cienzeda

whilft it enlightened them; fo that, if Truth herself had assumed a iere to buman voice and form, she could have used no other language. ats. 'l; Demosthenes and Isæus, without having any thing forced or unna

tural in their productions, took more pains than Lyfias in preparing the minds of the judges ; in relating the facts which gave birth to

the litigation ; in dividing the parts of their address to the court; in ?'5, 100

marshalling their evidence; in disposing and enforcing their obser

vations ; in digrefling without deviation ; in returning to the subGp wie ject without abruptness; in amplifying; in aggravating ; in exteHe paie nuating; and, as Dionysius says particularly of Isæus, in attacking cca di their adversaries, laying close fiege to the understandings, and storm

ing the passions, of the jury; not omitting any thing that might

tend to secure the fruit of all forensic labours, a verdict or judgment y peroxid

for their clients : for this purpose, if the cause was weak, no insie

nuation, no address, no contrivance, was neglected by Ifæus in oro megelas iben a

der to support it; but, when he happened to have justice on his

fide, his method seems to have been admirable. His manner of prefien,

opening was various, according to the great variety of causes in which he was employed; sometimes he told his atory in a natural cr.

der, with conciseness and fimplicity, without preparation, without e grace:

ornament, without any mixture of argumentation ; sometimes he divided a long narration into several heads, proving each of them, as he went along; a method, of which he seems to have been fond, and which could not but conduce to the perspicuity of his speeches : in all cases he made frequent use of that oratorial fyllogism, which lo. gicians call epichirema, where the premises are respectively proved by

argument or evidence before the speaker draws his conclufion; while were the entbymema, in which one proposition is fuppreffed, appears to have perus been more agreeable to the manner of Lyfias; and Dionysius, in- .

deed, mentions this as a strong mark of discrimination besween the

two advocates. His other modes of arguing, his anticipations, reen to capitulations, digressions, inversions, variations, transitions, were

all happily and seasonably applied in conformity to the disposicion of icover his judges, and the nature of each particular case.' hor,

We cannot take leave of the present work without laying im before our Readers Mr. Jones's examination of an opinion ad

vanced by Cicero, which he combats with great fpirit and ingenuity.' It will probably be thought not less interesting for being interspersed with some strictures on the nature and kinds of modern oratory. This opinion of Cicero is intimated in all his rhetorical pieces, and expressed very fully in that little frag

ment which seems to have been part of a preface to his transla. Lition of Demofthenes and Æschines for and against Ctefipho,

but the authenticity of which is doubted by Manutius. It begins with an assertion, that there are no diftinét species of oratory as there are of poetry ; that although a tragic, an epic, and a lyric poet may be all equally perfect in their several ways, yet that no man can justly be called a speaker unless he unite in the highest degree the powers of instructing, delighting, and moving every audience on every subject.'. Mr. Jones obferves,

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such as

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Rev. June, 1779.

• that a character fo various, and a genius fo comprehensive

, mufe neceffarily be the object, if ever it should exift, of general admiration; but why it is not sufficient to call such a man the greatefl

, without infisting that he is the only, orator, or why an advocate

, who never applied' his talents to the senatorial species of eloquence, may not attain perfection in the forensic, and fo conversely, I am at a loss to comprehend. Menander, you say, would not have desired to be like Homer; certainly not in his comedies ; but every Speaker wishes to resemble Demofthenes ; as certainly not; when he is addressing the jury on the obftru&ion of ancient lights or the diversion of a watercourse. The kinds of speaking are different; and, though one of them bę more exalted than another, yet orators, as well as poets, may in those different kinds severally reach the summit; and this analogy may be extended to all the fine arts: Myro was not a less perfect sculptor in marble, because he was unable probably to finish gems with the delicacy of Trypho; nor, to (peak of modern artifs, will Rafaelle ever be degraded from his high rank among painters, because he might not have been able to draw Cupids and Nymphs with the minute elegance of Albani; in the same manner as De. mosthenes will always be allowed to have hurled the thunder of Grecian eloquence, although he could not perhaps (whatever Tally may suggest to the contrary) have spoken with the imple graces of Lyfias. Philosophers may refine, and logicians may difinguilh, as learnedly and subtilely as they pleale; it will, after all

, be true, that the eloquence of a fenator is of a species wholly different from the eloquence of an advocate ; that the two kinds ought never to be confounded ; and that a complete speaker before a jury or a single judge may ftrain his throat without effect in a popular affembly. If Cicero

, indeed, meaned no more than that the title of orator should be given only to one, who, like himself, excels all men in every way

,

the argument is reduced to a mere dispute about words, which every writer may apply as he thinks proper, provided he apprize his reader of the new fense in which he means to use them; but, furely, he might have afferted, with equal propriety, that he alone, who surpaffes the rest of mankind in every fort of poetry, deserves the appellation of a poet; for nothing can be more exact, than the analogy between the two arts, and their near alliance is often acknowledged by the great man himself, with whose opinions I'am taking so much liberty: had he said that by the word orator he meaned a speaker, who had cultivated every branch of his art, the Romans might have thought this an innovation in their language, but they would, pero haps, have adopted the definition on his authority. We are not how: ever contending about the proper application of terms, or the abstract idea of universal genius : the single question is, Whether there are not distinct species of oratory as there are of poetry, and whether a man may not be perfect in any one or more of them, without have ing directed his talents to the cultivation of the reft; for the decision of which point, I appeal to such of my readers as have heard ten speeches at our English bar, and as many in either house of parlia. ment. They will forgive me for having applied, and for fill apply. ing, the word orator to ISÆUS, although his eloquence was wholly forenfic; and I confer this title on him with more confidence, because

there is reason to believe, that he sometimes delivered his own Speeches, without confining himself entirely to the difficult, but less noble, tak of composing for others; for. I must confess, that I can form no idea of an orator without elocution and action, nor can the praise of eloquence be joftly, or even without a solecism, bestowed on mere invention and composition, which constitute indeed the body of oratory, but speech and gesture alone can give it a foul. Whether the remaining works of my author will justify the criticism of Dionyfius and Hermogenes, or whether my interpretation of them may not have weakened their original force, must be left to the impartial judgment of the reader ; but this advantage will naturally result from my present publication : if the following speeches hould be thought manly, nervous, acute, pertinent, and better in most respects than the generality of addresses to an English jury on similar subjects, we shall have a kind of model, by which the student may form himfelf, allowing for the difference of Athenian laws and manners; and, if they should appear inferior in all those qualities to the speeches ulually delivered by our leading advocates, we shall have reason to congratulate our age and country, and to triumph in the superiority of our talents; for our leaders often make the ablest and moft fpirited replies without a poffibility of premeditation; and wonderful, indeed, must be the parts and eloquence of those, whose unprepared effufions equal or surpass the studied compofitions of the ancient orators.'

Art. IX. Poetical Trifles. By

Small 8vo. I s. 6 d. Bath printed ; fold by Dodsley, &c. in London. 1778. O trifle agreeably is not so easy as may commonly be ima

gined. It requires a degree of parts and accomplishments that falls not to the share of every one. The vivacity and elegance which are displayed in the little volume before us, prove its Author to have an indisputable claim to both. In the ease and pleasantry of his versification he bears no small reseinblance to Prior, whom, in more instances than one, he seems to have taken for his model, and it is but justice to say, they are fuch as would no way difgrace that exquisite original. Among other sprightly fallies of his Mufe, take the following ballad :

R A CES.
O George, I've been, I'll tell you where,

But first prepare yourself for raptures ;
To paint this charming, heavenly fair,

And paint her well, would ask whole chapters.
Fine creatures I've view'd many a one,

With lovely shapes, and angel faces,
But I have seen them all out done

By this sweet Maid, at Races,
Lords, Commoners, alike the rules,

Takes all who view hér by surprise,
Makes e'en the wisest look like fools,
Nay more, makes fox-hunters look wise.
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Her

Her shape-'tis elegance and ease,

Unspoild by art, or modern dress,
But gently tapering by degrees,

And finely, “ beautifully less."
Her foot-it was so wonderous small,

So thin, so round, so sim, so neat,
The buckle fairly hid it all,

And seem'd to fink it with the weight.
And just above the spangled shoe,

Where many an eye did often glance,
Sweetly retiring from the view,

And seen by stealth, and seen by chance ;
Two slender ankles peeping out,

Stood like Love's heralds, to declare
That all within the petticoat

Was firm, and full, " and round, and fair."
And then she dances-better far

Than heart can think, or tongue can tell,
Not Heinel, Banti, or Guimar,

E’er mov'd so graceful *, and so well.
So easy glide her beauteous limbs,

True as the echo to the found,
She seems, as through the dance she skims,

To tread on air, and scorn the ground,
And there is lightning in her eye,

One glance alone might well inspire
The clay cold breast of Apathy,

Or bid the frozen heart catch fire.
And Zephyr on her lovely lips

Has spread his choiceft, fweetest roses,
And there his heavenly nectar fips,

And there in breathing fweets reposes.
And there's such music when she speaks,

You may believe me, when I tell ye,
I'd rather hear her, than the squeaks

Or far-fam'd squalls of Gabrielli.
And sparkling wit, and steady sense,

In that fair form with beauty vie,
But ting'd with virgin diffidence,

And the soft bluth of modesty.
Had I the treasures of the world,

All the sun views, or the seas borrow,
(Else may I to the devil be hurld)

I'd lay them at her feet to-morrow.
But as we Bards reap only Bays,

Nor much of that, though nought grows on it,
I'll beat my brains to found her praise,

And hammer them into a Sonnet. * Grammaticè gracefully.

And

And if the deign one charming smile,

The blest reward of all my labours,
I'll never grudge my pains, or toil,

But pity the dull 'Squires, my neighbours.
This piece is followed by one of inferior merit. . Gray's ce-
lebrated Elegy has given birth to more parodies than perhaps
any other poem in the English language. Of these, the Elegy
written in a College Library, which makes a part of the present
collection, is not the most happy. The following little piece
of eight lines is worth the whole of it :

L'AMOUR TIM ID E.

To
If in that breast, so good, so pure,

Compassion ever lov'd to dwell,
Picy the sorrows I endure,

The cause-I must not dare not tell.
The grief that on my quiet preys-

That rends my heart—that checks my tongue
I fear will last me all my days,

But feel it will not last me long.
All the pieces of this collection are not of the fame cast with
those already taken notice of: there are others in various styles,
and of different merit. The sober elegiac Muse has been cul-
tivated, and not unsuccessfully, particularly in

THE D E B T O R.
Children of afluence, hear a poor man's pray'r!

O halte, and free me from this dungeon's gloom ;
Let not the hand of comfortless despair

Sink my grey hairs with sorrow to the tomb !
Unus'd compassion's tribute to demand,

With clamorous din wake Charity's dull ear,
Wring the flow aid from Pity's loitering hand,

Weave the feign'd tale, or drop the ready tear.
Far different thoughts employ'd my early hours,

To views of bliss, to scenes of afuence born;
The hand of pleasure ftrewed my path with flow'rs,

And every blessing haild my youthful morn.
But ah, how quick the change! the morning gleam,

That cheer'd my fancy with her magic ray,
Fled like the gairish pageant of a dream,

And sorrow clos'd the evening of my day.
Such is the lot of human bliss below;

Fond hope a-while the trembling flow'ret rears;
Till unforeseen descends the blight of woe,

And withers in an hour the pride of years.
In evil hour, to {pecious wiles a prey,

I trusted :-(who from faults is always free?)
And the short progress of one fatal day
Was all the space 'twixt wealth and poverty.

Where

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