the sovereign people responsible for the most irregular or flagitious decision: punishment could not take place; and, among the multitude, shame was lost."* In a state of things so deplorable, it is evident that there was nothing to distinguish the courts of justice from promiscuous popular assemblies, and nothing, therefore, to discourage or paralyze the ora

tor.

It would appear, then, that, in order to the development of the highest oratory, it must be able to exert a direct and controlling influence over public affairs. Wherever this is the case, it will be found that this art manifests itself in its most impressive, because most natural form. An oratory which aims only or chiefly at amusement and display, will of course become tame and artificial. On the other hand, let there be a demand for its nobler and sincerer efforts, and it will soon be obvious that, in oratory as in trade, demand ensures supply, We have a striking proof of this in the Aborigines of our own continent, and especially of The form of government under which these people lived, as well as their mode of conducting negotiations, served to invest their orators with great power and con* Mitford, vol. v., p. 14.

our own state.

sideration. The Indian was accustomed to go to the council-room, as the ancient Roman resorted to the Forum or the Senate-house. He witnessed there keen encounters between the choicest spirits of his race. He gathered wisdom as it fell from the lips of age and experience; and often was his heart roused, as by a trumpet-blast, to deeds of heroic daring and self-sacrifice. It is now well known, that the future orator of his tribe was required to pass through a course of training. The seclusion of some forest-retreat often resounded with his rehearsals; and even veteran speakers did not disdain careful preparation, when about to appear before hostile or critical eyes, and on important occasions. Colden, in his History of the Five Nations, assures us, that with great fluency, expressiveness, and grace, they joined much "niceness in the turn of their expressions," and yet that "few of them were such masters as never to offend their Indian auditories by an impolite expression. Their greatest speakers attained to a sort of urbanitas or atticism."

It is worthy of remark, however, that in Christian countries there is one field for eloquence, unknown in ancient times, and which may remain open even under the sway of arbi

trary princes. This is the pulpit, in which some of the most brilliant trophies of the art have been won. In the reign of Louis XIV., for instance, when eloquence was no longer heard in the halls of legislation or in popular assemblies, the churches of Paris resounded with the sublime vehemence of Bossuet, and the pathetic appeals of the Bishop of Clermont. An urgent demand for sacred oratory, in such an age and country, was the natural result of a prevailing intellectual activity, combined with keen relish for the beautiful and perfect in art, and a profound interest in the religious controversies of the time. To the same result, the peculiar constitution and spirit of the Romish Church contributed not a little. The greatest efforts of her preachers are reserved for solemn seasons, when all her ceremonies are most affecting and awful. It was then, that the monarch with his whole court paused in the midst of their intrigues and dissipations. The theatre and the salons were exchanged for the church and the confessional. The most celebrated preachers were summoned from all parts of the kingdom to the capital. A favourite sermon was commanded by authority, and announced publicly; multitudes thronged to hear, not the preacher only, but the particular discourse which had

been delivered before with the greatest applause. It must be evident that, at such a time and with such an auditory, the pulpit orator would feel that he had a great mission, and would task to the utmost all his powers to do it justice.

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