What we require in the orator is, in general, a character of goodness,
not only mild and pleasing, but humane, insinuating, amiable, and
charming to the hearer; and its greatest perfection will be if all, as
influenced by it, shall seem to flow from the nature of things and
persons, that so the morals of the orator may shine forth from his
discourse and be known in their genuine colors. This character of
goodness should invariably be maintained by those whom a mutual tie
ought to bind in strict union, whenever it may happen that they suffer
anything from each other, or pardon, or make satisfaction, or admonish,
or reprimand, but far from betraying any real anger or hatred.
A sentiment very powerful for exciting hatred may arise when an act of
submission to our opponents is understood as a silent reproach of their
insolence. Our willingness to yield must indeed show them to be
insupportable and troublesome, and it commonly happens that they who
have desire for railing, and are too free and hot in their invectives,
do not imagine that the jealousy they create is of far greater prejudice
to them than the malice of their speech.
All this presupposes that the orator himself ought to be a good and
humane man. The virtues which he commends, if he possibly can, in his
client, he should possess, or be supposed to possess, himself. In this
way will he be of singular advantage to the cause he undertakes, the
good opinion he has created of himself being a prejudice in its favor.
For if while he speaks he appears to be a bad man, he must in
consequence plead ill, because what he says will be thought repugnant to
justice. The style and manner suitable on these occasions ought,
therefore, to be sweet and insinuating, never hot and imperious, never
hazarded in too elevated a strain. It will be sufficient to speak in a
proper, pleasing, and probable way.
The orator's business in regard to the passions should be not only to
paint atrocious and lamentable things as they are, but even to make
those seem grievous which are considered tolerable, as when we say that
an injurious word is less pardonable than a blow, and that death is
preferable to dishonor. For the powers of eloquence do not consist so
much in forcing the judge into sentiments which the nature of the matter
itself may be sufficient to inspire him with, as they do in producing
and creating, as it were, the same sentiments when the subject may seem
not to admit them. This is the vehemence of oratorical ability which
knows how to equal and even to surpass the enormity and indignity of the
facts it exposes, a quality of singular consequence to the orator, and
one in which Demosthenes excelled all others.