purpose undertaken!
Deceiving hopes! Useless projects!"
This exciting of pity, however, should never be long, it being said, not
without reason, that "nothing dries up so soon as tears." If time can
mitigate the pangs of real grief, of course the counterfeit grief
assumed in speaking must sooner vanish; so that if we dally, the auditor
finding himself overcharged with mournful thoughts, tries to resume his
tranquility, and thus ridding himself of the emotion that overpowered
him, soon returns to the exercise of cool reason. We must, therefore,
never allow this kind of emotion to become languid, but when we have
wound up the passions to their greatest height, we must instantly drop
the subject, and not expect that any one will long bewail another's
mishap. Therefore, as in other parts, the discourse should be well
supported, and rather rise, so here particularly it should grow to its
full vigor, because that which makes no addition to what has already
been said seems to diminish it, and a passion soon evaporates that once
begins to subside.
Tears are excited not only by words but by doing certain things, whence
it is not unusual to present the very persons who are in danger of
condemnation, in a garb suitable to their distress, together with their
children and relations. Accusers, too, make it a custom to show a bloody
sword, fractured bones picked out of wounds, and garments drenched in
blood. Sometime, likewise, they unbind wounds to show their condition,
and strip bodies naked to show the stripes they have received. These
acts are commonly of mighty efficacy, as fully revealing the reality of
the occurrence. Thus it was that Cæsar's robe, bloody all over, exposed
in the Forum, drove the people of Rome into an excess of madness. It was
well known that he was assassinated; his body also lay in state, until
his funeral should take place; yet that garment, still dripping with
blood, formed so graphic a picture of the horrible murder that it seemed
to them to have been perpetrated that very instant.
It will not be amiss to hint that the success of the peroration depends
much on the manner of the parties in conforming themselves to the
emotions and action of their advocates. Stupidity, rusticity, and a want
of sensibility and attention, as it is said, throw cold water on a cause
against which the orator can not be too well provided. I have, indeed,
often seen them act quite contrary to their advocate's instructions. Not
the least show of concern could be observed in their countenance. They
laughed foolishly and without reason, and made others laugh by some
ridiculous gesticulation or grimace, especially when the heat of a
debate exhibited anything akin to theatrical action.
An orator of slender ability will acquit himself better if he allows the
judges by themselves to feel the compassion with which his subject may
naturally inspire them, especially since the appearance, and voice, and
studied air of the advocate's countenance are often ridiculed by such as
are not affected by them. Let the orator make an exact estimate of his
powers, therefore, and be conscious of the burden he undertakes. Here
there is no middle state; he must either make his hearers weep, or
expect to be laughed at.
It should not be imagined, as some have thought, that all exciting of
the passions, all sentimental emotions, ought to be confined to the
exordium and peroration. In them they are most frequent, yet other parts
admit them likewise, but in a shorter compass, as their greatest stress
should be reserved for the end. For here, if anywhere, the orator may be
allowed to open all the streams of eloquence. If we have executed all
other parts to advantage, here we take possession of the minds of the
judges, and having escaped all rocks, may expand all our sails for a
favorable gale; and as amplification makes a great part of the
peroration, we then may raise and embellish our style with the choicest
expressions and brightest thoughts. And, indeed, the conclusion of a
speech should bear some resemblance to that of tragedy and comedy,
wherein the actor courts the spectator's applause. In other parts the
passions may be touched upon, as they naturally rise out of the subject,
and no horrible or sorrowful thing should be set forth without
accompanying it with a suitable sentiment. When the debate may be on the
quality of a thing, it is properly subjoined to the proofs of each thing
brought out. When we plead a cause complicated with a variety of
circumstances, then it will be necessary to use many perorations, as it
were; as Cicero does against Verres, lending his tears occasionally to
Philodamus, to the masters of ships, to the crucified Roman citizens,
and to many others.