Be it allowed, then, that Lysias, that graceful and most polite of Speakers, was truly Attic: for who can deny it? But let it also be remembered that Lysias claims the merit of Atticism, not so much for his simplicity and want of ornament, as because he has nothing which is either faulty or impertinent. But to speak floridly, nervously, and copiously, this also is true Atticism:—otherwise, neither Aeschines nor even Demosthenes himself were Attic Speakers.

There are others who affect to be called Thucydideans,—a strange and novel race of Triflers! For those who attach themselves to Lysias, have a real Pleader for their pattern;—not indeed a stately, and striking Pleader, but yet a dextrous and very elegant one, who might appear in the Forum with reputation.

Thucydides, on the contrary, is a mere Historian, who ('tis true) describes wars, and battles with great dignity and precision; but he can supply us with nothing which is proper for the Forum. For his very speeches have so many obscure and intricate periods, that they are scarcely intelligible; which in a public discourse is the greatest fault of which an Orator can be guilty. But who, when the use of corn has been discovered, would be so mad as to feed upon acorns? Or could the Athenians improve their diet, and bodily food, and be incapable of cultivating their language? Or, lastly, which of the Greek Orators has copied the style of Thucydides? [Footnote: Demosthenes indeed took the pains to transcribe the History of Thucydides several times. But he did this, no so much to copy the form as the energy of his language.] "True," they reply, "but Thucydides was universally admired." And so, indeed, he was; but only as a sensible, an exact, and a grave Historian;—not for his address in public debates, but for his excellence in describing wars and battles. Accordingly, he was never mentioned as an Orator; nor would his name have been known to posterity, if he had not composed his History, notwithstanding the dignity of his birth, and the honourable share he held in the Government. But none of these Pretenders have copied his energy; and yet when they have uttered a few mutilated and broken periods (which they might easily have done without a master to imitate) we must rever them, truly, as so many genuine Thucydideses. I have likewise met with a few who were professed imitators of Xenophon; whose language, indeed, is sweeter than honey, but totally unqualified to withstand the clamours of the Forum.

Let us return then to the Orator we are seeking after, and furnish him with those powers of Elocution, which Antonius could not discover in any one: an arduous task, my Brutus, and full of difficulty:—yet nothing, I believe, is impossible to him whose breast is fired with the generous flame of friendship! But I affectionately admire (and have always admired) your genius, your inclinations, and your manners. Nay, I am daily more inflamed and ravished, not only with a desire (which, I assure you, is a violent one) to renew our friendly intercourses, our social repasts, and your improving conversation, but by the wonderful fame of your incredible virtues, which, though different in kind, are readily united by your superior wisdom and good-sense. For what is so remote from severity of manners as gentleness and affability? and yet who more venerable than yourself, or who more agreeable? What can be more difficult than to decide a number of suits, so as to be equally esteemed and beloved by the parties on both sides? You, however, possess the admirable talent of sending away perfectly easy and contented even those against whom your are forced to give judgment: thus bringing it to bear that, while you do nothing from a partial favour to any man, whatever you do is favourably received. Hence it happens, that the only country upon earth, which is not involved in the present confusion, is the province of Gaul; where you are now enjoying yourself in a happy tranquillity, while you are universally respected at home, and live in the hearts of the flower and strength of your fellow- citizens. It is equally amazing, though you are always engaged in the most important offices of Government, that your studies are never intermitted; and that you are constantly either composing something of your own, or finding employment for me! Accordingly I began this Essay, at your request, as soon as I had finished my Cato; which last also I should never have attempted (especially at a time when the enemies of virtue were so numerous) if I had not considered it as a crime to disobey my friend, when he only urged me to revive the memory of a man whom I always loved and honoured in his life-time. But I have now ventured upon a task which you have frequently pressed upon me, and I as often refused: for, if possible, I would share the fault between us, that if I should prove unequal to the subject, you may have the blame of loading me with a burden which is beyond my strength, and I the censure of presuming to undertake it:—though after all, the single merit of gratifying such a friend as Brutus, will sufficiently atone for any defects I may fall into.

But in every accomplishment which may become the object of pursuit, it is excessively difficult to delineate the form (or, as the Greeks call it, the character [Footnote: [Greek: charachtaer].]) of what is best; because some suppose it to consist in one thing, and some in another. Thus, for instance, "I am for Ennius," says one; "because he confines himself to the style of conversation:"—"and I," says another, "give the preference to Pacuvius, because his verses are embellished and well- wrought; whereas Ennius is rather too "negligent." In the same manner we may suppose a third to be an admirer of Attius; for, as among the Greeks, so it happens with us, "different men have different opinions;"—nor is it easy to determine which is best. Thus also in painting, some are pleased with a rough, a wild, and a dark and cloudy style; while others prefer that which is clear, and lively, and well covered with light. How then shall we strike out a general rule or model, when there are several manners, and each of them has a certain perfection of its own? But this difficulty has not deterred me from the undertaking; nor have I altered my opinion that in all things there is a something which comprehends the highest excellence of the kind, and which, though not generally discernible, is sufficiently conspicuous to him, who is skilled in the subject.

"But as there are several kinds of Eloquence which differ considerably from each other, and therefore cannot be reduced to one common form;—for this reason, as to mere laudatory Orations, Essays, Histories, and such suasory performances as the Panegyric of Isocrates, and the speeches of many others who were called Sophists;—and, in short, as to every thing which is unconnected with the Forum, and the whole of that species of discourse which the Greeks call the demonstrative [Footnote: The demonstrative species of Eloquence is that which was solely employed either in praising or dispraising. Besides this, there are two others, viz. the deliberative, and the judicial; the former was employed in political debates, where it's whole business was either to persuade or dissuade; and the latter, in judicial suits and controversies, where the Speaker was either to accuse or defend. But, on many occasions, they were all three intermingled in the same discourse.];—the form, or leading character of these I shall pass over; though I am far from considering it as a mere trifle, or a subject of no consequence; on the contrary, we may regard it as the nurse and tutoress of the Orator we are now delineating. For here, a fluency of expression is confessedly nourished and cultivated; and the easy construction, and harmonious cadence of our language is more openly attended to. Here, likewise, we both allow and recommend a studious elegance of diction, and a continued flow of melodious and well-turned periods;—and here, we may labour visibly, and without concealing our art, to contrast word to word, and to compare similar, and oppose contrary circumstances, and make several sentences (or parts of a sentence) conclude alike, and terminate with the same cadence; —ornaments, which in real pleadings, are to be used more sparingly, and with less appearance of art. Isocrates, therefore, confesses in his Panathenaicus, that these were beauties which he industriously pursued; for he composed it not for victory in a suit at law (where such a confession must have greatly injured his cause) but merely to gratify the ear.

"It is recorded that the first persons who practised this species of composition [Footnote: The composition here mentioned consisted of three parts, The first regarded the structure; that is, the connection of our words, and required that the last syllable of every preceding, and the first of every succeeding word should be so aptly united as to produce an agreeable sound; which was effected by avoiding a collision of vowels or of inamicable consonants. It likewise required that those words should be constantly made choice of, whose separate sounds were most harmonious and most agreeable to the sense. The second part consisted in the use of particular forms of expression, such as contrasts and antithesises, which have an appearance of order and regularity in their very texture. The third and last regarded that species of harmony which results not so much from the sound, as from the time and quantity of the several syllables in a sentence. This was called number, and sometimes rhyme; and was in fact a kind of prosaic metre, which was carefully attended to by the ancients in every part of a sentence, but more particularly at the beginning and end of it. In this part they usually included the period, or the rules for determining the length of their sentences. I thought it necessary to give this short account of their composition, because our author very frequently alludes to it, before he proceeds to explain it at large.] were Thrasymachus the Chalcedonian, and Gorgias the Leontine; and that these were followed by Theodorus the Byzantine, and a number of others, whom Socrates, in the Phaedrus of Plato, calls [Greek: logodaidalos] Speech-wrights; many of whole discourses are sufficiently neat and entertaining; but, being the first attempts of the kind, were too minute and puerile, and had too poetical an air, and too much colouring. On this account, the merit of Herodotus, and Thucydides is the more conspicuous: for though they lived at the time we are speaking of, they carefully avoided those studied decorations, or rather futilities. The former rolls along like a deep, still river without any rocks or shoals to interrupt it's course; and the other describes wars and battles, as if he was founding a charge on the trumpet; so that history (to use the words of Theophrastus) caught the first alarm from these, and began to express herself with greater dignity and spirit.

"After these came Socrates, whom I have always recommended as the most accomplished writer we have in the way I am speaking of; though sometimes, my Brutus, you have objected to it with a great deal of pleasantry and erudition. But when you are better informed for what it is I recommend him, you will then think of him perhaps as favourably as I do. Thrasymachus and Gorgias (who are said to have been the first who cultivated the art of prosaic harmony) appeared to him to be too minutely exact; and Thucydides, he thought, was as much too loose and rugged, and not sufficiently smooth, and full-mouthed; and from hence he took the hint to give a scope to his sentences by a more copious and unconfined flow of language, and to fill up their breaks and intervals with the softer and more agreeable numbers. By teaching this to the most celebrated Speakers, and Composers of the age, his house came at last to be honoured as the School of Eloquence. Wherefore as I bore the censure of others with indifference, when I had the good fortune to be applauded by Cato; thus Isocrates, with the approbation of Plato, may slight the judgment of inferior critics. For in the last page of the Phaedrus, we find Socrates thus expressing himself;—'Now, indeed, my dear Phaedrus,' said he, 'Isocrates is but a youth: but I will discover to you what I think of him.'—'And what is that?' replied the other.—'He appears to me,' said the Philosopher, 'to have too elevated a genius to be placed on a level with the arid speeches of Lysias. Besides, he has a stronger turn for virtue; so that I shall not wonder, as he advances in years, if in the species of Eloquence to which he now applies himself, he should exceed all, who have hitherto pursued it, like so many infants. Or, if this should not content him, I shall not be astonished to behold him with a godlike ardour pursuing higher and more important studies; for I plainly see that he has a natural bent to Philosophy!'"

Thus Socrates presaged of him when he was but a youth. But Plato recorded this eulogium when he was older; and he recorded it, though he was one of his equals and cotemporaries, and a professed enemy to the whole tribe of Rhetoricians! Him he admires, and him alone! So that such who despise Isocrates, must suffer me to err with Socrates and Plato.

The manner of speaking, then, which is observed in the demonstrative or ornamental species of Eloquence, and which I have before remarked, was peculiar to the Sophists, is sweet, harmonious, and flowing, full of pointed sentiments, and arrayed in all the brilliance of language. But it is much fitter for the parade than the field; and being, therefore, consigned to the Palaestra, and the schools, has been long banished from the Forum. As Eloquence, however, after she had been fed and nourished with this, acquires a fresher complexion, and a firmer constitution; it would not be amiss, I thought, to trace our Orator from his very cradle.