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.
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.
Tacitus
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.