Part 3

Socrates used to say that "all men are sufficiently eloquent in that which they understand"; but it would have been nearer truth to say that no man can be eloquent on a subject that he does not understand; nor on a subject that he does understand, unless he know how to form and polish his speech. The two essential things to the orator are something to say and a knowledge of how to say it. There is no art that can teach one to be eloquent without knowledge. Attention to style, diction, and all the arts of speech, can only assist the orator in setting off to advantage the stock of materials which he possesses; but the stock, the materials themselves, must be brought from other quarters than from rhetoric. In the first place, the advocate must have a profound knowledge of the law. On this depends his reputation and success, and nothing is of such consequence to him or deserves more his deep and serious study. In no other profession is superficial knowledge sooner detected or more ruthlessly exposed, and however brilliant as a speaker one may be, if it but become known that he is not well grounded in the law, few will choose to commit their cause to him. Besides a knowledge of the general principles of law, another thing highly material to the success of every advocate is a diligent and careful attention to every cause that is intrusted to him, so as to be thoroughly master of all the facts and circumstances relating to it, Cicero has left a very instructive record of the method pursued by him in the preparation of a cause for trial, and which we commend to the careful consideration of every student and lawyer. He tells us, under the character of Antonius, in the second book _De Oratore_, that he always conversed at full length with every client who came to consult him; that he took care there should be no witnesses to their conversation, in order that his client might explain himself more freely; that he was wont to start every objection, and to plead the cause of the adverse party with him, that he might come at the whole truth and be fully prepared on every point of the business; and that after the client had retired he used to balance all the facts with himself under three different characters: his own, that of the adversary, and that of the judge. He censures very severely those of the profession who decline to take so much trouble; taxing them not only with shameful negligence, but with dishonesty and breach of trust. Quintilian likewise urged the necessity of carefully studying every cause, again and again recommending patience and attention in conversation with clients. "For," said he, "to listen to something that is superfluous can do no hurt; whereas to be ignorant of something that is material may be highly prejudicial. The advocate will frequently discover the weak side of a cause, and learn at the same time what is the proper defense, from circumstances which to the party himself appeared to be of little or no moment." It is said of Rufus Choate, that he began to study a case the moment it was brought to him, and that he continued to study it till the day of trial.

Besides the knowledge of the law, the advocate must make himself acquainted with the general principles of logic. He must learn how to _reason_; how to draw conclusions from premises; how to found an argument. Without a knowledge of these things, no matter how copious his diction or elegant his delivery, his speeches will be little more than "sounding brass and tinkling cymbals."

The object of the advocate is chiefly to convince, and to do this he must satisfy the understanding. Solid argument and clear method must, therefore, be used. Nothing can be more erroneous than the idea that mere declamation is eloquence. It may have the show, but never can produce the effect; it "may tickle the ear," but it will never lead a judge to pass that judgment or a jury to adopt that side of the cause to which we seek to bring them. "There is no talent, I apprehend," said Dugald Stewart, "so essential to a public speaker as to be able to state clearly every step of those trains of thought by which he himself was led to the conclusions he wishes to establish." Especially is this true at the bar--the eloquence suited to which is of the calm and temperate kind, connected with close reasoning. Let the advocate take for his motto the advice of Quintilian, "To your expression be attentive; but about your matter be solicitous."

There was much wisdom in the remark of Sir William Jones, that "an elegant method of arranging the thoughts is powerful to persuade as well as to please." William Pitt, being asked how he acquired his talent for _reply_, answered at once that he owed it to the study of Aristotle's logic in early life, and the habit of applying its principles to all the discussions he met with in the works he read and the debates he witnessed. So it is said of Rufus Choate, "he was a thorough master of logic. He had studied it, not only in detail and immediate application of style and arrangement, but in its essence and origin."

The treatise best calculated to give the student an insight into the rules and principles of logic is that by Dr. Whately. The book recommended for the strengthening of the reasoning faculties is Chillingworth's "The Religion of Protestants a Safe Way to Salvation," which was written in answer to the arguments of an adversary, and which has for years been considered the most perfect specimen of logical argument. Locke, than whom there could not be a more competent authority, proposes "for the attainment of right reasoning, the constant reading of Chillingworth"; and Lord Mansfield pronounced it the "perfection of reasoning."

Law and logic are the immediate and foundation studies of the advocate, but they are not all. Besides these he must drink deep at the fountains of science, philosophy, history and _belles-lettres_. These are the handmaids of oratory. They enlarge and liberalize the mind, embellish the style and afford illustrations, ideas, arguments, phrases, words, and last, tho not least, intellectual enthusiasm. There are few occasions, indeed, on which an advocate will not derive assistance from a cultivated taste and extensive knowledge. Their illustrations, allusions and principles, woven in with the weightier matters of the law, will make a pattern which will not fail to please and interest--will throw around the dry and uninteresting legal principles a freshness and charm that will fix the attention and fascinate the hearer.

But perhaps the chief benefit to be derived from their study is the improvement they afford to style and language. Cicero remarked in the third book _De Oratore_, that "all elegance of language, tho it receive a polish from the science of grammar, is yet augmented by the reading of orators and poets." From this source have all great orators drawn their copious and elegant diction and their polished and graceful style. Erskine is represented by an excellent authority as having spoken the finest and richest English ever spoken by an advocate. For two years prior to his call to the bar, he devoted himself exclusively to the study of literature, and probably no two years of his life were so profitably spent. In addition to his reading in prose, he devoted himself with great ardor to the study of Milton and Shakespeare. His biographers tell us that he committed a large part of the former to memory, and became so familiar with the latter "that he could almost, like Person, have held conversations on all subjects for days together in the phrases of the great English dramatist." Here it was that he acquired that fine choice of words, that rich and varied imagery, that sense of harmony in the structure of his sentences, that boldness of thought and magnificence of expression for which he was afterward so much distinguished. He could have drawn these things from no richer source. To use the words of Johnson, slightly varied, he who would excel in this noblest of arts must give his days and nights to the study of Milton and Shakespeare.

"Hither, as to a fountain, Other suns repair, and in their urns Draw golden light."

Lord Chatham read and reread Dr. Barrows' sermons until he knew many of them by heart, "for the purpose," as he himself said, "of acquiring copiousness of diction and an exact choice of words." William Pitt, his son, obtained his remarkable command of the English tongue from the same source, in connection with Shakespeare and the Bible; the latter he studied not only as a guide of life, but as the true "_well_ of English undefiled." No wonder that his contemporary, Fox, should have said of him, "He always has the right word in the right place."

William Pinckney has himself unlocked the secret of his intellectual affluence and elegant diction. He says that he made it a rule from his youth never to see a fine idea without committing it to memory. Rufus Choate, in speaking of this fact, said "the result was the most splendid and powerful English spoken style I ever heard." Choate pursued a plan equally commendable. During the greater portion of his life he made it a practise to read aloud every day a page or more from some fine English author. This he did for the improvement of his expression. He was a most indefatigable student of _words_, and made the whole round of literature tributary to his vocabulary.

The following extract from the address of Lord Brougham to the University of Glasgow will be a sufficient guide, with what has been already said, to the selection of those authors that will tend most to improve the style and diction: "The English writers who really unlock the rich sources of the language are those who flourish from the end of Elizabeth's to the end of Queen Anne's reign; who used a good Saxon dialect with ease, but correctness and perspicuity--learned in the ancient classics, but only enriching their mother tongue where the Attic could supply its defects--not overlaying it with a profuse pedantic coinage of words."

The great masters of oratory should be studied most carefully and diligently; Erskine, Burke, Pinckney, Webster, and, above all, the legal orations of Cicero are the best models for a young lawyer. Read Bolingbroke for specimens of the splendid and ornate; Fox and Pitt for the classical and argumentative; advantage may likewise be derived from the letters of Junius.

In pursuing these studies, the motto must be _multum haud multa_--much, not many. No real advantage and improvement will be gained from a rambling, desultory course of reading. There is a whole sermon in that saying of Hobbes, of Malmesbury, "If I had read as many books as other persons, I should probably know as little." The wisest and best informed teach us, both by counsel and example, to read a little and that well; to count not by the books we have read, but by the subjects we have exhausted. Swift said that the reason a certain university was a learned place was that most persons took some learning there and few brought any away with them, so it accumulated. Such is the effect of a proper course of reading--everything adds and nothing takes away.

We are not counseling an imitation of the _men of one book_, but the pursuit of one system. Choose those authors most suited to the object in view and _know_ them.

The advocate should make choice of his book, Shakespeare, Milton, Bacon, Burke, Erskine, Bolingbroke, and make that his chief study. One sterling author to call _my own_, ever most conspicuous and most at hand, read, reread, "marked and quoted," will do much to form the mind, to teach one to think, to give precision of expression, purity of taste, loftiness of views and fervency of spirit. No better selection can be made by the advocate than the works of Edmund Burke. "Among the characteristics of Lord Erskine's eloquence," observes one of his recent biographers, "the perpetual illustrations derived from the writings of Burke is very remarkable. In every one of the great state trials in which he was engaged, he referred to the productions of that extraordinary person as to a text-book of political wisdom--expounding, enforcing and justifying all the great and noble principles of freedom and of justice." "When I look," says Lord Erskine himself, "into my own mind and find its best lights and principles fed from that immense magazine of moral and political wisdom which he has left an inheritance to mankind for their instruction, I feel myself repelled by an awful and grateful sensibility from perpetually approaching him." Take, then, the words of this sublime philosopher and orator, bind them up in one thick volume, on which write _wisdom_ in gold letters, and begin to read it through every New-year's day.

Another means of acquiring a command of language is translation, and it is commended alike by the precepts and example of the great masters. Two thousand years ago Cicero stocked his vocabulary by this plan, translating from the Greek into Latin. Chatham translated the orations of Demosthenes again and again into English. Mansfield declared that there was not one of the orations of Cicero that he had not translated more than once. Pitt pursued the same plan for ten years, and to this he ascribed his extraordinary command of language, which enabled him to give every idea its most felicitous expression, and to pour out an unbroken stream of thought hour after hour without once hesitating for a word or recalling a phrase, or sinking for a moment into looseness or inaccuracy in the structure of a sentence. Choate was a most indefatigable translator. This exercise he persevered in daily, even in the midst of the most arduous business. Five minutes a day, if no more, he would seize in the morning for this task. Tacitus was his favorite author. He attended chiefly to the multiplication of synonyms. For every word he translated, he would rack his brain and search his books till he got five or six corresponding English words. This is the true way to translate when style and diction is the object. Turn the passage read into regular English sentences, aiming to give the idea with great exactness and to express it with idiomatic accuracy and ease. This plan of translating is infinitely better than the plan sometimes advised of taking some passage of classic English, getting the ideas from it and then expressing them in the best manner possible. In this latter method, the author has already selected the most appropriate words, and if the student use the same words he will receive no profit, or if other words, it is prejudicial, as it accustoms one to use such as are less eligible.

The student of advocacy can not give too much attention to the culture of _expression_. Orators in every age have made it a specific study. Cicero says, "The proper concern of an orator, as I have already often said, is language of power and eloquence accommodated to the feelings and understanding of mankind." Language and its elements, words, are to be mastered by direct, earnest labor. A speaker ought _daily_ to exercise and air his vocabulary and add to and enrich it. The advocate does not want a diction gathered from the newspapers, caught from the air, common and unsuggestive; but one whose every word is full freighted with suggestion and association, with beauty and power. It is a rich and rare English that one ought to command, who is aiming to control a jury's ear.

Chesterfield, in his letters to his son, said, "Manner is of as much importance as matter"; and that this has been the opinion of all great orators may be gathered from the vast labor expended by them on the cultivation of expression and delivery. How much stress was laid upon this by the greatest of all orators, Demosthenes, appears from a noted saying of his related by both Cicero and Quintilian, when, being asked what was the first point in oratory, he answered, action; and being asked what was the second, he answered, action; and afterward what was the third, he still answered, action. And Plutarch said of him that "he thought it a small matter to premeditate and compose, tho with the utmost care, if the pronunciation and propriety of gesture were not attended to." Esteeming delivery of such vast importance to the orator, there is no wonder that he should have labored for months together in his subterranean study to form his action and improve his voice.

To the superficial thinker, the study of gesture and of the management of the voice may appear to be but "vanity of vanities"--gaudy tinselry and worthless decoration; but the experience of all time has proved that they are powerful to persuade and strong to convince. We all know how much meaning--how much expression--how much power there may be in a look, in a tone of the voice, or in a motion. The impression they make on others is frequently much stronger than any that words can make. They are the language of nature, and are understood by all far better than words, which are only the arbitrary conventional symbols of ideas. The speaker who should use bare words, without aiding their meaning by proper tones and accents, would make but a feeble impression, and leave but a misty and indistinct conception of what he had delivered.

It is surprizing, indeed, to see how perfectly persons practised in the art of gestures can communicate even complicated trains of thought and long series of facts without the aid of words. This fact was known and appreciated by the ancient Greeks and Romans, who made the subject a study far more than have subsequent nations. Cicero informs us that it was a matter of dispute between the actor Roscius and himself whether the former could express a sentiment in a greater variety of ways by gestures, or the latter by words. During the reign of Augustus, both tragedies and comedies were acted by pantomime alone. It was perfectly understood by the people, who wept and laughed, and were excited in every way as much as if the words had been employed. It seems, indeed, to have worked upon their sympathies more powerfully than words; for it became necessary, at a subsequent period, to enact a law restraining members of the Senate from studying the art of pantomime--a practise to which, it seems, they had resorted in order to give more effect to their speeches before that body.

There have been volumes written on this subject of delivery, but they are little better than a "vexation of spirit." The tone of the voice, the look, the gesture, suited to express a thought or emotion, must be learned from experience and the example of living speakers and masters. Curran and many others have made it a practise to speak before a glass, that they might themselves judge of the propriety of their gestures, and correct those at fault. A more condensed or sensible treatise on this subject can not be found than Hamlet's direction to the players:

"Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounce it to you--trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand; but use all gently, for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. Oh, it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious, periwigpated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise.... Be not too tame, neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor; suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature; for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was, and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy off, tho it make the unskilful laugh, can not but make the judicious grieve; the censure of which one must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a whole theater of others."

The student who shall follow these directions, which are as applicable to the speaker as to the player, will not go very far wrong.

The first consideration of a speaker must be to make himself heard by all those to whom he speaks. This, tho often neglected, is of the first importance, and is a matter that rests mainly in the management of the voice, and not in the strength of lungs. Nor is it, as many suppose, a natural talent, for the voice is susceptible of the greatest culture, and may be formed after almost any model. To make oneself audible, it is not necessary that the voice should be pitched on a high key. Strength of sound does not depend upon the key or note on which one speaks, but on the proper management of the voice. A speaker may render his voice strong and full while speaking in a middle or conversational tone, and will be able to give the most sustained force to that pitch, as it is the one to which in conversation he is accustomed. The conversational key is the one that the advocate should, with rare exceptions, adopt; otherwise he will exhaust himself and be heard with pain by his audience. Grattan tells us that he heard Lord Chatham speak in the House of Lords; and it was just like talking to one man by the buttonhole, except when he lifted himself in enthusiasm, and then the effect of the outbreak was immense; and of Harrison Gray Otis it is said that when you met him in the street and heard him talk, you heard the orator Otis almost as much as if he were in Faneuil Hall talking about politics.

In the next place, the student of advocacy must study to articulate clearly and distinctly. On this, as much as on the quantity of sound, depends the capacity to make oneself heard.

We need say nothing with regard to emphasis, pauses, tones and gestures. Every one who goes about his work in earnest will devote proper attention to these matters, and will gain more from experience and observation than from the rules laid down in the books. One thing seldom laid down in the books is of the highest importance to the advocate: that is, to study always to _feel_ what he speaks. Unless he do this, his oratory will be little more than an empty and puerile flow of words. "The author who will make me weep," says Horace, "must first weep himself." "In reality," adds Henry Fielding, "no man can paint a distress well which he doth not feel while he is painting it; nor do I doubt but that the most pathetic and affecting scenes have been writ with tears." In Shakespeare's Richard II, the Duchess of York thus impeaches the sincerity of her husband:

"Pleads he in earnest? Look upon his face, His eyes do drop no tears; his prayers are jest; His words come from his mouth; ours, from our breast; He prays but faintly and would be denied; We pray with heart and soul."

No kind of language is so generally understood, or has such force and weight, as the language of feeling. The advocate must be in downright earnest before he can impress his hearers.