Nothing can be finer, nor better conducted than this passage. The circumstances are well chosen for exciting both the compassion of his hearers for Gavius, and their indignation against Verres. The style is simple: and the passionate exclamation, the address to liberty and the laws is well timed, and in the proper style of passion. The orator goes on to exaggerate Verres's cruelty still farther, by another very striking cir cumstance. He ordered a gibbet to be erected for Gavius, not in the common place of execution, but just by the sea shore, over against the coast of Italy. Let him,' said he who boasts so much of his being a Roman citizen take a view from his gibbet of his own country. This base insult over a dying man is the least part of his guilt. It was not Gavius alone that Verres meant to insult; but it was you, O Romans! it was every citizen who now hears me; in the person of Gavius, he scoffed at your rights, and shewed in what contempt he held the Roman name, and Roman liberties.' Hitherto all is beautiful, animated, pathetic; and the model would have been perfect, if Cicero had stopped at this point. But his redundant and florid genius carried him further. He must needs interest, not his bearers only, but the beasts, the mountains, and the stones against Verres; Si hæc non ad cives Romanos, non ad amicos nostræ civitatis, non ad eos qui populi Romani nomen audissent; denique si non ad homines, verum ad bestias; atque ut longius progrediar, si in aliqua desertissima solitudine, ad saxa et ad scopulos, hæc conqueri et deplorare vellem, tamen omnia muta atque inanima, tantâ et tam indignâ rerum atrocitate commoverentur.' This, with all the deference due to so eloquent an orator, we must pronounce to be declamatory, not pathetic. This is straining the language of passion too far. Every hearer sees this immediately to be a studied figure of rhetoric; it may amuse him, but instead of inflaming him more, it, in truth, cools his passion. So dangerous it is to give scope to a flowery imagination, when one intends to make a strong and passionate impression. No other part of discourse remains now to be treated of, except the peroration, or conclusion. Concerning this, it is needless to say much, because it must vary considerably, according to the strain of the preceding discourse. Sometimes, the whole pathetic part comes in most properly at the peroration. Sometimes, when the discourse has been entirely argumentative, it is fit to conclude with summing up the arguments, placing them in one view, and leaving the impression of them, full and strong, on the mind of the audience. For the great rule of a conclusion, and what nature obviously suggests, is, to place that last on which we choose that the strength of our cause should rest. In sermons, inferences from what has been said, make a common conunfortunate person, who never before had beheld that instrument of cruel death. O sacred and honoured name of liberty! O boasted and revered privilege of a Roman citizen! O ye Porcian and Sempronian laws! to this issue have ye all come, that a citizen of Rome, in a province of the Roman empire, within an allied city, should publicly in a market place be loaded with chains, and beaten with rods. at the command of one who, from the favour of the Roman people alone, derived all his authority and ensigns of power!' Were I employed in lamenting those instances of an atrocious oppression and cruelty, not among an assembly of Roman citizens, not among the allies of our state, not among those who had ever heard the name of the Roman people, not even among human creatures, but in the midst of the brute creation; and to go farther, were Ï pouring fourth my lamentations to the stones, and to the rocks, in some remote and desert wilderness, even those mute and inanimate beings would, at the recital of such shocking indignities, be thrown into commotion.' clusion. With regard to these, care should be taken not only that they rise naturally, but, (what is less commonly attended to that they should so much agree with the strain of sentiment throughout the discourse, as not to break the unity of the sermon. For inferences, how justly soever they may be deduced from the doctrine of the text, yet have a bad effect, if at the conclusion of a discourse, they introduce some subject altogether new, and turn off our attention from the main object to which the preacher had directed our thoughts. They appear, in this case, like excrescences jutting out from the body, which had better have been wanted; and tend to enfeeble the impression which the composition, as a whole, is calculated to make. The most eloquent, of the French, perhaps, indeed, of all modern orators, Bossuet, bishop of Meaux, terminates in a very moving manner, his funeral oration on the great prince of Condé, with this return upon himself, and his old age: Accept, O prince! these last efforts of a voice which you once well knew. With you, all my funeral discourses are now to end. Instead of deploring the death of others, henceforth, it shall be my study to learn from you, how my own may be blessed. Happy, if warned by those grey hairs, of the account which I mute soon give of my ministry, I reserve, solely, for that flock whom I ought to feed with the word of life, the feeble remains of a voice which now trembles, and of an ardour, which is now on the point of being extinct.” In all discourses it is a matter of importance to hit the precise time of concluding so as to bring our discourse just to a point; neither by ending abruptly and unexpectedly; nor disappointing the expectation of the hearers, when they look for our being done; and continuing to hover round and round the conclusion till they become heartily tired of us. We should endeavour to go off with a good grace; not to end with a languishing and drawling sentence; but to close with dignity and spirit, that we may leave the minds of the hearers warm; and dismiss them with a favourable impression of the subject, and of the speaker. LECTURE XXXIII. PRONUNCIATION, OR DELIVERY. HAVING treated of several general heads relating to eloquence, or public speaking, I now proceed to another very important part of the subject yet remaining, that is, the pronunciation or delivery of a discourse. How much stress was laid upon this by the most eloquent of all orators, Demosthenes, appears from a noted saying of his, related both by Cicero and Quintilian; when being asked what was the first point * Agréez ces derniers efforts d'une voix que vous fut connue. Vous mettrez fin à tous ces discours. Au lieu de déplorer la mort des autres grand prince! dorenavant je veux apprendre de vous, à rendre la mienne sain te. Heureux, si averti par ces cheveux blancs, du compte que je dois rendre de mon administration, je reserve au troupeau que je dois nourrir de la parole de vie, les restes d'une voix qui tom be, & d'une ardeur qui s'éteint.' These are the last sentences of that oration: but the whole of the peroration from that passage, Venez, peuples, venez maintenant,' &c. though it is too long for insertion, is a great master-piece of pathetic eloquence." in oratory? he answered, delivery; and being asked what was the second and afterwards, what was the third? he still answered, delivery. There is no wonder, that he should have rated this so high, and that for improving himself in it, he should have employed those assiduous and painful labours, which all the ancients take so much notice of; for, beyond doubt nothing there is of more importance. To superficial thinkers, the management of the voice and gesture, in public speaking, may appear to relate to decoration only, and to be one of the inferior arts of catching an audience. But this is far from being the case. It is intimately connected with what is, or ought to be, the end of all public speaking, persuasion; and therefore deserves the study of the most grave and serious speakers as much as of those, whose only aim it is to please. For let it be considered, whenever we address ourselves to others by words, our intention certainly is to make some impression on those to whom we speak: it is to convey to them our own ideas and emotions. Now the tone of our voice, our looks and gestures, interpret our ideas and emotions no less than words do; nay, the impression they make on others, is frequently much stronger than any that words can make. We often see that an expressive look, or a passionate cry, unaccompanied by words, conveys to others more forcible ideas, and rouses within them stronger passions, than can be communicated by the most eloquent discourse. The signification of our sentiments, made by tones and gestures, has this advantage above that made by words, that it is the language of nature. It is that method of interpreting our mind, which nature has dictated to all, and which is understood by all; whereas words are only arbitrary, conventional symbols of our ideas, and, by consequence, must make a more feeble impression. So true is this, that to render words fully significant, they must, almost in every case, receive some aid from the manner of pronunciation and delivery; and he who, in speaking, should employ bare words, without enforcing them by proper tones and accents, would leave us with a faint and indistinct impression, often with a doubtful and ambiguous conception, of what he had delivered. Nay, so close is the connexion between certain sentiments and the proper manner of pronouncing them, that he who does not pronounce them after that manner, can never persuade us, that he believes, or feels, the sentiments themselves. His delivery may be such, as to give the lie to all that he asserts. When Marcus Callidus accused one of an attempt to poison him, but enforced his accusation in a languid manner, and without any warmth or earnestness of delivery, Cicero, who pleaded for the accused person, improved this into an argument of the falsity of the charge, An tu, M. Callidi, nisi fingeres, sic ageres?' In Shakspeare's Richard II. the Duchess of York thus impeaches the sincerity of her husband: Pleads be in earnest ?-Look upon his face, His eyes do drop no tears; his prayers are jest; His words come from his mouth, ours, from our breast; He prays but faintly, and would be denied ; We pray with heart and soul. But, I believe it is needless to say any more, in order to shew the high importance of a good delivery. I proceed, therefore, to such observations as appear to me most useful to be made on this head The great objects which every public speaker will naturally have 328 Let us con in his eye in forming his delivery, are, first, to speak so as to be fully The first attention of every public speaker, doubtless, must be, to make himself be heard by all those to whom he speaks. He must endeavour to fill with his voice the space occupied by the assembly. This power of voice, it may be thought, is wholly a natural talent. It is so in a good measure; but however, may receive considerable assisMuch depends for this purpose on the proper pitch, tance from art. and management of the voice. Every man has three pitches in his The high, is that which voice; the high, middle, and the low one. he uses in calling aloud to some one at a distance. The low is, when he approaches to a whisper. The middle is, that which he employs in common conversation, and which he should generally use in public discourse. For it is a great mistake, to imagine that one must take the highest pitch of his voice, in order to be well heard by a great assembly. This is confounding two things which are different, loudness, or strength of sound, with the key, or note on which we speak. A speaker may render his voice louder, without altering the key; and we shall always be able to give most body, most preserving force of sound, to that pitch of voice, to which in conversation we are accustomed. Whereas, by setting out on our highest pitch or key, we certainly allow ourselves less compass, and are likely to strain our voice before we have done. We shall fatigue ourselves, and speak with pain; and whenever a man speaks with pain to himself, he is always heard with pain by his audience. Give the voice therefore full strength and swell of sound; but always pitch it on your ordinary speaking key. Make it a constant rule never to utter a greater quantity of voice, than you can afford without pain to yourselves, and without any extraordinary effort. As long as you keep within these bounds, the other organs of speech will be at liberty to discharge their several offices with ease; and you will always have your voice under command. But whenever you transgress these bounds, you give up the reins, and have no longer any management of it. It is an useful rule too, in order to be well heard, to fix our eye on some of the most distant persons in the assembly, and to consider ourselves as speaking to them. We naturally and mechanically utter our words with such a degree of strength, as to make ourselves be heard by one to whom we address ourselves, proAs this is the case in comvided he be within the reach of our voice. mon conversation, it will hold also in public speaking. But remember, that in public as well as in conversation, it is possible to offend by speaking too loud. This extreme hurts the ear, by making the voice come upon it in rumbling, indistinct masses; besides its giving the speaker the disagreeable appearance of one who endeavours to compel assent, by mere vehemence and force of sound. In the next place, to being well heard and clearly understood, distinct * On this whole subject, Mr. Sheridan's Lectures on Elocution, are very worthy of being consulted; and several hints are here taken from them. ness of articulation contributes more, perhaps, than mere loudness of sound. The quantity of sound necessary to fill even a large space, is smaller than is commonly imagined; and with distinct articulation, a man of weak voice will make it reach farther, than the strongest voice can reach without it. To this, therefore, every public speaker ought to pay great attention. He must give every sound which he utters its due proportion, and make every syllable, and even every letter in the word which he pronounces, be heard distinctly; without slurring, whispering, or suppressing any of the proper sounds. In the third place, in order to articulate distinctly, moderation is requisite with regard to the speed of pronouncing. Precipitancy of speech confounds all articulation, and all meaning. I need scarcely observe, that there may be also an extreme on the opposite side. It is obvious that a lifeless, drawling pronunciation, which allows the mind of the hearers to be always outrunning the speaker, must render every discourse insipid and fatiguing. But the extreme of speaking too fast is much more common, and requires the more to be guarded against, because, when it has grown up into a habit, few errors are more difficult to be corrected To pronounce with a proper degree of slowness, and with full and clear articulation, is the first thing to be studied by all who begin to speak in public; and cannot be too much recommended to them. Such a pronunciation gives weight and dignity to their discourse. It is a great assistance to the voice, by the pauses and rests which it allows it more easily to make; and it enables the speaker to swell all his sounds both with more force, and more music. It assists him also in preserving a due command of himself; whereas a rapid and hurried manner is apt to excite that flutter of spirits, which is the greatest enemy to all right execution in the way of oratory. Promptum sit es,' says Quintilian, non præceps, moderatum, non lentum.' 6 After these fundamental attentions to the pitch and management of the voice, to distinct articulation, and to a proper degree of slowness of speech what a public speaker must, in the fourth place, study, is, propriety of pronunciation; or the giving to every word which he utters, that sound which the most polite usage of the language appropriates to it; in opposition to broad, vulgar, or provincial pronunciation. This is requisite, both for speaking intelligibly, and for speaking with grace or beauty. Instructions concerning this article, can be given by the living voice only. But there is one observation, which it may not be improper here to make. In the English language, every word which consists of more syllables than one, has one accented syllable. The accent rests sometimes on the vowel, sometimes on the consonant. Seldom, or never, is there more than one accented syllable in any English word, however long; and the genius of the language requires the voice to mark that syllable by a stronger percussion, and to pass more slightly over the rest. Now, having once learned the proper seats of these accents, it is an important rule to give every word just the same accent in public speaking, as in common discourse. Many persons err in this respect. When they speak in public, and with solemnity, they pronounce the syllables in a different manuer from what they do at other times. They dwell upon them, and protract them; they multiply accents on the same word; from a mistaken notion, that it gives gravity and force to their discourse, and adds to the pomp of public declamation. Whereas, this is one of the greatest faults that can be committed in pronunciation; it makes what is called, a theat Tt |