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public speaker guard against this error. Whether he speak in a private room, or in a great assembly, let him remember that he still speaks. Follow nature: confider how she teaches you to utter any fentiment or feeling of your heart. Imagine a subject of debate started in conversation among grave and wife men, and yourself bearing a share in it. Think after what manner, with what tones and inflexions of voice, you would on fuch an occasion express yourself, when you were most in earnest, and fought most to be listened to. Carry these with you to the bar, to the pulpit, or to any public affembly; let these be the foundation of your manner of pronouncing there; and you will take the furest method of rendering your delivery both agreeable and perfuafive.

I have faid, Let these conversation tones be the foundation of public pronunciation; for, on fome occafions, folemn public speaking requires them to be exalted beyond the strain of common discourse. In a formal, studied oration, the elevation of the style, and the harmony of the fentences, prompt, almost neceffarily, a modulation of voice more rounded, and bordering more upon music, than conversation admits. This gives rise to what is called, the Declaiming Manner. But though this mode of pronunciation runs confiderably beyond ordinary discourse, yet still it must have, for its basis, the natural tones of grave and dignified conversation. I must observe, at the same time, that the constant indulgence of a declamatory manner, is not favourable either to good composition, or good delivery; and is in hazard of betraying public speakers into that monotony of tone and cadence, which is so generally complained of. Whereas, he who forms the general run of his delivery upon a speaking manner, is not likely ever to become disagreeable through monotony. He will have the same natural variety in his tones, which a person has in conversation. Indeed, the perfection of delivery requires both these different manners, that of speaking with liveliness and ease, and that of declaiming with stateliness and dignity, to be possessed by one man; and to be employed by him, according as the different parts of his discourse require either the one or the other. This is a perfection which is not attained by many; the greatest part of public speakers allowing their delivery to be formed altogether accidentally, according as some turn of voice appears to them most beautiful, or fome artificial model has caught their fancy; and

acquiring, by this means, a habit of pronunciation, which they can never vary. But the capital direction, which ought never to be forgotten, is, to copy the proper tones for expreffing every sentiment from those which nature dictates to us, in conversation with others; to speak always with her voice; and not to form to ourselves a fantastic public manner, from an absurd fancy of its being more beautiful than a natural one *.

It now remains to treat of Gesture, or what is called Action in public discourse. Some nations animate their words in common conversation, with many more motions of the body than others do. The French and the Italians are, in this respect, much more sprightly than we. But there is no nation, hardly any person so phlegmatic, as not to accompany their words with fome actions and gesticulations, on all occafions, when they are much in earnest. It is therefore unnatural in a public speaker, it is inconfiftent with that earnestness and feriousness which he ought to shew in all affairs of moment, to remain quite unmoved in his outward appearance; and to let the words drop from his mouth, without any expreffion of meaning, or warmth in his gesture.

The fundamental rule as to propriety of action, is undoubtedly the fame with what I gave as to propriety of tone. Attend to the looks and gestures, in which earnestness, indignation, compaffion, or any other emotion, discovers itself to most advantage in the common intercourse of men; and let these be your model. Some of these looks and gestures are common to all men; and there are also certain peculiarities of manner which distinguish every individual. A public speaker must take that manner which is most natural to himself. For it is here just as in tones. It is not the business of a speaker to form to himself a certain set of motions and gestures, which he thinks most becoming and agreeable, and to practife

*"Loquere," (fays an author of the last century, who has written a Treatise in Verse, de Gestu et Voce Oratoris)

-"Loquere; hoc vitium commune, loquatur
"Ut nemo; at tensâ declamaret omnia voce.
"Tu loquere, ut mos eft hominum; Boat & latrat
ille:

"Ille ululat; rudit hic (fari si talia dignum eft);
"Non hominem vox ulla fonat ratione loquen-
tem."

JOANNES LUCAS, de Gestu et Voce,
Lib. II. Paris 1675.

thefe

these in public, without their having any correspondence to the manner which is natural to him in private. His gestures and motions ought all to carry that kind of expreffion which nature has dictated to him; and, unless this be the cafe, it is impossible, by means of any study, to avoid their appearing stiff and forced.

However, although nature must be the ground-work, I admit that there is room in this matter for fome study and art. For many perfons are naturally ungraceful in the motions which they make; and this ungracefulness might, in part at least, be reformed by application and care.

The

study of action in public speaking, consists chiefly in guarding againft awkward and difagreeable motions, and in learning to perform such as are natural to the speaker, in the most becoming manner. For this end, it has been advised by writers on this subject, to practise before a mirror, where one may fee, and judge of his own gestures. But I am afraid, persons are not always the beft judges of the gracefulness of their own motions: and one may declaim long enough before a mirror, without correcting any of his faults. The judgment of a friend, whose good taste they can trust, will be found of much greater advantage to beginners, than any mirror they can use. With regard to particular rules concerning action and gefticulation, Quinctilian has delivered a great many, in the last chapter of the 11th Book of his Institutions; and all the modern writers on this subject have done little else but translate them. I am not of opinion, that fuch rules, delivered either by the voice or on paper, can be of much use, unless persons for them exemplified before their eyes *.

I shall only add further on this head that in order to succeed well in delivery, nothing is more necessary than for a speaker to guard against a certain flutter of spirits, which is peculiarly incident to those who begin to speak in public. He must endeavour above all things to be recollected, and master of himself. For this end, he will find nothing of more use to him, than to study to become wholly engaged in his fubject; to be poffeffed with a sense of its importance or seriousness; to be concerned much more to perfuade than to please. He will generally please most, when pleasingis not his foul nor chief aim. This is the only rational and proper method of raising one's felf above that timid and bashful regard to an audience, which is so ready to difconcert a speaker, both as to what he is to say, and as to his manner of saying it.

I cannot conclude, without an earnest admonition to guard against all affectation, which is the certain ruin of good delivery. Let your manner, whatever it is, be your own; neither imitated from another, nor affumed upon fome imaginary model, which is unnatural to you. Whatever is native, even though accompanied with several defects, yet is likely to please; because it shows us a man; because it has the appearance of coming from the heart. Whereas, a delivery attended with several acquired graces and beauties, if it be not easy and free, if it betray the marks of art and affectation, never fails to disguft. To attain any extremely correct, and perfectly graceful delivery, is what few can expect; so many natural talents being requifite to concur in forming it. But to attain, what as to the effect is very little inferior, a forcible and perfuafive manner, is within the power of most persons; if they will only unlearn falfe and corrupt habits; if they will allow themselves to follow nature, and will speak in public, as they do in private, when they speak in earnest, and from the heart. If one has naturally any gross defects in his voice or gestures, he begins at the wrong end, if he attempts at reforming them only when he is to speak in public: he should begin with rectifying them in his private manner of speaking; and then carry to the public the right habit he has formed. For when a speaker is engaged in a public difcourse, he should not be then employing his attention about his manner, or thinking of his tones and his gestures. If he be so employed, study and affectation will appear. He ought to be then quite in earneit; wholly occupied with his fubject and his sentiments; leaving nature, and previously formed habits, to prompt and fuggeft his manner of delivery.

* The few following hints only I shall adventure to throw out, in cafe they may be of any fervice. When speaking in public, one should study to preferve as much dignity as possible in the whole atitude of the body. An erect posture is generally to be chosen standing firm, so as to have the fullest and freest command of all his motions; any inclination which is used, should be forwards towards the hearers, which is a natural expreffion of earnestness. As for the countenance, the chief rule is, that it should correfpond with the nature of the difcourse, and when no particular emotion is expressed, a serious and manly look is always the best. The eyes should never be fixed close on any one object, but move easily round the audience. In the motions made with the hands, confifts the chief part of gesture in speaking. The Ancients condemned all motions performed by the left hand alone; but I am not sensible, that these are always offenfive, though it is natural for the right hand to

be more frequently employed. Warm emotions demand the motion of both hands correfponding together. But whether one gefticulates with one or with both hands, it is an important rule, that all his motions should be free and easy. Narrow and straitened movements are generally ungraceful; for which reason, motions made with the hands are directed to proceed from the shoulder, rather than from the elbow. Perpendicular movements too with the hands, that is, in the straight line up and down, which Shakespeare, in Hamlet, calls, "fawing the air with the hand," are feldom good. Oblique motions are, in general, the most graceful. Too fudden and nimble motions should be likewife avoided. Earnestness can be fully expressed without them. Shakespear's directions on this head, are full of good fenfe; " use all gently," says he, " and in the very tor"rent and tempeft of paffion, acquire a tempe"rance that may give it smoothness."

power

II.

Means of improving in Eloquence.

I have now treated fully of the different kinds of public speaking, of the compofition, and of the delivery of a difcourse. Before I finish this fubject, it may be of ufe to suggest some things concerning the pro

pereft means of improvement in the art of public fpeaking, and the most neceffary studies for that purpote.

To be an eloquent speaker, in the proper fenfe of the word, is far from being either a common or an easy attainment. Indeed, to compore a florid harangue on fome popular topic, and to deliver it so as to amure an audience, is a matter not very difficult. But though fome praise be due to this, yet the idea, which I have endeavoured to give

of eloquence, is much higher. It is a great art of being perfuafive and commanding; the art, not of pleasing the fancy merely, but of speaking both to the understanding and to the heart; of interesting the hearers in fuch a degree, as to feize and carry them along with us; and to leave them with a deep and strong impression of what they

exertion of the human powers. It is the

have heard. How many talents, natural and acquired, must concur for carrying this to perfection! A strong, lively, and warm imagination; quick sensibility of heart, joined with folid judgment, good sense, and prefence of mind; ail improved by great and long attention to style and compofition;

and fupported also by the exterior, yet important qualifications, of a graceful manner, a prefence not ungainly, and a full and tuneable voice. How little reason to wonder, that a perfect and accomplished orator should be one of the characters that is moft rarely to be found!

Let us not despair, however. Between mediocrity and perfection there is a very wide interval. There are many intermediate spaces, which may be filled up with honour; and the more rare and difficult that complete perfection is, the greater is the honour of approaching to it, though we do not fully attain it. The number of orators who stand in the highest class is, perhaps, smaller than the number of poets who are foremost in poetic fame; but the study of oratory has this advantage above that of poetry, that, in poetry, one must be an eminently good performer, or he is not fupportable;

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Whether nature or art contribute most to form an crator, is a trifling enquiry. In all attainments whatever, nature must be the prime agent. She must bestow the origi

nal talents. She must fow the feeds; but culture is requifite for bringing those feeds to perfection. Nature muit always have done fomewhat; bet a great deal will always be left to be done by art. This is certain, that study and difcipline are more neceffary

for the improvement of natural genius in oratory, than they are in poetry. What I mean is, that though poetry be capable of receiving assistance from critical art, yet a poet, without any aid from art, by the force of genius alone, can rise higher than a public speaker can do, who has never given attention to the rules of style, compofition,

and delivery. Homer formed himself; Demofthenes and Cicero were formed by the help of much labour, and of many affiftances derived from the labour of others.

For God and man, and lettered poft denies,
That poets ever are of middling fize.

FRANCIS.

After

After these preliminary observations, let us proceed to the main design of this lecture; to treat of the means to be used for improvement in eloquence.

In the firit place, what ftands highest in the order of means, is perfonal character and difpofition. In oder to be a truly eloquent or perfuafive speaker, nothing is more neceffary than to be a virtuous man. This was a favourite position among the ancient rhetoricians: "Non poffe oratorem

effe nisi virum bonum." To find any such connection between virtue and one of the highest liberal arts, must give pleasure; and it can, I think, be clearly shewn, that this is not a mere topic of declamation, but that the connection here alledged, is undoubtedly founded in truth and reaion.

For, confider first, Whether any thing contributes more to perfuafion, than the opinion which we entertain of the probity, disin tereftedness, candour, and other good moral qualities of the person who endeavours to perfuade? Thefe give weight and force to every thing which he utters; nay, they add a beanty to it; they dispose us to liften with attention and pleasure; and create a fecret partiality in favour of that side which he efpoules. Whereas, if we entertain a fufpicion of craft and difingenuity, of a corrupt, or a base mind, in the speaker, his eloquence lofes all its real effect. It may entertain and amuse; but it is viewed as arufice, as trick, as the play only of speech; and, viewed in this light, whom can it perfunde? We even read a book with more pleafare, when we think favourably of its author; but when we have the living speaker before our eyes, addressing us perfonally on some fabject of importance, the opinion we entertain of his character must have a much more powerful effect.

But, left it should be faid, that this relates only to the character of virtue, which one may maintain, without being at bottom a truly worthy man, I muit observe farther, that, befides the weight which it adds to character, real virtue operates also in other Ways, to the advantage of eloquence.

First, Nothing is so favourable as virtue to the profecution of honourable studies. It prompts a generous emulation to excel; it inures to industry; it leaves the mind vacant and free, master of itself, disencumbered of those bad passions, and disengaged from those mean pursuits, which have ever been found the greatest enemies to true proficiency. Quinctilian has touched this confideration very properly: " Quod fi

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tatem, avaritiam, invidiam? Nihil enim " eft tam occupatum, tam multiforme, tot "ac tam variis affectibus concifum, atque "laceratum, quam mala ac improba mens. Quis inter hæc, literis, aut ulli bonæ "arti, locus? Non hercle magis quam frugibus, in terra fentibus ac rubis occupata *."

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But, besides this confideration, there is another of still higher importance, though I am not fure of its being attended to as much as it deserves; namely, that from the fountain of real and genuine virtue, are drawn those sentiments which will ever be most powerful in affecting the hearts of others. Bad as the world is, nothing has so great and universal a command over the minds of men as virtue. No kind of language is to generally understood, and fo powerfully felt, as the native language of worthy and virtuous feelings. He only, therefore, who possesses these full and strong, can speak properly, and in its own language, to the heart. On all great fubjects and occasions, there is a dignity, there is an energy in noble fentiments, which is overcoming and irresistible. They give an ardour and a flame to one's discourse, which feldom fails to kindle a like flame in

those who hear; and which, more than any other cause, bestows on eloquence that power, for which it is famed, of feizing and transporting an audience. Here art and imitation will not avail. An assumed character conveys nothing of this powerful warmth. It is only a native and unaffected. glow of feeling, which can tranfmit the emotion to others. Hence the most renowned orators, fuch as Cicero and Demofthenes, were no less diftinguished for fome of the hig. virtues, as public fpirit and zeal for their country, than for eloquence.

* " If the manag 'ment of an estate, if anxious "attention to domeftic economy, a paffion for "hunting, or whole days given up to public

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Beyond doubt, to these virtues their elo-
quence owed much of its effect; and those
orations of theirs, in which there breathes
moft of the virtuous and magnanimous spi-
rit, are those which have most attracted the
admiration of ages.

Nothing, therefore, is more necessary for
those who would excel in any of the higher
kinds of oratory, than to cultivate habits of
the several virtues, and to refine and im-
prove all their moral feelings. Whenever
these become dead, or callous, they may
be affured, that on every great occafion,
they will speak with less power, and less
fuccess. The sentiments and dispositions
particularly requifite for them to cultivate,
are the following; the love of justice and
order, and indignation at insolence and op-
pression; the love of honesty and truth, and
deteftation of fraud, meanness, and cor-
ruption; magnanimity of spirit; the love
of liberty, of their country and the public;
zeal for all great and noble designs, and
reverence for all worthy and heroic cha-
racters. A cold and sceptical turn of mind
is extremely adverse to eloquence; and no
less so, is that cavilling difpofition which
takes pleasure in depreciating what is great,
and ridiculing what is generally admired.

Such a disposition bespeaks one not very
likely to excel in any thing; but least of
all in oratory. A true orator should be a
person of generous sentiments, of warm
feelings, and of a mind turned towards the
admiration of all those great and high ob-
jects which mankind are naturally formed
to admire. Joined with the manly virtues,
he should, at the same time, possess strong
and tender sensibility to all the injuries,
distresses, and forrows, of his fellow-crea-
tures; a heart that can easily relent; that
can readily enter into the circumstances of
others, and can make their cafe his own.
A proper mixture of courage, and of mo-
deity, must also be studied by every public
speaker. Modesty is essential; it is al-
ways, and justly, supposed to be a conco-
mitant of merit; and every appearance of
it is winning and prepoffeffing. But mo-
desty ought not to run into excessive timi.
dity. Every public speaker should be able
to rest somewhat on himself; and to assume
that air, not of felf-complacency, but of
firmness, which bespeaks a confciousness of
his being thoroughly persuaded of the truth
or justice, of what he delivers; a circum-
stance of no small consequence for making
impression on those who hear.

CONTENTS.

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