ir
reason. Had we only read in the "Life of Alexander," that he burned
Persepolis, it would doubtless have been accounted for from deep policy:
we should have been told, that his new conquest could not have been
secured without the destruction of that capital, which would have been
the constant seat of cabals, conspiracies, and revolts. But, luckily, we
are informed at the same time, that this hero, this demi-god, this son
and heir of Jupiter Ammon, happened to get extremely drunk with his
w---e; and, by way of frolic, destroyed one of the finest cities in the
world. Read men, therefore, yourself, not in books but in nature. Adopt
no systems, but study them yourself. Observe their weaknesses, their
passions, their humors, of all which their understandings are, nine times
in ten, the dupes. You will then know that they are to be gained,
influenced, or led, much oftener by little things than by great ones;
and, consequently, you will no longer think those things little, which
tend to such great purposes.

Let us apply this now to the particular object of this letter; I mean,
speaking in, and influencing public assemblies. The nature of our
constitution makes eloquence more useful, and more necessary, in this
country than in any other in Europe. A certain degree of good sense and
knowledge is requisite for that, as well as for everything else; but
beyond that, the purity of diction, the elegance of style, the harmony of
periods, a pleasing elocution, and a graceful action, are the things
which a public speaker should attend to the most; because his audience
certainly does, and understands them the best; or rather indeed
understands little else. The late Lord Chancellor Cowper's strength as an
orator lay by no means in his reasonings, for he often hazarded very weak
ones. But such was the purity and elegance of his style, such the
propriety and charms of his elocution, and such the gracefulness of his
action, that he never spoke without universal applause; the ears and the
eyes gave him up the hearts and the understandings of the audience. On
the contrary, the late Lord Townshend always spoke materially, with
argument and knowledge, but never pleased. Why? His diction was not only
inelegant, but frequently ungrammatical, always vulgar; his cadences
false, his voice unharmonious, and his action ungraceful. Nobody heard
him with patience; and the young fellows used to joke upon him, and
repeat his inaccuracies. The late Duke