period of Greek and Roman learning, the municipal laws, in every state,
were but few and simple, and the decision of causes was, in a great
measure, left to the equity and common sense of the judges. The study of
the laws was not then a laborious occupation, requiring the drudgery of
a whole life to finish it, and incompatible with every other study or
profession. The great statesmen and generals among the Romans were all
lawyers; and Cicero, to show the facility of acquiring this science,
declares, that in the midst of all his occupations, he would undertake,
in a few days, to make himself a complete civilian. Now, where a pleader
addresses himself to the equity of his judges, he has much more room to
display his eloquence, than where he must draw his arguments from strict
laws, statutes, and precedents. In the former case many circumstances
must be taken in, many personal considerations regarded, and even favour
and inclination, which it belongs to the orator, by his art and
eloquence, to conciliate, may be disguised under the appearance of
equity. But how shall a modern lawyer have leisure to quit his toilsome
occupations, in order to gather the flowers of Parnassus? Or what
opportunity shall we have of displaying them, amidst the rigid and
subtile arguments, objections, and replies, which he is obliged to make
use of? The greatest genius, and greatest orator, who should pretend to
plead before the _Chancellor_, after a month's study of the laws, would
only labour to make himself ridiculous.
I am ready to own, that this circumstance, of the multiplicity and
intricacy of laws, is a discouragement to eloquence in modern times; but
I assert, that it will not entirely account for the decline of that
noble art. It may banish oratory from Westminster Hall, but not from
either house of Parliament. Among the Athenians, the Areopagites
expressly forbade all allurements of eloquence; and some have
pretended, that in the Greek orations, written in the _judiciary_ form,
there is not so bold and rhetorical a style as appears in the Roman. But
to what a pitch did the Athenians carry their eloquence in the
_deliberative_ kind, when affairs of state were canvassed, and the
liberty, happiness, and honour of the republic, were the subject of
debate! Disputes of this nature elevate the genius above all others, and
give the fullest scope to eloquence; and such disputes are very frequent
in this nation.
_Secondly_, It may be pretended, that the decline of eloquence is owing
to the superior good sense of the moderns, who reject with disdain all
those rhetorical tricks employed to seduce the judges, and will admit of
nothing but solid argument in any debate or deliberation. If a man be
accused of murder, the fact must be proved by witnesses and evidence,
and the laws will afterwards determine the punishment of the criminal.
It would be ridiculous to describe, in strong colours, the horror and
cruelty of the action; to introduce the relations of the dead, and, at a
signal, make them throw themselves at the feet of the judges, imploring
justice, with tears and lamentations: and still more ridiculous would it
be, to employ a picture representing the bloody deed, in order to move
the judges by the display of so tragical a spectacle, though we know
that this artifice was sometimes practised by the pleaders of old. Now,
banish the pathetic from public discourses, and you reduce the speakers
merely to modern eloquence; that is, to good sense, delivered in proper
expressions.
Perhaps it may be acknowledged, that our modern customs, or our superior
good sense, if you will, should make our orators more cautious and
reserved than the ancient, in attempting to inflame the passions, or
elevate the imagination of their audience; but I see no reason why it
should make them despair absolutely of succeeding in that attempt. It
should make them redouble their art, not abandon it entirely. The
ancient orators seem also to have been on their guard against this
jealousy of their audience; but they took a different way of eluding it.
They hurried away with such a torrent of sublime and pathetic, that they
left their hearers no leisure to perceive the artifice by which they
were deceived. Nay, to consider the matter aright, they were not
deceived by any artifice. The orator, by the force of his own genius and
eloquence, first inflamed himself with anger, indignation, pity, sorrow;
and then communicated those impetuous movements to his audience.
Does any man pretend to have more good sense than Julius Cæsar?; yet
that haughty conqueror, we know, was so subdued by the charms of
Cicero's eloquence, that he was, in a manner, constrained to change his
settled purpose and resolution, and to absolve a criminal, whom, before
that orator pleaded, he was determined to condemn.
Some objections, I own, notwithstanding his vast success, may lie
against some passages of the Roman orator. He is too florid and
rhetorical: his figures are too striking and palpable: the divisions of
his discourse are drawn chiefly from the rules of the schools: and his
wit disdains not always the artifice even of a pun, rhyme, or jingle of
words. The Grecian addressed himself to an audience much less refined
than the Roman senate or judges. The lowest vulgar of Athens were his
sovereigns, and the arbiters of his eloquence. Yet is his manner more
chaste and austere than that of the other. Could it be copied, its
success would be infallible over a modern assembly. It is rapid harmony,
exactly adjusted to the sense; it is vehement reasoning, without any
appearance of art: it is disdain, anger, boldness, freedom, involved in
a continued stream of argument: and, of all human productions, the
orations of Demosthenes present to us the models which approach the
nearest to perfection.
_Thirdly_, It may be pretended, that the disorders of the ancient
governments, and the enormous crimes of which the citizens were often
guilty, afforded much ampler matter for eloquence than can be met with
among the moderns. Were there no Verres or Catiline, there would be no
Cicero. But that this reason can have no great influence, is evident. It
would be easy to find a Philip in modern times, but where shall we find
a Demosthenes?
What remains, then, but that we lay the blame on the want of genius, or
of judgment, in our speakers, who either found themselves incapable of
reaching the heights of ancient eloquence, or rejected all such
endeavours, as unsuitable to the spirit of modern assemblies? A few
successful attempts of this nature might rouse the genius of the nation,
excite the emulation of the youth, and accustom our ears to a more
sublime and more pathetic elocution, than what we have been hitherto
entertained with. There is certainly something accidental in the first
rise and progress of the arts in any nation. I doubt whether a very
satisfactory reason can be given why ancient Rome, though it received
all its refinements from Greece, could attain only to a relish for
statuary, painting, and architecture, without reaching the practice of
these arts. While modern Rome has been excited by a few remains found
among the ruins of antiquity, and has produced artists of the greatest
eminence and distinction. Had such a cultivated genius for oratory, as
Waller's for poetry, arisen during the civil wars, when liberty began to
be fully established, and popular assemblies to enter into all the most
material points of government, I am persuaded so illustrious an example
would have given a quite different turn to British eloquence, and made
us reach the perfection of the ancient model. Our orators would then
have done honour to their country, as well as our poets, geometers, and
philosophers; and British Ciceros have appeared, as well as British
Archimedeses and Virgils.[1]
It is seldom or never found, when a false taste in poetry or eloquence
prevails among any people, that it has been preferred to a true, upon
comparison and reflection. It commonly prevails merely from ignorance of
the true, and from the want of perfect models to lead men into a juster
apprehension, and more refined relish of those productions of genius.
When _these_ appear, they soon unite all suffrages in their favour, and,
by their natural and powerful charms, gain over even the most
prejudiced to the love and admiration of them. The principles of every
passion, and of every sentiment, is in every man; and, when touched
properly, they rise to life, and warm the heart, and convey that
satisfaction, by which a work of genius is distinguished from the
adulterate beauties of a capricious wit and fancy. And, if this
observation be true, with regard to all the liberal arts, it must be
peculiarly so with regard to eloquence; which, being merely calculated
for the public, and for men of the world, cannot, without any pretence
of reason, appeal from the people to more refined judges, but must
submit to the public verdict without reserve or limitation. Whoever,
upon comparison, is deemed by a common audience the greatest orator,
ought most certainly to be pronounced such by men of science and
erudition. And though an indifferent speaker may triumph for a long
time, and be esteemed altogether perfect by the vulgar, who are
satisfied with his accomplishments, and know not in what he is
defective; yet, whenever the true genius arises, he draws to him the
attention of every one, and immediately appears superior to his rival.
Now, to judge by this rule, ancient eloquence, that is, the sublime and
passionate, is of a much juster taste than the modern, or the
argumentative and rational, and, if properly executed, will always have
more command and authority over mankind. We are satisfied with our
mediocrity, because we have had no experience of any thing better: but
the ancients had experience of both; and upon comparison, gave the
preference to that kind of which they have left us such applauded
models. For, if I mistake not, our modern eloquence is of the same style
or species with that which ancient critics denominated Attic eloquence,
that is, calm, elegant, and subtile, which instructed the reason more
than affected the passions, and never raised its tone above argument or
common discourse. Such was the eloquence of Lysias among the Athenians,
and of Calvus among the Romans. These were esteemed in their time; but,
when compared with Demosthenes and Cicero, were eclipsed like a taper
when set in the rays of a meridian sun. Those latter orators possessed
the same elegance, and subtilty, and force of argument with the former;
but, what rendered them chiefly admirable, was that pathetic and
sublime, which, on proper occasions, they threw into their discourse,
and by which they commanded the resolution of their audience.
Of this species of eloquence we have scarcely had any instance in
England, at least in our public speakers. In our writers, we have had
some instances which have met with great applause, and might assure our
ambitious youth of equal or superior glory in attempts for the revival
of ancient eloquence. Lord Bolingbroke's productions, with all their
defects in argument, method, and precision, contain a force and energy
which our orators scarcely ever aim at; though it is evident that such
an elevated style has much better grace in a speaker than in a writer,
and is assured of more prompt and more astonishing success. It is there
seconded by the graces of voice and action: the movements are mutually
communicated between the orator and the audience: and the very aspect of
a large assembly, attentive to the discourse of one man, must inspire
him with a peculiar elevation, sufficient to give a propriety to the
strongest figures and expressions. It is true, there is a great
prejudice against _set speeches_; and a man cannot escape ridicule, who
repeats a discourse as a schoolboy does his lesson, and takes no notice
of any thing that has been advanced in the course of the debate. But
where is the necessity of falling into this absurdity? A public speaker
must know beforehand the question under debate. He may compose all the
arguments, objections, and answers, such as he thinks will be most
proper for his discourse. If any thing new occur, he may supply it from
his own invention; nor will the difference be very apparent between his
elaborate and his extemporary compositions. The mind naturally continues
with the same _impetus_ or _force_, which it has acquired by its motion
as a vessel, once impelled by the oars, carries on its course for some
time when the original impulse is suspended.
I shall conclude this subject with observing, that, even though our
modern orators should not elevate their style, or aspire to a rivalship
with the ancient; yet there is, in most of their speeches, a material
defect which they might correct, without departing from that composed
air of argument and reasoning to which they limit their ambition. Their
great affectation of extemporary discourses has made them reject all
order and method, which seems so requisite to argument, and without
which it is scarcely possible to produce an entire conviction on the
mind. It is not that one would recommend many divisions in a public
discourse, unless the subject very evidently offer them: but it is easy,
without this formality, to observe a method, and make that method
conspicuous to the hearers, who will be infinitely pleased to see the
arguments rise naturally from one another, and will retain a more
thorough persuasion than can arise from the strongest reasons which are
thrown together in confusion.
[1] I have confessed that there is something accidental in the origin
and progress of the arts in any nation; and yet I cannot forbear
thinking, that if the other learned and polite nations of Europe had
possessed the same advantages of a popular government, they would
probably have carried eloquence to a greater height than it has yet
reached in Britain. The French sermons, especially those of Flechier and
Bourdaloue, are much superior to the English in this particular; and in
Flechier there are many strokes of the most sublime poetry. His funeral
sermon on the Marechal de Turenne, is a good instance. None but private
causes in that country, are ever debated before their Parliament or
Courts of Judicature; but, notwithstanding this disadvantage, there
appears a spirit of eloquence in many of their lawyers, which, with
proper cultivation and encouragement, might rise to the greatest
heights. The pleadings of Patru are very elegant, and give us room to
imagine what so fine a genius could have performed in questions
concerning public liberty or slavery, peace or war, who exerts himself
with such success in debates concerning the price of an old horse, or
the gossiping story of a quarrel betwixt an abbess and her nuns. For it
is remarkable, that this polite writer, though esteemed by all the men
of wit in his time, was never employed in the most considerable causes
of their courts of judicature, but lived and died in poverty; from an
ancient prejudice industriously propagated by the Dunces in all
countries, _That a man of genius is unfit for business._ The disorders
produced by the ministry of Cardinal Mazarine, made the Parliament of
Paris enter into the discussion of public affairs; and during that short
interval, there appeared many symptoms of the revival of ancient
eloquence. The Avocat-General, Talon, in an oration, invoked on his
knees the spirit of St Louis to look down with compassion on his divided
and unhappy people, and to inspire them, from above, with the love of
concord and unanimity. The members of the French Academy have attempted
to give us models of eloquence in their harangues at their admittance;
but having no subject to discourse upon, they have run altogether into a
fulsome strain of panegyric and flattery, the most barren of all
subjects. Their style, however, is commonly, on these occasions, very
elevated and sublime, and might reach the greatest heights, were it
employed on a subject more favourable and engaging.
There are some circumstances in the English temper and genius, which are
disadvantageous to the progress of eloquence, and render all attempts of
that kind more dangerous and difficult among them, than among any other
nation in the universe. The English are conspicuous for good sense,
which makes them very jealous of any attempts to deceive them, by the
flowers of rhetoric and elocution. They are also peculiarly _modest_;
which makes them consider it as a piece of arrogance to offer any thing
but reason to public assemblies, or attempt to guide them by passion or
fancy. I may, perhaps, be allowed to add that the people in general are
not remarkable for delicacy of taste, or for sensibility to the charms
of the Muses. Their musical parts, to use the expression of a noble
author, are but indifferent. Hence their comic poets, to move them, must
have recourse to obscenity; their tragic poets to blood and slaughter.
And hence, their orators, being deprived of any such resource, have
abandoned altogether the hopes of moving them, and have confined
themselves to plain argument and reasoning.
These circumstances, joined to particular accidents, may, perhaps, have
retarded the growth of eloquence in this kingdom; but will not be able
to prevent its success, if ever it appear amongst us. And one may safely
pronounce, that this is a field in which the most flourishing laurels
may yet be gathered, if any youth of accomplished genius, thoroughly
acquainted with all the polite arts, and not ignorant of public
business, should appear in Parliament, and accustom our ears to an
eloquence more commanding and pathetic. And to confirm me in this
opinion, there occur two considerations, the one derived from ancient,
the other from modern times.