THE MONTHLY REVIEW, For JUNE, 1759. A Syftem of Oratory, delivered in a course of lectures. Publicly read at Gresham-College, London: to which is prefixed, an Inaugural Oration, fpoken in Latin, before the commencement of the lectures, according to the ufual cuftom. By John Ward *, D. LL. &c. 8vo. 2 Vols. 10s. Ward. I N an advertisement prefixed to these lectures of the late learned and worthy Profeffor of Rhetoric in Grefham-Col lege, we are told, that it was the author's intention they fhould be published, that he fignified this his intention to feveral of his friends, and caufed a fair copy of them to be tranfcribed for this purpose, after having revised them, from time to time, with his ufual accuracy, during the space of thirty -eight years. The work is, indeed, worthy of the learned and judicious author; who appears, through the whole of it, to have been well acquainted with his fubject, and to have studied, with great care and attention, the beft writers upon it, both antient and modern. He has, in a very clear, distinct, and accurate manner, given us the moft important and useful obfervations that are to be met with in treatises upon oratory, and illustrated these observations by examples from fome of the best writers of antiquity. We shall not attempt to give an abstract of a work of this kind; but, in order to gratify the curiofity of those who may • This much efteemed perfon died in October, 1758. VOL. XX. I i be be defirous of feeing a fpecimen of the doctor's ftile and manner, fhall infert what he fays on the subject and manner of imitation. In treating upon this fubject, he fhews the nature of imitation, and endeavours to vindicate the practice of it from fuch objec tions as have been raised against it: and in order to fet the fubject in the fuller light, confiders thefe three things, viz. Who are to be imitated; what we are to imitate; and in what manner. After confidering the first of these at large, he proceeds to the other two. And with regard to the former, fays he, it will be requifite, to confider both the things themselves, which are to be imitated, and the conduct necessary for doing it with fuccess. Now, as the things to be imitated are the perfections of the beft mafters in their feveral kinds; fo these are different, according to the various fubjects, in which they excel. And therefore the things more efpecially to be obferved in an orator, as proper for imitation, are thofe, which conflitute his art; and they are invention, difpofition, elocution, and pronunciation; in Each of which the imitator ought carefully to attend to the following particulars. As to invention, it is fit he obferve in his pattern the juftnefs of his fcheme, the force of his arguments, and the topics, from whence they are fetched; his caution in guarding against objections, and kill in removing them; his fmooth and becoming addrefs; and his artful manner of applying to the paffions. In the difpofition, he ought to confider the order and arrangement of the feveral parts of his difcourfe, and his conduct through each of them. In the exordium, his manner of engaging his hearers, and how naturally he leads them into his Vubject. In the narration, how clear his account is, how confiftent with itself in all its parts, and how every circumstance is fo placed as to give weight to, and heighten the credit of the whole. In laying down the propofition, how clearly and fully he ftates his fubject. And if he afterwards divides it, how adequate the partition is to the whole, and how just the dependence of each part upon one another. In the confirmation, his skill in fo ranging his arguments, as they may throw the cleareft light upon each other; how he varies their form, and fets them in different views, both for greater variety and ftrength. In the conclufion, with what brevity, and order he comprites the fubftance of his preceding difcourfe, and particularly, with what art he addrefles to the paffions. Laftly, how eafy and natural his trantitions appear, in paffing from one thing to another, through the whole. And if any of thefe parts are wanting, or not not in their ufual order (as fometimes happens) he should confider, what particular reafons might occafion it. As to elocution, it is neceffary for him to attend to the choice and variety of his words, and propriety of his expreffions; as the beauty of his tropes, and ftrength of his figures; as likewife the turn of his periods, and harmony of his numbers in a word, the whole complexion and character of his tiles and how juftly he adapts it to the nature of his subject. And lastly, with regard to pronunciation, it is requifite to obferve his conduct in the management both of his voice and geftures. As to the former, how it rifes, finks, or varies, as the nature of each fentence, and the feveral parts of it require; and how its different changes and inflections are fuited to answer his particular intention, through the whole difcourfe. And as to the latter, how the motions of his countenance, every feature of it, and all the other parts of his body, are adapted to the nature of his expreffions, and the tone of his voice, in a decent and graceful manner. But this part of imitation requires a living pattern; whereas the former may all be gained by study, and a careful attention to the works of the beft orators. • These are the feveral things proper to be imitated in an crator. But in order to any one's doing it effectually, he should be careful to gain his fpirit, and way of thinking, as well as the beauties of his language. And therefore, when he reads him, he should strive to put himself in the fame fituation of mind, and be affected as he was, when he fpoke; that he may view things in the fame light, and then he will beft difcern both his excellencies, and defects. For as two perfons cannot have exactly the fame profpect, unless it be taken from the fame place, and directed to one point; fo neither can they conceive alike of the fame thing, unless it appear to them in the like circumftances. Wherefore he, who would get the fame ideas in reading, which another had in fpeaking, muft put himself, as near as he can, into his ftate; confider the time, place, and occafion of his discourfe; the perions, to whom it is addreffed, and how he was himself affected, with whatever else may des ferve remarking. By this means he will be let into a fuller acquaintance with his defign, receive deeper impreffions from what he fays, and be helped to fee the reafon of his conduct in each part of his performance; why he difpofed it in fuch order, reafoned in fuch a manner; chofe fuch expreffions, brightened them with fuch figures, or warmed them with fuch affections. For many things are elegant and beautiful in their proper place, which would not appear fo, if ctherwife difpofed. So thas without fuch a key, he may be often liable to miftake beauties for defects, and defects for beauties; and even to convert the beauties of a good difcourfe into blemishes, by misapplying them. I have formerly taken notice of the surprising effect, which Cicero's oration for Ligarius is faid to have had upon J. Cæfar. And doubtless very much of this was owing to the action of the orator, and his artful manner of speaking. However, if we consider the circumftances both of the speaker, and the perfon, to whom the discourse was made; we shall perceive, that nothing could be better calculated to anfwer fuch an end. After the conclufion of the civil war, when Cæfar had got the fole power into his hands, he affected nothing more, than to have it thought he held it rightfully, as the confequence of a juft victory, and therefore to be applauded for his clemency to those of the contrary party. And indeed, the two characters, of which he was most ambitious, were courage and clemency. And Cicero endeavours, in the most skilful manner, to work upon his paffions, by applauding both those virtues throughout that oration. In the clofe of which he pays him this compliment, with regard to each of them. Your fortune, fays he, has nothing greater, than to enable you; or your nature better, than to incline you, to spare very many. But he begins with his clemency, and to footh him the more, owns himself as an instance of it. For it is with respect to his own cafe, that he breaks out into thofe pathetic expreflions: O admirable clemency, worthy of the highest praise, and to be for ever recorded in the monuments of future ages! Though, in reality, this was mere grimace; for he always thought him a tyrant, and did not flick to call him fo afterwards, when he could do it with fafety. However, it answered his end at that time, to give Cæfar the most pleafing idea of his prefent felicity, as lord of fo great a part of the world. But a ter this, when he comes to speak of his courage, and carries him back to the plains of Pharfalia, which could not but revive in his mind the anxious thoughts he was then under, for the fuccefs of that important battle, on which no lefs depended than the government of the Roman empire; and these thoughts were again prefently fucceeded by a reflection upon the glorious confequences of that victory is it to be wondered at in fuch a ftate of mind, that thofe oppofite paffions of fear and joy, wrought up to fuch a pitch by fo masterly an hand as Cicero's, hould be fufficient to overfet any mortal? If we confider the fpeech in this light, and can in fome measure, by the help of imagery, render thofe things prefent to our own minds; I doubt not but we fhall feel ourselves fo warmed by them, that Plutarch's account may appear not improbable. But without that view, or entering into the circumstances of the cafe, this oration may probably be read without our being at all affected by it, or perceiving, how it poffibly could in fo won derful derful a manner affect another. It is therefore by confidering the defign of a speaker, that we are at firft helped perfectly to understand him, thence led to admire him, and fo prepared to imitate him. An imperfect knowledge can carry us only to a partial imitation. And he cannot be faid to understand him thoroughly, who does not enter into his thought and fpirit. Some indeed have imagined, that nothing more is defigned by imitation, than to use another's words and phrafes; but this is only a small part, if it goes no farther. It is the juftness and beauty of his thoughts, we are principally to labour after. This was the judgment of Quintilian upon this matter. Imitation, fays he, do not confift only in words. We are to regard the decency of an author, both as to things and perfons, what his defign is, how he forms it, even with respect to those things, which are only defigned for entertainment: how he works up his exordium, and frames his narration, how closely he reafons, with what skill he applies to the paffions, and infinuates himself into the good opinion of his bearers: which is then moft artfully managed, when it appears most eafy and natural. When we difcern these things, we fball be fit to imitate them. And he who is not only advanced jo far, but is able likewise himself to support what is deficient, or omit what is redundant, is a complete orator. Thus far Quintilian. To labour only at a fimilitude of ftile with the perfon, we propose to imitate, without entering into his fentiments and way of thinking, is (as we fay) to begin at the wrong end: fince this latter can scarce be attained, without gaining at the fame time a confiderable tincture of his ftile; whereas we find inftances of those, who by great pains, and clofe attention, have been able to exprefs themselves in the words and phrases of fome particular author, but appear wholly deftitute of his fpirit and genius. But it is time to proceed to the laft inquiry, which relates to the manner of imitation. Seneca compares imitation to the action of the ftomach, which by digeftion converts the feveral kinds of food it receives into one different fubftance, which fupplies us with fresh recruits of blood and fpirits. For fo the mind (as he fays) alters what it receives from others in such a manner, as that it no longer appears to be theirs, but its own. And therefore he, who copies only, or tranflates from another, and endeavours to pass it off for his own, is not an imitator, but a plagiary. Which is the cafe of Apuleius, who in his Metamorphofis of a golden afs, copies all in a manner from Lucian, without ever naming him. Indeed, the beft writers fometimes take particular paflages from others, almoft in the fame. words; but this is not common. They generally either fo difguife what they borrow, as to make it appear entirely new, or endeavour Ii3 |