Cicero's Brutus, or History of Famous Orators; also His Orator, or Accomplished Speaker

judge's indignation, to appease it, to excite his jealousy, his benevolence, his contempt, his wonder, his abhorrence, his love, his desire, his aversion, his hope, his fear, his joy, and his grief:—in all which variety, you may find examples, in many accusatory speeches, of rousing the harsher passions; and my Defences will furnish instances enough of the methods of working upon the gentler. For there is no method either of alarming or soothing the passions, but what has been attempted by me. I would say I have carried it to perfection, if I either thought so, or was not afraid that (in this case) even truth itself might incur the charge of arrogance. But (as I have before observed) I have been so much transported, not by the force of my genius, but by the real fervor of my heart, that I was unable to restrain myself: —and, indeed, no language will inflame the mind of the hearer, unless the Speaker himself first catches the ardor, and glows with the importance of his subject. I would refer to examples of my own, unless you had seen them already; and to those of other Speakers among the Romans, if I could produce any, or among the Greeks, if I judged it proper. But Crassus will only furnish us with a few, and those not of the forensic kind:— Antonius, Cotta, and Sulpicius with none:—and as to Hortensius, he spoke much better than he wrote. We may, therefore, easily judge how amazing must be the force of a talent, of which we have so few examples:— but if we are resolved to seek for them, we must have recourse to Demosthenes, in whom we find almost a continued succession of them, in that part of his Oration for Ctesiphon, where he enlarges on his own actions, his measures, and his good services to the State, For that Oration, I must own, approaches so near to the primary form or semblance of Eloquence which exists in my mind, that a more complete and exalted pattern is scarcely desirable. But still, there will remain a general model or character, the true nature and excellence of which may be easily collected from the hints I have already offered. We have slightly touched upon the ornaments of language, both in single words, and in words as they stand connected with each other;—in which our Orator will so indulge himself, that not a single expression may escape him, but what is either elegant or weighty. But he will most abound in the metaphor; which, by an aptness of similitude, conveys and transports the mind from object to object, and hurries it backwards and forwards through a pleasing variety of images;—a motion which, in its own nature, (as being full of life and action) can never fail to be highly delightful. As to the other ornaments of language which regard words as they are connected with each other, an Oration will derive much of its lustre from these. They are like the decorations in the Theatre, or the Forum, which not only embellish, but surprize. [Footnote: In the following Abstract of the Figures of Language and Sentiment, I have often paraphrased upon my author, to make him intelligible to the English reader;—a liberty which I have likewise taken in several other places, where I judged it necessary.] For such also is the effect of the various figures or decorations of language;—such as the doubling or repetition of the same word;—the repeating it with a slight variation; —the beginning or concluding several sentences in the same manner, or both at once;—the making a word, which concludes a preceding sentence, to begin the following;—the concluding a sentence with the same expression which began it;—the repeating the same word with a different meaning; —the using several corresponding words in the same case, or with the same termination;—the contrasting opposite expressions;—the using words whose meaning rises in gradation;—the leaving out the conjunctive particles to shew our earnestness;—the passing by, or suddenly dropping a circumstance we were going to mention, and assigning a reason for so doing; —[Footnote: We have an instance of this, considered as a figure of language, in the following line of Virgil; Quos ego—, sed praestat motos componere fluctus. Aeneid. I. Whom I—, but let me still the raging waves. This may likewise serve as an example of the figure which is next mentioned.] the pretending to correct or reprove ourselves, that we may seem to speak without artifice or partiality;—the breaking out into a sudden exclamation, to express our wonder, our abhorrence, or our grief;— and the using the same noun in different cases. But the figures of sentiment are more weighty and powerful; and there are some who place the highest merit of Demosthenes in the frequent use he makes of them. For be his subject what it will, almost all his sentences have a figurative air: and, indeed, a plentiful intermixture of this sort of figures is the very life and soul of a popular Eloquence. But as you are thoroughly acquainted with these, my Brutus, what occasion is there to explain and exemplify them? The bare mention of them will be sufficient.—Our Orator, then, will sometimes exhibit an idea in different points of view, and when he has started a good argument, he will dwell upon it with an honest exultation;—he will extenuate what is unfavourable, and have frequent recourse to raillery;—he will sometimes deviate from his plan, and seem to alter his first purpose:—he will inform his audience beforehand, what are the principal points upon which he intends to rest his cause;—he will collect and point out the force of the arguments he has already discussed; he will check an ardent expression, or boldly reiterate what he has said;—he will close a lively paragraph with some weighty and convincing sentiment;—he will press upon his adversary by repeated interrogations;—he will reason with himself, and answer questions of his own proposing;—he will throw out expressions which he designs to be otherwise understood than they seem to mean;—he will pretend to doubt what is most proper to be said, and in what order;— he will divide an action, &c. into its several parts and circumstances, to render it more striking;—he will pretend to pass over and relinquish a circumstance which might have been urged to advantage;—he will secure himself against the known prejudices of his audience;—he will turn the very circumstance which is alledged against him to the prejudice of his antagonist;—he will frequently appeal to his hearers, and sometimes to his opponent;—he will represent the very language and manners of the persons he is speaking of;—he will introduce irrational and even inanimate beings, as addressing themselves to his audience;—he will (to serve some necessary purpose) steal off their attention from the point in debate;—he will frequently move them to mirth and laughter;—he will answer every thing which he foresees will be objected;—he will compare similar incidents,—refer to past examples,—and by way of amplification assign their distinguishing qualities to opposite characters and circumstances;—he will check an impertinent plea which may interrupt his argument;—he will pretend not to mention what he might have urged to good purpose;—he will caution his hearers against the various artifices and subterfuges which may be employed to deceive them;—he will sometimes appear to speak with an honest, but unguarded freedom;—he will avow his resentment;—he will entreat;—he will earnestly supplicate;—he will apologize;—he will seem for a moment to forget himself;—he will express his hearty good wishes for the deserving, and vent his execrations against notorious villainy;—and now and then he will descend imperceptibly to the most tender and insinuating familiarities. There are likewise Other beauties of composition which he will not fail to pursue;—such as brevity where the subject requires it;—a lively and pathetic description of important occurrences;—a passionate exaggeration of remarkable circumstances;—an earnestness of expression which implies more than is said;—a well-timed variety of humour;—and a happy imitation of different characters and dispositions. Assisted and adorned by such figures as these, which are very numerous, the force of Eloquence will appear in its brightest lustre. But even these, unless they are properly formed and regulated, by a skilful disposition of their constituent words, will never attain the merit we require;—a subject which I shall be obliged to treat of in the sequel, though I am restrained partly by the circumstances already mentioned, but much more so by the following. For I am sensible not only that there are some invidious people, to whom every improvement appears vain and superfluous; but that even those, who are well-wishers to my reputation, may think it beneath the dignity of a man whose public services have been so honourably distinguished by the Senate, and the whole body of the Roman people, to employ my pen so largely upon the art of Speaking. [Footnote: The long apology which our author is now going to make for bestowing his time in composing a treatise of Oratory, is in fact a very artful as well as an elegant digression; to relieve the dryness and intricacy of the abstract he has just given us of the figures of rhetoric, and of the subsequent account of the rules of prosaic harmony. He has also enlivened that account (which is a very long one) in the same manner, by interspersing it, at convenient distances, with fine examples, agreeable companions, and short historical digressions to elucidate the subject.] If, however, I was to return no other answer to the latter, but that I was unwilling to deny any thing to the request of Brutus, the apology must be unexceptionable; because I am only aiming at the satisfaction of an intimate friend, and a worthy man, who desires nothing of me but what is just and honourable. But was I even to profess (what I wish I was capable of) that I mean to give the necessary precepts, and point out the road to Eloquence to those who are desirous to qualify themselves for the Forum, what man of sense could blame me for it? For who ever doubted that in the decision of political matters, and in time of peace, Eloquence has always borne the sway in the Roman state, while Jurisprudence has possessed only the second post of honour? For whereas the former is a constant source of authority and reputation, and enables us to defend ourselves and our friends in the most effectual manner;—the other only furnishes us with formal rules for indictments, pleas, protests, &c. in conducting which she is frequently obliged to sue for the assistance of Eloquence;—but if the latter condescends to oppose her, she is scarcely able to maintain her ground, and defend her own territories. If therefore to teach the Civil Law has always been reckoned a very honourable employment, and the houses of the most eminent men of that profession, have been crowded with disciples; who can be reasonably censured for exciting our youth to the study of Eloquence, and furnishing them with all the assistance in his power? If it is a fault to speak gracefully, let Eloquence be for ever banished from the state. But if, on the contrary, it reflects an honour, not only upon the man who possesses it, but upon the country which gave him birth, how can it be a disgrace to learn, what it is so glorious to know? Or why should it not be a credit to teach what it is the highest honour to have learned? But, in one case, they will tell me, the practice has been sanctified by custom, and in the other it has not. This I