produce an adequate idea of the bounding elasticity,-the matchless symmetry and ethereal attitude of the entire Apollo, by the production of a finger

or an ear.

Some of the smaller Orations of Demosthenes,-and those too, which have contributed not a little to his reputation (the Philippics we mean), might be selected, in which not one ornament (in the ordinary sense of the word) or figure of speech is discoverable. A certain studied temperance and downright homeliness of manner, and a choice of matter illustrating and enforcing his view of the subject, and never above it, pervade the whole, -mixed up, indeed, with an earnestness, zeal, force and passion, which account for their celebrity.-Even in the Oration for the Crown,-the most perfect, undoubtedly, and comprehending in it the excellences of the rest, though every species of weapon in the oratorical armoury is employed,poetical description,-indignant exaggeration,-inflammatory declamation, and bold apostrophe, yet is there not an instance, we will venture to say, (and we appeal to those of our readers the most confidently who have studied him best), in which they appear to be ostentatiously introduced, or in which they are not sustained by the surrounding passages of the speech. They, indeed, more nearly resemble an occasional and accidental inflammation of the fervid and electric torrent which the orator is pouring on his hearers, than foreign and adventitious lights brought forward for mere purposes of shining and display. The sublime appeal to the manes of the heroes of Marathon and Platea, to which we shall not be suspected of referring, in order to bestow, for the thousandth time, unnecessary commendation, or to compare it, as we have seen Dionysius did, with any effort of human composition, we notice for a different object. It is, perhaps, one of the boldest and most excessive, and, from the constant reference to it, we must suppose, one of the most successful of his figures. Those, however, who will take up the speech at that part where Demosthenes describes the jealousy and distrust which rankled between the Athenians and Thebans before the battle of Cheronæa, the removal of which formed one of the most successful feats of his policy and eloquence, and will pursue his lofty appeals to national honour, and the deeds of their ancestors, which called upon the Athenians, if necessary, rather to fall in a struggle for liberty and glory, than to pursue inglorious security in obedience to Philip;-those, we say, who follow up the preceding passages with any thing of an adequate spirit, will feel themselves, from the tone of excitement and elevation which surround it, upon a level with the sublimity of this most celebrated apostrophe. this passage, then, have its reputation: we shall not attempt to add to it; but we call upon our readers, when they feel, by actual experiment, how little this part stands out from the rest, to reflect what must be the tone of the surrounding parts to sustain what, if taken by itself, must be deemed such extravagance and excess.

Let

In adverting to the apparently natural growth of ornament in the Orations of Demosthenes, and pointing it out as a proof of their excellence, we must not omit to notice how different is the conduct of his antagonists and rivals in this particular.-Eschines, whose general good taste is undoubted, in the concluding paragraph of his Oration, after having dwelt upon the laws, the breach of which by Ctesiphon formed the strength of his case (and nothing could be stronger), in the treatment of which subject he had been, of course, plain and simple and didactic, by design, without any previous excitement to justify it, breaks out, all at once, into this exclamation

I then (I call you to witness-ye Earth, and Sun, and Virtue, and Intellect, and Education, by which we distinguish what is honourable) have spoken and given my help; if adequately, and in a manner worthy of the violation of the laws, -as I wished;-if imperfectly, then only as I have been able.”—Εγώ μέν εν, ὦ Γῆ, καὶ Ήλιε, καὶ Αρετή, καὶ Συνέσις, καὶ Παιδέια, ἣ διαγινώσκομεν τα καλα, etc. Who does not perceive, that this sudden appeal to bodies and qualities, which had nothing to do with his particular subject, and hardly with any other, is a mere oratorical flourish? Accordingly, we find that Demosthenes, in his reply upon him, ridicules this matured and misplaced apostrophe, and charges Eschines with considering the controversy between them as an affair of the lungs, and under that idea, bawling and mouthing & Tñ, etc. etc. like a tragedy hero.-The same observations apply, perhaps with more justice,-certainly more frequently, to Cicero's style,-or, rather to passages which, though the admiration of schoolboys, are unquestionably the most faulty, and from which, if he had not redeemed himself by the great body of his Orations, he would never have commanded the extraordinary admiration of more severe judges. In his Oration for Marcellus, in returning thanks to Cæsar for sparing him, and restoring him to his honours, he breaks out," By heavens, the very walls of this Senate-house are impatient to express their gratitude to you, Caius Cæsar," etc.-" Parietes, mediusfidiùs C. Cæsar, ut mihi videtur, hujus Curiæ gratias tibi agere gestiunt," etc.-In one of his Orations against Verres, we have the following animated, and tolerably sustained, but nevertheless rhetorical and professional passage—“Should I paint the horrors of this scene,-not to Roman citizens, not to the allies of our state,-not to those who have ever heard of the Roman name,-not even to men, but to brute-creatures; or, to go further, should I lift up my voice in the most desolate solitude, to the rocks and mountains, yet should I surely see those mute and inanimate parts of nature moved with terror and indignation, at the recital of so enormous an action." Hume's Transl.-" Quod si hæc non ad cives Romanos, non ad aliquos amicos nostræ civitati, non ad eos qui populi Romani nomen audissent; denique si non ad homines, verùm ad bestias; aut etiam, ut longius progrediar, si in aliquâ desertissimâ solitudine ad saxa et ad scopulos hæc conqueri et deplorare vellem, tamen omnia muta atque inanima tantâ et tam indignâ rerum atrocitate commoverentur."-We are aware, that there is all that composition can do to carry this off; and there is excitement also-but the artist shows himself too strongly. But who would have expected from the second orator in the world, in the full possession of his powers, in a passage of no irritation,-a mere literary subject,-in praise of the poets, and his client one of the number, the following puerile declamation?" Rocks and deserts answer to their voice; savage monsters are arrested by their song, and stand still;-shall we, formed as we are by the best instruction, refuse to be moved by the power of song?” Saxa et solitudines voci respondent; bestia sæpe immanes cantu flectuntur atque consistunt;-nos, instituti rebus optimis, poetarum voce non moveamur?"-From these, and innumerable other instances which might be selected, but from which, we repeat, it would be most unjust to form a judgment of Cicero, it is quite manifest, that his art is much more upon the surface; that he is much more ostentatious than Demosthenes; and that, in such instances, sound criticism must often disapprove; as, indeed, we find the immortal orator himself pronouncing sentence, at a more advanced period of his judgment, against some early and fanciful, but highly-wrought pas

66

sages of his own, from their very excess, and because too far removed from the business and bosoms of men,-minùs aptæ rebus agendis.

The next question is,-How is the ascendancy of Demosthenes to be accounted for?-We are aware of the fearful extent of this inquiry, and must confine ourselves within certain limits.-The language, rich as it is, undoubtedly, and copious and powerful,-expressing the varieties of moods, and tenses, and cases by most artificial and elegant inflexions, without the aid of our useful, but untuneful monosyllables,-will, shall, would, could, should, etc,-with the delicacy of compound words, which frequently assign qualifications and degrees to expressions, which, with us, are general and indefinite (to fear, to love, etc. means any quantity of the sensation, and is, of itself, indeterminate)-the peculiarity of the middle voice partaking of the active and passive nature;-this language, we doubt not, is an ingredient in the case, but we think overrated, and too much relied upon in considering this subject.

The true solution of this phenomenon is to be looked for, we believe, in the singular state and condition of Greece, and of Athens more particularly. A republic of independent nations, differing from each other in their particular habits and institutions, but united for purposes of general safety,-burning with the most anxious and jealous desire of surpassing each other;-brought into frequent contact and collision upon set and solemn occasions of Religion-of Games-of Spectacles;-nursed and pampered into the most unbounded and bigotted nationality by the achievements of their ancestors,-a nationality kept alive by Poetry, by Oratory, -by Monuments and Inscriptions;-impressed with an unshaken belief (not very far removed from the truth), that whatever was great and good, and virtuous and splendid, centered in, and was confined to their own territory-such a people were continually goaded and stimulated to exertion by the most intense rivalry and impatient thirst for glory. The very narrowness of their limits, to which, in their firm persuasion, no accession of importance or of value would have been made, if the rest of the world had been added, by facilitating frequent intercourse, served only to condense the spirit. The eager controversy for victory at their games,-the anxiety and interest in the spectators, and the infinite applause which was showered down upon the victors, serve to illustrate the course and tendency of our remarks, of which we purpose only to give our readers a taste, without pursuing them in all their details." Why do you not die, Diagoras," said a spectator at the Olympic Games to the father of two victorious sons,"Why do you not die,-for you cannot become a God?”—“Moriri Diagora, neque enim in cœlum accensurus es. In a nation composed of such materials, and in such a constant strife for eminence and superiority, the Athenians were, unquestionably, the foremost in the race of fame,—and that too of literary fame. We forbear to notice other particulars, which are only, incidentally, to our present purpose, and come at once to the study of Oratory. Not merely from what they have left us, which would justify an inference of their superiority in the art, but from the direct testimony of Demosthenes himself, given in the most unsuspicious and undesigning manner, it appears that such was the contemporary opinion respecting them. When he spoke for the Crown, Greece came and listened to him. This ascendancy we must, of course, attribute not merely to the peculiar aptitude of this most ingenious and lively people for making a proficiency, but to the vigour and earnestness of the pursuit. Eloquence

was the road to honours and distinction; and the competitors for them outstripped each other in proportion to their acquirement and success. Now this we take to be the solution. "Honos alit artes," says Cicero most truly, omnesque incenduntur ad studia glorià;" and the quantity of exertion is sure to be in proportion to the ardency of the love of fame. And as in Greece, generally, and particularly at Athens, the intensity of this glorious passion was, for the reasons we have generally alluded to, greater we believe than it ever was in any other country, it would only be reasonable to expect, and accordingly we are informed, that there were greater exertions made in cultivating public speaking, than there can have been anywhere else,-and this accounts for excellence.-Our readers are aware, that Fielding has proved satisfactorily, in his dry and humorous manner, that an author will write something better, for knowing something of his subject; but we are persuaded that our readers will not require us to make out, by regular deduction, that a man who employs his whole life in one pursuit, is likely to excel another who applies only one-tenth part of the time to it.

If our limits would allow us, we should abstain from entering into particulars of the midnight lamp and labours of Demosthenes. Cicero abounds in them, and Plutarch still more. We will confine ourselves to one slight circumstance. He could not, it seems, pronounce the first letter of his own profession, the r in Rhetor; a letter, by the way, which sticks in the throats of no inconsiderable part of the inhabitants of this empire. How few, we would ask, amongst us, even in the educated classes, who have once been fairly infected with this impediment, have the courage and resolution to conquer a defect,-unpleasant in conversation, but, for any of the higher exertions of elocution, fatal? Yet Demosthenes, we are told, by some means or other (we wish we had an easier receipt than his, for the sake of some of our nearest English neighbours) contrived, by perseverance, to vanquish the difficulty, and to articulate the stubborn guttural most plainly. "Exercitatione fecisse, ut plenissime diceret!" Cicero's exertions were equal. His Life is before us in his works; and from them it appears, that he literally never said, or did, or thought of any thing else but in what manner to improve himself in oratory. The consequence has been, that if the world should last ten times as long as it has done already, we believe he never will be surpassed in mere composition.

When Demosthenes and Cicero concur expressly upon any subject connected with eloquence, he must be a bold man who differs from them. Now the former, in his Oration for the Crown, in the only passage in which he speaks of his own talent, and the latter in his principal Treatise, declares that the audience forms the speaker. With reference to Demosthenes, Cicero observes of the Athenians, "that their judgment was always correct and genuine; so that an orator, who courted their approbation, never durst venture to use a single unauthorized or offensive expression.""Semper oratorum eloquentiæ moderatrix fuit auditorum prudentia." And again, of the Athenians, in the same passage-"Semper fuit prudens sincerumq. judicium, nihil ut possent nisi incorruptum audire et elegans. Eorum religioni cum serviret orator, nullum verbum insolens, nullum odiosum ponere audebat."-Orat.

After this, we will not stop to discuss the qualities of the Athenian Mob, as contrasted with the British Senate, or incur the hazard of a Breach of Privilege, by any opinion we might express ;-but this at least is certain,

VOL. II.

22

that in one most essential particular affecting the very business of a speaker, Demosthenes had a manifest advantage, in possessing an audience perfectly open to persuasion. Whatever may be thought of the wisdom of such a government, it furnished materials most fit for eloquence to work upon. The people, themselves the legislators, if convinced by what they heard, manifested their conviction by instant adoption. The power of the orator was confessed, the effect immediate,-his triumph complete. Now, let us see how the case is in the British House of Commons, which, from the spirit of inquiry amongst our countrymen,-their love of liberty, the parent and nurse of eloquence,-their information, as well as from the freedom of debate, which has obtained there for more than a century—and, above all, from the weighty and interesting subjects of discussion, must be considered the principal theatre for oratory in modern times. In that assembly, then, can any Member, judging from experience and observation, reasonably hope to produce that effect, which Cicero justly considers so honourable and so gratifying" mentes impellere quò velit, unde autem velit, deducere?"-May not the Division usually be predicted before the commencement of the debate?-Are not the opinions of honourable Members securely deposited in their heads, or in their pockets, or in some place of security into which Eloquence cannot penetrate? Is it not a fact, of obvious and indisputable notoriety, that the greatest speakers on both sides of the question (and they cannot both be right) do frequently exhibit their powers without obtaining a single convert-without procuring a single vote? And can the same animation,-the same energy, and, in one word, the same eloquence be expected, where there is no possible chance of producing (that which is the primary object-the obvious use the legitimate end of all speaking)-conviction, and conviction manifested by the overt act of adopting or rejecting the measure which the orator recommends, or from which he dissuades?-If it be said that, as to the effect within doors, this may be true; the speaker may no doubt, in one sense, consider himself, by a sort of reflex operation, as convincing the distant inhabitants of Cumberland or Cornwall.-But so may a writer composing in his closet and surely it cannot be said, (as assuredly it has never yet been supposed,) that such an obscure and remote anticipation of we know not what success, can be compared to the spiritstirring effect-the electrical excitement of a numerous, attentive, and above all, a convertible audience.

In many respects, the Trial by Jury, as practised in this country, seems much better calculated to elicit and encourage this admirable talent. Their integrity-their impartiality-their openness, approaching to facility, to impression, are all strong excitements to exertion, and calculated to lead to success. The nature of the subjects, indeed, which come before them, so generally incapable of ornament, and devoid of interest, and the peculiar study of those who address them, a study which, though Burke says (we know not how truly) it does more to quicken and invigorate the understanding than all other sciences put together, is an enemy to good taste and composition, and often seems to thrive best without them,-these, undoubtedly, are serious objections. Yet we have seen, from the speeches of Lord Erskine, both public and private, and since, from a defence of an alleged libel upon the subject of military punishments by Mr. Brougham, what might be expected if subjects of general interest and discussion could be constantly submitted to a tribunal so impartial and assailable. Upon