Dialogue Concerning Oratory, or the Causes of Corrupt Eloquence — 05 - Section 05
XXXII.
Am I to be told, that to gain some slight information on particular subjects, as occasion may require, will sufficiently answer the purposes of an orator?
In answer to this, let it be observed, that the application of what we draw from our own fund, is very different from the use we make of what we borrow.
Whether we speak from digested knowledge, or the mere suggestion of others, the effect is soon perceived.
Add to this, that conflux of ideas with which the different sciences enrich the mind, gives an air of dignity to whatever we say, even in cases where that depth of knowledge is not required.
Science adorns the speaker at all times, and, where it is least expected, confers a grace that charms every hearer; the man of erudition feels it, and the unlettered part of the audience acknowledge the effect without knowing the cause.
A murmur of applause ensues; the speaker is allowed to have laid in a store of knowledge; he possesses all the powers of persuasion, and then is called an orator indeed.
I take the liberty to add, if we aspire to that honourable appellation, that there is no way but that which I have chalked out.
No man was ever yet a complete orator, and, I affirm, never can be, unless, like the soldier marching to the field of battle, he enters the forum armed at all points with the sciences and the liberal arts.
Is that the case in these our modern times?
The style which we hear every day, abounds with colloquial barbarisms, and vulgar phraseology: no knowledge of the laws is heard; our municipal policy is wholly neglected, and even the decrees of the senate are treated with contempt and derision.
Moral philosophy is discarded, and the maxims of ancient wisdom are unworthy of their notice.
In this manner, eloquence is dethroned; she is banished from her rightful dominions, and obliged to dwell in the cold regions of antithesis, forced conceit, and pointed sentences.
The consequence is, that she, who was once the sovereign mistress of the sciences, and led them as handmaids in her train, is now deprived of her attendants, reduced, impoverished, and, stripped of her usual honours (I might say of her genius), compelled to exercise a mere plebeian art.
And now, my friends, I think I have laid open the efficient cause of the decline of eloquence.
Need I call witnesses to support my opinion?
I name Demosthenes among the Greeks.
He, we are assured, constantly attended [a] the lectures of Plato.
I name Cicero among the Romans: he tells us (I believe I can repeat his words), that if he attained any degree of excellence, he owed it, not so much to the precepts of rhetoricians, as to his meditations in the walks of the academic school.
I am aware that other causes of our present degeneracy may be added; but that task I leave to my friends, since I now may flatter myself that I have performed my promise.
In doing it, I fear, that, as often happens to me, I have incurred the danger of giving offence.
Were a certain class of men to hear the principles which I have advanced in favour of legal knowledge and sound philosophy, I should expect to be told that I have been all the time commending my own visionary schemes.
XXXIII.
You will excuse me, replied Maternus, if I take the liberty to say that you have by no means finished your part of our enquiry.
You seem to have spread your canvas, and to have touched the outlines of your plan; but there are other parts that still require the colouring of so masterly a hand.
The stores of knowledge, with which the ancients enlarged their minds, you have fairly explained, and, in contrast to that pleasing picture, you have given us a true draught of modern ignorance.
But we now wish to know, what were the exercises, and what the discipline, by which the youth of former times prepared themselves for the honours of their profession.
It will not, I believe, be contended, that theory, and systems of art, are of themselves sufficient to form a genuine orator.
It is by practice, and by constant exertion, that the faculty of speech improves, till the genius of the man expands, and flourishes in its full vigour.
This, I think, you will not deny, and my two friends, if I may judge by their looks, seem to give their assent.
Aper and Secundus agreed without hesitation.
Messala proceeded as follows: Having, as I conceive, shewn the seed-plots of ancient eloquence, and the fountains of science, from which they drew such copious streams; it remains now to give some idea of the labour, the assiduity, and the exercises, by which they trained themselves to their profession.
I need not observe, that in the pursuit of science, method and constant exercise are indispensable: for who can hope, without regular attention, to master abstract schemes of philosophy, and embrace the whole compass of the sciences?
Knowledge must be grafted in the mind by frequent meditation [a]; to that must be added the faculty of conveying our ideas; and, to make sure of our impression, we must be able to adorn our thoughts with the colours of true eloquence.
Hence it is evident that the same arts, by which the mind lays in its stock of knowledge, must be still pursued, in order to attain a clear and graceful manner of conveying that knowledge to others.
This may be thought refined and too abstruse.
If, however, we are still to be told that science and elocution are things in themselves distinct and unrelated; this, at least, may be assumed, that he, who, with a fund of previous knowledge, undertakes the province of oratory, will bring with him a mind well seasoned, and duly prepared for the study and exercise of real eloquence.
XXXIV.
The practice of our ancestors was agreeable to this theory.
The youth, who was intended for public declamation, went forth, under the care of his father, or some near relation, with all the advantages of home-discipline; his mind was expanded by the fine arts, and impregnated with science.
He was conducted to the most eminent orator of the time.
Under that illustrious patronage he visited the forum; he attended his patron upon all occasions; he listened with attention to his pleadings in the tribunals of justice, and his public harangues before the people; he heard him in the warmth of argument; he noted his sudden replies, and thus, in the field of battle, if I may so express myself, he learned the first rudiments of rhetorical warfare.
The advantages of this method are obvious: the young candidate gained courage, and improved his judgement; he studied in open day, amidst the heat of the conflict, where nothing weak or idle could be said with impunity; where every thing absurd was instantly rebuked by the judge, exposed to ridicule by the adversary, and condemned by the whole bar.
In this manner the student was initiated in the rules of sound and manly eloquence; and, though it be true, that he placed himself under the auspices of one orator only, he heard the rest in their turn, and in that diversity of tastes which always prevails in mixed assemblies, he was enabled to distinguish what was excellent or defective in the kind.
The orator in actual business was the best preceptor: the instructions which he gave, were living eloquence, the substance, and not the shadow.
He was himself a real combatant, engaged with a zealous antagonist, both in earnest, and not like gladiators, in a mock contest, fighting for prizes.
It was a struggle for victory, before an audience always changing, yet always full; where the speaker had his enemies as well as his admirers; and between both, what was brilliant met with applause; what was defective, was sure to be condemned.
In this clash of opinions, the genuine orator flourished, and acquired that lasting fame, which, we all know, does not depend on the voice of friends only, but must rebound from the benches filled with your enemies.
Extorted applause is the best suffrage.
In that school, the youth of expectation, such as I have delineated, was reared and educated by the most eminent genius of the times.
In the forum, he was enlightened by the experience of others; he was instructed in the knowledge of the laws, accustomed to the eye of the judges, habituated to the looks of a numerous audience, and acquainted with the popular taste.
After this preparation, he was called forth to conduct a prosecution, or to take upon himself the whole weight of the defence.
The fruit of his application was then seen at once.
He was equal, in his first outset, to the most arduous business.
Thus it was that Crassus, at the age of nineteen [a], stood forth the accuser of Papirius Carbo: thus Julius Cæsar, at one and twenty, arraigned Dolabella; Asinius Pollio, about the same age, attacked Caius Cato;
and Calvus, but a little older, flamed out against Vatinius.
Their several speeches are still extant, and we all read them with admiration.