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whom the world has ever produced, is a peculiarity which belongs to the character of Demosthenes. In no other instance, in the whole range and circle of the Fine Arts, is the same ascendency admitted with the same degree of unanimity. Of the three Poets,' for instance, in three distant ages born,' what critic has ever pretended, with any success at least, to class and place them in their due rank and order of merit? Is it not notorious, that, with one reader, the vigour and freshness of the father of poetry have superior charms; with another, the delicacy of taste and passion preeminent in the Roman poet; and, with a third, the learned copiousness of our own countryman? Not to mention the partisans of Dante, of 'Tasso, and of Ariosto, who severally contest, for these distinguished Italians, the point of precedence with the three, most usually admitted, Princes of Epic Poetry. To the Tragedians of antiquity, the same observation applies. The gorgeous declamation of schylus, the passionate eloquence of Euripides, and the measured stateliness of Sophocles, attract to each their several admirers and advocates, without being able to procure an admitted superiority. The same thing may be said of the Greek and Roman, and (if there be any who do not shrink from the comparison) of the modern Historians also. Nobody affects to say which is the best.-To take one instance more.-In a case, in which, amongst every description of readers in this kingdom, learned and unlearned, there is a more perfect (and we doubt not, in the main, just) agreement, than upon any other subject of criticism whatever,we mean the almost universally prevalent opinion of the unrivalled excellence of our own Shakespeare-is not this very preference of the Poet of Nature considered, by our refined and fastidious neighbours, whose Capital, our Editor and Translator M. Planche, with no apparent doubt of its being universally acquiesced in, modestly terms the Athens of modern Europe, as a decisive proof of the remains of barbarism,-the vestigia ruris' amongst us? To Demosthenes alone, in that faculty which is common to the whole species, and one of its highest distinctions, and in which all mankind must have been, in some degree, his competitors, is the palm conceded by (nearly) the unanimous consent of ancient and modern times.

It is not our intention to do more than make extracts sparingly from the many things which have been written upon this subject; but we shall notice some of the most remarkable. The opinion delivered by Hume (in which he has been implicitly followed by Dr Blair) in his celebrated Essay upon Eloquence, is, of course, familiar to our readers. By no other writer, not

merely has a more decisive judgment been pronounced in favour of Demosthenes, but by none are the peculiar qualities and distinguishing properties of his style more vigorously and happily, though briefly, portrayed, than by this most acute and ingenious Critic. After remarking that his manner is more chaste and austere than that of Cicero, he proceeds thus- Could it be copied, its success would be infallible over a modern assembly. It is rapid harmony exactly adjusted to the sense: It is vehement reasoning without any appearance of art: It is disdain, anger, boldness, freedom, involved in a continued 'stream of argument: And, of all human productions, the • Orations of Demosthenes present to us the models which approach the nearest to perfection.' How well this agrees with the testimonials of antiquity, we shall see hereafter; for the present we shall only remark, that this commendation of Demosthenes is in a style of decision, and even of animation, very different from the balancing and cautious system habitually adopted by our reserved and dispassionate countryman. It is manifest he must have felt very strongly, before he would have expressed himself so warmly.

Longinus is, obviously, a writer for effect. The different authors, who are the subjects of his criticism, are, in truth, little more than instruments for forwarding his principal purpose, which is to let his readers see what he himself can do in the sublime. In his often quoted, and, we suppose we must add, celebrated description of the Greek and Roman orators, for instance, in which he is pleased to compare the one to a thunderbolt, and the other to a conflagration,-what precise idea of their particular qualities can be collected-what distinct or individual picture of the leading features and characteristics of those great masters is presented to the mind? Apart from the principal purpose of showing off, we believe he might as usefully have compared them to Frost and Snow. This writer, however, in his general criticism upon Demosthenes, after having contrasted him with Hyperides, and, apparently, intimated a pretty strong opinion in favour of the latter, (as to the correctness of which opinion we have no direct means of judging, but as Cicero is against him, we doubt not he is wrong), concludes with the following laboured and remarkable passage.

Αλλ' ἐπειδήπερ, οιμαι, τὰ μὲν θατέρει καλά, καὶ εἰ πολλά. Ὅμως αμιγάδη και xagdin výpolos, (Anglicè, sober at heart') ágya, nat Tor argoatur καρδίη νήφοντος, ἠρεμεῖν τῶνα, ἐδεις την Υπερίδην αναγινώσκων φοβείται το δὲ ἔνθεν ελών 18 μεγαλοφυες λάλες και επ ̓ ἄκρον άρειᾶς συν τελελεσμένας, υψηγορίας Τόνον, έμψυχα πάθη, περιεσίαν, αγχίνοιαν, τάχος, — εκθενδ ̓, (ο κύριον) Τὴν άπασιν απρόσι Τον δεινότητα καὶ δύναμιν, ἐπειδὴ ταυ]α, φημι, ως θεοπερπλά τινα δωρήματα ( γαρ

asmuch, however, as the beauties of the one (Hyperides) alnumerous, are not great in their kind,-are the productions rson of no excitement, are inefficient, and such as permit arer to remain unmoved, no one, for this reason, who reads les, is impassioned. But the other (D.) having acquired quathe highest order, and improved them to the highest pitch of on,-a tone of sublimity,-heart-felt passion,-a richness and ness of style,—justness of conception,-rapidity, and, in ado these, that which is his peculiar characteristic, a force and which none have ever approached;-having, I say, approto himself in abundance these, which ought rather to be 1 gifts vouchsafed to him from the Gods, than human qualities cellencies, he thereby always surpasses all competition; and, mpensation for his defects, he strikes down before him, as if thunderbolt, all orators of all times, and consumes them in ze. For it would be easier for a man to behold, with un1 eyes, the lightning flashing upon him, than to contemplate emotion his successive and various passions."

- readers will not fail to remark, (and therefore chiefly otation is made)-we do not say what efforts the rhetoriakes,—but into what agonies and convulsions he throws f to give, if possible, an adequate idea of what he seems k, the more than human excellence of this Orator. ero, to whose admirable proficiency and transcendent s we have done no more than justice upon former occaand whose testimony, upon a subject of this nature, is t conclusive, never speaks of his great predecessor and ype, except in terms of the most unbounded and unafadmiration. It is perfectly astonishing,' says he, how Demosthenes is superior to all the Grecian orators. '—In is verò oratoribus quidèm admirabile est, quantum inter s unus excellat.'Orat.-Upon another occasion, he expresses himself. Demosthenes you may, without dif, pronounce to be absolutely perfect, and deficient in no cular. '-* Planè quidem perfectum, et cui nihil admodùm Demosthenem facilè dixeris. 'Not Plato more copious, ysias more simple, not Isocrates more finished, not Hypemore acute,-not Athens itself more Attic.-+ Ne Atheuidem ipsas magis credo fuisse Atticas.' Practically, and ng by experience, and with reference to any thing which + Orat.

* De Cl. Orat.

perficere,-nos multa conari ;-illum posse, nos velle quocunque modo Causa postulet, dicere. Upon one occasion, he goes farther, and declares, as a reason for his preference,' that Demosthenes had formed himself upon a model of imaginary excellence, and not of what had been known to exist in any person. Recordor me longè omnibus unum anteferre Demosthenem, qui vim accommodaret ad eam, quam sentiam, Eloquentiam, non ad eam quam in aliquo esse agnoverim.' Elsewhere, he does indeed complain, and it is with a sort of apology for his own unreasonableness, that he is so severe a critic, and so difficult to be pleased, as not even to be satisfied by Demosthenes himself; who, though he admits him to be above all competition in every species of oratory, did not, as it seems, always fill his ears;-so greedy and capacious were they, and always longing after something immense and infinite.'-Tantùm abest ut nostra miremur, ut usque eò difficiles ac morosi sumus, ut nobis non satisfaciat ipse Demosthenes; qui quanquam unus emineat in omni genere dicendi, tamen non semper implet aures meas: ità sunt avide et capaces, et semper aliquod immensum infinitumq. desiderent.' It seems then that this wonderful man, by his unwearied diligence, his everlasting appliçation to one single object,-by constant reflexion and endless efforts, in the Senate,-in the Forum,-at Athens,-at Tusculum, had been able to frame to himself, with difficulty nevertheless, a possible excellence,-an imaginary perfection,-a beau ideal, beyond the performances even of Demosthenes.-Just as no degree of dignity or of loveliness can be supposed to exist, beyond which art may not be supposed to reach; (the Olympian Jupiter was, we are told, a sort of concentrated Majesty,

and the Coan Venus a quintessence of Beauty);-or as in Geometry, no point, however remote, can be assigned, beyond which another may not be assumed in the vast and boundless regions of absolute space.

To Dionysius of Halicarnassus we refer the more willingly; because, though inferior to none in powers of composition himself, or of forming a judgment on others, he is, for some reason or other, less known and admired than he deserves. This distinguished Critic, as many of our readers are aware, commences his Treatise on The Oratorical Power of Demosthenes,' with a general definition of style, of which he (as does Ci

cero) makes three kinds: which are usually called, the Austere, the Florid, and the Middle. Having discussed the general subject, he proceeds to examine, with much acuteness and sagacity, the respective properties and merits of Lysias, Thucydi des, Isocrates, and Plato. He then comes to Demosthenes, on whose account, he observes, the preliminary observations and criticisms had been introduced, and begins his notice of him by the following (to us, at least, we know not what M. Planche may think), untranslateable passage.

Τοιάυτην δη καταλαβὼν την πολιτικὴν λέξιν ὁ Δημοσθένης, έτω κεκινημένην ποι κίλως, και θηλικάτοις επεισελθὼν ἀνδράσιν, ένας ἔθενος ήξίωσε γενέσθαι ζηλωτής, ετε χαρακτῆρος, ἔτε άνδρος· ἡμιέργες γινὰς ἁπαλας οιόμενος είναι καὶ ἀπελεῖς· ἐξ ἁπάντων δ' αὐτῶν ὅσα κράτισα και χρησιμώτατα ἦν, εκλεγομένος, συνύφανές καὶ μιὰν ἐκ πολλῶν διάλεκτον ἀπελέλει, μεγαλοπρεπή, πολήν περιττήν, ἀπές ριττον. εξηλλαγμένην, συνήθηπανηγυρικὴν, ἀληθίνην ἀντηρών, λαβάν σύντονον, ἀνειμένην·ήδειαν, πικράν ήθικην, παθητικήν· ἐδὲν διαλλάττωσαν 18 μεμυθευμένες παρὰ τοῖς ἀρχαίες ποιηταῖς Πρωτέως· ὃς ἅπασαν ἰδέαν μορφῆς · ἀμογαλί μελέλαμβανεν· είτε θεὸς ἢ δαίμων Τὶς ἐκεῖνος ἄρα ἦν, παρακρινόμενος ὄψεις Τὰς ανθρωπίνας· είτε διαλέκτε ποικίλον δὴ χρῆμα ἐν ἀνδρὶ σοφῶ, πάσης ἀπαλήλου ἀκοῆς· ὃ μᾶλλον ἄν τις εικάσειεν. Ἐγὼ μὲν Ποσάυλην τινὰ δόξαν υπέρ της Δημο σθένεις λέξεως ἔχω, καὶ τὰ χαρακτῆρα τέτον ἀποδίδωμι ἀλλω, τ' ἐξ άπασης μικλον ιδέας. *

'Demosthenes, then, finding the art of public speaking in this state,―so skilfully improved, and coming, as he did, after men of such excellence, did not condescend to become an imitator of any one style or person,-conceiving them all to be half-artists and incomplete ;-but, selecting from all whatever was the best and the most useful in each, he combined and, out of the many, made up a species of composition,-sublime, yet simple,-redundant, yet concise, refined, yet idiomatic,-declamatory, yet natural.-austere, yet lively, nervous, yet flowing,-soft, yet pungent,-temperate, yet passionate,-differing, in no respect, from Proteus, celebrated by the poets of old for being able to assume, without effort, every kind of shape;-whether he was some God or Dæmon who deceived the vision of mankind, or, as one wou'd rather guess, some gifted person, accomplished in the power of speech, by which he imposed upon the senses of every hearer. Some such notion have I of the oratory of Demosthenes; and this description I give of it, that it is composed of every species.”

In another part, he selects a passage (and a very beautiful one) from the Funeral Oration of Plato, and then one from that part of the Oration for the Crown, which includes the celebrated Apostrophe, and places them side by side. He then proceeds thus,

*Dion. Hal. Vol. 2. p. 273. Oxford Edition. Fol