No More Learning

The effect, it must be admitted, springs from the disasters of
society. It is true, that form of government, in which no such evils
occur, must, beyond all question, be allowed to be the best; but
since, in the course of human affairs, sudden convulsions must happen,
my position is, that they produced, at Rome, that flame of eloquence
which at this hour is so much admired. The mind of the orator grows
and expands with his subject. Without ample materials no splendid
oration was ever yet produced. Demosthenes, I believe, did not owe his
vast reputation to the speeches which he made against his guardians
[d]; nor was it either the oration in defence of Quinctius, or that
for Archias the poet, that established the character of Cicero. It was
Catiline, it was Verres, it was Milo and Mark Antony, that spread so
much glory round him.

Let me not be misunderstood: I do not say, that for the sake of
hearing a bright display of eloquence, it is fit that the public peace
should be disturbed by the machinations of turbulent and lawless men.
But, not to lose sight of the question before us, let it be
remembered, that we are enquiring about an art which thrives and
flourishes most in tempestuous times. It were, no doubt, better that
the public should enjoy the sweets of peace, than be harassed by the
calamities of war: but still it is war that produces the soldier and
great commander. It is the same with Eloquence. The oftener she is
obliged, if I may so express it, to take the field, the more frequent
the engagement, in which she gives and receives alternate wounds, and
the more formidable her adversary; the more she rises in pomp and
grandeur, and returns from the warfare of the forum crowned with
unfading laurels. He, who encounters danger, is ever sure to win the
suffrages of mankind. For such is the nature of the human mind, that,
in general, we choose a state of security for ourselves, but never
fail to gaze with admiration on the man, whom we see, in the conflict
of parties, facing his adversaries, and surmounting difficulties.


XXXVIII. I proceed to another advantage of the ancient forum; I mean
the form of proceeding and the rules of practice observed in those
days.
Our modern custom is, I grant, more conducive to truth and
justice; but that of former times gave to eloquence a free career,
and, by consequence, greater weight and splendour. The advocate was
not, as now, confined to a few hours [a]; he might adjourn as often as
it suited his convenience; he might expatiate, as his genius prompted
him: and the number of days, like that of the several patrons, was
unlimited. Pompey was the first who circumscribed the genius of men
within narrower limits [b]. In his third consulship he gave a check to
eloquence, and, as it were, bridled its spirit, but still left all
causes to be tried according to law in the forum, and before the
prætors. The importance of the business, which was decided in that
court of justice, will be evident, if we compare it with the
transactions before the centumvirs [c], who at present have cognizance
of all matters whatever. We have not so much as one oration of Cicero
or Cæsar, of Brutus, Cælius, or Calvus, or any other person famous for
his eloquence, which was delivered before the last-mentioned
jurisdiction, excepting only the speeches of Asinius Pollio [d] for
the heirs of Urbinia. But those speeches were delivered about the
middle of the reign of Augustus, when, after a long peace with foreign
nations, and a profound tranquillity at home, that wise and politic
prince had conquered all opposition, and not only triumphed over party
and faction, but subdued eloquence itself.


XXXIX. What I am going to say will appear, perhaps, too minute; it may
border on the ridiculous, and excite your mirth: with all my heart; I
will hazard it for that very reason. The dress now in use at the bar
has an air of meanness: the speaker is confined in a close robe [a],
and loses all the grace of action. The very courts of judicature are
another objection; all causes are heard, at present, in little narrow
rooms, where spirit and strenuous exertion are unnecessary. The
orator, like a generous steed, requires liberty and ample space:
before a scanty tribunal his spirit droops, and the dullness of the
scene damps the powers of genius. Add to this, we pay no attention to
style; and indeed how should we? No time is allowed for the beauties
of composition: the judge calls upon you to begin, and you must obey,
liable, at the same time, to frequent interruptions, while documents
are read, and witnesses examined.

During all this formality, what kind of an audience has the orator to
invigorate his faculties? Two or three stragglers drop in by chance,
and to them the whole business seems to be transacted in solitude.