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 ORATION 
 
 ON THE 
 
 I OMPARATIV ELEMENTS AND DUTYS 
 
 OF 
 
 GRECIAN AND AMERICAN 
 
 ELOQUENCE 
 
 WITH NOTES. 
 
 BY THOMAS SMITH GRIMK^, 
 
 OF CHARLESTON, S. C. 
 
 l'rinted by Jau.M ao J Oazfay. 
 
 \ 
 
ORATION 
 
 OH 
 
 THE COMPARATIV ELEMENTS AND DUTYS 
 
 OF 
 
 GRECIAN AND AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 
 
 DELIVERD BEFORE 
 
 THE ERODELPHIAN SOCIETY 
 
 OF 
 
 MIAMI UNIVERSITY, AT OXFORD, OHIO; 
 On the 23d of September, 1834: 
 
 BEING THEIR NINTH ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION, 
 WITH NOTES, 
 
 BY THOMAS SMITH GRIMKE, ^-m** 
 
 OF CHARLESTON, S. C. 
 
 4 
 
 \ 
 
 ' 
 
 This soil 
 
 Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold; 
 Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise 
 
 Magnificence. " 
 
 Par. Lost, B. 2, v. 270. 
 
 CINCINNATI: 
 
 TRUMAN AND SMITH. 
 
 1834. 
 
& 
 
 *%f 
 
 i>«r n,J nt6rd accordin g t0 act of Congress, in the year 1834, 
 BY THE ERODELPHIAN SOCIETY OF MIAMI UNIVERSITY 
 In the Clerk's office of the District Court of Ohio. 
 
 Printed by James and Gazlay, 
 
 No. 1, Baker street, 
 
 Cincinnati. 
 
Erodelphian Hall, September 24, 1834. 
 Esteemed Sir, — 
 
 The Erodelphian Society, through us, their organs, desire to 
 express their gratitude for the eloquent oration delivered by yourself 
 on their behalf, and respectfully request the favor of a copy for publi- 
 cation. Please accept from the Society their warmest wishes for your 
 welfare and happiness. May the cause of Christian American Lite- 
 rature in which your heart is so fervently engaged, succeed under 
 ypur hands, and answer your most ardent hopes. 
 Yours, with great regard, 
 
 B. S. LEATHERS, 
 
 W. B. CALDWELL, T Committee of 
 
 W. B. WOODRUFF, f Erodelphian Society. 
 N. WATKINS. 
 
 >\ 
 
 Oxford, ZAth September, 1834. 
 
 Gentlemen, — 
 
 Your communication of this date, requesting on behalf of the 
 Erodelphian Society, a copy of my oration of yesterday, has been 
 receivd. I accede to your request, on the same principle of duty upon 
 which I accepted the appointment, regarding the opportunity thus 
 afforded me, rather as a privilege granted, than as an honor conferd. 
 I trust that the spirit of duty and usefulness, which guided and ani- 
 mated me in the composition of the Address, may be found to breathe 
 thro' its pages : and to render it an acceptable offering, in the cause 
 of Christian American Eloquence. Accept, gentlemen, my best 
 wishes for the prosperity and usefulness of the Society ; and for 
 yourselves, the kindest regards of 
 
 Yours, respectfully and with esteem, 
 
 THOMAS S. GRIMKE. 
 
MEMORANDUM. 
 
 Having been long satisfy'd, that the orthography of the English lan- 
 guage not only admitted but requir'd a reform ; and believing it my 
 duty to act on this conviction, I hav publishd sevral pamphlets accord- 
 ingly. I felt that speculation on the propriety of the change was of 
 little avail, without practice. I therefore resolvd to set the example, at 
 the hazard of ridicule and censure: and the charge of caprice or sin- 
 gularity. The changes in this piece consist chiefly, if not wholly of 
 the following. (1) The silent e is omitted in such classes of words as 
 disciplin, respit, believ, creativ, publishd, remaind, evry, sevral, volly. 
 (2) The e issuppressd and an apostrophe substituted, after the manner 
 of the poets, where the simple omission of the e might change the 
 sound of the preceding vowel from long to short, as in required, re- 
 jiri'd, derived. (3) In nouns ending in y, I hav simply added an s to 
 make the plural, instead of changing y into ie and then adding an s, 
 as in pluralitys, enmitys, harmonys, aristocracys. (4) In verbs ending 
 in the letter y, instead of changing it into ie, and then adding an s> 
 or d, I retain the y, and add s or d : as in burys, buryd, varys, varyd> 
 hurrys, hurryd. (5) In similar verbs, where the y is long, I retain the 
 y, omit the e, and substitute an apostrophe, like the poets ; as in mul- 
 tiply's, multiply'd, satisfy's, satisfy'd. (6) In such words as sceptre, 
 battle, centre, I transpose the e, and write scepter, battel, center. (7) 
 I suppress one of two and the same consonants, where the accent is 
 not on them : as in necesary , excelent, iluslrious, recomend, efectual, 
 iresistible, worshipers. (8) In such words as honor, favor, savior, 
 neighbor, savor, the u is omitted. (9) In adjectives ending in y, instead 
 of forming the comparativ and superlativ by changing y into ie and 
 adding er, and est, I hav retaind the y, and hav simply added the 
 er and est, as in easyer, easyest, holyer, holycst, pretty er, pretty est. 
 
 In quotations and proper names, I hav not felt calld upon to change 
 the orthography. 
 
ORATION 
 
 Man, the noblest work of God in this lower world, walks 
 abroad thro' its labyrinths of grandeur and beauty, amid count- 
 less manifestations of creativ power and providential wisdom. 
 He acknowleges in all that he beholds, the might which calld 
 them into being; the skill which perfected the harmony of the 
 parts; and the benevolence which consecrated all to the glory 
 of God, and the welfare of his fellow creatures. He stands 
 entranced on the peak of Etna, or TenerifFe, or Montserrat, 
 and looks down upon the far distant ocean, silent to his ear and 
 tranquil to his eye, amidst the rushing of tempestuous winds, 
 and the fierce conflict of stormy billows. He sits enrapturd 
 on the mountain summit, and beholds, as far as the eye can 
 reach, a forest robe, flowing in all the varietys of graceful undu- 
 lation, over declivity after declivity, as tho' the fabulous river 
 of the sky's* were pouring its azure waves o'er all the landskip. 
 He hangs over the precipice and gazes with awful delight on the 
 savage glen, rent open as it were by the earthquake, and black 
 with lightning shatterd rocks; its only music the echoing thun- 
 der, the scream of the lonely eagle, and the tumultuous waters 
 of the mountain torrent. He reclines in pensiv mood on the hill 
 top, and sees around and beneath him, all the luxuriant beautys 
 of field and meadow, of olivyard and vinyard, of wandering 
 stream and grove-encircled lake. He descends to the plain, 
 and amidst waving harvests, verdant avenues and luxuriant 
 orchards, sees between garden and grassplat, the farm house 
 embosomd in copswood or " tall ancestral trees." He walks 
 thro' the vally, fenced in by barrier cliffs, to contemplate with 
 mild'enthusiasm its scenes of pastoral beauty, the cottage and 
 its blossomd arbor, the shepherd and his flock, the clump of 
 
 * Note A. 
 
oaks, or the solitary willow. He enters the cavern, buryd far 
 beneath the surface, and is struck witli amazement at the gran- 
 deur and magnificence of a subteranean palace, hewn out as it 
 were by the power of the Genii, and decorated by the taste of 
 Armida, or, the Queen of the Fairys. 
 
 Such is the natural world, and such for the most part, has it 
 ever been; since men began to subdue the wilderness, to scat- 
 ter the ornaments of civilization amid the rural scenery of 
 nature, and to plant the city on the margin of the deep, the 
 village on the hillside, and martial battelments in the defiles of 
 the mountains. Such has been the natural world, whether 
 beheld by the eye of savage, or barbarian, of the civiliz'd, or 
 the refin'd. Such has it been for the most part, whether con- 
 templated by the harpers of Greece, the bards of Northern 
 Europe, or the voluptuous minstrels of the Traubadour age. 
 Such it was, when its beautys like scatterd stars, beamd on 
 the page of classic lore: and such, when its "sunshine of pic- 
 ture" pourd a flood of meridian splendor on moden Literature.* 
 Such is the natural world to the ancient and the modern, the 
 pagan and the christian. 
 
 Admirable as the natural world is for its sublimity and 
 beauty, who would compare it, even for an instant, with the 
 sublimity and beauty of the moral world? Is not the soul, 
 with its glorious destiny and its capacities for eternal happiness, 
 more awful and majestic, than the boundless Pacific, or the in- 
 terminable Andes? Is not the mind, with its thoughts that wan- 
 der through eternity, and its wealth of inteleclual power, an 
 object of more in tens interest, than forest or cataract, or pre- 
 cipice? And the heart, so eloquent in the depth, purity anci 
 pathos of its afections, can the richest scenery of hill and dale, 
 can the melody of breeze, and brook, and bird, rival it in lov'- 
 lincss? 
 
 The same God is the author of the invisible, and the visi- 
 ble world. The moral grandeur and beauty of the world of 
 man are cqualy the children of his wisdom, power and goodness 
 with the fair, the sublime, the wonderful in the physical crea- 
 tion. What indeed are these but the outward manifestations 
 
 * Noto B. 
 
of his might, skill, and benevolence? What are they but a 
 glorious volume, forever speaking to the eye and the ear of 
 man, in the language of sight and sound, the praises of its 
 author? And what are those, but images, faint and imperfect 
 as they are, of his own incomprehensible attributes ? What 
 are they, the soul, the mind, the heart of an immortal being; 
 but the temple of the Holy Spirit, the dwelling place of Him, 
 whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain, who inhabiteth 
 eternity ? How then can we compare even for a moment, the 
 world of nature with the world of man ? God has bestowd 
 upon man all the gifts of his natural providence, whether for 
 enjoyment or admiration: and the gift is as free, as rich, as 
 various, in the modern, as it was in the ancient world. And 
 has he not granted to that modern world, the more precious, 
 elevated, enduring gifts of the mind, as bountifuly as to the 
 ancients ? Does man in the modern world, come forth from the 
 hands of his Creator inferior in the endowments of his immor- 
 tal spirit, to man in the ancient world? We know that the 
 ancient world in all the material forms of the visible creation, 
 was not superior to the same exhibitions of the Divine Being 
 in the modern world.* And shall we believ that the same 
 Father of all, for purposes inscrutable to the human mind, has 
 made the modern man inferior to the ancient man ? Let him 
 believ it, who credits the absurd theory of European philosophy, 
 that nature is degenerate in America. Let him believ it, 
 who prefers the monstrous compounds of aristocracy and de- 
 mocracy in the Grecian states, to the order and simplicity of 
 our American republics. Let him believ it, who worships the 
 idol of classic supremacy, and consoles himself for the degra- 
 dation of modern genius, by the creed, that God has ordaind 
 the modern inferior to the ancient mind. For myself, until I 
 can believ that the starry sky ? s are less magnificent, the moun- 
 tain less majestic, and the volcano less terrible, to the modern 
 than to the ancient eye — until I can believ, that the wild music 
 of the ocean waves, the frantic rush of the cataract, the melody 
 of summer gale and babbling brook, speak not to the modern 
 ear in the thrilling eloquence in which they spoke to the an- 
 cient ear — until I can believ these things, still may I hold 
 
 *Note C. 
 
inflexibly the faith, that the modern mind, thro' all its depart- 
 ments of intelect, duty and afection, is not in the least inferior 
 to the ancient. 
 
 This is the first broad position in the great controversy, as 
 to the relativ merits of the Ancients and Moderns. I do not 
 however, propose at this time, to address you on a subject of 
 far greater importance than has been hitherto realiz'd: and 
 demanding for its perfect development the hand of genius 
 learning, and taste. The day will come, when a master mind 
 shall arise in its might, and may America be the scene of this 
 achievment of scholarship and patriotism, and challenge for the 
 moderns that superiority in Literature, which I doubt as little, 
 as I doubt their superiority, in all that belongs to the structure 
 and administration of government. For myself, I shall rest 
 satisfy'd at this time, with presenting for your consideration, one 
 of the subdivisions of that momentous and interesting topic. 
 I trust the choice will be approv'd by the audience I address? 
 and by the Society whose voice has conferd on me the privi- 
 lege of honoring their anniversary by such a selection. The 
 subject then, which invites your attention is — "A Comparison 
 of the Elements and Dutys of Grecian and American Elo- 
 quence." I hav not mentiond Roman Eloquence; because it is 
 unquestionably inferior to that of Greece, in the noblest constit- 
 uents of oratory: and besides, Greece presents richer and more 
 various topics, and breathes more of the nature and spirit of 
 free institutions. May I be excused for the apparent presump- 
 tion of such a selection. I am not insensible to the magnitude 
 and difficulty of the task; but I trust that the deficiencys of 
 the scholar may be aton'd for by the zeal and lov' of the 
 patriot. I feel that the subject I hav chosen, belongs to the 
 holy department of duty to my country, and is linkd as by the 
 bonds of fate, with her destiny, influence, and glory, thro' many 
 a century, yet to come. O ! my country, thou richest gift of 
 God to man, pre-eminent in the institutions, which honor heaven, 
 and bless mankind, light and hope of the nations, 
 
 may thy renown 
 
 Burn in my heart, and give to thought and word, 
 Th' aspiring and the radiant hue of fire. 1 ' 
 
 Samor, B. 1. p. 10. 
 
9 
 
 The natural order of our subject leads us to consider first, the 
 ingredients and dutys of Grecian Oratory, and next, the ele- 
 ments and obligations of American Eloquence. This second 
 division will afford us the opportunity of making that compar- 
 ison, which is a chief object of this Address. How amply shall 
 I be rewarded by the reflection, that I shall hav opend to 
 the youthful students of eloquence among my countrymen, 
 more animating views of their resources, a higher estimate of 
 their dutys, and a prospect more glorious than patriot of an- 
 cient or modern times ever beheld, down the vista of future 
 ages. i 
 
 I hav assum'd as undoubted, the perfect equality of the 
 modern to the ancient, in the intelectual powers of the mind, 
 the moral qualitys of the soul, and the afections of the heart. 
 In the orator himself, these are obviously the instruments with 
 which he is to work: and in the particular persons whom he 
 addresses, they are, as it were, the very chords of the lyre of 
 eloquence. These advantages are common both to the ancient 
 and modern speaker; altho' the latter has this privilege, be- 
 yond the former, that the moral qualitys of the soul and the 
 afections of the heart hav been carryd to a degree of cultiva- 
 tion, far exceeding their state among the ancients; whilst, at 
 the same time, a greater variety of human character offers 
 itself, for the study of the modern, than the ancient ever beheld. 
 It will be a principal object of the following pages, not only to 
 demonstrate, as I think can be easily done, the decided superi- 
 ority of modern over ancient eloquence in the quality of its 
 materials, but likewise to show that the ingredients of the 
 former are more numerous and various than those of the latter.. 
 Perhaps, it may be said, that this very fact constitutes one of 
 the chief proofs of the necessary inferiority of modern elo- 
 quence. I shall be told that learning is not essential to the 
 orator, and that the fate of learned eloquence must be that of 
 Ronsard, the most erudite of French poets, no longer read, 
 tho' still honord with the title, "Prince of the Poets of France.^ 
 I grant that where learning becomes the substantial form, in- 
 stead of the drapery of the statue, it must fail in its end, just 
 as the Theseus of Euphranor stood condemn'd; because the hero 
 appeard , from the delicacy and richness of the painting, to hav 
 2 
 
10 
 
 livd on roses. I admit that good taste must censure,* where a 
 poet like Milton, in the greatest poem of all ages, scatters 
 learning on every leaf, as 
 
 " the gorgeous East with richest hand, 
 
 Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold." 
 
 Par. Lost, B. 2, v. 3. 
 
 But I speak not of learning in the sense in which Milton has 
 displayd it. I speak of various, valuable, interesting knowlege; 
 of knowlege that invigorates and enlarges the mind: that en- 
 riches tne memory with a store of admirable allusions and stri- 
 king illustrations; that expands and elevates the sense of duty; 
 and refines, while it purify's and strengthens the afections. I 
 speak of that knowlege which is not so much studyd to be 
 rememberd, as to master all the principles which are involvd 
 in it. I speak not of that knowlege, which is treasured up 
 simply as facts; but of that which, having been developd in 
 all its relations, enters as it were into the very structure of the 
 mind, enhances its facultys of thought, improv's the disciplin of 
 its intelectual powers, and enlarges its comprehensivness. — 
 Such knowlege does not make the learned orator; but gives us 
 a speaker of consummate wisdom, power, and skill. Nor let 
 us forget, that altho' a profusion of knowlege overpowers and 
 misleads an inferior mind, just as Draco was smotherd by the 
 garments thrown in honor upon him; yet the superior mind, 
 instead of being the slave, is the master of its knowlege. It is 
 not the mirror to reflect objects; but the crucible to decompose 
 materials, and the mold to fashion them anew, in countless 
 varietys of novel, beautiful and useful forms. Such is the office 
 of the modern orator, in regard to his superiority over the 
 ancient, in the number and variety of his resources: and if he 
 discharge that office in a manner worthy of its dignity and 
 value, he shall ascend, being equal in mind, to bights of glory 
 and excelence unattaind by Grecian or Roman Eloquence. 
 
 Let us now proceed to consider the elements of Grecian 
 Eloquence. The orator of Athens, endowd like his modern 
 rival, with intelect, moral sense and feeling, sought for the 
 materials of his art, in the religious, political, and civil institu- 
 
 *Note D. 
 
11 
 
 tions of his country; in the state of society; in the actual con- 
 dition of philosophy, literature, and general knowlege; in the 
 history of his own and other states; in the biography of distin- 
 guished men both at home and abroad, and in the relations of 
 his own to other countrys. 
 
 The first of these ingredients is religion. Whatever may 
 be thought of the merits of Grecian mythology, as materials 
 for poetry,* it is manifest that it furnishes very inferior ele- 
 ments to the orator. As a system, if system such a mass of 
 the absurd and the immoral, of folly and indecency, can be 
 calld, it has nothing to do with the understanding, or the heart, 
 or the conscience. It is a scheme, as complete as ever was 
 devis'd to brutalize the heart, darken the conscience, and de- 
 grade the mind. Its only hold on popular opinion was that of 
 prejudice, and superstition. Its only claim on the highly educa- 
 ted was deriv'd from the fact that it was a national institution; 
 but over them it exercised no salutary influence. It musthav 
 degraded in their eyes even the imperfect conceptions of the 
 character and attributes of God, deriv'd from the light of na- 
 ture. I envy not the Grecian orator such materials. 
 
 The civil and political institutions of the country were an- 
 other source, whence Athenian eloquence drew its elements. 
 Undoubtedly we do not understand the structure and adminis- 
 tation of ancient governments as well as our own: and the 
 great deficiency of the classic historians, in the political philos- 
 ophy of government, and the broader and deeper philosophy 
 of society, has contributed not a little to enhance the difficulty. 
 Still, the enlightend common sense of evry American rejects 
 the civil and political institutions of Athens; because he be- 
 holds in her history countless proofs of the irregularity and 
 insufficiency of their action. The chief element to be found 
 in them, fitted to afect the orator, was developd in the wild 
 licentiousness of their democracy, equaly unprincipled, degra- 
 ding, and violent; equaly markd by insolence, tyrany, and 
 ingratitude. Shall we envy such an element of Athenian 
 eloquence ? 
 
 The state of society in Ancient Greece must hav exercis'd 
 a large influence over the orator. Yet who would desire to 
 
 *Note E. 
 
12 
 
 place American eloquence under the dominion of such a state 
 of things 1 unless he could prevail on himself to adopt a system 
 in which children were considered as the property of gods, 
 cruel, unjust, and licentious, or the property of their country 
 chiefly for the purposes of war; while woman was regarded as 
 a prisoner for life, if not as a slave; and her accomplishments 
 of mind and manners were reservd for the courtezan, for 
 Aspasia, Phyrne, and Thais ? May such characteristics of their 
 state of society remain unenvy'd monuments of the barbarism 
 even of polishd Greece? 
 
 The actual condition of phiolsophy, literature, and general 
 knowlege, is a principal fund of eloquence. But among the 
 Athenians, philosophy could hav exercis'd but a limited influ- 
 ence; because their orators either preceded, or were cotempo- 
 raneous with the great schools of antiquity. As to Literature, 
 it is obvious, that with the exception of a few prose writers, 
 the only authors, who could hav had any decided efect on the 
 character of eloquence, were the poets. Without lavishing on 
 them the extravagant praise so often bestowd, it is manifest 
 that the tragic writers, especialy, must hav contributed much 
 to the dignity, vigor, and pathos of the orator; while comedy 
 enlarg'd and diversifi'd his knowlege of human nature. With 
 respect to the department of general knowlege, we know from 
 the state of the arts and sciences, and from the very humble 
 and imperfect condition of geography, navigation, and travels, 
 that a man possessd of no more general information than the 
 most enlightened Athenian, would be regarded as narrow mind- 
 ed, and comparativly ignorant among the moderns. 
 
 How imperfect must hav been the knowlege of history, both 
 foreign and domestic, may be seen at once from the fact, that 
 Greece had no prose writer before Pherecydes, the predecessor 
 of Herodotus in history; the Athenians themselves acknowlegd 
 that they had no political records prior to Draco, (B. C. 624:) 
 and the laws of Solon (B. C. 559) were preservd on blocks 
 of wood. Ascending, for want of authentic antiquitys, to 
 the fabulous ages of gods and demigods, of giants, heros, 
 and monsters, Grecian history could hav exercis'd but a lim- 
 ited influence over the orator. And when it is considerd to 
 how great an extent the politics of Greece were stampd by 
 
 X 
 
13 
 
 fraud and violence, by rapin, ambition, and injustice, we see 
 that however much they may hav influencd eloquence, we at 
 least, hav no reason to covet a dominion over the mind, so base 
 and selfish. "When it is remembefd, also, that the history of 
 Greece is almost wholly a narrativ of civil and foreign wars* 
 of domestic oppression, insolence, and dissension ; that it consists 
 so entirely of facts, with such imperfect developments of the 
 character and action of civil and political institutions, we can- 
 not but regard it as barren, compar'd to the works of Hume, 
 Gibbon, Robertson, and Mosheim. 
 
 The department of biography was far more perfect than 
 that of history. Indeed the greater portion of ancient history 
 is little more than a succession of biographys of public men : 
 nor would it be difficult to write the whole of ancient history in 
 such a succession. There can be no stronger proof how unwor- 
 thy national annals are of the name of history : when nearly 
 the whole history of a people is found in the lives of a series 
 of warriors. Is not history in such a case the degraded slave 
 of biography ? So far as the political biography of Greece 
 was known, and it was, as we hav seen, coextensiv with her 
 history, we cannot doubt that it must hav exercis'd a large 
 influence over ancient eloquence. But then it was the influence, 
 with few exceptions, of the proud and selfish, of the ambitious, 
 turbulent, and vindictiv, of the warrior and conqueror. Dives- 
 ted of the poetic drapery which classic literature, and our 
 imaginations hav cast around them, the great men of Greece 
 are not superior, in the elements of magnanimity, truth, and 
 justice; of patriotism, sagacity, valor, and fortitude, to the North 
 American Indian. I feel that I do not degrade Athenian and 
 Spartan chiefs by the comparison. I only elevate the Indian 
 character to its true level. How little reason the modern 
 orator has to envy such resources, must be known to all, who 
 are acquainted,- to name no other, with the single history of the 
 Saracens. 
 
 The relations of his own to other countrys were very limited 
 and imperfect. It must hav been so, when we consider that 
 the Grecian states never had any relations with Carthage, and 
 none with the Romans, of any consequence, till they became 
 Roman provinces. It was the same with the countrys in Asia, 
 
u 
 
 as to which nearly all their relations arose out of selfish and 
 ambitious wars, juet it be rememberd, also, that commerce 
 and navigation were confin'd almost exclusivly to the Mediter- 
 ranean, and indeed, as far as Greece was concernd, to the Si- 
 cilian, Ionian, and Egean seas, and to the Levant. Certainly 
 the influences deriv'd from such imperfect and narrow foreign 
 relations, could not hav much enlargd the soul or fir'd the genius 
 of ancient eloquence. 
 
 Such are the chief materials with which the Grecian orator 
 had to work : and any one tolerably acquainted with the mod- 
 ern world must acknowlege, even without a formal comparison, 
 that they are greatly inferior to the correspondent elements 
 possessd by the modern orator. How then, shall I be askd, 
 has it come to pass, that, in the general estimation of the mod- 
 erns themselves, he is inferior to the ancient speaker ? I accept 
 the suggestion, for the purpos of giving the conclusiv reply; 
 a reply which demonstrates, beyond controversy, that if the 
 modern be inferior to the ancient, he has only to imitate the 
 example of the ancient, and he shall ascend to hights of elo- 
 quence as far above Athenian oratory, as the summits of the 
 Andes transcend the Pindus, and Ossa, and Olympus of classic 
 regions. 
 
 And what is the secret of ancient eloquence? It is to be 
 found here, that the ancient orator was subjected, from the 
 cradle, to the full, undivided, never-varying influence of the pecu- 
 liar institutions of ins own country, and of his own age. 
 The spirit of those institutions was forever living and moving 
 around him; was constantly acting upon him at home and 
 abroad; in the family, at the school, in the temple, on national 
 occasions. That spirit was unceasingly speaking to his eye 
 and ear: it was his very breath of life: his soul was its habita- 
 tion; till the battel field, or the sea, banishment, the dungeon, 
 or the hemlock, stripd him equaly of his country and his life. 
 Is it wonderful that the Greek was eloquent? Our wonder 
 would rather be, if we did not know his deficiency in materials, 
 that lie was not still more eloquent. Turn now to Rome* 
 How striking is the contrast between the Athenian and recorded 
 Roman eloquence! The paralel for Grecian oratory must be 
 sought in the age of the Gracchi. Then, the spirit of Roman 
 
 I 
 
15 
 
 institutions livd and mov'd with a fearful energy, derivd from 
 the threefold combination of a proud aristocracy, a turbulent 
 democracy, and the warlike character of the people. If we 
 had the speeches of Tiberius and Caius Gracchus, I doubt not 
 that, except in style, they would not be at all inferior to the 
 most celebrated harangues of Grecian orators. But in the age 
 of Tully, the spirit of Roman institutions had perishd. Who 
 does not realize this in the artificial declamatory eloquence of 
 the Roman. And altho' at times he appeald to it for strength 
 and light, yet the coming of that indignant spirit at his call, was 
 like the reluctant appearance of Samuel to Saul at Endor. 
 Tully's eloquence is but an inscription on the monument of that 
 departed spirit. It is the faint, distant echo of his voice, not 
 the voice of that living spirit so aptly pourtrayd in the striking 
 verses of Milman. 
 
 " Him delighted 
 
 Helvellyn's cloud-capt brow to climb, and share 
 
 The eagle's stormy solitude : mid wreck 
 
 Of whirlwinds and dire lightnings huge he stood; 
 
 Where his own gods he deem'd, on volleying clouds 
 
 Abroad were riding, and black hurricane." 
 
 Samor, B. 2, p. 36. 
 
 We hav thus presented the true cause of the excelence of 
 Grecian eloquence. How is it with the modern orator, 
 whether in England or America? Whence arises his alegd 
 inferiority? For myself I admit no such inferiority; for I doubt 
 not that the best speakers, both of England and America, hav 
 already surpassd the boasted orators of the Athenians.* But 
 why hav not the modern orators been still more eminent? 
 The answer is to be found in the revers of the fact, which con- 
 stitutes the secret of Grecian success. They hav not been 
 yielded up from infancy to the pure, undivided, unceasing influ- 
 ence of British and American institutions. On the contrary, 
 the prime of life, for the acquisition of knowlege and the forma- 
 tion of character, is passd in breathing the spirit of Greek and 
 Roman institutions, and in familiarizing the mind and heart with 
 the principles and sentiments of ancient states of society. The 
 genius of Christianity and of the peculiar political institutions of 
 
 *Note F. 
 
16 
 
 England and America form, during all this time, scarcely any 
 part of his education. Hence, the young man, if he has been 
 faithful to his classical studys, actually knows more, so far as 
 depends on the school and college, of Greek and Roman than of 
 English or American history,. biography, and literature. As far 
 as depends on his public education, he is better fitted to be a 
 Roman or Athenian citizen, than a British subject or an Amer- 
 ican citizen. I do not believ that I state these views too 
 strongly, confining my remarks simply to the system of public 
 education. Shall the time never come? when the American 
 shall no longer be bound an apprentice in boyhood, and youth, 
 and early manhood, to the spirit of institutions breathing only 
 war and carnage, ambition and selfishness, and all the caprice, 
 ingratitude and insolence of popular licentiousness? When 
 shall the genius of American institutions, hitherto deny'd both 
 the duty and authority of a parent, be admitted to the sacred, 
 the precious office of folding his children to his bosom, and of 
 filling them with his own spirit of life, and light, and love? 
 When shall that genius, mighty to bless and to save those chil- 
 dren, rescue them from that bondage to ancient, foreign, pagan, 
 licentious institutions, and publish to the world, that noblest 
 Declaration of American Independence. Let but that genius 
 arise and proclaim the glad tidings of Christian, American 
 liberty in evry school-house, academy, and college throughout 
 the land, and the children of that day shall produce an order of 
 eloquence more vigorous and comprehensiv, richer, purer, and 
 more dignify'd, than Athenian, or even a modern audience has 
 ever heard. Then shall the voice of a truly national eloquence, 
 instinct with the life of Christian and American institutions, 
 be listend to in the halls of legislation and popular assemblys, 
 from the pulpit and in courts of justice. That spirit, the essence 
 of Christian and American institutions, shall fill the soul of the 
 orator with her glorious presence, reveald in the power, and 
 purity, and majesty of his thoughts. 
 
 u She clothes him with authority and awe, 
 Speaks from his lips, and in his looks gives law : 
 His speech, his form, his action full of grace, 
 And all his country beaming in his face." 
 
 Couper, p. 23, Table Talk. 
 
17 
 
 We hav thus considerd the reasons why ancient eloquence 
 must hav attaind a high degree of perfection; and we hav 
 explaind the causes of the aleged inferiority of the modern* 
 Let us now pass on to the Elements of American Eloquence : 
 comparing them, in our progress, with those of Athenian 
 oratory. 
 
 Doubtless you all anticipate that I should name, as first in 
 power and value, the Christian Religion, with the Old and 
 New Testaments as text-books. The mountaineer enjoys firmer 
 health, and more elastic spirits than the lowlander; because he 
 breathes a purer air, whilst all the powers of his physical sys- 
 tem are calld to more vigorous constant action. Such is Chris- 
 tianity compar'd to the mythology of Greece. Will it not 
 be granted, that the more sublime, comprehensiv and enduring 
 a religion is, the more it must be fitted to elevate, expand, and 
 invigorate the soul of the orator ? The more a religion is pure, 
 holy, beautiful, tender, the better must it be suited to draw out 
 of the depths of the heart, all the sweetness, lov', and pathos, 
 which inhabit there. The more it chalenges the scrutiny of 
 all our mental powers, and the more it leads us onward, from 
 hight to hight, in endless succession, the more it must be cal- 
 culated to breathe into the soul a masculin energy of thought, 
 a fearless lov' of independence, and a spirit of investigation, 
 never to be intimidated or subdued. How eminently is the 
 religion of the Bible intelectual, spiritual, lov'ly, pathetic ! How 
 eloquent in its views of life, and death, and eternity! How 
 transcendently eloquent, when it speaks of the character and 
 attributes of Jehovah; of the adorable and spotless Lamb of 
 God; of the ruin and redemption of man; of the spirits of just 
 men made perfect; of the inumerable company of angels; 
 and of a new heaven and a new earth! Who will not ac- 
 kaowlege, that the Institutes of Moses contain more consum- 
 mate wisdom, more admirable common sense, than all the legis- 
 lators and political writers of ancient Greece aford? Who 
 will not grant, that in the book of Job alone, there is more of 
 the moral and intelectual sublime, more of purifying, elevating 
 sentiment, than in the whole body of Grecian poetry? And 
 who will venture to deny, that in the single gospel of John, 
 religion is exhibited with a power, depth, beauty, and persua- 
 3 
 
18 
 
 sivness, such as the concenterd essence of all the moral philos- 
 ophy of Greece and Rome can never approach? 
 
 In contemplating this element of American eloquence, we 
 cannot but remark, that the whole body of Grecian literature 
 seems, as it were, a beacon provided by our Creator to teach 
 us how utterly insufficient the light of nature is, to purify and 
 enoble the soul, even with the aid of profound intelect, splen- 
 did genius; and accomplishd taste. Does it not seem as tho' 
 Greece was ordaind, with all the advantages of an insulated 
 position; of a charming climate; of sublime and beautiful sce- 
 nery; of a mythology with much of the grand and the fair; 
 and of institutions comparativly free, to demonstrate how far 
 the literature even of such a people, must be inferior to a lite- 
 rature descended from heaven! And what a striking proof of 
 the divinity of the Scriptures is aforded by the fact, that such 
 a people as the Jews, such a land as Canaan, so inferior in na- 
 tural advantages to the Greeks and their country, should hav 
 produced, in the Old Testament, a body of political and theo- 
 logical institutes, of historical, poetical, and moral literature, 
 far beyond all that had been accomplishd by Greece. Her 
 literature is perfectly explicable by a reference to her history. 
 Hebrew literature, on the contrary, if regarded as human, is 
 an utterly inexplicable phenomenon, in the history of the hu- 
 man race. 
 
 It is this literature, with the Christian Testament, that we 
 desire to hav laid, not merely as the corner stone, but as the 
 entire foundation of American Eloquence. On this basis stand 
 our civil and political, and all our literary, benevolent and so- 
 cial institutions. * So far as they breathe a Christian spirit, 
 they are worthy of the Rock of Ages on which they rest: so 
 far as they are unworthy, they must and will be reformd. Now, 
 what is the spirit of the civil and political institutions of Amer- 
 ica? Is it not free, magnanimous, and wise, frank and courte- 
 ous, generous and just, in a degree far surpassing that of an- 
 cient Greece? Who would suffer, much less institute a com- 
 parison, between our national government and the council of 
 Amphyction? or between our state systems, and the compound 
 
 * Note G. 
 
19 
 
 of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy, to be found in the 
 Grecian states? If the Athenian orator was kindled by the 
 contemplation of that council, and of those states, how much 
 more must the American orator be animated and strengthend 
 by the study of the corresponding institutions of these United 
 States! As fountains of noble thoughts, and high aspirations 
 after public power, duty, and happiness, far beyond the tri- 
 umphs of antiquity, who does not look with a virtuous pride, 
 with grateful exultation? on the senate of the United States, 
 on the chamber of national representatives, and on the su- 
 preme court of the United Stales? If the system of the Gre- 
 cian exceld that of other ancient states, in its fitness to develop 
 intelectual and moral freedom and power, who will not ac- 
 knowlege, in the civil and political institutes of our country, a 
 far superior capacity for the same ends? What is there in the 
 constitution or administration of the Greek governments, that 
 can fill the soul of a freeman with such a sense of his own dig- 
 nity, power, and duty, as our written constitutions, the jury 
 system, and the laws of evidence, the scheme of representa- 
 tion, the responsibility of rulers, and the independence of the 
 judiciary? And what, in the most glorious age of Greece, was 
 comparable to the present position of our country? so august, 
 magnanimous, and benevolent, in the eyes of the world: and 
 to the prospect before us, not of selfishness, ambition, and vio- 
 lence, at home and abroad; but of harmony, virtue, and wis- 
 dom at home; abroad, of duty, usefulness, and lov' to all the 
 nations of the earth. 
 
 The literary institutions of our country are, as yet, but an 
 embryo, in comparison of what they must become, to be wor- 
 thy of, and suitable to the nation. We cannot but observ how 
 the struggle to maintain, in all our seminarys, a foreign and pa- 
 gan influence, against the rightful dominion of Christian and 
 American institutions, is leading a multitude to think, who never 
 thought before of the subject, and is gradually producing salu- 
 tary changes. This great controversy, which may be consid- 
 ered asjust begun, is itself a rich source of the noblest thoughts 
 which belong to the department of duty to God, of usefulness 
 to our country, and of benevolence to all mankind. How 
 comprehensiv, how solemn is the position, "The whole system 
 
20 
 of Education is destindto undergo an American Revolution, 
 
 IN A HIGHER AND HOLIER SENSE OF THE TERM, THAN THAT OF '76, BY 
 THE SUBSTITUTION OF A COMPLETE CHRISTIAN, AMERICAN EDUCA- 
 TION FOR THE STRANGE AND ANOMALOUS COMPOUND OF THE SPIRIT 
 OF ANCIENT, FOREIGN, HEATHEN STATES OF SOCIETY, WITH THE 
 GENIUS OF MODERN, AMERICAN, CHRISTIAN INSTITUTIONS." 
 
 Can we pass unnotic'd the benevolent institutions of our 
 country? Who is not proud that Christian America exhibits 
 such a vast and complicated system of charitable operations? 
 calculated to exert on society a regenerativ influence, far more 
 powerful, pure, and virtuous, than the combin'd action of all 
 the ancient systems. If the development of a power to en- 
 lighten and direct the conscience, to soften and purify the afec- 
 tions, to banish vice and crime, to establish peace, justice, and 
 concord; be adapted to fill the soul with sublime thoughts, with 
 generous sentiments, with lov'ly feelings, who will deny that 
 our system of benevolent enterprise is a fountain of the richest 
 and noblest eloquence? I should rejoice to see that system 
 become, as it one day must, a department of all education; 
 for who, in a Christian land, is absolvd from the obligation of 
 aiding with his voice and his pen, his wealth, influence, and 
 example, the cause of Christian enterprise, in all its forms. 
 Fix the eye, with the intensness of an eagle's gaze, on ancient 
 Greece, and what can you discover there, comparable in the 
 magnitude of its objects, and the benevolence of its principles, 
 in usefulness, durability, and comprehensivness, to the Great 
 Cause, whose circle, co-extensiv with the world, embraces the 
 Bible and Tract, Missionarys and Sunday-schools, Temper- 
 ance, Education, and Peace. From such fountains, what 
 melody of pure and bright waters must pour all the music of 
 eloquence into the very soul of the orator? 
 
 I shall speak but of one of our social institutions — the condi- 
 tion of woman in Christian America. Look at her in Greece, 
 and then in our country. Which shall eloquence select as a 
 theme? Let the barreness of ancient literature in female char- 
 acter give the answer. Could it be otherwise? when the wo- 
 man of ancient Greece, if virtuous, was the slave of her pa- 
 rents and the captiv of her husband. To compare the poetry, 
 the eloquence, the literature, which has sprung in modern times 
 
21 
 
 from the character and influence of woman, with the same in 
 antiquity, would be to compare the starry heavens to the flower 
 enameld meadow. The works of Scott, alone, exhibit a greater 
 variety of the grand, the pathetic, the beautiful, in female char- 
 acter, than all the classic writers of antiquity. We desire to 
 see the dignity and value, the lov'liness and purity of female char- 
 acter, made a branch of education for both sexes. Breathe 
 into the souls of the young, high and holy thoughts of the wife, 
 mother, daughter, sister. Kindle in their minds an admiration 
 of the educated woman. Thrill their hearts with gratitude, 
 and dew their eys with tears, at the fidelity, fortitude, and ten- 
 derness of woman, and you will hav done more for the glory 
 of God, and for the happiness and civilization of mankind, than 
 all the classics could ever accomplish. And what eloquence 
 must arise from such a spring! How pure and rich, how beau- 
 tiful and afecting! Scatterd thro' the pages of a deep, mascu- 
 lin oratory, 
 
 "Its veins like silver shine, 
 
 Or as the chaster hue 
 Of pearls, that grace some sultan's diadem." 
 
 Curse of Kehama, 1 vol. j>. 69. 
 
 Is it wonderful then that I should mourn over the infatuation 
 which banishes the genius of our civil and political institutions, 
 of Christian benevolence, and of female character from the 
 halls of education? Still less wonderful is it! with the con- 
 ceptions which I hav of their power and value, that I should 
 regard it as a national calamity, that these fountains of an 
 eloquence far nobler, richer,better than Greece or Rome could 
 boast, should not send forth their waters, a daily draft for 
 American youth. But my consolation is that the genius of 
 Christianity and the spirit of American institutions cannot, will 
 not, always brook such an infringement of their rights, and 
 such deep injustice to their children. That genius and that 
 spirit will yet create, out of their regenerate sons, the noblest 
 speaker man has ever heard, The Christian American Orator. 
 
 The next element of American Eloquence is to be found in 
 the actual condition of philosophy, literature, and general 
 knowlege. Shall I be told that modern literature is of little 
 value to the orator; and that the elements of classic literature 
 
22 
 
 are all sufficient? Such an answer may well be given by 
 schools and colleges; since they exclude the whole of modern 
 literature from education. But, to say nothing of its extraor- 
 dinary merits, let us only consider in how many important fea- 
 tures it differs from the ancient, and we shall at once acknowl- 
 ege it to be more important; because its distinctiv features are 
 deriv'd from our modern, not from our ancient state of society. 
 The total banishment of mythological machinery, and the sub- 
 stitution either of Christianity, or of the conflict and triumph 
 of the human passions, has wrought a great change. The na- 
 tural machinery of the passions appears to hav been so little 
 understood by the ancients * that the novels of Scott exhibit a 
 greater and more splendid variety than all the classic poets. 
 Can it be deny'd that such poets must be barren, in the mate- 
 rials of eloquence, in comparison with modern writers of fic- 
 tion? And what a mighty change has been accomplishd! by 
 the adoption of the characters, sentiments, and manners of the 
 age of chivalry, instead of the coarse and insolent, the self- 
 sufficient and inhuman, the half savage and half barbarian 
 heroism of the Iliad and iEneid. Who would not blush to 
 compare the Godfrey, Tancred, and Rinaldo of Tasso, with 
 the Agamemnon, Achilles, and Ajax of Homer? or the Rogero 
 and Zerbino, the Bradamant and Marphisa of Ariosto, with the 
 iEneas, Pallas, and Camilla of Virgil? Who, as he travels 
 with the speed of joy itself, along the spirit-stirring lines of 
 Ariosto? Who, as he moves along the graceful and majestic 
 verse of Tasso ? 
 
 u to the Dorian mood 
 
 Of flutes and soft recorders, 
 
 Par. Lost, B. I, v. 550- 
 
 does not acknowlege in them a power, far beyond the epics of 
 Greece and Rome to fill the soul witli august and generous 
 thoughts. Can we be insensible to the vastaccumulation of lite- 
 rary wealth, deriv'd from the wonderful variety which modern 
 authors command? The want of diversity in character, aford- 
 ed by the ancient states of society, is one of the defects of 
 their literature. There is, for example, a greater variety of 
 
 *Note II. 
 
23 
 
 character in the Orlando Furioso than in all the epics of anti- 
 quity: and the same is true of Shakspeare, in relation to the 
 classic dramatists. 
 
 To say nothing of the classic periods of Greece and Rome 
 still open to modern writers,* what an endless diversity of 
 character is to be found in the Gothic ages of the fall of the 
 Roman Empire, in the dark ages, in the middle ages, in that of 
 Lorenzo and Leo, of Francis and Elizabeth, of Louis and Ann! 
 How is that diversity still farther checkerd? by the institutions 
 of the Catholic church, and of the orders of knighthood; by the 
 crusades and the wars with the Moors of Spain; by the rich 
 variety of national character in Europe alone; and the endless 
 diversity brought to light by the discoverys of modern naviga- 
 tion. And are these of no value to the comprehensiv and 
 powerful mind of the orator? He only will say so, who knows 
 not that the great and accomplishd orator demands and acquires 
 a knowlege of human nature, in its universal character, as the 
 attribute of one race; in its national features, as changing from 
 age to age, and from land to land, in its social elements, as de- 
 velopd in the community around him; in its personal qualitys, 
 as exhibited in individuals. But the mightiest revolution which 
 has been wrought in modern literature has resulted from the 
 universality of female character and female influence throughout 
 the whole of society; and from their transfusion into evry de- 
 partment of literature. On account of its deficiency in these 
 peculiar elements, the literature of antiquity is like the garden 
 of Eden, before the majesty of man, and the beauty of woman, 
 gave to it a sublime and touching character, as the habita- 
 tion of spotless, immortal beings. Or if I may borrow from 
 the magnificent epic of Milman, I would ilustrate that glorious 
 change, in the Temple of Literature, by a passage unrivald in 
 grandeur, richness and beauty, by aught to be found in the pages 
 of Homer and Virgil. 
 
 As when, in heroic, pagan song, 
 
 Apollo to his Clarian temple came ; 
 At once the present God-head kindled all 
 Th' elaborate architecture; glory-wreath'd 
 The pillars rose; the sculptur'd architrave 
 
 * Note I. 
 
24 
 
 Swam in the liquid gold; the worshipper, 
 Within the vestibule of marble pure, 
 Held up his hand before his blinded eyes, 
 And so adored: " 
 
 Samor, B. 11, p. 238. 
 
 Modern philosophy, in all its departments, political, moral, and 
 intelectual, has renderd the study of the ancients in those 
 branches entirely unnecessary to the modern orator. We hav 
 embodyd in our systems all that was valuable in antiquity; 
 whilst we hav drawn from the inexhaustible spring of the 
 Scriptures, and the rich deep fountain of British and American 
 freedom, purer and more healthful waters than the ancients 
 ever tasted. Who is prepar'd to deny, if philosophy be valua- 
 ble to the orator, as all will grant, that ours must exercise a 
 more commanding and salutary influence, than all that the 
 Greek and Roman languages hav preservd? 
 
 The general knowlege of the moderns bears to that of the 
 ancients a far greater proportion, in point of extent and accu- 
 racy, than a modern map of the world bears to an ancient. — 
 General knowlege is indispensable to the orator; not that he 
 is expected to use the hundreth part of what he possesses, but 
 because it is indispensable to that enlargement of mind, to that 
 completeness of preparation, which are with him a high 
 duty. Giv to the great orator all the extent and variety of 
 information which the modern state of knowlege afords: 
 and is he confounded by the extent, or bewildered amidst 
 the diversity? The quick experienced eye of a great captain 
 surveys the most extensiv battel scene, and comprehending, by 
 glances, all the intricacys of detail, and all the grouping of 
 masses, he considers, selects, decides, on all which the crisis 
 demands. It is the same with the eminent orator. His eye 
 ranges over the wide circuit of general knowlege; and chooses 
 whatever he needs with unerring sagacity and taste. When 
 the celebrated German mathematician Koenig exhibited, with 
 great exultation, to Bernouilli, and elaborate demonstration 
 which had cost him much time and labor, the Swiss during dinner 
 wrought out in his own mind a concise and clearer demonstration 
 and presented it to his host before he left him. 
 
25 
 
 Thus, also, Bossuet is said, at the first reading of the work 
 of Claude, the great protestant antagonist of the bishop of 
 Meaux, to hav pointed out seven hundred objections; while 
 Cardinal du Perron, on perusing the memorable book of Du 
 Plessis Mornay on the Eucharist; suggested about two thousand 
 difficultys. * 
 
 We find in modern all that is admirable and interesting in 
 the qualitys of ancient history; for the annals of the middle 
 ages alone contain more to delight and interest us than either 
 Greek or Roman story. The events are of greater magnitude, 
 the scenery of national character, of manners and customs 
 more various, magnificent, and novel; the theatre of action 
 more cxtensiv and important, and the actors themselves under 
 the influence of higher and nobler motivs than in the classic 
 historians. Let us now embrace the whole range of modern 
 history, with the age of Ferdinand and Isabella; the discoverys 
 of Gama and Columbus, of Vespucco and Cabot; with the era 
 of the fall of Constantinople, of the Medici, Leo and Sixtus 
 5th, of Francis 1st, Charles 5th, and Elizabeth; with the age of 
 the Reformation, the thirty years' war, the history of the Hu- 
 gonots, the Puritans, and the Batavian republic; with the pe- 
 riod of Louis 14th and Queen Ann, of Peter the Great and 
 Charles 12th, of Frederic the Great and Catherine the 2d, of 
 the British, American, and French revolutions of 1688, 1776, 
 and 1789, and the war of Infidelity against Christianity. We 
 ask then, with a just pride and a triumphant confidence, what 
 hav the ancient historians, comparable to all this? in value, dig- 
 nity, and variety; and in all that depth of interest, which is 
 kindled in our souls, by the contemplation of this magnificent 
 and striking panorama. Even in that ever-shifting, splendid, 
 and marvelous scenery, which constitutes the romance of his- 
 tory, not only in the lives of individuals, but in the fortunes of 
 armys and nations, modern history from the greater variety of 
 its elements, both national and personal, far excels the narra- 
 tivs of Greece and Rome. 
 
 * Iquote these two from memory, as to the numbers, not having been 
 able to find the anecdotes in the books I hav had an opportunity of 
 consulting in Cincinnati. I obtaindthem from L'Advocat's "Diction- 
 naire Portatif." 
 
 4 
 
26 
 
 The same remarks apply to biography; with the addition, 
 still farther in favor of the modern, that an entire department 
 has been added, of immense value and unrivald interest. I re- 
 fer to the lives of the great Christian Reformers, of eminent 
 missionarys, and of women equaly ilustrious, by their virtues, 
 and the cultivation of their minds. What paralel can be found 
 in antiquity for the lives of Luther, and Calvin, and Knox, of 
 Zuinglius, Melancthon, and Wesley ; of Eliot, Martyn, Schwartz, 
 and Las Cases; of Guyon, Grey, De Stael, Carter, and 
 Moore? And are not such a history and biography, as the 
 modern world affords pre-eminently fitted to exercise more 
 commanding influence over the soul of the orator, than all the 
 historians and biographers of classic ages? Independently of 
 the greater importance of modern history and biography, (be- 
 cause our own state of society, and government, and all our 
 relations at home and abroad, are so directly founded on them,) 
 they furnish materials for eloquence of a higher order, than the 
 ancients. Let the American orator be well acquainted with 
 ancient history, as a department of general knowlege; but let 
 him be profoundly versd in modern history, and especialy in the 
 history of his own country, as an indispensable branch of his 
 education. Indeed, until our colonial and national history and 
 biography shall be brought to bear on the minds and hearts of 
 youth, we cannot expect our young men to understand the 
 value, character, and cost of our liberty and independence. 
 
 The relations of his own with other countrys are a rich fund 
 of information to the orator. How few, how narrow, how un- 
 important, were the relations of the ancient states, compar'd 
 to those of our own country and of modern Europe! Rightly 
 considerd, how full of a sublime and pathetic interest are these I 
 Are not the relations of millions in two hemispheres, incom- 
 parably more important and afecting? than those which sub- 
 sisted among the states of antiquity, whose ocean was the 
 Mediterranean; whose continent was little more than the cir- 
 cumambient shores of that inland sea. The Christian religion, 
 and modern commerce; the modern lav/ of nations, and the 
 balance of power; the vastly extended and complicated colo- 
 nial establishments; the refin'd and consummate diplomacy of 
 modern times; the progress of liberty; the popular sway of 
 
27 
 
 the press; the increasing influence of free states over the des- 
 potisms of Europe; and the growth of a public sentiment even 
 among nations, all contribute to render the present state of the 
 world, a spectacle beyond all comparison, more sublime and in- 
 teresting than any period of antiquity. The eras of the Bri- 
 tish, American, and French revolutions so far excel the whole 
 of ancient history, in lessons of precious instruction to the 
 statesman, and in meterials of the loftiest eloquence to the 
 orator, as to set all paralel at defiance. Who would compare 
 the question of war between the North American provinces 
 and the mother country, with that between Athens and her 
 colonys in Asia Minor? What a prodigious difference between 
 the contests of Rome and Carthage, and those of the modern 
 Romans and the modern Carthagenians! The wars of the 
 French revolution alone, combine more of the grand and ter- 
 rible, more of science and skill, more of sufferings, vicissitudes, 
 and glory, than the whole of Roman history. 
 
 What question of antiquity bears any paralel, in the elements 
 of a sublime, comprehensiv, pathetic, oratory, to the question 
 of a Regicide Peace, so vigorously and eloquently discussd by 
 Mr. Burke? Or what, to the question of conciliation with 
 America, as exhibited in the nervous, bold, and simple speeches 
 of Chatham, or in the profound and fervid pages of the great- 
 est of arators, Edmund Burke? Can you find thro' all anti- 
 quity, any question for the statesman, patriot, and christian, 
 for the philanthropist, philosopher, and moralist, comparable to 
 the abolition of the slave trade, or to the trials of Warren 
 Hastings, the seven bishops, the Dean of St. Asaph, or Peltier? 
 And to speak of our own country, can Grecian or Roman an- 
 nals furnish a paralel? in the importance of the principles, or 
 the magnitude of interests, to the Debates on the Declaration 
 of Independence, and the National Constitution; on the repeal 
 of the Judiciary Bill, of the elder Adams, the war of 1812, 
 Foote's Resolutions, and the removal of the deposits. Who 
 would exchange the intelectual power, political wisdom, and 
 masterly reasoning; the consummate eloquence, spirit and inde- 
 pendence, and masculin dignity of the national senate, during 
 its recent session, for aught that Greece and Rome could aford? 
 Why then should the future orators of America be traind to 
 
28 
 
 the study, not only of ancient and foreign institutions, but of 
 states of society, and domestic and foreign relations, so totaly 
 different as to shed no light on those of his own country ? Who 
 does not feel when he reads Erskine, or Burke, or Pitt, that he 
 is listening to an orator, who is bone of his bone, and flesh of 
 his flesh, on a subject kindred to his own soul ? And who does 
 not realize, when reading Demosthenes or Cicero, that he hears 
 a foreigner, one indeed of the mighty dead, but a stranger still, 
 and that the harangue is to his mind and heart as a tale of fic- 
 tion? How, by an almost miraculous power, must a man hav 
 become a hermit, in the wilderness of antiquity, self-banishd 
 out of the glorious and beautiful world of modern Europe, and 
 of his own country, if he does not realize these truths? How 
 by a mournful, unnatural fatality, must he hav traveld back- 
 ward in the march of society, and the conquests of the human 
 mind, if the orations of the Athenian and Roman can stir his 
 soul, like the eloquence of Burke, Sheridan, and Macintosh, or 
 of his own Webster and Clay ! 
 
 We hav thus surveyd the chief points of resemblance be- 
 tween the materials of the ancient and modern orator. We 
 hav assignd in our comparison of them a decided superiority 
 to the latter. We hav not as yet considerd the motivs, and 
 dutys of ancient as compar'd with those of American Elo- 
 quence; because it has appeard preferable to present them in 
 one view, rather than in paralels. Before we enter on this 
 branch of our subject an important consideration presents 
 itself. Our conceptions of ancient eloquence, confine it to 
 legislativ and organiz'd popular assemblys, and to the forum. 
 It is not so with the modern. We hav not only a richer, more 
 dignifyd, and important department in the pulpit, but popular 
 meetings of various descriptions, and societys of commanding 
 influence and immense importance to the country, are continu- 
 ally summoning forth in the public service, because in the ser- 
 vice of the people, the talents, knowlege, and experience of 
 our best speakers. Here are new fields for the American orator, 
 untrodden by, indeed totally unknown to, the ancient. Our 
 elements must be sought in the modern, not in the ancient world. 
 These three departments, the Christian, the purely popular, 
 and the benevolent demand from the American speaker a pre- 
 
29 
 
 paration to be sought for in vain among the eloquent records of 
 antiquity. The genius of the age in which he livs, and the 
 spirit of American institutions, can alone touch his heart and 
 inflame his imagination; enlighten his understanding and enrich 
 his memory. 
 
 There is another important consideration, intimately con- 
 nected with the preceding. We hav said that he is calld forth 
 into the service of the people ; and this is still more remarkably 
 true in another respect. They are his audience. A nation, 
 not a city, are his spectators. He speaks not merely to 
 influence the hundreds who hear him; but thousands and tens of 
 thousands who never saw his face, or listend to his voice. To 
 them he must speak thro' the press, that master-piece of modern 
 genius, that master-workman in the cause of the people. — 
 Delivery the all of eloquence, in the opinion of Demosthenes, 
 becomes the almost nothing of eloquence, in the judgment of 
 the American orator. What tho' he has not 
 
 " An eye more eloquent than angel's tongue ;" 
 
 1 Kehama, 80. 
 
 What tho' he is not arrayd in attitude and gesture, 
 
 "Graceful as robe of Grecian chief of old;" 
 
 1 Kehama, 70. 
 
 What tho' he speaks not with a voice so clear, thrilling, musi- 
 cal, that each, who listens entranc'd and delighted, seems 
 
 " As one, who in his grave 
 
 Hath heard an angel's call ;" 
 
 1 Kehama, 31. 
 
 What tho' he speaks not with all that transcendent eloquence 
 of the outward man, so admirably described by Milman; when 
 Samor, in the island fortress of Gorlois, utters 
 
 " Words potent as the fabled wizard's oils, 
 With the terrific smoothness of their fire 
 Wide sheeting the hush'd ocean ; 
 
 they spread 
 
 Beyond the sphere of sound, th' indignant brow, 
 The stately waving of the arm discours'd 
 Flow'd argument from every comely limb, 
 
 And the whole man was eloquence ;" 
 
 Samor, B. l0, p. 219. 
 
30 
 
 What tho' the American orator has none of these advantages; 
 let him not despair, if he feels the spirit of eloquence living 
 and moving within him. The even-handed justice and magic 
 power of the press levels all outward distinctions. Speeches, 
 the most ineloquent, and the most accomplishd in delivery, 
 appear alike, when born anew through the press. In the Hin- 
 doo mythology, the face of Sceva is to the eyes of the beholder 
 after death, the mirror of his own character, divested of all the 
 outward advantages of earth. To the virtuous it is radiant 
 and lov'ly, and full of ineffable grace: to the wicked, darkness 
 and wrath and terror are its attributes. In like manner, the 
 speaker vanishes away, and the press is to the orator as a writer, 
 that awful face. There he beholds himself as he is, the once 
 painted butterfly, or musical bird of a season, or the phoenix 
 of centurys. * Let not the American orator despair then, 
 tho' he is denyd the advantages both of nature and art. The 
 voice of his lips may hav been scarcely heard, and scarcely 
 listend to; but if immortal eloquence inhabit his soul the press 
 will register his thoughts on imperishable pages, and scatter 
 them fast and far, as the drops of the hurricane rain, or the 
 flakes of the snow storm. What tho' he shall then be neither 
 seen nor heard; yet the voice of his spirit shall speak to the 
 spirits of thousands throughout the world, and of millions yet 
 unborn. What a glorious privilege thus to speak, soul to soul, 
 to the divine and the scholar, in their studys; to the legislator 
 and jurist in their halls of deliberation and judgment; to the 
 christian and philanthropist, in their walks of usefulness; to 
 the mariner abroad on every sea; and to the farmer at home, 
 on a thousand hills, and in a thousand vallys. 
 
 There is another consideration connected with the preceding. 
 I hav said that the field of eloquence in America is more spa- 
 cious than that of antiquity; because we hav the christian, 
 benevolent, and purely popular departments, in addition to all 
 that the ancients possessd. But there is another important 
 branch of eloquence entirely unknown to Greece, and which is 
 fitted to exercise a commanding influence over the minds of 
 the people. I refer to the eloquence of the literary department, 
 
 * Note K. 
 
31 
 
 whether of the periodical press, of anniversary orations and 
 addresses, or of occasional pamphlets, written for the instruc- 
 tion and to promote the welfare of the people. Howjoften do 
 we meet with compositions, in one or other of these forms that 
 deserve in the highest sense of the term, to he calld orations, 
 on account of their noble and important subjects, the vigor, 
 beauty, and finish of the style, the profound thinking, the admi- 
 rable reasoning, and the eloquent passages which they contain. 
 These are all sending forth, daily, weekly, or monthly, quarterly, 
 or annually, their influence over all our land. What a vast 
 amount of writing solely for the people! (and indeed all that is 
 written and spoken in this country is for them,) thus flows con- 
 tinualy in a thousand channels, more or less broad, deep, and 
 permanent. How does it scatter evry where? the intelligence, 
 fervor, and beauty of Christian, American Eloquence, instinct 
 with the sense of duty, the spirit of usefulness, and the lov' of 
 God, country, and the human race. 
 
 Let me now ask your attention to the conclusion which flows 
 irresistibly from the preceding views. Is is not seen at once? 
 that the great object of the American orator must be, to become 
 an accomplishd writer rather than an accomplishd speaker. 
 If he consult duty, usefulness, durable reputation, a just pride, 
 and pure exalted enjoyment, he will cultivate the art of compo- 
 sition, with unwearyd assiduity and zeal. It cannot be denyd 
 that the great majority of cultivated minds in our country, and 
 the number must be continualy increasing, are constantly ad- 
 dressing the public thro' the press; and that the few compara- 
 tivly, who speak in our various assemblys, produce little or no 
 effect on the people at large, unless their speeches are read in 
 pamphlets or newspapers. Christian American Eloquence, 
 embody^d thro 1 thepress, must then be regarded as the great cir- 
 culating medium of popular influence, to enlighten, elevate, 
 and bless the people. If it accomplish not these objects it has 
 livd in vain, and shall perish under the withering frown and 
 consuming eye of popular indignation. 
 
 Let me notice, here another important circumstance which 
 distinguishes the field and opportunitys of American from those 
 of Grecian Eloquence. The spacious departments which we 
 hav added, the fact that ours, to so vast an extent, is written 
 
32 
 
 eloquence, and the'very interesting and important fact, that it 
 is addressd, not only to hundreds of thousands, but to persons 
 possessd of such diversitys of character, in point of virtue and 
 intelligence, all go to prove that we require not only many hun- 
 dreds of eloquent writers for the sake of the people, but that 
 there is no necessity whatever that all should be gifted with 
 powers of the highest order. Greece could tolerate, because 
 she wanted only first rate orators. But while America must 
 hav and will always hav such men, she must also hav hundreds 
 of second rate, and even of third rate minds devoted to the cul- 
 tivation of written eloquence in all its popular forms. Let none 
 be discourag'd, tho' they feel not, in the depths of their own 
 souls, that energy and enthusiasm which bear aloft the great 
 orator to the Alpine hights of eloquence. What a glorious 
 distinction and privilege is this? that so many minds, so useless 
 under other institutions, are calld forth among us to honor and 
 bless their country. In this view, the office of American 
 Eloquence would be pre-eminent in dignity and value; though 
 we never had rivald, and never should surpass, the oratory of 
 classic ages. 
 
 We now proceed to consider the dutys of American as com- 
 par'd with those of Grecian Eloquence; and we shall assert 
 the same decided superiority of the former over the latter, 
 which we claimd for the materials of the modern over those of 
 the ancient orator. Indeed, if those surpasss these, it would 
 seem to be a conclusion of the clearest logic, that the obliga- 
 tions must partake of the same superior character. We as- 
 sign as a matter of course, higher dutys and objects to the 
 sculptor, who calls into being, out of costly marble, the friezes 
 of the Parthenon, Olympic, Jove, or the group of Lacoon, than 
 to the carver who fashions his images of wood, and decorates 
 them with rich colors and splendid gilding. 
 
 The dutys of the American orator spring out of his mate- 
 rials, and derive from that source, the strength and extent of 
 their obligations, and their capacity for enlarg'd permanent, 
 and honorable usefulness. As the traveler, amidst the four 
 hundred glaciers of the Alps, can pause to contemplate only 
 the more lofty and picturesque of those sublime and magnifi- 
 so can we bestow our attention only on the 
 
33 
 
 prominent points in the sphere of duty allotted to American 
 Eloquence. 
 
 We begin with the best and noblest. In the mythology of 
 Hindostan, the Ganges, the holiest and most eficacious of sacred 
 streams, is fabled to rise on Mount Meru under the roots of 
 the tree of life, and thence descending to earth, it purify's and 
 saves the faithful children of Brama. American Eloquence, 
 in like manner, if true to its august and benevolent office, 
 will ever acknowlege a heavenly source in the Christian Reli- 
 gion. Hence springs the first and highest department of duty. 
 Regarding ourselves as beyond example an educated, thinking, 
 reading people, religion becomes invested, in this country, 
 with a dignity and importance unknown in any other. Hence 
 the relations of American Eloquence to Christianity are im- 
 pressd with peculiar solemnity and value. And when we 
 reflect on the popular character of all our institutions, and 
 the tendency to irregularity and licentiousness, the necessity 
 of religion becomes still more conspicuous, and the office of 
 American Eloquence correspondently momentous and exalted. 
 Let then the orator of our country never forget that the advance- 
 ment of Christianity is i\ie first of his great public dutys. Tho' 
 it spring from no office, and be secured by no sanctions of oath 
 or penalty, I call it a public duty, because it is a duty to the 
 people, to the whole people, to the living around him, and to 
 the unborn of future ages. When the ancient orator askd 
 for his dutys on the subject of religion, what was the answer ? 
 You must uphold a system equaly absurd and superstitious. 
 You must countenance the imposture of oracles, the frauds 
 of the priesthood, licentious festivals, and impure mysterys. 
 You must honor and worship gods, equaly cruel and unjust, 
 capricious, vile, and vulgar. With Numa, you must pretend to 
 the heavenly mission of Egeria: with Epaminondas, you must 
 invent a miracle in the temple : or with the dying Socrates, 
 offer a cock to Esculapius. As far as the east is from the 
 west, or the heavens from the earth, so far is the American 
 orator's sphere of religious duty remov'd from the dark and 
 degrading office of heathen eloquence. His duty is to worship, 
 *ind to recomend to the adoration of all, a God infinit in 
 power, wisdom, and benevolence. To contribute, according 
 5 
 
34 
 
 to his opportunitys and ability, to strengthen, extend, and honor 
 a religion conspicuous for holiness and beauty, purity and use- 
 fulness, the religion of glory to God, of peace on earth, and 
 good will towards men; the religion at once of the soul, the 
 mind, and the heart. Be it his duty to recomend, and scatter 
 evrywhere, the Bible as a more glorious monument of the 
 character and attributes of God than the starry heavens, with 
 all the marvelous discoverys of modern astronomy. Be it his 
 duty to recomend it as more sublime and pure in its philosophy, 
 more grave, dignify'd, and faithful in its history, more com- 
 manding and touching in its eloquence, more august, rich and 
 lov'ly in its poetry, than the whole body of classic records. 
 Be it his duty to promote its influence, as essentialy, indisso- 
 lubly the religion of order and peace, of brotherly lov', and of 
 mutuality in kind offices: of all the highest, holy est charitys 
 of life; and of all the nameless, countless beautys which flow 
 from the politeness of Christian benevolence. Be it his duty 
 to honor and advance it as indeed, pre-eminently, The Reli- 
 gion of the People. 
 
 The next great class of dutys for the American Orator is, in 
 some branches, identical with the preceding. I refer to the 
 obligations under which he lies to all these associations, reli- 
 gious, benevolent, and literary, which exist by thousands evry- 
 where in our land. A man must be unconscious of the sights 
 and sounds of the ever-moving, ever-speaking world around 
 him, if he does not see in the giant strength, comprehensiv 
 action, and endless ramifications of this new social system, a 
 power till within a few years unknown in the history of man. 
 Who does not at once behold in them a striking simple, illustra- 
 tion of the difference between society and government, the in- 
 stitutions of society and those of government, the self-adminis- 
 tration of society and the administration of government ? Who 
 does not see the immense value of this scheme of social labor, 
 encouragment, and influence among many others, in one impor- 
 tant particular ? It is doing for the people, and enabling the 
 people to do for themselvs, what government never can do for 
 them. It is scattering religious, moral, literary, humane influ- 
 ences evrywhere. It is rendering the people more inteligent, 
 thoughtful, and discreet. It is educating them more and 
 
35 
 
 more for self-government and the government of others, thro' 
 the representativ principle which pervades the whole scheme. 
 It is thus accomplishing the great object of a Christian-repub- 
 lican system, the voluntary obedience of the people to their 
 own government and rulers; thus dispensing more and more 
 with power in the hands of rulers, and with expense in the 
 administration of government. Who does not then behold, in 
 this new-created social system, a broader, deeper, more solid 
 foundation for government than any state of society ever before 
 possessd? Who will not then acknowlege it as one of the 
 most remarkable and benevolent contrivances, in the moral 
 providence of God, to bind together our wide spread commu- 
 nity, and to preserv, amid all their perils, our popular institu- 
 tions? Who does not see in it a new, a heavenly pledge, that 
 our country is destin'd to triumphs in the world of intelect, 
 morals, and benevolence, far exceling in power, grandeur, and 
 usefulness, the achievments of all the legislators and conquer- 
 ors, both of the ancient and modern world? How undeniable 
 is it then, that to strengthen and improv these social influences 
 must be a prominent duty of American Eloquence ! And 
 where is its paralel in antiquity? We seek for it in vain. 
 These glorious constellations of our moral social system are set 
 in the clear sky of Christianity: and like the brilliant cross of 
 the southern hemisphere, or the dazzling phenomena of the 
 northern lights, were never seen by the heathen world. 
 
 We come now, in its broad sense, to the political department 
 of the dutys assignd to American Eloquence. I speak not so 
 much of the purely political, due to the government, as of the 
 popular, due to the people. These bear the same relation to 
 those which the institutions of society bear to those of govern- 
 ment, which social and moral dutys bear to legal obligations. 
 What a fountain of pure, I may say of holy, eloquence is opend 
 to the American orator, in the cultivation of the spirit of peace, 
 as contrasted with the spirit of war! His duty is to recomend 
 the former and discountenance the latter, with inexorable 
 fidelity to the cause of God and his country. He must pro- 
 mote the strict observance of justice towards all nations, and 
 among ourselvs: and that strength of principle which sacrifices 
 interest to duty; which acknowleges principle as the only 
 
36 
 
 standard of expediency, and truth and right as the highest, 
 truest interest of nations and individuals. To him we look, 
 and shall we look in vain? to chasten, exalt, and enlighten 
 public sentiment; to enoble and purify the model of public 
 character; to cultivate a higher sense of duty on the part of 
 the people in the exercise of their popular rights; to establish, 
 as far as in him lies, the obligations of personal independence, 
 of disinterestedness, of self-sacrifice in public men. Be it his 
 duty to guard, with sleepless jealousy, the freedom of the press; 
 but to rebuke and restrain its licentiousness, as degrading to 
 national character, a reproach to popular government, and an 
 implacable enemy to the people. Let him lov' to cultivate 
 that spirit of calm, regulated, temperate freedom, which must 
 become more and more the characteristic of American institu- 
 tions. Let him banish far from our shores that licentious, wild, 
 and tumultuous spirit which heavd, and shatterd, and sunk the 
 Grecian states, amid the tempestuous waves of liberty. Let 
 him vindicate, with inflexible fidelity, freedom of conscience, 
 against the usurpations both of church and state; against the 
 intolerance of an establishd religion, and the test oaths of 
 party power. Be it equaiy his duty to strengthen and enlarge 
 the foundations already laid for universal education, and to 
 watch evry opportunity to recomend it with the power of argu- 
 ment and the fascinations of eloquence. 
 
 What an ilustrious afecting duty was assignd to Spanish 
 chivalry when Christian knights, from the camp of the besiegers, 
 came to vindicate in arms, the honor and inocence of the 
 Queen of Granada. And what an office, not less glorious and 
 touching, is allotted to American Eloquence 1 when the genius 
 of Christianity, and the spirit of all our institutions call forth 
 the orator as the admirer, guardian, champion of woman. Let 
 him reverence and honor her with a truth and devotion wiser 
 and purer than that which distinguishd the age of knight- 
 errantry. Let him enable her, by a more enlightend education, 
 both of the mind and heart, to keep up with the progress of 
 society in knowlege and virtue. Let him labor zealously and 
 steadily for the promotion of her usefulness, in the domestic 
 and social circle; to prepare her by these means for the only 
 influence which she is fitted by nature, and calld by duty, to 
 
 
37 
 
 exert on society, the purifying, deep, enlarged influence of the 
 matron and virgin. Lastly, let him vindicate her from the 
 unjust and ungenerous reflections* thathav been cast upon the 
 powers of her understanding and the qualitys of her character. 
 Be this the duty of American Eloquence; and assuredly, never 
 orator of the ancient or modern world had a theme so full of 
 dignity, pathos and beauty. It seems almost needless to com- 
 pare these various classess of duty in the orator of our country 
 with those of the orator of antiquity. There we shall find 
 scarcely a parelel; or if it be discoverd, we shall not fail to re- 
 cognize an imperfect counterpart of those which I hav calld 
 purely popular, as distinguished from political dutys. 
 
 One theme of duty still remains, and I hav plac'd it a*one: 
 because of its peculiar dignity, sacredness, and importance. 
 Need I tell you that I speak of the union of the states? Let 
 the American orator discharge all other dutys but this, if in- 
 deed it be not impossible, with the energy and eloquence of 
 John Rutledge, and the disinterested fidelity of Robert Morris, 
 yet shall he be counted a traitor, if he attempt to dissolv the 
 union. His name, ilustrious as it may hav been, shall then be 
 gibbeted on evry hill-top throughout the land, a monument of 
 his crime and punishment, and of the shame and grief of his 
 country. If indeed he believ, and doubtless there may be such, 
 that wisdom demands the dissolution of the union, that the 
 south should be severd from the north, the west be independent 
 of the east, let him cherish the sentiment, for his own sake, in 
 the solitude of his breast, or breathe it only in the confidence 
 of friendship. Let him rest assur'd, that as his country tole- 
 rates the monarchist and the aristocrat of the old world she 
 tolerates him; but should he plot the dismemberment of the 
 union, the same trial, judgment, and execution await him as 
 would await them, should they attempt to establish the aris- 
 tocracy of Venice, or the monarchy of Austria, on the ruins 
 of our confederacy. To him as to them she leavs freedom of 
 speech; and the very licentiousness of the press: and permits 
 them to write, even in the spirit of scorn, and hatred, and 
 unfairness. She trembles not at such effort, reckless and 
 
 *Note L. 
 
38 
 
 hostil as they may be. She smiles at their impotence; while 
 she mourns over their infatuation. But let them lift the hand 
 of parricide, in the insolence of pride, or the madness of power, 
 to strike their country, and her countenance, in all the severity 
 and terrors of a parent's wrath shall smite them with amaze- 
 ment and horror. Let them strike, and the voices of millions 
 of freemen from the city and hamlet, from the college and 
 the farm-house, from the cabins amid the western wilds, and our 
 ships scatterd around the world, shall utter the stern irrevocable 
 judgment, self-banishment for life, or ignominious death. 
 
 Be it then among the noblest offices of American Eloquence 
 to cultivate, in the people of every state, a deep and fervent 
 attachment to the union. The union is to us the marriage-bond 
 of states; indissoluble in life, to be dissolvd, we trust, only on 
 that day when nations shall die in a moment, never to rise 
 again. Let the American orator discountenance then all the 
 arts of intrigue and corruption, which not only pollute the 
 people and dishonor republican institutions, but prepare the 
 way for the ruin of both — how secretly, how surely, let history 
 declare. Let him banish from his thoughts, and his lips, the 
 hypocrisy of the demagogue, equaly deceitful and degraded, 
 
 "With smooth dissimulation, skill'd to grace 
 A devil's purpose, with an angel's face." 
 
 1 Cowper, 18, Table Talk. 
 
 Let that demagogue and those arts, his instruments of power, 
 be regarded as pretended friends, but secret and dangerous 
 enemys of the people. Let it never be forgotten, that to him 
 and to them we owe all the licentiousness and violence, all the 
 unprincipled and unfeeling persecution of party spirit. Let 
 the American orator labor then, with all the solemnity of a 
 religious duty, with all the intensity of filial lov', to convince 
 his countrymen that the danger to liberty in this country is to 
 be traced to those sources. Let the European tremble for his 
 institutions, in the presence of military power and for the war- 
 rior's ambition. Let the American dread, as the arch-enemy 
 of republican institutions, the shock of exasperated partys, and 
 the implacable revenge of demagogues. The disciplin of stan- 
 ding armys, is the terror of freedom in Europe; but the tactics 
 
39 
 
 of partys, the standing armys of America, are still more formi- 
 dable to liberty with us. 
 
 Let the American orator frown then on that ambition, which, 
 pursuing its own aggradizment and gratification, perils the har- 
 mony and integrity of the union, and counts the grief, anxiety 
 and expostulations of millions, as the small dust of the balance. 
 Let him remember that ambition, like the Amruta cup of In- 
 dian fable, gives to the virtuous an immortality of glory and hap- 
 piness, but to the corrupt an immortality of ruin, shame, and 
 misery. Let not the American orator, in the great questions 
 on which he is to speak or write, appeal to the mean and grov- 
 eling qualitys of human nature. Let him lov' the people, and 
 respect himself too much to dishonor them, and degrade him- 
 self by an appeal to selfishness and prejudice, to jealousy, fear, 
 and contempt. The greater the interests, and the more sacred 
 the rights which may be at stake, the more resolutely should 
 he appeal to the generous feelings, the noble sentiments, the 
 calm considerate wisdom, which become a free, educated? 
 peaceful Christian people. Even if he battel against criminal 
 ambition and base intrigue, let his weapons be a logic manly, 
 intrepid, honorable, and an eloquence magnanimous, disinter- 
 sted, and spotless. 
 
 What a contrast between his dutys and those of Athenian 
 eloquence! where the prince of orators was but the prince of 
 demagogues. How could it be otherwise! with a religion that 
 commanded no virtue, and prohibited no vice; * with deitys, the 
 model of evry crime and folly, which deform and pollute even 
 man; with a social system, in which refinement, benevolence, 
 forbearance, found no place. How could it be otherwise ! with 
 apolitical system, in which war was the chief element of power 
 and honor in the individual, and of strength, security, and glory, 
 in the state; while the ambition or resentment of rulers found 
 a cheerful response in the lov' of conquest, plunder, or revenge 
 on the part of the people. How could it be otherwise! with 
 such domestic relations between the republics as made it the 
 duty of the ancient orator to aggrandize his own at the expense 
 of all the rest, to set state against state, to foment jealousys 
 
 * Note M. 
 
40 
 
 and bickerings among them, to deceiv and weaken the strong, 
 to oppress and seize on the feeble. How could it be otherwise? 
 when such were the domestic and foreign relations, viewd as a 
 whole, that the duty of the ancient orator was to cultivate the 
 union of the states, not as a matter of deep and lasting impor- 
 tance at home, not as the very life of peace and harmony there, 
 but only as an expedient against foreign invasion, while partial 
 and hostil combinations, headed by Athens, or Thebes, or 
 Sparta, were the current events of their domestic policy. 
 
 Compar'd to such dutys and such scenes, who can turn to the 
 obligations and field of American eloquence, without a thrill 
 of spirit-stirring admiration and gratitude? His office in our 
 union, how full of benignity and peace, of justice, majesty, 
 and truth! Where, except in the Christian pulpit, shall we 
 find its paralel? And why do we find it there? but that the 
 Christian ministry are, like him, the advocates of purity, for- 
 bearance, and lov\ How delightful, how honorable the task, 
 to calm the angry passions, to dissipate error, to reconcile 
 prejudice, to banish jealousy, and silence the voice of selfish- 
 ness! But American Eloquence must likewise cultivate a fixd, 
 unalterable devotion to the union, a frank, generous, ardent 
 attachment of section to section, of state to state: and in the 
 citizen, liberal sentiments towards his rulers, and cordial lov' 
 for his countrymen. Nor is this all. Let the American oratoF 
 comprehend, and liv up to the grand conception, that the union 
 is the property of the world, no less than of ourselvs; that it is 
 a part of the divine scheme for the moral government of the 
 earth, as the solar system is a part of the mechanism of the 
 heavens; that it is destind, whilst traveling from the Atlantic to 
 the Pacific, like the ascending sun, to shed its glorious influence 
 backward on the states of Europe, and forward on the empires 
 of Asia. Let him comprehend its sublime relations to time 
 and eternity; to God and man; to the most precious hopes, the 
 most solemn obligations, and the highest happiness of human 
 kind. And what an eloquence must that be whose source of 
 power and wisdom are God himself; the objects of whose 
 influence are all the nations of the earth; whose sphere of duty 
 is co-extensiv with all that is sublime in religion, beautiful in 
 morals, commanding in intelect, and touching in humanity. 
 
41 
 
 How comprehcnsiv, and therefore how wise and benevolent, 
 must then be the genius of American Eloquence, compar'd to 
 the narrow-minded, narrow-hearted, and therefore selfish, elo- 
 quence of Greece and Rome. How striking is the contrast, 
 between the universal social spirit of the former, and the indi- 
 vidual, exclusiv character of the latter. The boundary of this 
 is the horizon of a plain; the circle of that the horizon of a 
 mountain summit. Be it then the duty of American Eloquence 
 to speak, to write, to act, in the cause of Christianity, patriotism, 
 and literature; in the cause of justice, humanity, virtue, and 
 truth; in the cause of the people, of the union, of the whole 
 human race, and of the unborn of every clime and age. Then 
 shall American Eloquence, the personification of Truth, Beauty, 
 and Love, 
 
 << walk the earth, that she may hear her name 
 
 Still hymn'd and honor'd by the grateful voice 
 Of human kind, and in her fame rejoice." 
 
 Curse of Kehama, vol. 2, p. 35. 
 
 Gentlemen of the Erodelphian Society — 
 
 A common language, a common country, the same national 
 records, ilustrious ancestry, and glorious prospects, forbid me 
 to feel that I am a stranger among you. It is indeed but to- 
 day that for the first time you saw the countenance, and heard 
 the voice of him whom you had honord with the title of an 
 adopted brother. In a few days I depart from among you, to 
 be seen no more by the mortal eys that now behold me, to be 
 heard no more, forever, by the mortal ears that now listen to 
 my words. But what are the eye, the lips, the voice, but the 
 external manifestations, the language of invisible, immortal 
 spirits; sojourners, for a few years, in frail mansions of flesh; 
 but destind to be inhabitants, thro' endless ages, of glorious and 
 incorruptible forms? We part, never to meet again in the 
 majestic and beautiful world which the providence of God has 
 assignd to our nation. We part — but shall we never meet 
 again, in the more majestic and beautiful world of angels and 
 the just made perfect? We part, but shall we not meet, in the 
 city of the living God, beneath the tree of life, beside the pure 
 river of the water of life? We part not, like the orator of 
 6 
 
42 
 
 antiquity, with the promis to meet his audience again, in the 
 fields of a fabulous Elysium, amid verdant lawns, melodious 
 groves, and beautiful streams; but we part to meet again, I 
 trust, as glorify'd spirits, in celestial mansions. 
 
 This trust, this hope, are the most glorious attributes of 
 American Eloquence. Be this your trust, this your hope, my 
 young friends, and from among you shall yet issue forth more 
 than one, equaly conspicuous for piety and benevolence, for 
 wisdom, learning, and eloquence. Be assur'd if the American 
 orator rightly comprehend the genius of Christianity, the spirit 
 of our institutions, and the character of the age in which he 
 livs,- and if he desire to be read with admiration, and remem- 
 berd with gratitude by posterity, he must be deeply imbu'd 
 with the benign, masculin, thoughtful spirit of religion. Let 
 me then commend to you, as more worthy of intens devotion 
 than all the classics of Greece and Rome, the Scriptures, the 
 most venerable, precious, and magnificent of classics. Let 
 me commend them to you, as richer in the materials and dutys 
 of American Eloquence than all the treasures that Greece and 
 Rome can lay at your feet. Let me commend to your profound 
 study, the institutions of your country; and the noble ilustra- 
 tions of them, to be found in the writings of our historians and 
 statesmen, judges, orators, and scholars.* Lei me commend 
 to your reverence, gratitude, and imitation, the character of 
 Washington, the noblest personification of patriot duty, dignity, 
 and usefulness, that men hav ever seen. Let me commend to 
 you, lastly, to enter with a deep seriousness, yet with a glowing 
 enthusiasm, into the spirit of the age in which you liv. It is 
 grave, peaceful, benevolent, virtuous. It is the spirit of reason, 
 justice, wisdom. Remember that your country is now, by the 
 permission and in the order of providence, the polar star among 
 the constelations of civiliz'd states. Remember that each 
 American is a beam of glory, or a dim ray of that star. To 
 each is entrusted then a portion of his countrj's fame; as to 
 each soldier in the army of Napoleon was given his portion of 
 all that armor whose dazzling light streamd in radiant lines over 
 the Alps, and flooded the plains of Italy, as with a meteor- 
 
 * Noto N. 
 
• 
 
 
 43 
 
 shower from heaven. To you then, my friends of the Erodel- 
 phian Society, is assign'd a noble office, as students of Amer- 
 ican Eloquence, as guardians of American glory. May it be 
 my lot, tho' we shall meet no more, to hear of the faithfulness, 
 zeal, and ability, with which you shall honor and serv your 
 country ! Tho' I shall not listen to the voice, nor look on the 
 face of the Erodelphian orator, in the west, may it be my privi" 
 lege, in my distant home in the south, to read, from your pens, 
 many a noble proof, how grand and beautiful are the mate- 
 rials and the dutys of American Eloquence. Then shall this 
 holy place, this audience of the unknown, this society of stran- 
 gers, and yet of compatriot brothers, arise to my view; and all 
 the living scene around me shall be restor'd on the clear mirror 
 of memory. Then shall 1 rejoice, I trust with a chaste and 
 blameless emotion, at the thought that peradveniure I had not 
 pleaded in vain the cause of Christian, American Eloquence. 
 Then shall I acknowlege my debt of gratitude to you; for I 
 shall feel that you had listend to me, and that I had not livd 
 in vain. 
 
NOTES 
 
 Note A. — Page 5. 
 The question has many times been askd, why do I so much discounte- 
 nance the study of the ancient languages, whilst, at the same time, I 
 make liberal use of the materials they contain? The reply is very obvi- 
 ous, to my mind at least. 1. There is nothing to be found in anything I 
 hav ever written, partaking of the character of alusionjilustratio^&c, 
 which cannot be obtained from English writers, as perfectly as from the 
 classics. Let any one test it by this Oration, and he will find the remark 
 to be just. It is equaly so, according to my experience and observation, 
 of all other writers, whether English or American. 2. I refer frequently 
 to the materials found in the classics, simply because it has been my mis- 
 fortune to hav spent so much time upon them that my stock, deriv'd from 
 other sources, is comparativly small. I hav no doubt that the history of 
 the Mahometan power alone presents richer and more various materials 
 than the whole of ancient history. 3. But the want of familiarity with 
 the elements, which exist with a prodigal abundance in modern literature, 
 is a reason why most writers, and myself among the number, still make 
 use of classic materials. This want of familiarity is not confin'd to hearers 
 and readers, but is, to a-great extent, the lot of all literary men; because 
 the mind, when young, has been so completely pre-occupy'd, by classic 
 materials, as to giv them a vast advantage over all subsequent acquire- 
 ments. 4. Still it is said, granting all this, why do you quote from the 
 classics, if you discourage so much their study! The previous answer is 
 of itself sufficient; but let me add, that while I condemn the ancient lan- 
 guages as a branch of general instruction, I do not object to them as a 
 part of a scholar's education. Hence I use them, just as I resort to the 
 modern languages; because I regard those, like these, as belonging to the 
 department of scholarship or accomplishment, not of general education 
 or duty and usefulness. I would refer, in farther ilustration of these 
 views, to a 12 mo. volume publishd at New Haven, in 1831, containing 
 my principal pieces, up to that time, on literature and education. 
 
 Note B.— Page 6. 
 I am unable to regard the ancients as equal to the moderns in the walk 
 of descriptiv poetry. That of the former is comparativly stilllife: that 
 of the latter is full of moving, activ life. I do not speak of mere descriptiv 
 
46 
 
 poetry, such as Thomson's Seasons, which is properly landskip painting; 
 but of that description which is wrought with such felicity of selection, 
 such delicacy of taste, and such spirit of execution, by "Walter Scott, 
 into his romantic epics, as to become a department of historical painting. 
 Let any one compare the visit of Deloraine to Melrose Abbey, with the 
 descent of Ulysses or iEneas into hell; the hunting scene in he Lady 
 of the Lake, with that of Dido; the battel in Marmion, or the Lord of 
 the Isles, or the Lady of the Lake, with any one of the Iliad or JEneid; 
 the voyage of the Bruce, or of Hengist Caswallon, with that of Ulysses 
 or iEneas; the adventures of Fitzjames and Roderick Dhu, with any 
 personal adventures of Homer or Virgil; the visit of Marmion to the 
 Scottish king, with that of iEneas to Evander; Byron's description of 
 Alpine scenery, with that of Atlas in Virgil: or the scene between Fitz- 
 james and Ellen at Loch Katrine, with that between Ulysses and Nau- 
 sicae. The truth is, descriptiv poetry with the moderns is a work of 
 genius, with the ancients it never rises higher than taste. To illustrate: 
 let anyone compare Byron's description of St. Peter's at Rome, of the 
 Coliseum, Scott's of Melrose Abbey, Southey's of the ocean-bury'd city 
 of Baly, with Virgil's description of the temple of Juno, or with any 
 one of buildings in Homer; Byron's description of the great statutes of 
 antiquity, with any, even of heroes, or gods or demi-gods, in Homer or 
 Virgil; Byron's moonlight scene in Manfred, and Childe Harold, or 
 Southey's, in the Last of the Goths, or Milman's description of the two 
 councils of British kings in Samor, and Southey's of the council of Gothic 
 princes in Roderick, with similar scenes in the Iliad or iEneid. This 
 comparison will leav no doubt, I think, that the moderns display creativ 
 the ancients only imitativ power in the walks of descriptiv poetry. It is 
 with the moderns an enchanter, calling up, under the potent spell of his 
 wand, the inanimate creation to a moral and intelectual life; by the 
 association of the sublime, the wonderful, the fair in nature, with the 
 fortunes and passions, virtues and vices, sufferings and joys, of human 
 beings. 
 
 Note C. — Page 7. 
 No one acquainted with the sublime and beautiful scenery, which mo- 
 dern travelers hav laid before us, can doubt the superiority of the modern 
 over the ancient natural world. We hav all that the ancients had, and 
 how much morel Look at the grand and the fair, the wild and the awful, 
 the romantic and picturesque scenery, which the sky, the land, the ocean, 
 present. Look at the magnificence and riphness of nature in the East 
 and West Indies; the deep and thrilling solemnitys of the desarts of 
 Asia and Africa, of the Andes and Himaleh mountains, of Lapland, 
 Greenland, and the Polar seas; the Giant's Causeway and the cataract 
 of Niagara; the black gates of the mountains on the Missouri; the Gulf 
 Stream; aurora borealis and malestrom; the Amazon and Mississippi; 
 and the coral islands of the Pacific. In truth, modern travels and vova°-ps 
 
47 
 
 havturnd the little " saving bank's" stock of descriptiv materials, pos- 
 sessd by the ancients, into the wealth and power of a national bank. In 
 the elements of the noblest, richest and most various poetry as deriv'd 
 from the natural world, the moderns, in my opinion, surpass the Greek 
 and Latin writers just as much as they surpass them in the ingredients 
 drawn from national, social, and individual character. 
 
 Note D.— Page 10. 
 The failure of Milton, in the use which he has made of the ancients 
 is one of the best lessons that we can read, to satisfy us not only how 
 little benefit, but how muchpositiv injury, a modern poet deriv's from 
 the attempt to ornament the garden of modern poetry with the shrub- 
 bery, flowers, and vines, of classic literature. But for this, who would 
 hav thought of the absurdity of representing the angels of light en- 
 gag'd like Grecian heroes. 
 
 " About him exercis'd heroic games 
 Th' uuarm'd youth of heav'n. " 
 
 Par. Lost, B. 4, v. 55. 
 
 But for this who would have seen the hell of Milton, so terrible, vast, and 
 sublime in the first Book, degraded and disfigur'd by the introduction of 
 Styx and Acheron, Cocytus, Phlegethon; and even Lethe, Medusa, and 
 the Furys, from the Greek mythology — as in the second Book, v. 575. 
 But for the miserable jestings of Patroclus in the Iliad, the Paradise 
 Lost would not have been disgraced by the ribaldry of the fallen angels in 
 the sixth book, v. 609. Without the correspondent scens in the Iliad, 
 what could hav tempted Milton to dishonor and impair the omnis- 
 cience, majesty, and power of Jehovah, by representing him as weigh- 
 ing the fortunes of Satan and Gabriel in scales : 
 
 « , i n these he put two weights, 
 
 The sequel each of parting and of fight, 
 The latter quick up flew and kick'd the beam. 
 
 Par. Lost. B. 4, v. 1002. 
 The same truth is equaly conspicuous in the department of alusion. 
 Who is not shockd and disgusted at the alusiv comparison of the bower 
 of Adam and Eve to those of Pan or Sylvanus, of Faun or Nymph, B. 4, 
 v. 795; of Raphael to Mercury, B. 5, v. 285: of Eve to the three 
 goddesses who appeared before Paris: of Eve to Venus, encircled by 
 the Graces, B. 8, v. 60. These, and a variety of other proofs, which 
 might be gatherd from the same poem, only confirm my decided convic- 
 tions of the degrading, polluting, deforming influence of the classics over 
 modern poetry. Happily no other poet, of any eminence, is to be found,, 
 who has condescended to ornament his rich and noble verse with such 
 a profusion of tasteless and disgusting imitations, alusions, and compar- 
 isons, as him whose genius and taste are so often the victim of his learn- 
 ing. In almost any other poet, this would hav wrapt those in a total 
 
48 
 
 eclips; but with Milton, it is but the dark spots in the sun-disk of the 
 greates'. oi poets. 
 
 Note E. — Page 11. 
 
 I hav been muchsurpriz'd that modern poets hav made such little use 
 of the mythok%y of the northern nations and of Hindostan. The scene 
 in Samor, the Lord of the Bright City, where Hengist and Caswallon go 
 to consult the Scandinavian Fates, and the Curse of Kehama, are re- 
 markable ilustrations of the superiority of those mythologys over that of 
 Greece, in the characteristics of power, majesty, and awe. 
 Note F. — Page 15. 
 
 Notwithstanding the disadvantages under which English and Ameri- 
 can speakers hav labord, when compard with ancient orators, we hav 
 seen instances of men who hav risen superior to the mental vassalage 
 of the more than feudal tyrany of ancient, foreign institutions and 
 states of society. Chatham, and Erskine, and Macintosh, are radiant 
 with the light of English liberty ; while Eurke, in the supremacy of his 
 glory, is the very " angel in the sun" of British institutions. In our 
 own country Patrick Henry was the personification of the revolutionary 
 spirit of American liberty ; while Mr. Webster and Chief Justice Mar- 
 shall, in those profound and comprehensiv views which contrast so 
 strikingly with the narrow and short-sighted views of the Virginian, 
 personify the very genius of constitutional liberty in American institu- 
 tions. I hav instanced the Chief Justice of the United States because 
 his judgments in the great cases of Fletcher and Peck, M'Cullough 
 and Maryland, Dartmouth College and Woodward, Gibbons and Og- 
 den, &c. are orations of the highest order ; if momentous subjects, 
 noble sentiments, imperishable truths, and a grave, dignify'd, masculin 
 stile, constitute such. I am no believer in the superiority of ancient 
 eloquence. From the accounts we hav of their power, I do not see 
 that the Capuchin Jerome de Narni, " who surpassd all preachers for 
 one hundred years after, and for many ages before him ; that Savona- 
 sola, who swayd, at pleasure, the public assemblys of Florence, and 
 were eminent for genius and learning ; that Bernardino Ochino, who, 
 by his masterly eloquence, governd evry thing ; were at all inferior to 
 the most celebrated Greek and Roman orators. Cicero obtaining from 
 Caesar the pardon of Marcellus, has been an object of the highest ap- 
 plause. But when, by the transcendent magic of his eloquence, Whit- 
 field compelld Franklin, against his judgment and determination, to 
 contribute to the Orphan House of Georgia ; and when Sheridan con- 
 straind Logan, the talented and eloquent advocate and admirer of 
 Warren Hastings, to confess that he was the greatest monster that 
 ever liv'd, who does not see how far the modern surpassd the ancient 
 orator 1 When we listen to the applause which the speech of Sheridan 
 drew forth from Burke, Pitt, and Fox ; when we hear Randolph pouring 
 out his eloquent eulogium on Ames's speech on the British Treaty, and 
 
49 
 
 when Catherine Macaulay gave to Patrick Henry the palm of superiority 
 over the great and eloquent of her own countrymen ; when Whitfield 
 constraind those who had prepar'd to stone him to ask forgivness with 
 tears, and on their knees ; when Alexander Hamilton calld for the dead 
 to arise, and the crowd, entranced, opend the way for his coming ; when 
 as Massillon describ'd the Last Day, the congregation leapd on their 
 feet, terror-smitten, as by a prophet's voice ; and when the dean of Kil 
 lala compeld his hearers to yield up in charity -gifts, not only their money, 
 but the watch, the ring, the necklace, we behold the miracles of modern 
 eloquence, unrivald by the oratory of Athens or Rome. The influence 
 of Demosthenes over the Athenian people has been extold as the very 
 chef-d'oeuvre of eloquence. But when Mascaron converted to the Catholic 
 church twenty-eight out of thirty thousand protestants in his diocese ; 
 and when the elder Pitt, by an oratory unrivald in antiquity, not only 
 subdu'd and dethron'd Sir Robert Walpole, but constraind the king to 
 accept the orator as his minister, we contemplate victorys, unrivald in 
 the battle-fields of ancient eloquence. Who would not consider his 
 country more highly honord by Walpole and Pulteney, the elder and the 
 younger Pitt, Mansfield, Burke, Sheridan, and Fox, than by all the fame 
 of the ten orators of Athens] Who does not acknowlege the truth and 
 beauty of the poet's lines as far more applicable to Pitt and Fox than to 
 Demosthenes and iEschines? 
 
 "Like fabled gods, their mighty war 
 
 Shook realms and nations in its jar: 
 
 Beneath each banner proud to stand, 
 
 Looked up the noblest of the land." 
 For ourselvs, I regard th© apaooh of Roger Griswold on the Judiciary 
 Bill; that of Chifif Justice Marshall on the question of delivering up 
 Jonathan Robbins ; and that of Mr. Calhoun on the removal of the 
 deposits, as unrivald in the power and eloquence of logic, by aught in 
 Athenian or Roman oratory. In the eloquence of a dignify'd and pro- 
 found philosophy, equaly comprehensiv and practical, I regard Mr. 
 Webster's address at the Plymouth celebration, Mr. Quincy's on the 
 second centennial anniversary of Boston, and Dr. Channing's articles on 
 Bonaparte, as orations of a higher order than Greece or Rome hag 
 bequeathd us. In the bold, natural, energetic eloquence of passion, I 
 cannot consider Patrick Henry or George McDuffie as inferior to Demos- 
 thenes. In the highest order of patriot eloquence, combining noble 
 truths and admirable reasoning, profound thought and elevated senti- 
 ment, comprehensiv views and finishd style, I will not concede to Demos- 
 thenes and Cicero any superiority over Morris, Ames, and Webster. 
 And when I compare, as personal vindications, Mr. Stockton's speech 
 in reply to the charge that he wanted patriotism, and Henry Clay's at 
 the Louisburg dinner, (I think,) in answer to the alegation of a corrupt 
 7 
 
50 
 
 bargain, I yield them the palm, in dignity, reasoning, and eloquence, over 
 the celebrated oration of Demosthenes, against his rival. To conclude, 
 I at least hav no doubt, that Chatham, Whitfield, and Patrick Henry, 
 were greater orators by nature than Demosthenes ; and that if they had 
 livd in his day, and had spoken Greek, they would hav defeated him in 
 his own Athens, in a popular contest for power, 
 
 Note G,— Page 18, 
 I regard Christianity as the principal and all-pervading element; as 
 the deepest and most solid foundation of all our civil and political insti- 
 tutions. It is the religion of the people, the national religion; but we 
 hav neither an establishd church, nor an establishd religion. An estab- 
 lishd church implys a connection between church and state, and the pos- 
 session of civil and political, as well as of ecclesiastical and spiritual 
 power, by the former. An establishd religion implys that one sect is 
 maintaind out of the public purse, but that all others are tolerated. 
 Neither exists in this country; for the people hav wisely judged that 
 religion, as a general rule, is safer in their hands than in those of rulers. 
 Lafayette rebuked one of the lay churchmen of the House of Deputys, 
 when he said France tolerated all religions. France, said Lafayette, 
 tolerates none ; for all are equal: and toleration implys the superiority 
 of one, the inferiority of the rest. In like manner, in the United States 
 there is no toleration; for all enjoy equality in religious freedom, not as 
 privilege granted, but as a right secured by the fundamental law of our 
 social compact. Liberty of conscience and freedom of worship are not. 
 charterd immunitys, but rights and dutys founded on constitutional repub- 
 lications of the law of reason and revelation. 
 
 Note H.— Page 22. 
 
 The machinery of Grecian mythology seems to hav entirely superseded 
 any attempt, on the part of the classic poets, to work by means of the 
 passions of man ; whilst in the tragic writers, especially, the blind, miser- 
 able fate of the stoic philosophy appears to hav ruled supreme. If any 
 one will attentively examin Homer and Virgil he will be struck, not only 
 by the numerous interventions of gods and goddesses, but by the absurd 
 and trifling motivs for their employment. So conspicuous will this be 
 that no one can doubt, if a first rate novelist or poet, in our day, were to 
 resort to such awkward devices and preposterous shifts, as are found in 
 the boasted epics of the Greek and Roman, he would be condemnd as a 
 weak and disgusting writer destitute of invention, and even of taste. In 
 this respect the difference between the ancient and the modern is just this. 
 The former works by brute force ; the latter by means of a machinery, 
 not less ingenious it its structure, than beautiful and harmonious in its 
 action. Let any one compare the unlawful passion of Rowena for 
 Samor, in the Lord of the Bright City, or that of the wife for her brother- 
 in-law in Rimini, with the love of Dido for ^Eneas, and he will be struck 
 
51 
 
 by the vast superiority of Milman and Leigh Hunt over « the prince cf 
 Latin poets." 
 
 Note I.— Page 23. 
 How entirely the moderns are independent of the whole body of the 
 classics, in the construction of their works of fiction, will be acknowlegd 
 at once by any one who is aware that no modern work of that class, with 
 so few exceptions as to amount to nothing, is founded on events, or built 
 out of materials, derivd from Greek or Latin fountains. And if you were 
 to strike out of the modern poets all that they hav drawn from classic 
 fountains, you would leav their works as perfect as the statue of Apollo, 
 after Dionysius had stripd off its cloak of gold. This is evident, for the 
 principal contributions of the ancients to modern poetry, I speak at least 
 of the best poets, are to be found in the form of similies and comparisons, 
 ilustrations and alusions. These are, as it were, but a festoon here and 
 there, in the august and magnificent temple of modern poetry. 
 
 Note K.— Page 30. 
 The language of the text is not applicable to delivery, when subordi- 
 nate to talents and knowlege ; but only to that rhetorical declamation 
 which follows, literaly, the thrice-repeated precept of Demosthenes. If 
 any competent judge were to be askd in our day what are the three great 
 elements of oratory, he would be considerd as hardly in his right mind, 
 or as jesting, should he reply with Demosthenes, delivery is the first, the 
 second, and the third. How little the eloquence of Demosthenes could 
 hav had in it of the profound and comprehensiv intelect, of the various 
 knowlege and admirable reasoning of modern orators, is demonstrated by 
 the fact of his having esteemed delivery three times more precious than 
 any of those. How much, also, he must hav undervalu'd the cultivation 
 of thought, as the only real fountain of stile, is obvious from his having 
 copy'd Thucydides nine times with his own hand. When Sir William 
 Jones read the works of Cicero once every year, he showed a vastly 
 superior judgment to that of Demosthenes, and to that of Dudith, who 
 with a servil imitation of Demosthenes, copyd all the works of Cicero 
 thrice with his own hand. Let it not be said that the good sense of the 
 Athenian's method is provd by the result. If he had not talents to pro- 
 duce by self-cultivation a stile equal to that of the historian, to hav copyd 
 him a hundred times would hav availd nothing. And if he had the 
 talents, he needed not to copy a single sentence. The truth is, Demos- 
 thenes owd his stile to his own talents, industry, and ambition. How 
 little credit he deservs for energy of character, and lov' of study, is mani- 
 fested by his being able to devise no better method of keeping himself at 
 home than shaving one-half of his head ; an expedient of weakness in 
 him, but of shrewdness and good sense in the Vendeans, when they 
 treated their prisoners in this manner and then released them. The 
 Athenian's method is as unworthy of a man of virtuous ambition and 
 
52 
 
 force of character as the iron-pointed girdle of Pascal is of good sense 
 and piety. 
 
 It is undoubtedly true, that a good delivery is important to the modern 
 orator, as a speaker, tho' not as a writer. But he needs not all the arti- 
 ficial, theatrical training of the ancients ; much less would he expose 
 himself to ridicule and scorn by adopting their wiles and arts. When the 
 ancient regulated his speaking by a musical instrument he degraded the 
 orator into the stage player. When Cicero tells us that Roscius could 
 express a thought as many ways in delivery as he could in words, it does 
 not so much indicate the excelence of the actor as the inferiority of the 
 orator. And when the ancient produced in court the wife and children 
 of his client, or uncoverd the bosom of the fair culprit, is it not a con- 
 fession of his own insufficiency, and of the weakness and sensuality of 
 the judges'? How is the true character of ancient eloquence ilustrated 
 by the anecdote of the traitor Manlius! whilst he pleaded his cause before 
 the people, in sight of the Tarpeian rock, tho' guilty, and they knew it, 
 they would not rondemn him. But when he was removed, and again put 
 on his trial before the same people, they condemnd him unanimously ► 
 St. Basil tells us that painters accomplish as much by their pictures as 
 orators by their eloquence : and Methodius, that a picture of the last 
 judgment converted Bogoris, king of the Bulgarians. We regard both 
 as ilustrations of ancient speaking. But we desire as little to see the 
 modern student rely on the pantomine oratory of St- Basil, as the mis- 
 sionary on the pictoral eloquence of Methodius. When the Areopagus 
 resolved to hear causes in the dark, what was it but a direct, unblushing 
 acknowlegement of their deficiency in the sense of duty which became 
 them as patriots, and in the moral courage which became them as judges. 
 Let not the modern orator seek then for his models in ancient times, char- 
 acterized by such facts. And yet I doubt not that Lord Chatham, taking 
 into view his personal appearance, manners, rank, and character, with 
 the age and country in which he livd, surpassd Demosthenes himself 
 even in delivery. 
 
 •never tone 
 
 So thrilled thro' nerve, and vein, and bone." 
 
 "His eyebrow dark and eye of fire 
 
 Showed spirit proud and prompt to ire; 
 
 Yet lines of thought upon his cheek 
 
 Did deep design and counsel speak." 
 
 M With menacing hand, 
 
 Put forth as in the action of command, 
 
 And eyes, that darted their red lightning down." 
 If Mr. Burke, who had not more disadvantages to overcome than 
 Demosthenes, had availd himself of the instruction of Garrick, he would 
 hav been eminent in the department of spoken, as he is now pre-eminent 
 in the department of written eloquence. Let each be an object with the 
 American student of eloquence ; the former as of temporary, occasional 
 
53 
 
 value, the latter as of the highest and most durable importance. Let it 
 not be forgotten that his great duty is to speak to the people thro* the 
 press. His whole country is the theatre for the achievments of his elo- 
 quence, not merely a court house, a popular meeting, or the legislature. 
 The sermons of Father Lingendes were received with incredible applause, 
 when deliverd ; but despairing of having them read in their nativ dress, 
 he translated them into Latin, and then printed them in that form. Dante 
 at first intended to hav written his great poem and his treatis on mon- 
 archy in Latin'; but he afterwards changed his plan, and wrote them in 
 Italian, that he might instil into the people his satirical sentiments and 
 political opinions. With the same general object in view, and the same 
 audience, let the American orator cultivate composition, as incomparably 
 more valuable than delivery. Let him resolv to be a writer, that he may 
 bless and delight thousands, rather than a speaker, to instruct and enter- 
 tain only hundreds. 
 
 Note L.— Page 37. 
 
 Neither sex can think too highly of the value of female character and 
 education. To exalt the standard of both is equaly the duty of man and 
 woman: of man as a husband, father, brother: of woman as a wife, 
 mother, sister. We elevate character by elevating education ; for this is 
 the tree, that the fruit. Assuredly we cannot think too highly of virtuous, 
 cultivated woman. In the best virtues of Christian perfection she has 
 always exceld man. In faith, hope, charity, in lov' to God and lov' to 
 man, in the spirit of humility, forbearance and forgivness, the most finishd 
 model is found in her. But while she surpasses our sex, in these noble 
 traits of character, as displayd in the soul and heart, she has also suc- 
 cessfuly asserted an equality in the department of mind and action. Man 
 never can imitate, much less rival the peculiar delicacys and beautys of 
 female character, without losing his self-respect, and the respect of 
 others. But woman has often challengd a comparison with him, in hisf 
 appropriate walks, not only without degradation, but with honor to her- 
 self. Man cannot become woman without ceasing to be man ; but woman 
 has often arrayed herself in the costume of manly character, without 
 abandoning her own sphere. In literature, the female sex has given to 
 the world Corinna and Amalasonta, Gonzaga, Dacier, Schurman and 
 Grierson, Carter, Edge worth, and More. In philosophy, Hypatia and 
 Agresi, Grey, Cockburn, and De Stael. In the appropriate walk of 
 man, public life, the weak and tender sex has exhibited, in the strongest 
 relief, the power, energy, and courage of man, in Semiramis, Trenobia, 
 and Artimisia ; in Elizabeth and Maria Theresa, in Margaret, Christiana, 
 and the Catherines of Russia. And in the department of extraordinary 
 early genius, that sex has delighted and astonished the world by such 
 prodigies as Lilia Fundana, and Marcilia Euphrosyne, Lady Jane Grey, 
 Sylvine Joliotte d'Aubincourt, Valentine d'Heronville, and the Tenth 
 Muse. Woman has demonstrated, that if she choose she can rival man 
 
54 
 
 in arte and arms. Nor can it be doubted, considering her inferior oppor- 
 tunity's, motivs, and encouragements, that she has accomplishd more than 
 man, in literature and politics. Yet man is forgetful of her glory ; 
 because she has too little pride to exult and too much delicacy to be the 
 herald of her own achievments. 
 
 Note M.— Page 36. 
 
 Religion in heathen countrys ditters from religion in Christian countrys 
 in this : that in the former there is, properly speaking, no such institution 
 as religion, considerd in its individual character and influence. In modern 
 times, Christianity is an independent system of doctrines and morals, even 
 when connected with the state, thro' the medium of ecclesiastical estab- 
 lishments, and by a political bond of union. In other words, two inde- 
 pendent systems, one moral, the other political, are combind into one, by 
 that tie which is calld the union of church and state. But in heathenism 
 there is but one system, not two. There is no church, it is all state. 
 Religion is not connected with the state ; but is an original, inseparable 
 element in the political constitution of heathen communitys. With us 
 religion is the chief means, the great system to which human government 
 is inferior. With the ancients government was the principal and reli- 
 gion the subordinate means. In modern times Christian duty is of para- 
 mount obligation, while political duty is subject to the higher law of 
 Christian morals ; but in ancient times political duty was evrything, and 
 religious obligation only regarded as a means to attain that end, fidelity 
 and lov' of country. Duty to God is with us the first, and duty to the 
 country secondary. With the ancients, however, patriotism was the 
 object of the institutions of religion. They existed accordingly, and 
 were preserved, purely as political instruments, and from political con- 
 siderations. Besides, religion with us is emphatically, peculiarly,, pre- 
 eminently personal. This is the sole and the all-sufficient foundation, 
 both of social religion, as to our fellow men, and of public, as to our 
 country and the government. But heathen institutions know no such 
 things as personal religion, the religion of the heart and conscience, as 
 distinguishd from that of the understanding and the conduct. Of course 
 I am aware of the existence of traditionary natural religion in all heathen 
 countrys, but I speak of heathenisms, as a religious system, distinct from 
 this, just as I speak of Christianity, as a religious system distinct from 
 it. The test of what heathenism is, as a system, is to be found in the 
 Pantheon, just as the test of what Christianity is must be sought in the 
 New Testament. Now, in the Pantheon, it is obvious that except in 
 the department of punishment, and of such imaginary deitys as Justice, 
 Peace, Clemency, Fortitude, the Pantheon has nothing to do with reli- 
 gion or morals in any proper sense of the term. This is obvious, from 
 the consideration that all the gods and goddesses, both the greater and 
 the less, are nothing but personifications of vulgarity, indecency, and 
 folly, of crimes, vices, and passions, equaly shocking to our principles 
 
55 
 
 and feelings, and disgusting to taste and sentiment. Such is the prac- 
 ticed character of the Pantheon, and of course the Greek religious system. 
 It is vain to refer me to a few pages on Tartarus and Elysium, and on 
 deify'd virtues. These hold the same place in mythology, as the meta- 
 phorical machinery of the Henriade, in epic poetry. Both are equaly 
 powerless, visionary, and useless. It must be obvious, then, that the 
 religious system of Greece was a system of debasing, absurd superstition, 
 which neither commanded what was right, nor forbade what was wrong. 
 Natural religion in some degree supply d the defect; but still the practical 
 character of the system was invariably hostil to virtue, and friendly to 
 vice and crime. It is true the Greeks had their virtues and their virtuous 
 men ; but they existed in spite of, not as consequences of the national 
 religion ; just as the crimes and vices of Christian communitys are not 
 the fruits of our religion, but spring up and flourish in defiance of its 
 authority, precept, and example. 
 
 Note N.— Page 42. 
 The neglect of our historical and biographical, of our political and 
 oratorical literature, as one of the highest branches of education in 
 America, is a natural consequence of devoting so great a portion of life, 
 in the school and college, to classics and mathematics. The truth is, 
 education with us is neither Christian nor American. We educate the 
 young almost entirely as tho' we did not know whether they were to be 
 Christians, Pagans, or Mahometans ; Americans, Germans, or Italians. 
 We instruct them without any peculiar paramount view to Christian or 
 American character and duty. The system is radicaly unfriendly to 
 religion and patriotism, in any just and comprehensiv view of both, and 
 must be extensivly and fundamentaly reformd, before this country will be 
 inhabited by a truly Christian, American people. This subject is treated 
 at large in the lecture which I expect to deliver, early in October, before 
 *' The Western Literary Institute and College of Professional Teachers" 
 in this city. 
 
 I should rejoice to see an extensiv course of American historical and 
 political studys introduced into cur system of education. According to 
 the present plan boys study the orations of Cicero when they cannot 
 understand either the thinking or reasoning of the writer, much less take 
 any comprehensiv view of the whole. Now, if I were to propose that 
 the same boys should study the speeches of Henry, Randolph, Hamilton, 
 Wilson, and others, on the Constitution, I should be considered as acting 
 very absurdly ; because it would be obvious that boys could not under- 
 stand or profit by them: yet they are expected to understand and profit 
 by Cicero's orations. These being in a foreign language imperfectly 
 known by them, and relating to states of society and political institutions 
 of which they know little or nothing, all must admit that it is more difficult 
 to understand and profit by them. For Greek and Roman I should sub- 
 stitute American history and eloquence, thoroughly imbuing the young 
 
56 
 
 mind with the principles and enriching their memorys with the facts to 
 be gathered from those sources. If a judicious and sufficiently extensiv 
 collection were made of American speeches, and of the principal judg- 
 ments of the supreme court of the United States on constitutional ques- 
 tions, it would be an invaluable present to our high schools and colleges. 
 Each speech should be prefaced by a clear and full statement of the nece- 
 sary facts. Such a work, in three 8vo. volumes, would be worth all the 
 orations of Greece and Rome to our American youth, whatever might be 
 their future course in life; whether they should devote themselvs to a pro- 
 fession, or to the walks of the merchant, manufacturer, mechanic or 
 farmer. They would be thus prepar'd for a better understanding of their 
 rights, interests, and obligations as good citizens, and of their dutys as 
 public men, than by the whole body of the political and forensic oratory 
 of Athens and Rome. 
 
RESOLUTIONS 
 
 OF THE ERODELPHIAN SOCIETY IN MEMORY OF THOMAS S. 
 GRIMKE, DECEASED. 
 
 Miami University, November 1th, 1834. 
 
 Having with the most profound regret, heard of the decease of Thos. 
 S. Grimke, and believing it to be the duty not only of individuals, 
 but of societies, to pay that respect to the distinguished dead, which 
 their good qualities, and virtuous actions merited whilst living ; and 
 esteeming it to be peculiarly incumbent upon us, at whose solicitation 
 he left his distant home in the south, and undertook his journey to the 
 West — who have been so lately edified by his instruction, enraptured 
 by his eloquence — and who have been so forcibly impressed with the 
 greatness and goodness of the man — to give some public testimony 
 of our feelings: therefore, 
 
 Resolved, That in the death of Mr. Grimke, we are called upon, 
 together with the citizens of our common country, to mourn over a 
 great national calamity. 
 
 That as patriots we lament the loss of a man cut down in the prime 
 and vigor of his influence and usefulness ; whose whole career, proved 
 him to be a sincere, ardent, and able advocate of our political insti- 
 tutions. 
 
 That as friends of education, we cannot but lament that sudden and un- 
 expected dispensation, which removed one of the main pillars of Amer- 
 ican Literature. 
 
 That as philanthropists, we mourn over the death of an individual, 
 whose absorbing concern, was the melioration and elevation of his 
 fellow men ; and who was one of the most chaste and brilliant orna- 
 ments of Christianity, 
 
 Resolved, That in testimony, of our respect for the deceased, we 
 will wear our usual badge of mourning for thirty days. 
 
 CHARLES L. TILFORD, President. 
 CALVIN MILLER, Secretary. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 Memorandum as to orthography of Oration and Notes, .... 4 
 
 The Natural World, 5 
 
 Inferior to the Moral World, -----... -6 
 
 Modern Man equal to the Ancient in Mind, --..... 7 
 
 Subject of the Oration, ------._._ 8 
 
 Advantage of Moderns in number, variety, and quality of Materials, 9 
 
 First Element of Grecian Eloquence — Religion, - 11 
 
 Second do. Civil and Political Institutions, - - - - - — 
 
 Third do. State of Society, -----__.._ 
 
 Fourth do. Philosophy, Literature, and General Knowlege, 12 
 
 Fifth do. History — Foreign and Domestic, ------ — 
 
 Sixth do. Biography, ----------13 
 
 Seventh do. the Relations between Greece and other countrys, - - - — 
 
 The secret of Ancient Eloquence, ----____ 14 
 
 Cause of aleged inferiority of Modern, ------- 15 
 
 First Element of Modern Eloquence — Christianity, ----- 17 
 
 Greek and Hebrew Literature, ---------18 
 
 Second Element — Civil and Political Institutions of the United States, - — 
 
 Third do. Literary Institutions of the United States, ----- 19 
 
 Fourth do. Benevolent do. of the United States, -_-____ 
 
 Fifth do. Condition of the Female Sex, -------20 
 
 Sixth do. Philosophy, Literature, and General Knovvlege, 21 
 
 Influence of Female Character on all Literature, ----- 23 
 
 Seventh Element — Modern History. — Its superiority, 25 
 
 Eighth do. Modern Biography. — Its superiority, ----- 26 
 
 Ninth do. Relations of the United States and other countrys, - - - — 
 
 Comparison of Ancient and Modern Public Questions, 27 
 Modern Eloquence has new fields, --------28 
 
 A whole people are the audience of Modern Eloquence, 29 
 
 The American Orator speaks through the Press, ------ 30 
 
 Department of Literary Eloquence, -------- — 
 
 American Orator must be an accomplishd writer, ----- 31 
 
 Various gradations of writers indispensable, ------ — 
 
 First duty of American Eloquence to advance Christianity, 33 
 
 Second do. to promote Religious, Benevolent, and Literary Enterprizes, 34 
 
 Third do. its Political Dutys, 35 
 
 Fourth do. to reverence, honor, and elevate Woman, ----- 36 
 
 Fifth do. to cultivate attachment to the Union, ----- - 37 
 
 Contrast, in this respect, of the Dutys of Grecian and American Eloquence, 39 
 Address to the Society, ----------41 
 
 Note A, p. 5. — On Classical alusions and ilustrations. 
 
 " B, p. 6. — Superiorly of Modern to Ancient Descriptiv Poetry. 
 
 " C, p. 7. — Superiority of the Modern to the Ancient Natural World. 
 
 " D. p. 10. — Paradise Lost degraded by imitations of the Ancients. 
 
 " E, p. 11. — Hindoo and Northern Mythology. 
 
 M F, p. 15. — Modern and Ancient Greece. 
 
 u G. p. 18. — Christianity the basis of our Institutions. 
 
 " H,p. 22. — Poetical Machinery. 
 
 " I, p. 23. — Modem Writers independent of Classics. 
 
 " K, p. 30. — As to delivery in a Speaker. 
 
 " L, p. 37. — Female Character and Influence. 
 
 " M,p. 38. — Heathen Religion. 
 
 " N, p. 42. — As to our neglects of our own Literature. 
 
 N. B. It is due to the Society to say, that the orthography of this pamphlet, and 
 the notes, are entirely on my own responsibility ; not having been submitted to them 
 for their sanction. 
 
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