rest it there, than by turning it into every light, and pouring forth & profusion of words upon it, exhaust the attention of our hearers, and leave them flat and languid.

Of pronunciation and delivery, I am hereafter to treat apart. It is sufficient now to observe, that in speaking to mixt assemblies, the best manner of delivery is the firm and the determined. An arrogant and overbearing manner is indeed always disagreeable; and the least appearance of it ought to be shunned: but there is a certain decisive tone, which may be assumed even by a modest man, who is thoroughly persuaded of the sentiments he utters; and which is the best calculated for making a general impression. A feeble and hesitating manner bespeaks always some distrust of a man's own opinion; which is, by no means, a favourable circumstance for his inducing others to embrace it.

These are the chief thoughts which have occurred to me from reflection and observation, concerning the peculiar distinguishing characters of the eloquence proper for popular assemblies. The sum of what has been said, is this: the end of popular speaking is persuasion; and this must be founded on conviction. Argument and reasoning must be the basis, if we would be speakers of business, and not mere declaimers. We should be engaged in earnest on the side which we espouse; and utter, as much as possible, our own, and not counterfeited sentiments. The premeditation should be of things, rather than of words. Clear order and method should be studied; the manner and expression warm and animated; though still, in the midst of that vehemence, which may at times be suitable, carried on under the proper restraints which regard to the audience, and to the decorum of character, ought to lay on every public speaker: the style free and easy; strong and descriptive, rather than diffuse; and the delivery determined and firm. To conclude this head, let every orator remember, that the impression made by fine and artful speaking is momentary; that made by argument and good sense, is solid and lasting.

I shall now, that I may afford an exemplification of that species of oratory of which I have been treating, insert some extracts from Demosthenes. Even under the great disadvantage of an English translation, they will exhibit a small specimen of that vigorous and spirited eloquence which I have so often praised. I shall take my extracts mostly from the Philippics and Olynthiacs, which were entirely popular orations spoken to the general convention of the citizens of Athens: and, as the subject of both the Philippics, and the Olynthiacs, is the same, I shall not confine myself to one oration, but shall join together passages taken from two or three of them; such as may show his general strain of speaking, on some of the chief branches of the subject. The subject in general is, trouse the Athenians to guard against Philip of Macedon, whose growing power and crafty policy, had by that time endangered, and soon after overwhelmed the liberties of Greece. The Athenians began to be alarmed; but their deliberations were slow, and their measures theble; several of their favourite orator's having been gaied by

Philip's bribes to favour his cause. In this critical conjuncture of affairs, Demosthenes arose. In the following manner he begins his first Philippic; which, like the exordiums of all his orations, is simple and artless.*

*

'Had we been convened, Athenians! on some new subject of debate, I had waited till most of your usual counsellors had declared their opinions. If I had approved of what was proposed by them, I should have continued silent; if not, I should then have attempted to speak my sentiments. But since those very points on which these speakers have often times been heard already, are at this time to be considered; though I have arisen first, I presume I may expect your pardon; for if they on former occasions had advised the proper measures, you would not have found it needful to consult at pre

sent.

'First then, Athenians! however wretched the situation of our affairs at present seems, it must not by any means be thought desperate. What I am now going to advance may possibly appear a paradox; yet it is a certain truth, that our past misfortunes afford a circumstance most favourable of all others to our future hopes.t And what is that? even that our present difficulties are owing entirely to our total indolence, and utter disregard of our own interest. For were we thus situated, in spite of every effort which our duty demanded, then indeed we might regard our fortunes as absolutely desperate. But now, Philip hath only conquered your supineness and inactivity; the state he hath not conquered. You cannot be said to be defeated; your force hath never been exerted.

If there is a man in this assembly who thinks that we must find a formidable enemy in Philip, while he views on one hand the numerous armies which surround him, and on the other the weakness of our state despoiled of so much of its dominions, I cannot deny that he thinks justly. Yet let him reflect on this: there was a time, Athenians! when we possessed Pydna, Potidea, and Melthone, and all that country round: when many of the states, now subjected to him, were free and independent, and more inclined to our alliance than to his. If Philip, at that time weak in himself, and without allies, had desponded of success against you, he would never have engaged in those enterprises which are now crowned with success, nor could have raised himself to that pitch of grandeur at which you now behold him. But he knew well that the strongest places are only prizes laid between the combatants, and ready for the conqueror. He knew that the dominions of the absent devolve naturally to those who are in the field; the possessions of the supine, to the active and intrepid. Animated by these sentiments, he overturns whole nations. He either rules universally as a conqueror, or governs as a protector. For mankind naturally seek confederacy with such, as they see resolved and preparing not to be wanting to themselves.

If you, my countrymen! will now at length be persuaded to enter

In the following extracts, Leland's translation is mostly followed. This thought is only hinted at in the first Philippic, but brought out more fully in the third; as the same hought, occasioned by similar situations of affairs, sometimes occur in the different orations on this subject.

tain the like sentiments; if each of you will be disposed to approve himself an useful citizen, to the utmost that his station and abilities enable him; if the rich will be ready to contribute, and the young to take the field; in one word, if you will be yourselves, and banish these vain hopes which every single person entertains, that the active part of public business may lie upon others and he remain at his ease; you may then, by the assistance of the gods, recal those opportunities which your supineness hath neglected, regain your dominions, and chastise the insolence of this man.'

'But when, O my countrymen! will you begin to exert your vigour? Do you wait till roused by some dire event? till forced by some necessity? What then are we to think of our present condition? To free men, the disgrace attending on misconduct is in my opinion, the most urgent necessity. Or say, is it your sole ambition to wander through the public places, each inquiring of the other, 'what new advices? Can any thing be more new, than that a man of Macedon should conquer the Athenians, and give law to Greece! 'Is Philip dead?'--No-but he is sick.' Pray, what is it to you whether Philip is sick or not? supposing he should die, you would raise up another Philip, if you continue thus regardless of your inter

est.

'Many, I know, delight more in nothing than in circulating all the rumours, they hear as articles of intelligence. Some cry, Philip bath joined with the Lacedæmonians, and they are concerting the destruction of Thebes. Others assure us, he hath sent an embassy to the king of Persia; others, that he is fortifying places in Illyria. Thus we all go about framing our several tales. I do believe indeed, Athenians! that he is intoxicated with his greatness, and does entertain his imagination with many such visionary projects, as he sees no power rising to oppose him. But I cannot be persuaded that he hath so taken his measures, that the weakest among us (for the weakest they are who spread such rumours) know what he is next to do. Let us disregard these tales. Let us only be persuaded of this, that he is our enemy; that we have long been subject to his insolence; that whatever we expected to have been done for us by others, hath turned against us; that all the resource left, is in ourselves; and that if we are not inclined to carry our arms abroad, we should be forced to engage him at home. Let us be persuaded of these things, and then we shall come to a proper determination, and be no longer guided by rumours. We need not be solicitous to know what particular events are to happen. We may be well assured that nothing good can happen, unless we give due attention to our own affairs, and act as becomes Athenians.

'Were it a point generally acknowledged that Philip is now at actual war with the state, the only thing under deliberation would then be, how to oppose him with most safety. But since there are persons so strangely infatuated, that although he has already possessed himself of a considerable part of our dominions; although he is

*Phil. iii.

still extending his conquests; although all Greece has suffered by his injustice; yet they can hear it repeated in this assembly, that it is some of us who seek to embroil the state in war: this suggestion must first be guarded against. I readily admit, that were it in our power to determine whether we should be at peace or war, peace, if it depended on our option, is most desirable to be embraced. But if the other party liath drawn the sword, and gathered his armies round him; if he amuses us with the name of peace, while, in fact, he is proceeding to the greatest hostilities, what is left for us but to oppose him? If any man takes that for a peace, which is only a preparation for his leading his forces directly upon us, after his other conquests, I hold that inan's mind to be disordered. At least, it is only our conduct towards Philip, not Philip's conduct towards us, that is to be termed a peace; and this is the peace for which Philip's treasures are expended, for which his gold is so liberally scattered among our venal orators, that he may be at liberty to carry on the war against you, while you make no war on him.

'Heavens! is there any man of a right mind who would judge of peace or war by words, and not by actions? Is there any man so weak as to imagine that it is for the sake of those paltry villages of Thrace, Dronguylus, and Cabyle, and Mastira, that Philip is now braving the utmost dangers, and enduring the severity of toils and seasons; and that he has no designs upon the arsenals, and the navies, and the silver mines of Athens? or that he will take up his winter quarters among the cells and dungeons of Thrace, and leave you to enjoy all your revenues in peace? But you wait, perhaps, till he declare war against you. He will never do so: no, though he. were at your gates. He will still be assuring you that he is not at war. Such were his professions to the people of Oreum, when his forces were in the heart of their country; such his professions to those of Pheræ, until the moment he attacked their walls: and thus he amused the Olynthians till he came within a few miles of them, and then he sent them a message, that either they must quit their city, or he his kingdom. He would indeed be the absurdest of mankind, if, while you suffer his outrages to pass unnoticed, and are wholly engaged in accusing and prosecuting one another, he should, by declaring war, put an end to your private contests, warn you to direct all your zeal against him, and deprive his pensioners of their most specious pretence for suspending your resolutions, that of his not being at war with the state. I, for my part, hold and declare, that by his attack of the Megaræans, by his attempts upon the liberty of Euboea, by his late incursions into Thrace, by his practices in Peloponnesus, Philip has violated the treaty; he is in a state of hostility with you; unless you shall affirm, that he who prepares to besiege a city, is still at peace, until the walls be actually invested. The man whose designs, whose whole conduct tends to reduce me to subjection, that man is at war with me, though not a blow has yet been given, nor a sword drawn.

'All Greece, all the barbarian world, is too narrow for this man's

ambition. And though we Greeks see and hear all this, we send no embassies to each other; we express no resentment; but into such wretchedness are we sunk, that even to this day, we neglect what our interest and duty demand. 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 on him; although no man can be ignorant, that, like the regular periodic 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 row 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 stability, so the grounds and principles of great enterprizes should be justice and truth. But this solid foundasion is wanting to all the enterprizes of Philip.

Hence, among his confederates, there are many who hate, who