ON ORATORY.

Iris remarked by Longinus, and by other ancient writers, that the sublimity of genius is to be looked for only in free states. Liberty, he observes, is the nurse of true genius; it animates the spirit, and invigorates the hopes of men; excites honourable emulation, and a desire of excelling in every art. If this reasoning be true, how peculiarly does it apply to oratory, the most exalted object of all literary exertion; to which belongs whatever the perfection of composition can produce, and the perfection of delivery recommend and enforce. Oratory is the power of reasoning, united to the various arts of persuasion, presented by external grace, and by the whole energy of the human powers. Reasoning, divested of rhetorical composition and rhetorical delivery, becomes strict demonstration. Reasoning is distinct from oratory; for though both have the same end in view, yet they use different means to accomplish it. Reasoning appeals to the understanding alone; oratory addresses the passions also. Reasoning proceeds directly to the truth, and exhibits it in the simplest language; oratory chooses the most favourable view of the subject, engages the hearer by the detail of circumstances, interests him by the colouring which it gives them, delights him by ornament, and, having won his attention, assails at once his understanding and his heart. It is true that when the subject admits of demonstration, reasoning is the most powerful; but since in a very few only of those inquiries which occupy the mind of man, can strict demonstration be obtained, the demand for the talents of the orator is more frequent and indispensable in the general business of life. Reasoning is therefore applied principally to philosophical research, and objects of science; oratory to the interests of men, and to subjects admitting choice. One advantage the latter possesses over the former, that oratory constantly avails itself of reasoning where it can be applied; but strict reasoning does not condescend to call in the aid of oratory.

"In ancient times," observes Mr. Hume, "no work of genius was thought to require so great parts and capacity, as speaking in public; and some eminent writers have pronounced the talents even of a great poet or philosopher, to be of an inferior nature to those which are requisite for such an undertaking. Greece and Rome produced, each of them, but one accomplished orator; and whatever praises the other celebrated speakers might merit, they were still esteemed much inferior to these great models of eloquence."

If we advert to the state of eloquence in modern times, and particularly in our own country, how are we to account for its decay, we had almost said its total extinction? To attempt to VOL. I.

C

prove the fact of the low state to which oratory is reduced, would be, we conceive, a superfluous labour: it must be evident to all who have given the slightest attention to the subject. If, however, it be necessary to say any thing on this head, the authority of Hume, of Knox, and Blair, will be sufficient to convince the most sceptical doubter. The Abbé Maury too, who has done ample justice to our national character, has the following passage in his treatise on eloquence.

"Illustrious islanders, the human mind owes you an unceasing debt of gratitude for your sublime discoveries on light, on gravitation, on electricity, on the aberration of the stars; but let not your pride be wounded, if we contest the pre-eminence with your orators. Eloquence, the usual companion of liberty, is a stranger to your country. Do not affect a false and barbarous contempt of gifts which nature hath denied you. Turn your attention to the models of antiquity, and to the examples of Greece and Rome. Add to the glory of the good actions which are so common in your country, the merit, perhaps no less honourable, of knowing how to celebrate them."

That so great and important a change has not been effected without an adequate cause, will not, we apprehend, be for a moment denied: what that cause is, let us impartially endeavour to demonstrate. A speculative inquirer would, we think, be inclined to attribute it to one or other of the following:

1. That there is less freedom now than there was when oratory was so highly prized;

Or 2. That the subjects of which it treats are less important; Or 3. That its influence over the mind is less powerful;

Or 4. That the intellectual powers are less vigorous, and insufficient for its production.

Let us briefly examine each of these positions. With regard to the first, it would be worse than useless to argue the point, or gravely to discuss the relative advantages in favour of ancient or modern freedom. If ever there were a period in the annals of time, if ever there were a country in the history of nations, in which liberty triumphed in proud pre-eminence, that country is Great Britain, that period is the present: nor is it confined to the present only, but extended at least as far back as the Revolution. Is there, or could there be, in Athens or in Rome, a freedom more unbounded than exists among ourselves? Is there not in our senate, in our courts of judicature, and in our temples of worship, is there not in every place, and on every occasion in which discussion and debate conduce to the developement of truth, or promote the interests of mankind, a license of speech without restraint, or restrained only by those limits which decency and propriety impose? Sufficient, we think, has been said to prove that the first cause, assigned for the decay of oratory, has no existence; let us then advert to the second.

Are the subjects of which oratory now treats, or rather of which it ought to treat, less important than those to which it was formerly applied?

Almost a single observation will suffice to prove that this is not the case. We have before said that oratory is applied to the interests of men, and subjects admitting choice: and are not our interests as high, are not the subjects as important as those for which the orators of old contended? Do not occasions continually occur both in parliament and inthe courts of justice, wherein all that is valuable to men in this life depends on the power of the orator? At the bar indeed we possess one decided advantage over the most eloquent of ancient nations: for in the celebrated court of the Areopagus, the causes were heard in the night, and the pleaders were obliged to divest their speeches of every oratorical ornament, lest they should be supposed to influence the rigid justice of that high tribunal. But above all, in the pulpit, what a field of eloquence is opened to the preacher the universal and most important interests of mankind! far beyond those for which the thunder of Demosthenes rolled in Athens, far beyond those for which Cicero shook the senate-house in Rome.

Having proved this ground to be as untenable as the former, let us examine the third question.

Is the influence of oratory over the mind less powerful than formerly?

We know it has been said by some, and particularly by Dr. Blair, for whose opinion we entertain the highest respect, that the influence of oratory is much more limited in modern than in ancient times. He attributes the change, in part, to that correct turn of thinking which has been so much studied among the moderns. He says, "in proportion as the world has advanced, philosophy has made greater progress. A certain strictness of good sense has, in this island especially, been cultivated and introduced into every subject. Hence we are more on our guard against the flowers of elocution: we are on the watch, we are jealous of being deceived by oratory. Our public speakers are obliged to be more reserved than the ancients, in their attempt to elevate the imagination, and warm the passions; and by the influence of prevailing taste, their own genius is sobered and chastened, perhaps, in too great a degree. It is likely too, I confess, that what we fondly ascribe to our correctness and good sense, is owing in a great measure to our coldness and phlegm. For the vivacity and sensibility of the Greeks and Romans, more especially of the former, seem to have been much greater than ours, and to have given them a higher relish of all the beauties of oratory."

Notwithstanding our respect for Dr.Blair, we are strongly inclined to doubt the accuracy of his reasoning, or to allow it, at most, no more than a very limited sway. That the ancients were more sensibly alive to the melody and music of their sentences, and

more attentive to the mechanical part of their language, is too well known to be doubted. Cicero, indeed, gives us a very striking example of it in his work entitled The Orator. He says, "I have frequently been witness to bursts of exclamation in the public assemblies, when sentences closed musically; for that is a pleasure which the ear expects." He then proceeds to instance the effect of an harmonious period in one of Carbo's orations, spoken in his hearing. The sentence was Patris dictum sapiens temeritas filii comprobravit. By means of which alone he tells us, Tantus clamor concionis excitatus est, ut prorsus admirabile esset.

Now we are very willing to allow that no sentence, however musical, would produce such an effect on an English audience, as this sentence of Carbo's did on the Romans: but we are to remember that this applause was excited not by the beauty of the composition, or by the grace of Carbo's delivery, but by the arrangement of the words; and neither were the passions or the understanding affected, but merely the ears. When we consider, moreover, that the declamation of the ancients approached very nearly to our recitative, we shall probably think that this example is far from proving that we are not as sensible of fine composition and graceful delivery, as the Romans were. Indeed, to argue the contrary, is to oppose both reason and nature. Aristotle, no mean authority on this subject, makes the following observations upon the characters and situations of those who are easily affected by the description of the misfortunes of

others.

"It is evident that a man likely to feel commiseration, may be classed under some of the following descriptions. One who thinks himself liable to misfortune, either in his own person, or in that of some person dear to him, or who thinks himself in danger of such a misfortune as has been described, or of a similar one. For this reason, they who are already undone, are not disposed to pity; for they do not think they can suffer any thing worse: nor they who consider themselves very fortunate; they are apt rather to be insolent; for since they think that all good fortune belongs to them, they must evidently suppose themselves not subject to any reverse. But they are disposed to pity, who, having already felt misfortunes, but having overcome them, suppose themselves still liable to suffer. And they also who are advanced in life, both on account of their observations and experience; the feeble in constitution, and the timid, in a still greater degree; the learned, because they form a just estimate of life; they who have parents, or children, or wives, for these are a part of themselves, and may be subject to the evils mentioned; and they who are not under the influence of vehement passions, as anger or valour (for such persons are careless of the future); or of any insolent feeling, (for neither do they think themselves subject to misfortune), but those who are intermediate between these.

They feel for others, who entertain a good opinion of mankind; but he who does not think well of them, considers, of course, that all deserve to suffer. Upon the whole, if a man recollect that similar misfortunes have befallen himself, or any of those dear to him, or when he apprehends that they may befal either himself or his own relations, then we have observed that a man so circumstanced is open to the feelings of commiseration*."

These are a few only of the subjects that are under the control of the orator; but as long as an appeal can be made through the medium of these to the passions and the understanding, so long will oratory maintain its influence over the minds of men; because these are feelings which have nature for their source, and which are not liable to the vicissitudes of fashion, or the command of power. Opinionum commenta delet dies; naturæ judicia confirmat.

Having, we trust, satisfactorily negatived three of the positions laid down to account for the decay of eloquence, let us proceed to examine the fourth and last.

Are the intellectual powers less vigorous than formerly, and insufficient for the production of eloquence? We cannot suppose this, without contradicting both reason and truth. Although in many points the ancients have attained an eminence that we can scarcely hope to reach, yet we must carefully guard against a blind and implicit veneration for them. The improvements of the world have not, it is true, been always in proportion to the centuries that have passed over it; yet at intervals, there has always arisen some happy genius who could improve on what had gone before, and also invent something new. Hence in natural philosophy, astronomy, and other sciences that depend on an extensive knowledge and observation of facts, modern philosophers have an unquestionable superiority; and Dr. Blair adds, that not only in pure reasoning is there more precision among the moderns than there was among the ancients, but also in studies that relate to taste and fine writing the progress of society must be allowed to have given us some advantages. In history, for instance, there is certainly more political knowledge in several European nations, than there was in ancient Greece and Rome. We are better acquainted with the nature of government, because we have seen it under a greater variety of forms and revolutions. In the more complex kinds of poetry too, we have gained much in point of regularity and accuracy. In dramatic performances, having the advantage of the ancient models, it must be confessed that we have made improvements in the variety of the characters, the conduct of the plot, and attention to probability and decorum. If this improvement be manifest in the other arts and sciences, why are the powers of the mind to be deemed insufficient for the

*Arist. Rhet. 1. 2. c 10.