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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,
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.
But first prepare yourself for raptures ;
And paint her well, would ask whole chapters.
With lovely shapes, and angel faces,
By this sweet Maid, at Races,
Takes all who view hér by surprise,
Her shape-'tis elegance and ease,
Unspoild by art, or modern dress,
And finely, “ beautifully less."
So thin, so round, so sim, so neat,
And seem'd to fink it with the weight.
Where many an eye did often glance,
And seen by stealth, and seen by chance ;
Stood like Love's heralds, to declare
Was firm, and full, " and round, and fair."
Than heart can think, or tongue can tell,
E’er mov'd so graceful *, and so well.
True as the echo to the found,
To tread on air, and scorn the ground,
One glance alone might well inspire
Or bid the frozen heart catch fire.
Has spread his choiceft, fweetest roses,
And there in breathing fweets reposes.
You may believe me, when I tell ye,
Or far-fam'd squalls of Gabrielli.
In that fair form with beauty vie,
And the soft bluth of modesty.
All the sun views, or the seas borrow,
I'd lay them at her feet to-morrow.
Nor much of that, though nought grows on it,
And hammer them into a Sonnet. * Grammaticè gracefully.
And if the deign one charming smile,
The blest reward of all my labours,
But pity the dull 'Squires, my neighbours.
L'AMOUR TIM ID E.
Compassion ever lov'd to dwell,
The cause-I must not dare not tell.
That rends my heart—that checks my tongue
But feel it will not last me long.
THE D E B T O R.
O halte, and free me from this dungeon's gloom ;
Sink my grey hairs with sorrow to the tomb !
With clamorous din wake Charity's dull ear,
Weave the feign'd tale, or drop the ready tear.
To views of bliss, to scenes of afuence born;
And every blessing haild my youthful morn.
That cheer'd my fancy with her magic ray,
And sorrow clos'd the evening of my day.
Fond hope a-while the trembling flow'ret rears;
And withers in an hour the pride of years.
I trusted :-(who from faults is always free?)