LVII. " In everything, without doubt, truth has the ad- vantage over imitation; and if truth were efficient enough in delivery of itself, we should certainly have no need for the aid of art. But as that emotion of mind, which ought to be chiefly expressed or imitated in dehvery, is often so confosed as to be obscured and almost overwhelmed, the peculioritiea which throw that veil over it are to be set aside, and such ss are eminent and conapicuoua to be selected. For every emo- tion of the mind has irom nature its owu peculiar look, tone, and gesture; and the whole Irame of a man, and his whole countenauce, andthe variations of his voice, sound' like strings in a musical inBtrument, just as they are moved by the affec- tious of the mind. For the tones of the voice, like musioal chords, are so wound up as to be responsive to every touch, sharp, flat, quick, slow, loud, gentle; and yet, among all these, each in its kind has its own middle tone. From tbese tones, too, are derived many other sorts, as the rough, the smooth, the contracted, the broad, the protracted, and iuCemipted; ' Smanf. Ah thia word doea not properly apply to <imllv». the coun- tenance, Schuta would maka aome olteration in the text. But MUlioT ■od others oheene that auch a ztagvia U u ON THE BHAKiCTER OP THE ORATOR, 397 i brokeu and divided, the attenuated and inilated, with ieties of modulation; for ttere is none of these, or those bat reaemblQ them, which may not be influenced by art and management; and they are presented to the orator, as colours to the painter, to produoe variety.
LVIII. " Anger, for instance, assumea a particular tone of voice, acute, vehement, and with frequent breaks: My itniiioua brotter drives me on, ah wrotcliBd! To teftr my children with my teetli! ' and in those lines which you, Antonius, cited awhile ago:^ Haye you, then, dared to Beporate him from you! _ Does any one peroeiva tiiie? Bind him and almost the whole tragedy of Atreua. But lamentation imd bewailing assumea another tone, flexible, full, interrupted, iu a voice of sorrow: as, Whither shall I now turn myeelf? what roaS ShftU I attempt to tread? Home to my father.
Or go to Peliaa' daughters? ' and this, 0 fcther, 0 my country, Hdusb of Priam 1 Rad that which follows.
and, Fear has another tone, desponding, hesitating, a jropaas'd ruuad!
Ject: In many ways am By bickneaa, csile All judgment froi One threats my Ufa with torture and destruction.
And no mun has so firm a soul, auoh boldness.
But that his blood sbrinks backward, and his look Grows pale with timid fear. ' Violence has another tone, strained, Tehemant, impetuous, with a kind of forcible excitement: nbot ' From the Medea of Eoniua.
' From the Andromache of Eoniiu ft.Jiom the AlemiBon of Enniua, See Tuso. Qu3»t. i 3t>; iii. IB.
Agun Thjeetea oomea to dmg on Atraui; Again nttaoka me, ajid disturbB my quiet: Some Ereater storm, some greater iH by me Mnnt be escited, tlmt I may coBfonntl And crush his eruel Ireoit.'
UDCoustrained, mild, tender, cheerful, But when she broagbb for me tbo Erovm design'd To ealebrate the nuptLiIa, 'twas to thae She ofier'd it, pretendiug tb^b ahe gave it To grace another; then on thee aho placed it Sporttre, and gracetiiJ, and with lielicacy.^ Trouble haa anotber tone; a sort of gravity without lamca tionj oppressed, as it were, witii one heavy unifona som 'Twaa at the time when Paris wedded Helen In lawLeas nnptiale, and when I waa preguanCf My montha being nearly ended for delivsry, Then, at that Tory time, did Hecuba Bring forth her latest offiipring, Polydore.
LIX. " On all these emotiona a proper gesture ougiff attend; not the gesture of the stage, espreeaiTe of mere words, but one showing the whole force and meaning of a paa8age,not by gesticulation, but by emphatic deUvery, by a strong and manly exertion of the lungs, not imitated ihim the theatre and the players, b'nt rather from the camp and the paltGstra. The action of the hand should not be too affected,^ but following the words rather than, as it were, expressing them by mimicry; the arm should be conaiderably ' extended, as one of the weapons of oratory; the stamping of the foot should be used only in the most vehement efforts, at their commencement or ccnclumon. But all depends on the countenance; and eTen in that the eyes bear sovereign Bway; and therefore the oldest of our countrymen, showed the more judgment in not applauding even Eoscius himself to any great degree when ho performed in a mask; for all the powers of actioa proceed from the mind, and the coimtenoace is the image of ttio mind, and the eyes are its in-terpreters.
This, indeed, ia the only psJt of the body that can effectually ' From the Atreus of AcciuB. See Tusc. QuEcet. iii 36; De SA Door. iii. SO. ' ' Whence this and the nesit quotation are taken is naknowii.
• Argnta- Argvtia di^arwni,. Ocat, o. 18. Manma inter ajnrnAMn nrgttta admodum et ptBdtojre, Ani. GelL i. 6.
3 CHAEACTEH OF THE 0E4T0B. 399 dasplay as infinite a number of aignificationa and cbangBB, aa there is of emotiona in tiie bouI; nor can aay speaker pro- duce tlie same effect with his eyes shut/ as with them open. TheophraatiiB indeed ha:S told us, that a certain Tauriscua BBed to say, that a player who pronounced hia part gazing on any particular object was hke one who turned hia back on the audience." Great care in man^ng the eyes ia there- fore necessary; for the appearance of the features is not to be too much varied, lest we fall into some absurdity or dis- tortion. It is the eyes, by whose intense or languid gaze, as well aa by their quick glances and gaiety, we indicate the working of our mind with a peculiar aptitude to the tenor of our diacourae; for action is, aa it were, the speech of the body, and ought therefore the more to accord \rith that of the souL And Nature has given eyes to ua, to declare OUT internal emotions, aa she has bestowed a mane, tail, aud ears on the horse aad the lion. For these reasons, in our oratorieal action, the countenance is next in power to tho voice, and is inSueuced by the motion of the eyes. But in everything appertaining to action there is a certain force bestowed by Nature herself; and it ia by action accordingly that the iUiterate, the vulgar, and even barbarians themselves, are principally moved. For words move none but those who are associated in a participation of the same language; and sensible thoughts often escape the understandings of senseless men; bnt action, which by its own powers displays tho movements of tho soul, affects aJl mankind; for the minds of all men are excited by the aame emotions, which they recognise in otheis, and indicate in themselves, by the same tokens.
LS. " To effectiveness and escellence in delivery the voice doubtless contributes most; the voice, I say, which, in its fill! strength, must he the chief object of our wishes; and nest, whatever strength of voice we have, to cherish it. On this point, how we are to assist the voice has nothing to do with precepts of this kind, tbougb, for my part, I think that ve should assist it to the utmost. But it seems not un- ' I follow EUendt in rending mnmiBen^ matoad of confueni, tlio com- mon reailiiig, which Orelliiu retiuns.
' A rersma, " Qui Btetv aversus h thentro, et speotatoribos terguia olivertat." Sehatz. Of TauriscnB uotliing ia known.
1 I HE OBATORE J OR, [s. QL suitable to the purport of my present remarka, to observe, u I obKerred a Itttlo while ago, 'that iu most, thiogs vhat is most useful is, I know not how, the most becoming;' for nothing is more useful for securiug power of ■voice, than the frequent variation of it; nothing more pernicious than au immoderate stminiug of it without intermission. And what la more adapted to delight the ear, and produce agreoableneaa of delivery, than change, variety, and alteration of tonel Caius Gracchus, accordingly, (as you may hear, Catiilos, from your client Liciniua, a man of letters, whom Gracohiu formerly had for his amanuensis,) used to have a skilfiil peraon with an ivoiy pitch-pipe, to stand concealed behind I him when he made a speech, and who was in an instant te | sound such a note as night either excite him from too languid a tone, or recal him from one too elevated." "I Lave heard this before," said Catuliw, " and have often admired the diligence of that great man, as well as his learajag and knowledge" "And I, too," said Crassua; "and am grieved that men of such talents should fall into such miscarriages with regard to the commonwealth; although the same web is still being woven;^ and such a state of manners is advancing in the country, and held out to posterity, that we now desire to have citizens such as our £itha would not tolerate." " Forbear, Crassus, I entreat you," in terposed CsBsar, "from this sort of conversation, and go bad to Gracchus's pitch-pipe, of which I do not yet clearly undef- Btaud the object."
LXI. "There is in every voice," continued Crassua, "a certain middle key; but in each particular voice that key is peculiar. For the voice t« ascend gradually from this key is advantageous and pleasing; Bioee to bawl at the beginning of a speech is boorish, and gradation ia salutary in streaglh- ening the voice. There ia also a certain extreme in tiie highest pitch, (which, however, is lower than the shrillest c to which the pipe will cot allow you to ascend, but will n you from too strained an effort of voice. There is the other hand, an eitreme in the lowest notes, to w being of a full sound, we by degrees descend. This v and this gradual progression of the voice throughout a notes, will preserve its powers, and add agrcei itato of the republic st thai 'time, see i Githn^ obad^ OS 3?BE CaARACTZB OF THE ORATOR.
very. Bilt you *ill leaVe the piper at home, and carry -with you into the forum merely the intention of the custom.
" I have said what I could, though not as I wished, but oh the shortness of the tima obliged mej for it is wise to lay ths blame upon tha time, when you camiot add more even if you desired." "But," said Catulus, "you have, aa far aa I can judge, brought together everything upon the subject, and that in so eicellent a manner, that yon seem not to have received instructions in the art from the Greeks, but to be able to instruct the Greeks themselves. I rejoice that I have been present at your conversation; and could vish that my BOu-in-iaw, your iriend HortonaiuB,^ had also been present i who, I trust, will excel in all those good qualities of which you have treated in this dissertation." " Will eicel!" esclaimed Crassus; "I consider that he already escels. I had that opinion of him wheQ he pleaded, in my consulship, the cause of Africa^ in the senate; and I found tnyself still oaore con- firmed in it lately, when he spoke for the king of Eithynia. You judge rightly, therefore, Catulus; for I am convinced that nothing is wanting to that young man, on the part either of nature or of learning. You, therefore, Cotta, and you, Sulpicius, must osert the greater vigilance and industry; for ho is no ordinary orator, who is springing up to rival those of your age; hut one of a penetrating genius, and an ardent attachment to study, of eminent learning, and of singular powers of memory; but, though he is a favourite of mine, I only wish him to excel those of his own standing; for to desire that he, who is so much younger,' should outstrip you, is -hardly fair. But let iia now arise, and refresh our- selves, and at length rehcvo our minds and attention from this fatiguing discussion."
' The orator afterwnr3a eo famous.
' He pleftded this cauae, obaervBti Ellendt, et, the age of iiineteon; but the nature of it, hs well as that of the king of Blthfoia, is un- known.
' He was ten jenrs younger than Cotta and Sulpiciua, Brut. o. 88.
"BE 0R4T0KB.
BEUTTJS; REMAEKS ON EMINENT ORATORS.
Thw treatise naa tiie fruit of Cicero's rBtirement, during the ri of tha civil war in Africa, nud ivaa composod ia the form of ■ dudofpte- It contains a. few short, hut very mafterljr sketches oS iU tlia speakers who had flouHfihed either iix Greece or Rome, witk SUJ repntation of eloqusnce, down to his own time; ant' touches the prianipal inuideata of their lives, it wil ta- au aWflntave reader, aa a aonceaSed rpiiooic 0/ the BoiruM k _ The conference ia snpposed to have been held with Atticiu, and H common friend Bratus, in Cicero's gBrden at Rome, under Che at of Plato, whom he alwajs admired, and usnaUj izuitatad ii Dialogues.
I. When I liad left Cilicia, nnd airivied at Rhodes, word wu brought me of the death of llortensiits. I vraa more tifTacted with it than, I beheve, was generally expected; for. by the loss of my friend, I Eaiv myself for ever depriTed of tie pleasure of his acquaiutance, nnd of onr mutual intercoona of good offices. I likewise reflected, with concern, that tba dignity of our college must suffer greatly by the dec such on eminent augur. This reminded me that h£ vi person who firet introduced me to the eoUege, wbero'l attested my qualification upon oath, and that it mis he a who installed me as a member; go thai: I was bound by d constitution of the order to respect and honour him as a parent. My afSiction was increased, that, in such a deplorable dearth of wise and virtuous citizens, this esceUent man, my foithflil asso<Mat« in the service of the public, expired at the very time when the commonwealth could least spare bini, and when we had the greatest reason to regret the want of his prudence and authority. I can add, very sincerely, that in Aim I lamented the loss, not (as most people imagined) of a dangerous rival who opposed my reputation, but of associate who engaged with me in the pursuit of &me. il wt) have instances in history, though in studies of 1 anportance, that Bome distinguishwl poets have been greatly afflicted nt the death of their contemporaiy bards, with what tcudcr concern should I honour the memory of a. man with whom it ia more glorioua to have disputed the prize of eloquence, than never to have combated as an antogonist, especiaUy as he was always bo far from obstruotiog my endea- vours, or I hi», that, on the contrary, we mutually agisted each other with our credit and advice! But as lie, who had a perpetual run of felicity,"^ left the world at a happy moment for himself, though a most unfortunate one for hia fellow- citizens, — and died when it would have been much easier for Inm to lament the miseries of his country than to aanst it, after living in it as long as he could liave lived with honour and reputation, — we may, indeed, deplore his death as a heavy loss to vs who survive him. If, however, we consider it merely as a personal event, we ought rather to congra- tulate his &te than to pity it; that, as often as we revive the memory of this illustrious and truly happy man, we may appear at least to have as much afibctioit for him as for our- Hclv^ For if we only lament that we are no longer permitted to enjoy him, it must, indeed, be acknowledged that this is a, heavy misfortune to 'as; which it however becomes ub to support with moderatian, lest our sorrow should be soapected to arise from motives of interest, and not from friendship. But if we nffliot ourselves, on the supposition that he was the eufforer, we misooustrue an event, which to Aim was certainly a very happy one.
11. If Hortensius were now living, he would probably regret many other advantages in common with his worthy fellow- citizens. But when he beheld the forum, the great theatre in which he used to esorcise his genius, no longer accessible to that accomplished eloquence which could charm the ears of a Koman or a Grecian audience, ho must have felt a pang of which none, or at least but few, besides himself could he susceptible. Even /indulge heartfeitangmsh, when I behold my country no longer supported, by the talents, the wisdom, and the authority of law, — the only weapons which I have > Quoniam perpetttd piddiim fdicitatt unu iUt^ces^ i vitd, guo iitagU jjttom laaran chnain tempotv. This &ae aentinient, conveyed in BUEh elegant langosge, camei sn nlluairai to the convereatioa of Solon wiUi CrcesuB, in ^hich the former maiotaiaed the seeming paradox, that he alone can be deemed happy who meets a huppy death. See Herod. Clio, 3S.
I I BIlDTUa; OB, learned to wield, and to which I have long been accuBtomed, and which are most suitable to the character of an illustiious citizen, and of a virtuous and well-regulated state. But if there ever was a time when the authority and eloquence of au honest individual could have wrested their arms from the hands of bia distracted fellow-citizens, it was then when the proposal of a compromias: of our mutual dificrencea was rejected, by the hasty imprudence of some and the timorous mistrust of others. Thus it happened, among other mis- fortunes of a m.ore deplorable nature, that when my declining age, after a life spent in the service of the public, should have reposed in the peaceful harbour, not of an indolent and total inactivity, but of a modetute and honourable retirement, and when my oloqueuce was properly mellowed and had acquired its full maturity; — thus it happened, I say, that recourse was then bad to those fatal arms, which the persons who had learned the use of them in honourable conquest could no longer employ to any salutary purpose. Those, therefore, appear to mo to have enjoyed a fortunate and happy life, (of whatever state they were members, but especially in oan) who, together with their authority and reputation, either for their military or political services, are allowed to enjoy the advantages of philosophy; and the sole remembrance of them, in our present melancholy situation, was a pleasing relief to me, when we lately happened to mentiou thorn in the course of conversation.
III. For, not long ngo, when I was walking for raj amuM- ment in a private avenue at home, I was agreeably interrupted by my friend Brutus and Titus Pomponius, who came, as indeed they freijuently did, to visit me, — two worthy citizens, who were united to each other in the closest friendship, and were so dear ar.d so agreeable to me, that on the first sight of them, all my anxiety for the commonwealth subsided. After the usual salutations, " Well, gentlemen," said I, " how go the times? What news have you broughtl" " None," replied Brutus, " that you would wish to bear, or that I can venture to tell you for truth." " No," said Atticus; " we are come with an intention that oil matters of state should be dropped, and rather to hear something from you, than to say anything which might serve to distreas you." " Indeed," said I, "your company is a present remedy for my sorrow; and your lettem,, when absent, were so encouraging, that they first revirt"" BEUARES OR EUIKEKT ORATORS.
toy attention to my Btudiea." " I rernember," replied Attious, " that Brutus Bent you & letter from Asia, which I read ■witii infinite pleasure; for he advised you in it lite a man of seaBe, and gave you every oonsolatiou which the wannest friendship could BHggest." "True," said I; "for it was the receipt of that letter which recovered me from a growing iudisposition, to behold once more the cheerful lace of day^ and as the Boman state, after the dreadful defeat near Cannte, first raised ita drooping head by the victory of Marcellus at Nola, which was succeeded by many other victories, so, after the dismal wreck of our afiiurs, both public aad private, nothing occurred ■ to me, before the letter of my fiiend Brutus, which I thought to be worth lay attention, or which contributed, in any degree, to ease the ansiety of my heart." " That was certainly my intention)" answered Brutus; " and if I had the happiness to succeed, I was sufficiently rewarded for my trouble. But I could wish to be informed what you received fi-om Attious, which gave you such uncommon pleasure." " That," said I, " which not only entertained me, but I hope has restored me entirely to myself" " Indeed!" replied be; "and what mi- raculous composition could that be t " " Nothing," answered I, " could have been a more acceptable or a more seasonable present than that excellent treatise of his, which roused me from a state of languor and despondency." " You mean,' eaid he, " his short and, I think, very accurate abridgement of universal history." " The very same," said I; " for that little treatise has absolutely saved me."
IV. " I am heartily glad of it," said Attious; " but what could you discover in it which was either new to you or so won- derfully beneficial a& you pretend 1" " It certainly fijmished many hints," BaLd I, " which were entirely new to me; and the exact order of time which you observed through the whole, gave me the opportunity I had long wished for, of beholding the history of all nations in one regular and com- prehensive view. The attentive perusal of it proved aa esoel- leat remedy for my sorrows, and led me to think of attempt- ing something on your own plan, partly to amuse myself, and partly to return your fevour by a grateful, though not an equal, acknowledgment. We are commanded, it is true, iu tlmt precept of Heaiod, bo much admired by the learned, to return with the same measure we have received, or, if possible, with a lai^er. As to a friendly inclination, I shall certainly retum jou a full proportion of it; but as to a recompense in kind, I'coafera it to be out of my power, and therefore hop« you will excuse me; for I have not, as busbandmeQ are accuBtomed to have, gathered a, fre^ harvest out of which to repay the kindness^ I havoreaoived; my whole harvest having sickened and died, for want of the usual manure; and as little am I able to present you with anything from those hidden stores which are now conagned to perpetual darkness, and to which I am denied all acceaa, though formerlj- 1 was almost the only person who was able to command them at pleaaure, I must, therefore, try my skill in a long-neglected and uncultivated soil; which I will endcavoiu* to improve with so much eare,"that I may be able to repay your liberality nith interest; provided my genius should be so happy as to resemble a fertile iield, which, after being sui&red to lie tallow a considerable time, produces a heavier crop than usual."
" Very well," replied Atticns, " I shall expect the fulfilment of your promise; but I shall not insist upon it till it suits your oonvenieucc, though, after all, I «hall certainly be better pleased if you discharge the obligation." "And I also," said Brutus, '■ slmll eipect that you perform your promise to mj friend Atticus; nay, thou^ I am only his voluntary solicitor, I BhoU, perhaps, be very pressing for the discharge of a debt which the creditor himself is willing to submit to your own choice." V. " Eat T shall refuse to pay you," said I, " unless the original creditor takes no ftuther port in the suit." " Tliis is more tlian I can promise," replied he; " for I can easily fore- see that this easy man, who djsolaims all severity, will urge his demand upon you, not indeed to distress you, but yet with earuestnesa and importunity." " T9 speak ingenuously," said Atticus, " my friend Brutus, I believe, is not much mis- taken; for as I now find you in good spirits for the first time, alter a tedious interval of despondency, I shall soon make bold to apply to you; and as this gentleman has promised his asMstance to recover what you owe me, the least I can do is to solicit, in my turn, for what is due to him." " Explain your meaning," said I. " I mean," replied he, " that you must write something to amuse us; for your pen has been ' If on mint ex tw™, «( agrimla lolent, fraelUnu til, imde t»6i reddatl nod aevepi. The alluMon is to a farmer, who, in Wme of neoeasi^. liotTowa com or fruit ot hia more opulent neiglibour, wbioii ho repays in kind us soon as hia harvast is, gathered borne. Cicero wna not, he ajB, in tt eituatiou to moko a aimilar ON EHESEST ORAToriS. i07 totally Bilent this long time; and since your treatise on politics, wo have had nothing frora you of any kind, though it was the peniaal of that which fired me with the ambition to write an ahridgement of universal hiatory. But wo shall, however, leave yon to answer tbis demand when and ia what manner you shall think most convenient. At present, if you arc not otherwise enga^, you mizBt give us your sentiments on a subject on which we both desire to be better informed." "And what is that?" said I. "A work which you had juat begun," replied he, " when I saw you last at Tusculanum, — the Hiatory of Eminent Orators, — when they made their ap- pearance, and who and what they were; which famished such an ngreeahle train of conversation, that when I related the substance of it to yowr, or I ought rather to have said our eommon, friend Brutus, he expressed an ardent deaire to hear the whoie of it from your own mouth. Knowing you, there- fore, to be at leisure, we have taken the present opportunity to wait upon you; so that, if it is really convenient, you will oblige ns both by resuming the subject." " Well, gentlemen," said I, " as you are so pressing, I will endeavoiu' to satisfy yon in the best manner I am able." " You are able enough,"