 Section 5 of a Dialogue Concerning Oratory, or the Causes of Corrupt Eloquence by Publius Cornelius Tacitus, translated by Arthur Murphy, this labor box recording is in the public domain. Am I to be told that to gain some slight information on particular subjects as occasion may require, we will sufficiently answer the purposes of an orator. In answer to this, let it be observed that the application of what we draw from our own fund is very different from the use we make of what we borrow. Whether we speak from digested knowledge, or the mere suggestion of others, the effect is soon perceived. To catch this, that conflux of ideas with which the different sciences enrich the mind gives an air of dignity to whatever we say, even in cases where that depth of knowledge is not required. Science adorns the speaker at all times, and where it is least expected, confers a grace that charms every hearer. The man of erudition feels it, and the unlettered part of the audience acknowledged the effect without knowing the cause. A murmur of applause ensues. The speaker is allowed to have laid in a store of knowledge. He possesses all the powers of persuasion, and then is called an orator indeed. I take the liberty to add, if we aspire to that honorable appellation, that there is no way but that which I have chalked out. No man was ever yet a complete orator, and I affirm, never can be, unless, like the soldier marching to the field of battle, he enters the forum, armed at all points with the sciences and the liberal arts. Is that the case in these or modern times? The style which we hear every day abounds with colloquial barbarisms and vulgar phraseology. No knowledge of the laws is heard. Our municipal policy is wholly neglected, and even the decrees of the Senate are treated with contempt and derision. All philosophy is discarded, and the maxims of ancient wisdom are unworthy of their notice. In this manner, eloquence is dethroned, she's banished from her rightful dominions, and obliged to dwell in the cold regions of antithesis, forced conceit and pointed sentences. The consequence is that she who was once the sovereign mistress of the sciences and led them as handmaids in her train is now deprived of her attendance, reduced, impoverished, and stripped of her usual honors, I might say of her genius, compelled to exercise a mere plebeian art. And now, my friends, I think I have laid open the efficient cause of the decline of eloquence. Need I call witnesses to support my opinion? I name the Mustanis among the Greeks. He, we are assured, constantly attended the lectures of Plato. I name Cicero among the Romans. He tells us, I believe I can repeat his words, that if he attained any degree of excellence, he owed it not so much to the precepts of rhetoricians as to his meditations in the walks of the academic school. I am aware that other causes of our present degeneracy may be added. With that task I leave to my friends, since I now may flatter myself that I have performed my promise. In doing it, I fear that, as often happens to me, I have incurred the danger of giving offense. Were a certain class of men to hear the principles which I have advanced in favor of legal knowledge and sound philosophy, I should expect to be told that I have been all the time commending my own visionary schemes. You will excuse me, replied Maternis, if I take the liberty to say that you have by no means finished your part of our inquiry. You seem to have spread your canvas, and to have touched the outlines of your plan. There are other parts that still require the coloring 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 prepare themselves for the honors 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 men expands and flourishes in its full vigor. Yes, 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. Masala proceeded as follows, having, as I conceive, shun 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 labor, the aciduity, and the exercises by which they train 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. 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 colors 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 obstruous. If, however, we are still to be told that science and eloquence 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 who bring with him a mind well seasoned and duly prepared for the study and exercise of real eloquence. 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 expended by the fine arts and impregnated with science. He was conducted to the most eminent orator of the time. After 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 hearings 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 judgment. He studied in open day amidst the heat of the conflict, where nothing weak or idle could be said with impunity, where everything 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 unable 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 defense. The fruit of his application was then seen at once. He was equal in his first outset to the most arduous business. Thus it was that grasses at the age of nineteen stood forth the accuser of papyrus carbo. Thus Julius Caesar, at one and twenty, arraigned D'Alebella. A zinnius polio, about the same age, attacked Gaius Cato, and callous, but a little older, flamed out against the tinius. After several speeches are still extant, and we all read them with admiration. End of section five. Section six of a dialect concerning oratory, or the causes of corrupt eloquence, by Publius Cornelius Tacitus, translated by Arthur Murphy. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. In opposition to this system of education, what is our modern practice? Our young men are led to academical prelutions in the school of vain professors who call themselves rhetoricians, a race of imposters who made their first appearance at Rome not long before the days of Cicero, that they were unwelcome visitors as evident from the circumstance of their being silenced by the true censors crosses in the mishis. They were ordered, says Cicero, to shut up their school of impudence. Those scenes, however, are open at present, and there our young students listen to Mount Bank oratory. I am at a loss how to determine which is most fatal to all true genius, the place itself, the company that frequented, or the plan of study universally adopted. Can the place impress the mind with awe and respect, where none are ever seen but the raw, the unskillful, and the ignorant? In such an assembly, what advantage can arise? Boys herring before boys, and young men exhibit before their fellows. The speaker is pleased with his declamation, and the hearer with his judgment. The very subjects on which they display their talents tend to no useful purpose. They are of two sorts, persuasive or controversial. The first, supposed to be of the lighter kind, are usually assigned to the youngest scholars. The last are reserved for students of longer practice and ripe judgment. But gracious powers, what are the compositions produced on these occasions? The subject is remote from truth, and even probability, unlike anything that ever happened in human life, and no wonder if the superstructure perfectly agrees with the foundation. It is to these scenic exercises that we owe a number of frivolous topics, such as the reward due to the slayer of a tyrant, the election to be made by violated virgins, the rites and ceremonies proper to be used during a raging pestilence, the loose behavior of married women, with other fictitious subjects hagnied in the schools and seldom or never heard of in our courts of justice. These imaginary questions are treated with gaudy flourishes and all the tumor of unnatural language. But after all this mighty parade, call these triplings from their schools of rhetoric into the presence of the judges and to the real business of the bar. What figure will they make before that solemn judicature, trained up in chimerical exercises strangers to the municipal laws, unacquainted with the principles of natural justice and the rites of nations? They will bring with them that false taste which they have been for years acquiring, but nothing worthy of the public ear, nothing useful to their clients. They have succeeded in nothing but the art of making themselves ridiculous. The peculiar quality of the teacher, whatever it be, is sure to transfuse itself into the performance of the pupil. Is the master haughty, fierce and arrogant? The scholar swells with confidence, his eye threatens prodigious things, and his herring is an ostentatious display of the common places of school oratory, dressed up with dazzling splendor and thundered forth with emphasis. On the other hand, does the master value himself for the delicacy of his taste? For the fabric of glittering conceits and tinsel ornament, the youth who has been educated under him sets out with the same artificial prettiness, the same fabric of style and manner. A simper plays on his countenance, his allocution is soft and delicate, his action pathetic, his sentences entangle in a maze of sweet perplexity. He plays off the whole of his theatrical skill and hopes to elevate and surprise. This love of finery, this ambition to shine and glitter has destroyed all true eloquence. Oratory is not the child of hireling teachers, it springs from another source, from a love of liberty, from a mind replete with moral science and a thorough knowledge of the laws, from a due respect for the best examples, from profound meditation in a style formed by constant practice. While these were thought essential requisites, eloquence flourished, but the true beauties of language fell into disuse and oratory went to ruin. The spirit evaporated, I fear to revive no more. I wish I may prove a false prophet, but we know the progress of art in every age and country. Rude at first, it rises from low beginnings and goes on improving till it reaches the highest perfection in the kind. But at that point it is never stationary, it soon declines, and from the corruption of what is good, it is not in the nature of men, nor in the power of human faculties, to rise again to the same degree of excellence. Masala closed with a degree of vehemence, and then, turning to maternus and secundus, it is yours, he said, to pursue this train of argument, or, if any cause of the decay of eloquence lies still deeper, you will oblige us by bringing it to light. Maternus, I presume, will find no difficulty, a poetic genius holds commerce with the gods, and to him nothing will remain a secret. As for secundus, he has been long a shining ornament of the forum, and by his own experience knows how to distinguish genuine eloquence from the corrupt and vicious. Maternus heard the sally of his friend's good humor with a smile. The task, he said, which you have imposed upon us, we will endeavor to execute. But though I am the interpreter of the gods, I must, notwithstanding, request that secundus may take the lead. He is master of the subject, and in questions of this kind, experience is better than inspiration. Secundus complied with his friend's request. I yield, he said, the more willingly, as I shall hazard no new opinion, but rather confirm what has been urged by Masala. It is certain that, as painters are formed by painters and poets by the example of poets, so the young orator must learn his art from orators only. In the schools of rhetoricians who think themselves the fountainhead of eloquence, everything is false and vitiated. The true principles of the persuasive art are never known to the professor, or if at any time there may be found a preceptor of superior genius. Can it be expected that he shall be able to transfuse into the mind of his pupil all his own conceptions, pure, unmixed, and free from error? The sensibility of the master, since we have allowed him genius, will be an impediment. The uniformity of the same dull tedious round will give him disgust, and the student will turn from it with aversion. And yet I am inclined to think that the decay of eloquence would not have been so rapid if other causes more fatal than the corruption of the schools had not cooperated. When the worst models became the objects of imitation, and not only the young men of the age, but even the whole body of the people admired a new way of speaking, eloquence fell at once into that state of degeneracy, from which nothing can recover it. We who came afterwards found ourselves in a hopeless situation. We were driven to wretched expedience, to forced conceits, and the glitter of frivolous sentences. We were obliged to hunt after wit when we could be no longer eloquent. By what pernicious examples this was accomplished has been explained by our friend Missala. We are, none of us, strangers to those unhappy times, when Roan, Roan wary of her vast renown in arms, began to think of striking into new paths of fame, no longer willing to depend on the glory of our ancestors. The whole power of the state was centered in a single ruler, and by the policy of the prince men were taught to think no more of ancient honor. Invention was on the stretch for novelty, and all looked for something better than perfection, something rare, far-fetched, and exquisite. New modes of pleasure were devised, in that period of luxury and dissipation, when the rage for new inventions was grown epidemic, Seneca arose. His talents were of a peculiar sort, acute, refined, and polished, but polished with degree that made him prefer affectation and wit to truth and nature. The predominance of his genius was great, and by consequence he gave the mortal stab to all true eloquence. When I say this, let me not be suspected of that low malignity which would tarnish the fame of a great character. I admire the men and the philosopher. The undaunted firmness with which he braved the tyrant's frown will do immortal honor to his memory. But the fact is, and why should I disguise it, the virtues of the writer have undone his country. To bring about this unhappy revolution, no man was so eminently qualified. His understanding was large and comprehensive, as genius, rich and powerful, his way of thinking ingenious, elegant, and even charming. His researches in moral philosophy excited the admiration of all, and moral philosophy is never so highly praised as when the manners are in a state of degeneracy. Seneca knew the taste of the times. He had the art to gratify the public ear. His style is neat, yet animated, concise, yet clear, familiar, yet seldom inelegant. Free from redundancy, his periods are often abrupt, but they surprise by their vivacity. He shines in pointed sentences, and that unceasing persecution of vice, which is kept up with uncommon order, spreads a lustre over all his writings, his brilliant style charmed by its novelty. Every page sparkles with wit, with gay illusions and sentiments of virtue. No wonder that the graceful ease, and sometimes the dignity of his expression, made their way into the forum. What pleased universally soon found a number of imitators. Add to this the advantages of rank and honors. He mixed in the splendor, and perhaps in the vices of the court. The resentment of Caligula, and the acts of oppression which soon after followed, served only to adorn his name. To crown all, Nero was his pupil, and his murderer. Hence, the character ingenious of the man rose to the highest eminence. What was admired was imitated, and true oratory was heard no more. The love of novelty prevailed, and for the dignified simplicity of ancient eloquence, no taste remained. The art itself, and all its necessary discipline, became ridiculous. In that black period, when vice triumphed at large, and virtue had everything to fear, the temper of the times was propitious to the corruptors of taste and liberal science. The dignity of composition was no longer of use. It had no power to stop the torrent of vice which deluged the city of Rome, and virtue founded a feeble protection. In such a conjuncture, it was not safe to speak the sentiments of the heart. To be obscure, abrupt and dark was the best expedient. Then it was that the affected, sententious brevity came into vogue. To speak concisely and with an air of precipitation was the general practice. To work the ruin of a person accused, single sentence or a splendid phrase was sufficient. Then defended themselves in a short, brilliant expression, and if that did not protect them, they died with a lively epithym, and their last words were wit. This was the fashion introduced by Seneca. The peculiar but agreeable vices of his style wrought the downfall of eloquence. The solid was exchanged for the brilliant, and they who seized to be orators, studied to be ingenious. Of late indeed we have seen the dawn of better times. In the course of the last six years, Vespasian has revived our hopes, the friend of regular manners, and the encourager of ancient virtue by which Rome was raised to the highest pinnacle of glory. He has restored the public peace, and with it the blessings of liberty. Under his propitious influence the arts and sciences begin once more to flourish, and genius has been honored with his munificence. The example of his sons has helped to kindle a spirit of emulation. We beheld with pleasure the true princes adding to the dignity of their rank and their fame in arms, all the grace and elegance of polite literature. But it is fatally true that when the public taste is once corrupted, the mind which has been warped seldom recovers its former tone. This difficulty was rendered still more insurmountable by the licentious spirit of our young men, and the popular applause that encouraged the false taste of the times. I need not in this company call to mind the unbridled presumption with which, as soon as genuine eloquence expired, the young men of the age took possession of the forum. Of modest worth and ancient manners nothing remained. You know that in former times the youthful candidate was introduced in the forum by a person of consular rank, and by him sat forward and his road to fame. That laudable custom being at an end, all fences were thrown down. No sense of shame remained, no respect for the tribunals of justice. The aspiring genius wanted no patronage. He scorned the usual forms of a regular introduction, and with full confidence in his own powers, he obtruded himself on the court. Neither the solemnity of the place, nor the sanctity of laws, nor the importance of the oratorical character could restrain the impetuosity of young ambition, unconscious of the importance of the undertaking, and less sensible of his own incapacity, the bold adventurer rushed at once into the most arduous business. Arrogance supplied the place of talents. To oppose the torrent that bore down everything, the danger of losing all fair and honest fame was the only circumstance that could afford a ray of hope. And even that slender fence was soon removed by the arts of Larges Licinius. He was the first that opened a new road to ambition. He intrigued for fame, and filled the benches with an audience suborned to applaud his declamations. He had his circle round him, and shouts of approbation followed. It was upon that occasion that the mischievous offer emphatically said, eloquence is now at the last gasp. It had indeed at that time soon manifest symptoms of decay, but its total ruin may be dated from the introduction of a mercenary band to flatter and applaud. If we accept a chosen few whose superior genius had not as yet been seduced from truth and nature, the rest are followed by their partisans, like actors on the stage, subsisting altogether on the bot suffrages of mean and prostitute hirelings. Nora is this swarded traffic carried on with secrecy. We see the bargain made in the face of the court. The bride is distributed with as little ceremony as if they were in a private party at the orator's own house. Having sold their voices, this venal crew rush forward from one tribunal to another, the distributors of fame, and the sole judges of literary merit. The practice is no doubt disgraceful. To brand it with infamy, two new terms have been invented, one in the Greek language importing the vendors of praise, and the other in the Latin idiom signifying the parasites who sell their applause for a supper. But sarcastic expressions have not been able to cure the mischief. The applauders by profession have taken courage and the name, which was intended as a stroke of ridicule, has now become an honorable appellation. This infamous practice rages at present with increasing violence. The party no longer consists of three-born citizens. Our very slaves are hired. Even before they arrive at full age, we see them distributing the rewards of eloquence. Without attending to what is said, and without sense enough to understand, they are sure to crowd the courts of justice whenever a raw, young man, stung with the love of fame, but without talents to deserve it, obtrudes himself in the character of an advocate. The whole resounds with acclamations, or rather with a kind of bellowing, for I know not by what term to express that savage uproar which would disgrace a theater. Upon the whole, when I consider these infamous practices which have brought so much dishonor upon a liberal profession, I am far from wondering that you, maternus, judged it time to sound your retreat. When you could no longer attend with honor, you did well, my friend, to devote yourself entirely to the muses. And now, since you are to close the debate, permit me to request that, besides unfolding the causes of corrupt eloquence, you will fairly tell us whether you entertain any hopes of better times, and, if you do, by what means a reformation may be accomplished. It is true, said maternus, that seeing the forum deluged by an inundation of vices, I was glad, as my friend expressed it, to sound my retreat. I saw corruption rushing on with hasty strides, too shameful to be defended, and too powerful to be resisted. And yet, though urged by all those motives, I should hardly have renounced the business of the bar, if the bias of my nature had not inclined me to other studies. I balanced, however, for some time. It was, at first, my fixed resolution to stand to the last a poor remnant of that integrity and manly eloquence, which still lingered at the bar, and shoot some signs of life. It was my intention to emulate, not indeed with equal powers, but certainly with equal firmness, the bright models of ancient times, and in that course of practice, to defend the fortunes, the dignity, and the innocence of my fellow citizens. But the strong impulse of inclination was not to be resisted. I laid down my arms, and deserted to the safe and tranquil camp of the muses. But though a deserter, I have not quite forgot the service in which I was enlisted. I honor the professors of real eloquence, and that sentiment, I hope, will be always warm in my heart. In my solitary walks, and moments of meditation, it often happens that I fall into a train of thinking on the flourishing state of ancient eloquence, in the abject condition to which it is reduced in modern times. The result of my reflections I shall venture to unfold, not with a spirit of controversy, nor yet dogmatically, to enforce my own opinion. I may differ in some points, but from a collision of sentiments it is possible that some new light may be struck out. My friend Upper will therefore excuse me if I do not with him prefer the false glitter of the moderns to the solid vigor of ancient genius. At the same time, it is not my intention to disparage his friends. Masala too, whom you, secondess, have closely followed, will forgive me if I do not in everything coincide with his opinion. The vices of the forum, which you have both as becomes men of integrity attacked with vehemence, will not have me for their apologist. But still I may be allowed to ask, have not you been too much exasperated against the rhetoricians? I will not say in their favor that I think them equal to the task of reviving the honors of eloquence, but I have known among them men of unblemished morals, of regular discipline, great erudition, and talents every way fit to form the minds of youth to a just taste for science and the persuades of arts. In this number one in particular has lately shone forth with superior lustre. From his abilities all that is in the power of men may fairly be expected. A genius like his would have been the ornament of better times. Posterity will admire and honor him, and yet I would not have secondess amuse himself with ill-grounded hopes. Neither the learning of that most excellent man, nor the industry of such as may follow him, will be able to promote the interests of eloquence or to establish her former glory. It is a lost cause. Before the vices, which have been so ably described, had spread a general infection, all true oratory was at an end. The revolutions in our government and the violence of the times began the mischief, and in the end gave the fatal blow. Nor are we to wonder at this event. During the course of human affairs there's no stability, nothing secure or permanent. It is with our minds as with our bodies, the latter as soon as they have attained their full growth, and seem to flourish in the vigor of health, begin from that moment to feel the gradual approaches of decay. Our intellectual powers proceed in the same manner. They gain strength by degrees, they arrive at maturity, and when they can no longer improve, they languish, droop, and fade away. This is the law of nature, to which every age and every nation of which we have any historical records have been obliged to submit. There is besides another general law, hard perhaps, but wonderfully ordained, and it is this, nature, whose operations are always simple and uniform, never suffers in any age or country more than one great example of perfection in the kind. This was the case in Greece, that prolific parent of genius and of science. She had but one Homer, one Plato, one the Mostonis. The same has happened at Rome, Virgil stands at the head of his art, and Cicero is still unrivaled. During his face of seven hundred years our ancestors were struggling to reach the summit of perfection. Cicero at length arose, he thundered forth his immortal energy, and nature was satisfied with the wonder she had made. The force of genius could go no further. A new road to fame was to be found. We aimed at wit and gay conceit and glittering sentences. The change indeed was great, but it naturally followed the new form of government. Genius died with public liberty. We find that the discourse of men always conforms to the temper of the times. Among savage nations language is never copious. A few words serve the purpose of barbarians, and those are always uncouth and harsh without the artifice of connection, short, abrupt, and nervous. In a state of polished society where a single ruler sways the scepter, the powers of the mind take a softer tone, and language grows more refined. But affectation follows, and precision gives way to delicacy. The just and natural expression is no longer the fashion. Living in ease and luxury, men look for elegance and hope by novelty to give a grace to adulation. In other nations, where the first principles of the civil union are maintained in vigor, where the people live under the government of laws and not the will of men, where the spirit of liberty pervades all ranks and orders of the state, where every individual holds himself bound at the hazard of his life to defend the constitution framed by his ancestors, where without being guilty of an impious crime, no man dares to violate the rights of the whole community. In such a state, the national eloquence will be prompt, bold, and animated. Should internal dissensions shake the public peace, or foreign enemies threaten to invade the land, eloquence comes forth, arrayed in terror. She wields her thunder and commands all hearts. It is true that upon those occasions, men of ambition endeavor for their own purposes to spread the flame of sedition, while the good and virtuous combine their force to quell the turbulent and repel the menaces of a foreign enemy. Liberty gains new strength by the conflict, and the true patriot has the glory of serving his country, distinguished by his valor in the field, and in debate no less terrible by his eloquence. Hence, it is that in free governments we see a constellation of orators. Hence, the Mustanis displayed the powers of his amazing genius, and acquired a mortal honor. He saw a quick and lively people, dissolved in luxury, open to the seductions of wealth, and ready to submit to a master. He saw a great and warlike monarch threatening destruction to the liberties of his country. He saw that prince at the head of powerful armies, renowned for victory, possessed of inopulent treasury, formidable in battle, and by his secret art, so more so in the cabinet. He saw that king, inflamed by ambition and the lust of dominion, determined to destroy the liberties of Greece. It was that alarming crisis that called forth the powers of the Mustanis. Armed with eloquence, and with eloquence only, he stood as a bulwark against a combination of enemies, foreign and domestic. He roused his countrymen from their lethargy. He kindled the holy flame of liberty. He counteracted the machinations of Philip, detected his clandestine frauds, and fired the men of Athens with indignation. To effect these generous purposes and defeat the policy of a subtle enemy, what powers of mind were necessary. How vast, how copious, how sublime. He thundered and lightened in his discourse. He faced every danger with undaunted resolution. Difficulties served only to inspire him with new order. The love of his country glowed in his heart. Liberty roused all his powers. And fame held forth her immortal wreath to reward his labors. These were the fine incentives that roused his genius, and no wonder that his mind expended with vast conceptions. He thought for his country, and by consequence, every sentiment was sublime. Every expression was grand and magnificent. End of section six. Section seven of a dialogue concerning oratory, or the causes of corrupt eloquence by Publius Cornelius Tacitus, translated by Arthur Murphy. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The true spirit of genuine eloquence, like an intense fire, is kept alive by fresh materials. Every new commotion gives it vigor, and in proportion as it burns, it expands and brightens to a pure flame. The same causes at Rome produced the same effect. The impassuous times called forth the genius of our ancestors. The moderns, it is true, have taken fire and rose above themselves, as often as a quiet, settled and uniform government gave a fair opportunity. But eloquence, it is certain, flourishes most under a bold and turbulent democracy, where the ambitious citizen, who best can mold to his purposes a fierce and contentious multitude, is sure to be the idol of the people. In the conflict of parties that kept our ancestors in agitation, laws were multiplied. The leading chiefs were the favorite demigods. The magistrates were often engaged in midnight debate. Eminent citizens were brought to a public trial. Families were set at variance. The nobles were split into factions, and the Senate waged incessant war against the people. Hence that flame of eloquence, which blazed out under the Republican government, and hence that constant fuel that kept the flame alive. The state, it is true, was often thrown into convulsions, but talents were exercised, and genius opened the way to public honors. He who possessed the powers of persuasion rose to eminence, and by the arts which gave him popularity, he was sure to eclipse his colleagues. He strengthened his interest with the leading men and gained weight and influence, not only in the Senate, but in all assemblies of the people. Foreign nations courted his friendship. The magistrates, setting out for their provinces, made it their business to ingratiate themselves with the popular speaker, and that their return took care to renew their homage. The powerful orator had no occasion to solicit for a preferment. The offices of preter and consul stood open to receive him. He was invited to those exalted stations. Even in the rank of a private citizen, he had a considerable share of power, since his authority swayed at once the Senate and the people. It was in those days a settled maxim that no man could either rise to dignities or support himself in office without possessing, in an eminent degree, the power of words and dignity of language. Nor can this be a matter of wonder when we recollect that persons of distinguished genius were, on various occasions, called forth by the voice of the people and in their presence obliged to act an important part. Eloquence was the ruling passion of all. The reason is it was not then sufficient merely to vote in the Senate. It was necessary to support that vote with strength of reasoning and the flow of language. Moreover, in all prosecutions, the party accused was expected to make his defense in person and to examine the witnesses who at that time were not allowed to speak in written depositions but were obliged to give their testimony in open court. In this manner, necessity, no less than the temptation of bright rewards, conspired to make men cultivate the arts of oratory. He who was known to possess the powers of speech was held in the highest veneration. The mute and silent character fell into contempt. The dread of shame was a motive, not less powerful than the ambition that aimed at honors. To sink into the humiliating rink of a client instead of maintaining the dignity of a patron was a degrading thought. Men were unwilling to see the followers of their ancestors transferred to other families for protection. Above all, they dreaded the disgrace of being thought unworthy of civil honors. Then, if by entry they attained their wishes, the fear of being despised for incapacity was a spur to quicken their order in the pursuit of literary fame and commending eloquence. I do not know whether you have as yet seen the historical memoirs which Mussianas has collected and lately published, containing in eleven volumes the transactions of the times and in three more the letters of eminent men who figured on the stage of public business. This portion of history is well authenticated by the original papers still extant in the libraries of the curious. From this valuable collection, it appears that Pompey and Crassus owe their elevation as much to their talents as to their fame and arms and that lentilus, metellus, localus, curio and others of that class took care to enlarge their minds and distinguished themselves by their powers of speech. To say all in one word, no man in those times rose to eminence in the state who had not given proof of his genius in the forum and the tribunals of justice. To this it may be added that the importance, the splendor and magnitude of the questions discussed in that period served to animate the public orator. The subject, beyond all doubt, lifts the mind above itself. It gives vigor to sentiment and energy to expression. Let the topic be a paltry theft, a dry form of pleading or a petty misdemeanor. Will not the orator feel himself cramped and chilled by the meanness of the question? Give him a cause of magnitude, such as bribing the election of magistrates, a charge for plundering the allies of Rome or the murder of Roman citizens. How different than his emotions. How sublime each sentiment. What dignity of language. 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. The Mostonis, I believe, did not owe his vast reputation to the speeches which he made against his guardians. Nor was it either the oration in defense of Quencius or that for Arceus the poet that established the character of Cicero. It was Catiline. It was Veres. It was Millow and Mark Anthony that strad so much glory around 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 inquiring about an art which thrives in 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's 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 palm 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 men who we see in the conflict of parties facing his adversaries and surmounting difficulties. 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 splendor. The advocate was not, as now, confined to a few hours. 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 pages, was unlimited. Pompey was the first to circumscribe the genius of men within narrower limits. In his third consulship, he gave a check to eloquence, as it were, bridled its spirit, but still left all causes to be tried according to law in the forum and before the preachers. 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 centumverse, who at present have cognizance of all matters whatever. We have not so much as one oration of Cicero or Caesar of Brutus, Cilius or Calvus, or any other person famous for his eloquence, which was delivered before the last mentioned jurisdiction, accepting only the speeches of Azenius Polio for the heirs of Herbineum. Those speeches were delivered about the middle of the reign of Augustus, when, after a long peace with foreign nations and a profound tranquility at home, that wise and politic prince had conquered all opposition and not only triumphed over party infection, but subdued eloquence itself. What I'm 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 closed robe and loses all the grace of action. The very cords of Judicature are another objection. All causes are heard at present in little narrow rooms where spirit and strenuous exertion are unnecessary. Murator, 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. But the orator requires a different scene. He delights in clamour, tummelt and bursts of applause. Eloquence must have her theatre, as was the case in ancient times when the forum was crowded with the first men in Rome, when a numerous train of clients pressed forward with eager expectation, when the people in their several tribes, when ambassadors from the colonies and a great part of Italy attended to hear the debate. In short, when all Rome was interested in the event. We know that in the cases of Cornelius, Scorus, Milo, Bestia and Vitinius, the concourse was so great that those several causes were tried before the whole body of the people. A scene so vast and magnificent was enough to inflame the most languid orator. The speeches delivered upon those occasions are in everybody's hands, and by their intrinsic excellence we of this day estimate the genius of the respective authors. If we now consider the frequent assemblies of the people and the right of prosecuting the most eminent men in the state, if we reflect on the glory that sprung from the declared hostility of the most illustrious characters, if we recollect that even Scipio, Silla and Pompey were not sheltered from the storms of eloquence, what a number of causes shall we see conspiring to rouse the spirit of the ancient forum. The malignity of the human heart always adverse to superior characters, encouraged the orator to persist. The very players by sarcastic illusions to men in power gratify the public ear, and my consequence sharpened the wit and acrimony of the bold declaimer. Need I observe to you that in all I have said I have not been speaking of the temperate faculty which delights in quiet times supported by its own integrity and the virtues of moderation? I speak of popular eloquence, the genuine offspring of that licentiousness to which fools and ill-designing men have given the name of liberty. I speak of bold and turbulent oratory, that inflamer of the people and constant companion of sedition, that fierce incendiary that knows no compliance and scorns to temporize, busy, rash and arrogant, but in quiet and well-regulated governments utterly unknown. Who ever heard of an orator at creed or like a demon? In those states a system of rigorous discipline was established by the first principles of the constitution. Macedonian and Persian eloquence are equally unknown. The same may be said of every country where the plan of government was fixed and uniform. At roads indeed and also at Athens where raiders existed without number and the reason is in those communities the people directed everything. A giddy multitude governed and to say the truth all things were in the power of all in like manner while Rome was engaged in the perpetual scene of contention while parties, factions and internal divisions convulsed the state no peace in the forum, in the senate, no union of sentiment while the tribunals of justice acted without moderation while the magistrates knew no bounds and no men paid respect to eminent merit in such times it must be acknowledged by the most valuable raiders as in the wild uncultivated field the richest vegetables will often shoot up and flourish with uncommon vigor and yet it is fair to ask could all the eloquence of the Graghi atone for the laws which they impose on their country could the fame which Cicero obtained by his eloquence compensate for the tragic end to which it brought him the forum at present is the last sad relic of ancient oratory but does that epitome of former greatness give the idea of a city so well regulated that we may rest contented with our form of government without wishing for a reformation of abuses if we accept the man of guilt or such as labor under the hard-handed oppression that resorts to us for our assistance if a municipal city applies for protection it is when the inhabitants harassed by the adjacent states or rant and torn by intestine divisions sue for protection the province that addresses the senate for a redress of grievances has been oppressed and plundered before we hear of the complaint it is true we vindicate the injured but to suffer no oppression would surely be better than to obtain relief find if you can in any part of the world a wise and happy community where no man offends against the laws in such a nation what can be the use of oratory you may as well for fast the healing art where ill health is never known let men enjoy bodily vigor and the practice of physics will have no encouragement in like manner where sober manners prevail and submission to the authority of government is the national virtue the powers of persuasion are rendered useless eloquence has lost her field of glory in the senate what need of elaborate speeches when all good men are already of one mind what occasion for studied herrings before a popular assembly where the form of government leaves nothing to the decision of a wild democracy but the whole administration is conducted by the wisdom of a single ruler and again when crimes are rare and in fact of no great moment what avails the boasted right of individuals to commence a voluntary prosecution what necessity for a study of defense often composed in a style of vehemence artfully addressed to the passions and generally stretched beyond all bounds when justice is executed in mercy and the judges of himself disposed to succor the distressed believe me my very good and as far as the times will admit my eloquent friends had it been your lot to live under the old republic and the men whom we so much admire had been reserved for the present age if some god had changed the period of theirs and your existence the flame of genius had been yours and the chiefs of antiquity would now be acting with mind subdued to the temper of the times upon the whole since no man can enjoy a state of calm tranquility and at the same time raise a great and splendid reputation to be content with the benefits of the age in which we live without detracting from our ancestors is the virtue that best becomes us maternus concluded his discourse there have been said messala some points advanced to which i do not entirely exceed and others which i think require further explanation but the day is well nice spent we will therefore adjourn the debate be it as you think proper replied maternus and if in what i have said you find anything not sufficiently clear we will adjust those matters in some future conference here upon he rose from his seat and embracing upper i'm afraid he said that it will fear hardly with you my good friend i shall cite you to answer before the poets and messala will arraign you at the bar of the antiquarians and i replied upper shall make reprisals on you both before the school professors and the returitions this occasion some mirth and railery we left imparted in good humor end of section 7 end of a dialect concerning oratory or the causes of corrupt eloquence by publius carnilius tacitus translated by Arthur Murphy