Rules for expressing accurately the principal passions and hu- mours which occur in the following examples..... 2. Hamlet's soliloquy, upon his finding that the king, his father, was murdered by his uncle, in which he consi- 3. Iago artfully endeavours to excite Othello to jealousy against his innocent wife, Desdemona, to be revenged on Othello for a supposed injury. 4. Wicked king's soliloquy, expressing his remorse for the murder of his brother Hamlet, king of Denmark..ibid 459 10. The scene between Mr. Bevil and Indiana, in which she PART I......... INTRODUCTORY. PRONUNCIATION, RONUNCIATION, as a branch of oratory, is also called action, by some of the ancients. Though, if we at tend to the proper signification of each of these words, we must admit, that the former respects the voice, and the latter, the gestures and motions of the body. But if we consider them as synonymous terms, in this extensive sense, it may be said, that pronunciation or action con sists in a suitable conformity of the voice, and the various attitudes and positions of the body, in public speaking, to the subject and design of the discourse. The most capable judges among the ancients have represented this branch of oratory, as the principal concern in the province of an orator, and that from attention to which he is chiefly to expect success in the oratorical art. When Cicero, under the person of Crassus, has largely and elegantly discoursed of all the other parts of oratory, coming at last to speak of this, he says; "AH the former have their effect according as they are pronounced. It is action alone that governs in public speaking; with out which the best orator is of no value, and is often defeated by one, in other respects, much his inferior." And he lets us know, that Demosthenes was of the same opinion. Who, when he was asked, what was the pri ror. cipal concern, in oratory, replied action; and being asked again, a second and a third time, what was next eminent, he still returned the same answer. Thus he seemed to intimate, that he thought the whole art did in some manner consist in this branch of it. And, indeed, if he had not judged it highly necessary for an orator, he would scarcely have taken so much pains himself, in correcting those natural defects, under which he laboured originally, in order to acquire it. For he had not only a weak voice, but also an impediment in his speech, so that he could not pronounce distinctly certain letters. The former of these defects he conquered, partly by speaking with all the force he could exert, on the sea-shore, when the waves roared, and the sea was boisterous; and partly by pronouncing long periods as he walked up a hill. Both these methods contributed to the strengthening of his voice. And he found means to render his pronunciation more clear and articulate by the help of pebble-stones placed under his tongue. Nor was he less careful in endeavouring to acquire the habit of a just and graceful gesture: for this purpose he used to pronounce his orations alone before a large mir And as he had got an ill custom of drawing up his shoulders, when he spoke, to amend that, he used to place them under a sword, which hung over him with the point downwards. Such pains did the prince of Grecian orators bestow, to remove those difficulties which would have been sufficient to discourage an inferior and less aspiring genius. The perfection at which he arrived in his pronunciation, under all these disadvantages, by his indefatigable diligence and attention, is evident from the confession of his great adversary and rival in oratory, Eschines. Eschines, when he could not bear the disgrace of being vanquished by Demosthenes in the cause of Ctesiphon, retired to Rhodes. And being desired by the inhabitants of the place to recite to them his own oration upon that occasion, which he accordingly repeated; the next day they requested him to let them hear that of Demosthenes; which being pronounced in a most graceful manner, to the admiration of all who were present, "How much more," says he, "would you have wondered, if you had heard him speak it himself." By which it plainly appears that he gave Demosthenes the preference, in that respect. To these authorities we might add the judgment of Quintilian, who affirms, that it is not of so much moment what our compositions are, as how they are pro nounced; since it is the manner of the delivery by which the audience is moved." And hence he ventures to assert, that " an indifferent discourse, assisted by a lively and graceful action, will have greater efficacy than the finest harangue, which wants that advantage." The justness of this sentiment of the ancients, concerning the power and efficacy of oratorical pronunciation, might be proved from many instances; but one or two may here suffice. Hortensius, a cotemporary with Cicero, and while living next to him in repute as an orator, was highly applauded for his action. But his orations after his decease, as Quintilian affirms, (for none of them now remain,) did not appear correspondent to his reputation; from which he justly concludes, that there must have been something pleasing in his speaking, by which he gained his character, that was lost in the reading his productions. But perhaps there is scarcely a more memorable instance of this than in Cicero himself. After the death of Pom pey, when Cæsar had taken the government of Rome into his own hands, many of his acquaintance interceded with him in behalf of their relations and friends, who had been of the opposite faction in the late wars. Among others Cicero solicited for his friend Ligarius; this Tubero un derstanding, who owed Ligarius a grudge, he opposed it, and undertook to represent him to Cæsar as unworthy of his clemency. Cæsar himself was prejudiced against Ligarius; and therefore when the cause was to come before him, he calmly said, "We may venture to hear Cicero display his eloquence, for I know the person for whom he pleads to be a bad man, and an enemy to me." But Cicero, however, in the course of his oration, so worked upon the passions of Cæsar, that the emotions of his mind were very conspicuous, from the frequent alterations of his countenance. And when he came to touch upon the battle of Pharsalia, which had given Cæsar the empire of the world, he represented it in such a moving and lively manner, that Cæsar could no longer restrain himself, he was seized with such a fit of trembling, that he dropt the papers, which he held in his hand. This was the more remarkable, because Cæsar was himself one of the great est orators of that age; acquainted with all the arts of ad dress, and avenues to the passions, and consequently was the better prepared to guard against any attack on the latter. But neither his skill nor his resolution of mind was of sufficient force against the power of oratory; the conqueror of the world became a conquest to the charms of Cicero's eloquence; so that, contrary to his intention, he acceded to the plea of the orator and pardoned Ligarins. Now that oration is still extant, and appears exceedingly well calculated to touch the soft and tender passions and springs of the soul. But we believe it can scarcely be discernible to any in reading it, how it should have had such a surprising effect; which must therefore have been chiefly owing to the wonderful address and conduct of the speaker. The more natural the pronunciation is, of consequence, the more moving it will be, since the perfection of art consists in its nearest resemblance to nature. And therefore it is not without good reason, that the ancients make it one qualification of an orator, that he be a good man; because a person of this character will make the cause he espouses his own, and the more sensibly he is touched with it himself, the more natural his action will be, and by that means affect others the more casily in the same manner. Cicero speaking upon this subject says, "It is certain that truth (by which he means nature) in every thing excels imitation; but if that was sufficient of itself in action, we should have no occasion for art." In his opinion therefore (and who was a better judge?) art in this case, as well as in many others, if well managed, will assist and improve nature. But this is not all, for sometimes we find the force of it so great and powerful, that where it is wholely counterfeit, it will for the time work the same effect, as if it were founded in truth. This is well known to those who have been conversant with the représentations of the theatre. In tragedies, though we are sensible, that every thing we see and hear is counterfeit, yet such is the power of action, that we are often affected by it in the same manner, as if they were all realities. Anger and resentment at the appearance of cruelty, concern and solicitude for distrest virtute, rise in our breasts; and tears are extorted from us for opprest innocence: though at the same time perhaps we are ready to laugh at ourselves for being thus deluded. If art then has so great an influ |