the point.
VI. I proceed to the pleasure arising from the exercise of eloquence;
a pleasure which does not consist in the mere sensation of the moment,
but is felt through life, repeated every day, and almost every hour.
For let me ask, to a man of an ingenuous and liberal mind, who knows
the relish of elegant enjoyments, what can yield such true delight, as
a concourse of the most respectable characters crowding to his levee?
How must it enhance his pleasure, when he reflects, that the visit is
not paid to him because he is rich, and wants an heir [a], or is in
possession of a public office, but purely as a compliment to superior
talents, a mark of respect to a great and accomplished orator! The
rich who have no issue, and the men in high rank and power, are his
followers. Though he is still young, and probably destitute of
fortune, all concur in paying their court to solicit his patronage for
themselves, or to recommend their friends to his protection. In the
most splendid fortune, in all the dignity and pride of power, is there
any thing that can equal the heartfelt satisfaction of the able
advocate, when he sees the most illustrious citizens, men respected
for their years, and flourishing in the opinion of the public, yet
paying their court to a rising genius, and, in the midst of wealth and
grandeur, fairly owning, that they still want something superior to
all their possessions? What shall be said of the attendants, that
follow the young orator from the bar, and watch his motions to his own
house? With what importance does he appear to the multitude! in the
courts of judicature, with what veneration! When he rises to speak,
the audience is hushed in mute attention; every eye is fixed on him
alone; the crowd presses round him; he is master of their passions;
they are swayed, impelled, directed, as he thinks proper. These are
the fruits of eloquence, well known to all, and palpable to every
common observer.
There are other pleasures more refined and secret, felt only by the
initiated. When the orator, upon some great occasion, comes with a
well-digested speech, conscious of his matter, and animated by his
subject, his breast expands, and heaves with emotions unfelt before.
In his joy there is a dignity suited to the weight and energy of the
composition which he has prepared. Does he rise to hazard himself [b]
in a sudden debate; he is alarmed for himself, but in that very alarm
there is a mingle of pleasure, w
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