Without engaging in associations, or forming confederacies, we look with unconcern upon Philip's growing power; each fondly imagining, that the time in which another is destroyed, is so much time gained to him; although no man can be ignorant that, like the regular periodical return of a fever, he is coming upon those who think themselves the most remote from danger. And what is the cause of our present passive disposition? For some cause sure there must be, why the Greeks, who have been so zealous heretofore in defence of liberty, are now so prone to slavery. The cause, Athenians! is, that a principle, which was formerly fixed in the minds of all, now exists no more; a principle which conquered the opulence of Persia, maintained the freedom of Greece, and triumphed over the powers of sea and land. That principle was, an unanimous abhorrence of all those who accepted bribes from princes, that were enemies to the liberties of Greece. To be convicted of bribery, was then a crime altogether unpardonable. Neither Orators, nor Generals, would then sell for gold the favourable conjunctures which fortune put into their hands. No gold could impair our firm concord at home, our hatred and diffidence of tyrants and barbarians. But now all things are exposed to sale, as in a public market. Corruption has introduced such manners as have proved the bane and destruction of our country. Is a man known to have received foreign money? People envy him. Does he own it? They laugh. Is he convicted in form? They forgive him: so universally has this contagion diffused itself among us.

"If there be any who, though not carried away by bribes yet are struck with terror, as if Philip was something more than human, they may see, upon a little consideration, that he hath exhausted all those artifices to which he owes his present elevation; and that his affairs are now ready to decline. For I myself, Athenians! should think Philip really to be dreaded, if I saw him raised by honourable means. When forces join in harmony and affection, and one common interest unites confederating powers, then they share the toils with alacrity, and endure distresses with perseverance. But when extravagant ambition and lawless power, as in the case of Philip, have aggrandized a single person, the first pretence, the slightest accident, overthrows him, and dashes his greatness to the ground. For, it is not possible, Athenians! it is not possible, to found a lasting power upon injustice, perjury, and treachery. These may perhaps succeed for once, and borrow for a while, from hope, a gay and flourishing appearance. But time betrays their weakness, and they fall of themselves to ruin. For, as in structures of every kind, the lower parts should have the firmest ability, so the grounds and principles of great enterprises should be justice and truth. But this solid foundation is wanting to all the enterprises of Philip.

"Hence, among his confederates there are many who hate, who distrust, who envy him. If you will exert yourselves, as your honour and your interest require, you will not only discover the weakness and insincerity of his confederates, but the ruinous condition also of his own kingdom. For you are not to imagine, that the inclinations of his subjects are the same with those of their prince. He thirsts for glory; but they have no part in this ambition. Harassed by those various excursions he is ever making, they groan under perpetual calamity; torn from their business and their families; and beholding commerce excluded from their coasts. All those glaring exploits, which have given him his apparent greatness, have wasted his natural strength, his own kingdom, and rendered it much weaker than it originally was. Besides, his profligacy and baseness, and those troops of buffoons, and dissolute persons, whom he caresses and keeps constantly about him, are to men of just discernment, great indications of the weakness of his mind. At present, his successes cast a shade over these things; but let his arms meet with the least disgrace, his feebleness will appear, and his character be exposed. For, as in our bodies, while a man is in apparent health, the effect of some inward debility, which has been growing upon him, may, for a time, be concealed; but, as soon as it comes the length of disease, all his secret infirmities show themselves in whatever part of his frame the disorder is lodged: so, in states and monarchies, while they carry on a war abroad, many defects escape the general eye; but, as soon as war reaches their own territory, their infirmities come forth to general observation.

"Fortune has great influence in all human affairs; but I, for my part, should prefer the fortune of Athens, with the least degree of vigour in asserting your cause, to this man's fortune. For we have many better reasons to depend upon the favour of Heaven than this man. But, indeed, he who will not exert his own strength, hath no title to depend either on his friends, or on the Gods. Is it at all surprising that he, who is himself ever amidst the labours and dangers of the field: who is everywhere; whom no opportunity escapes; to whom no season is unfavourable; should be superior to you, who are wholly engaged in contriving delays, and framing decrees, and enquiring after news? The contrary would be much more surprising, if we, who have never hitherto acted as became a state engaged in war, should conquer one who acts, in every instance, with indefatigable vigilance. It is this, Athenians! it is this which gives him all his advantage against you. Philip, constantly surrounded by his troops, and perpetually engaged in projecting his designs, can, in a moment, strike the blow where he pleases. But we, when any accident alarms us, first appoint our Trierarchs; then we allow them to exchange by substitution: then the supplies are considered; next, we resolve to man our fleet with strangers

and foreigners; then find it necessary to supply their place ourselves. In the midst of these delays, what we are failing to defend, the enemy is already master of; for the time of action is spent by us in preparing; and the issues of war will not wait for our slow and irresolute measures.

"Consider then your present situation, and make such provision as the urgent danger requires. Talk not of your ten thousands, or your twenty thousand foreigners; of those armies which appear so magnificent on paper only; great and terrible in your decrees, in execution weak and contemptible. But let your army be made up chiefly of the native forces of the state; let it be an Athenian strength to which you are to trust; and whomsoever you appoint as general, let them be entirely under his guidance and authority. For, ever since our armies have been formed of foreigners alone, their victories have been gained over our allies and confederates only, while our enemies have risen to an extravagance of power."

The Orator goes on to point out the number of forces which should be raised; the places of their destination; the season of the year in which they should set out; and then proposes in form his motion, as we would call it, or his decree, for the necessary supply of money, and for ascertaining the funds from which it should be raised. Having finished all that relates to the business under deliberation, he concludes these Orations on public affairs, commonly with no longer peroration than the following, which terminates the First Philippic: "I, for my part, have never, upon any occasion, chosen to court your favour, by speaking any thing but what I was convinced would serve you. And, on this occasion, you have heard my sentiments freely declared, without art, and without reserve. I should have been pleased, indeed, that, as it is for your advantage, to have your true interest laid before you, so I might have been assured, that he who layeth it before you would share the advantage. But, uncertain as I know the consequence to be with respect to myself, I yet determined to speak, because I was convinced that these measures, if pursued, must prove beneficial to the public. And, of all those opinions which shall be offered to your acceptance, may the Gods determine that to be chosen which will best advance the general welfare."

These Extracts may serve to give some imperfect idea of the manner of Demosthenes. For a juster and more complete one, recourse must be had to the excellent original.

LECTURE XXVIII.

ELOQUENCE OF THE BAR.-ANALYSIS OF CICERO'S ORATION

FOR CLUENTIUS.

I TREATED, in the last Lecture, of what is peculiar to the Eloquence of Popular Assemblies. Much of what was said on that head is applicable to the Eloquence of the Bar, the next great scene of Public Speaking to which I now proceed, and my observations upon which will therefore be the shorter. All, however, that was said in the former Lecture must not be applied to it; and it is of importance, that I begin with showing where the distinction lies.

In the first place, the ends of speaking at the Bar, and in Popular Assemblies, are commonly different. In Popular Assemblies, the great object is persuasion; the Orator aims at determining the hearers to some choice or conduct, as good, fit, or useful. For accomplishing this end, it is incumbent on him to apply himself to all the principles of action in our nature; to the passions and to the heart, as well as to the understanding. But, at the Bar, conviction is the great object. There, it is not the Speaker's business to persuade the Judges to what is good or useful, but to show them what is just and true; and, of course, it is chiefly, or solely, to the understanding that his Eloquence is addressed. This is a characteristical difference which ought ever to be kept in view.

In the next place, Speakers at the Bar address themselves to one, or to a few Judges, and these, too, persons generally of age, gravity, and authority of character. There they have not those advantages which a mixed and numerous Assembly affords for employing all the arts of Speech, even supposing their subject to admit them. Passion does not rise so easily; the Speaker is heard more coolly; he is watched over more severely; and would expose himself to ridicule, by attempting that high vehement tone, which is only proper in speaking to a multitude.

In the last place, the nature and management of the subjects which belong to the Bar, require a very different species of Oratory from that of Popular Assemblies. In the latter, the

Speaker has a much wider range. He is seldom confined to any precise rule; he can fetch his topics from a great variety of quarters; and employ every illustration which his fancy or imagination suggests. But, at the bar, the field of speaking is limited to precise law and statute. Imagination is not allowed to take its scope. The Advocate has always lying before him the line, the square, and the compass. These, it is his principal business to be continually applying to the subjects under debate.

For these reasons, it is clear, that the Eloquence of the Bar is of a much more limited, more sober and chastened kind, than that of Popular Assemblies; and, for similar reasons, we must beware of considering even the judicial Orations of Cicero or Demosthenes as exact models of the manner of Speaking, which is adapted to the present state of the Bar. It is necessary to warn young Lawyers of this; because, though these were pleadings spoken in civil or criminal causes, yet, in fact, the nature of the Bar anciently, both in Greece and Rome, allowed a much nearer approach to Popular Eloquence, than what it now does. This was owing chiefly to two causes.

First, Because in the ancient Judicial Orations, strict law was much less an object of attention that it is become among us. In the days of Demosthenes and Cicero, the municipal statutes were few, simple, and general; and the decision of causes was trusted, in a great measure, to the equity and common sense of the Judges. Eloquence, much more than Jurisprudence, was the study of those who were to plead causes. Cicero somewhere says, that three months study was sufficient to make any man a complete Civilian; nay, it was thought that one might be a good pleader at the Bar, who had never studied law at all. For there were among the Romans a set of men called Pragmatici, whose office it was to give the Orator all the law knowledge which the cause he was to plead required, and which he put into that popular form, and dressed up with those colours of Eloquence, that were best fitted for influencing the Judges before whom he spoke.

We may observe next, that the Civil and Criminal Judges, both in Greece and Rome, were commonly much more numerous than they are with us, and formed a sort of Popular Assembly. The renowned tribunal of the Arcopagus at Athens, consisted of fifty Judges at the least.* Some make it to consist of a great many more. When Socrates was condemned, by what court it is uncertain, we are informed that no fewer than 280 voted against him. In Rome, the Pretor, who was the proper Judge, both in civil and criminal causes, named for every cause of moment, the Judices Selecti, as they were called, who were always numerous, and had the office and power of both Judge and Jury. In the famous cause of Milo, Cicero spoke to fifty-one Judices Selecti, and so had the advantage of addressing his whole pleading, not to one or a few learned Judges of the point of law, as is the case with us, but to an assembly of Roman Citizens. Hence, all those arts of Popular Eloquence, which we find the Roman Orators so frequently employing, and probably with much success. Hence tears and commiseration are so often made use of as the instruments of gaining a cause. Hence certain practices, which would be reckoned theatrical among us, were common at the Roman Bar; such as introducing not only the accused person dressed in deep mourning, * Vide Potter, Antiq. vol. i. p. 102.