The Sun.
London, England, 1839-12-05 00:00:00

CHARACTER OF M. SAUZET.

(From Timon's Etudes sur les Orateurs.)
An orator does not show a mere side-face like
an author, but a full front. He arranges his dra-
pery, gesticulates, begins his oration on a stage,
and before an audience, who examine him from
head to foot, like an actor. Of an author we re-
quire nothing but his thoughts ; of an orator we
require figure also.
The bodily frame of M. Sauzet is rather effemi
nate and negligee, and he is neither muscular not
well-knit. His complexion is pale, and he has but
little colour. His forehead is wide, and his ele-
vated eyes speak nothing but sweetness. He seems
a mixture of man and woman.
When he appeared in the Chamber a smile
strayed upon his lips ; and, whether his affability
was natural or got up, lie wished to please every-
body, and the Ministers above all. With his looks
he caressed, one after another, the gloomy figures
on that bank of grief, where he was impatient to
sit, and annoyed that he did not sit there already.
M. Sauzet has what may be called good means
—namely, a sonorous organ, an open countenance,
a vast memory, a quick understanding, and a fluent
delivery.
His voice is full, and envelopes his whole audi-
tory, though there are some chords that do not
tell, and his cadences always fall fatigued with his
periods.
M. Sauzet is mild, polished, affable, and mode-
rate. He tries to engage the goodwill of others.
and communicate to them his own. In his figure,
his sentiments, and his language, there is something
frank and engaging, which charms and attracts.
With more ideas, more positive matter, he has
nearly all the lively flowers and the " cadenced" mo-
dulations of another orator, the demi-god of poesy.
He is, in fact, M. de Lamartine made into a man.
The principal agent of his eloquence is his me-
mory. When he was ten years old, he recited
word for word a chapter of Telemachus, which he
had read but once.

While he is speaking, he can suppress whole pas-
sages of a speech, and supply their place by new
bits, which he can fit into the same texture as neatly
as if he did it with pins.
His mind is naturally sharpened to a point, and
puns are so familiar to him in conversation, that
when he speaks at the tribune, he has to drive
them away like a troublesome fly which buzzes in
one's ear.

M. Sauzet is a type of a provincial orator. His
balloon-like discourse gives plenty of wind, and is
rather inflated than full, flattering the ear while it
does not touch the soul.

It might be said that M. Sauzet has been spoiled
by frequenting the Court of Assizes. He lavishes
by handsful brilliant flowers of language, vibra-
tions of harmony, swelling epithets, college meta-
phors, and worn out rhetoric, which has no longer
title or value in trade or in eloquence.
We do not blame M. Sauzet for having recourse
to these vulgar means to save innocent people.
The spectacle of a weeping wife who embraces the
altars of justice and of mercy, the piercing cries of
remorse, the fine heads of young men which fall
under the knife, like lilies of the spring cut down
by the ploughshare; broken sighs, complaints, sup-
plications; the touching images of a young family
which demands its father, and, if he perish, will
perish too ; or of an old man crowned with white
locks, who throws himself on his knees to expiate
the involuntary crime of a mistaken son—all this
has its foundation in nature, and has told very well
in its time ; and moreover still has weight with
Juries and novices, who are easily moved, who,
though unfamiliar with eloquence, are sensible to
its charms, and the moving scenes of its dramas.
But the dishes of oratory must not be served to
the Deputies, who are surfeited with intellectual
delicacies, and whose stomach is palled unless the
seasoning is new and piquant
M. Sauzet is not a decided Legitimatist, Tiers
Parti, Dynastic, nor Republican, but something
of all these in turn. He sat by M. Berryer, would
march willingly with M. Dupin, would support
Odillon Barrot's Ministry, and not completely turn
his back on M. Gamier Pages. He has one of
those good, happy, and pliant dispositions which
Heaven in its treasures of mercy, reserved for the
devouring experiments of our beloved Monarch.
It is said that M. Sauzet has no principles ; but,
prithee, where is the pleading advocate that has ?
After working for true and false for 20 years of
one's life, and being solely occupied in stitching up
the holes in clients' cloaks that their fraud and ma-
lice may not peep through, it is difficult, nay, im-
possible, to retain very fixed principles.

M. Sauzet cannot write ; his style is that of a
rhetorician, inflated and weak. His logic is not
strict, and does not fit consequences to premises.
When M. Sauzet clasped the statutes of justice
with supplicating arms—when he struck his breast
and talked of what he owed to his cradle and the
claims of his native country—when he invoked the
shades of his ancestors, and exhibited to the Cham-
ber the still smoking ruins of Lyons, who would
have guessed that he was merely pleading for some
broken windows ! It is a false and dry sensibility
that warms up and laments for bits of wall, and
garrets shattered by bullets, and remains cold at
the slaughter of aged men and weak women. He
was very anxious to roof a cracked building, when
the people were crying for hunger, and one was
asking for a father, and another for a husband.
The orators who dart into the course, with reins
loose, the flashes of a solemn voice, the crowding of
accentuated tropes, the abundant diction which
carries along light and shade—all these have their
due effect on the provincials, who are persons of
little taste. Even persons of esprit, academicians
and courtiers, are sometimes to be taken. When
M. Sauzet, after his brilliant debut, descended from
the tribune, panting and with his mane hanging
like that of a courser which has just left the Hippo-
drome, the good and naif M. Laborde said,
" Room, gentlemen I make way for the greatest
orator in the Chamber, who is going to change his
shirt."

Whether it be a natural tendency, or the result
of imitation, or even of calculation, M. Sauzet is
of the school of M. de Martignac. Less tempe-
rate, less graceful, less elegant, less clever than his
master, he is more copious, more vehement, more
pathetic, and more highly coloured. Like M. de
Martignac, he parries with address and evades the
blow of the lance. He is not easily thrown from
his saddle, and rather slips to the ground than falls.
Like M. de Martignac, lie is an adorer of those
representative forms, and that dreaming and meta-
physical constitutionalism, which is called the ba-
lanced government of the three powers.
With what profound science, with what judg-
ment, with what skilful reasoning did he conduct
the debate on the law of the mines I Pompous as
his words are when he begins, they are simple and
elegant when he discusses. He does not forget a
single grave objection, and replies on the instant.
He is never afraid of falling, because he always
knows where to set his foot. He does not allow
himself to be betrayed into injurious personalities
—does not substitute epigrams for arguments, nor
hypotheses for the realities of the question. He
preserves his firmness and his presence of mind, and
his course is always progressive, logical, and firm.
M. Sauzet may console himself for his oratorical
downfalls, for he can be, if he will, the first busi-
ness orator in the Chamber—and what is higher than
that ? •

I am not surprised that his superiority was so
marked when he presided over the Council of State.
He should have been left at the head of that great
administrative body, for there was his place—there
he was in a fine position.
I do not think that since M. de Martignac I
ever heard a more eloquent or a more intelligent
reporter (rapporteur), and M. Sauzet owes this
advantage to the union of the three qualities that
constitute eminent reporters—namely, perspicuity,
memory, and moderation.
His moderation ! And since I wrote the
above lines M. Sauzet has been the reporter
of the laws of September. His moderation ! And,
alas for me, who once said before the framing
of these said laws, " No, we refuse to believe it—
we will not believe it. M. Sauzet was not made to
abjure his whole life and to baffle our hopes, to
falsify the generous impulses of his disposition, to
pollute himself by a contact with the Ministers, to
spoil, to destroy in the trade of sophism the pure
and brilliant inspirations of his youth and talents."
Vain words M. Sauzet could not keep on the
bank, but slipped into the torrent, and was caught
up by the waves of the Doctrinaires, which after-
wards cast him off like their foam.

M Sauzet did not know how to give the amnesty
in good time, and this was one of the greatest blun-

ders ever committed. Fallen as a Minister h° I
wished to rise as an orator, and was unfortunate

enough to speak after the head of the Cabinet on the
Spanish war. Who cared for the opinion of M. Sau-
zet, a Minister of Justice, on the Spanish war, and
who asked for it ? He did nothing but sift anew
some common-places, double M. Pelet, lengthen
M. Passy, and discolour M. Thiers. When he
got through his rosary head by head, the whole
Chamber began to yawn, and they shouted from all
sides—" When will you have done ? Leave off
your paternosters, and let us have our dinner I"

You will see that he who might be one of the
best tenors of the company will be sent to the chorus,
and that instead of having a value of his own, and
signifying something, M. Sauzet will soon be no
more than a second-rate piece of utility, only fit, at
most, to make a Keeper of the Seals.
Where is M. Sauzet sitting now ? On what
benches ? With whom ? What are his doctrines ?
Who are his friends ? What does he follow or
conduct ? Has he a beginning or a character ?
Beginning by demanding the amnesty, and end-
ing by voting for the confiscation of the press
and the outrageous transportations of Salazie,
what a commencement, and what a downfall I
Who will remember that M. Sauzet has been
a Minister ; and, after all, what is a Minister ?—a
Minister of the suite, a botcher of the Cabinet, a
servant of a Camarilla, a beadle of a sacristy, and
everybody's friend, without system, and without a
will of his own ? Who, on the other hand, will not
recollect that M. Sauzet was the reporter of the
laws of September—a cruel and blighting remem-
brance, which should poison the rest of his life ?
The Doctrinnaires, now he has played his part,
have turned their backs upon him and left him in
the lurch. They shrug their shoulders, as they go
to the foot of the tribune, while he beats the big
drum, and, to show their pity, do not even honour
him with their insolent murmurs. Make terror a
profit to these gentlemen ? Deliver yourself up to
these demons, sell them your body and soul Is
M. Sauzet sufficiently punished ? There he is in a
corner, the poor forgotten king of a stage, who twists
his arms and his face, and who struts on a booth in
his fine purple robe, without money, and without
even an audience.

BERLIOZ'S NEW DRAMATIC SYM-

PHONY.

An extraordinary degree of excitement has been
produced in the Parisian musical world by the per-
, formance of a colossal work, which may be said to
be of a new species in music. For though it re-
sembles, in some measure, the great smphonies of
Beethoven, yet Berlioz has gone further than even
Beethoven in rendering an instrumental orchestra
the organ of descriptive and poetical language.
On the 24th ult., "Romeo and Juliet, a dra-
matic symphony, with choruses, vocal solos, and
prologue in harmonic recitative, founded on the tra-
gedy of Shakspeare," was performed in the concert-
room of the Conservatoire by a hundred instruments
and a hundred voices. The impression produced on
a crowded audience was immense, and the Paris
journals have been vieing with each other in giving
elaborate criticisms and descriptions of this extra-
ordinary production—all of them agreeing, however,
in pronouncing it a work of astonishing power and
genius.

In order to obviate the objection to descriptive
music, derived from its vagueness, Berlioz intro-
duces his symphony by a prologue, consisting of a
chorus in what he calls " harmonic recitative," be-
cause it is written in three or four parts, which re-
cites the argument of the poem, and serves as a key
to the instrumental movements which follow. The
effect of this is described as very impressive ; the •
more so as the words of this recitation, notwith-
standing the number of voices, were so well articu-
lated as to be perfectly understood. The subject of
the first instrumental movement is the mutual ha-
tred of the Capulets and the Montagues. It opens
with a rapid and energetic fugue, which rises to a
climax of tumult and confusion ; there is. a sudden
pause ; the grave and majestic notes of the trom-
bones announce the appearance of the Prince, and
the instrumental storm gradually subsides into a
calm. The fete given by old Capulet, with the
first meeting of the lovers, is represented by the
andante and allegro, in which a delicious strain,
breathing tenderness and passion, is blended with
the gay and brilliant music of the ball. The festivi-
ties seem to draw to a close ; the sounds wax faint ;
but 'still the love-breathing strain is heard, mingled
with snatches of the joyous airs which the youthful
guests are singing to themselves as they depart.
This scene (as it may be called) was received with
three rounds of applause, and acclamations of de-
light. Then there is the scherzo, embodying Mgr-
cutio's description of Queen Mab ; and the move-
ment is described as most fantastic and singular,
but at the same time exquisitely delicate and charm-
ing. This concludes the first part of the symphony,
or (in other words) the first act of this new species
of musical drama.

The second part, like the first, is opened by a
prologue. It is shotter and less varied than the
first part. It consists of Juliet's burial, expressed
by a fugued funeral march ; the tragic scene at the
tomb of Juliet, and tke concluding chorus of the
whole voices and instruments representing the re-
conciliation, at the exhortation of Friar Lawrence,
of the hostile families, over the lifeless remains of
the lovers. This finale is described as being full of
power and grandeur.
Such is this gigantic work, which will probably
form an era in the history of music. Berlioz ap-
pears to have made good the opinion of Paganini,
who accompanied his princely gift of twenty thou.
sand francs to the young composer, with the deck-
ration that, since the death of Beethoven, it was on
Berlioz alone that his mantle had descended. It is a
striking circumstance that Berlioz,though struggling
with adversity when he received that gift, has
made use of the greatest part of it in defraying
the enormous expence of bringing out this work,
and paying the host of vocal and instrumental per-
formers employed in it. Till now, the merits of
Berlioz have not been acknowledged ; his efforts
have been chilled by neglect, and thwarted by hos-
tility. His faults have been mercilessly magnified,
and his talents either wholly denied, or coldly and
partially admitted. But the full tide of success ap-
pears now to have swept away all impediments in
his road to greatness. " The terrible game," says
Jules Janin, in the Journal des De6ats,,, which
Berlioz has had to play, is won. Those who
abandoned him, betrayed him, treated his opera
with contempt—those who neither understood him
nor felt for him—the great singer who was not
manly enough to support him, and left him by the
way side--•-what will they say now ? All that they
can say is, ' I bite my thumb,' like the Capulets to
the Montagues."
_ _

The London public as yet know nothing of
Berlioz ; and for this (we repeat what we have
long ago said) our professional body are greatly to
blame. The Philharmonic Society, especially,
oHght long ere now to have performed one of his
great works with all the care of which they are
capable. Berlioz may perhaps not deserve his re-
putation, but he has gained it and it is the duty
of such an establishment as the Philharmonic So-
ciety to enable the public on this point to judge for
themselves. The Parisians, moreover, are excel-
lent judges and their judgment, so emphatically
given, on this occasion, creates a presumption al-
most amounting to a proo of the transcendent merit
at all events, of his latest work. Of his former
compositions we have heard but little ; but that
little has been sufficient to impress us with a high
idea of his genius.

SACRED HARMONIC SOCIETY.—In conse-
quence of the success of the first performance of Solo-
mon in Exeter Hall, it will he repeated to-morrow
(Friday) evening. The many fine double ehorusses
with which this Oratorio abounds, render it peculiarly
adapted for displaying the resources of this Society.
ROCHDALE FLANNEL MARKET, MONDAY,
DEC. 2.—Tlae flannel market has been in a very de-
pressed state to-day, and many who have sold have been
obliged to take lower prices. Work begins to be more
scarce ; and, if there is not a speedy change in the
market, manly hands in the woollen business will be
shortly unemployed. The wool market has also been
dull and heavy, and prices rather tending downwards.
HUDDER.6FIELD MARKET, DEC. 3.—This
market was rather more buoyant than of late, there
being some buyers who purchased low plain and fancy
woollens pretty extensively, but at very unsatisfactory
prices. The inquiry after wools is greater than for
some weeks past, but we do not hear of any advance in
price. Light fancy goods, and superfine woollens, are
little in demand. On the whole, considering the season,
and the state of the money market, there is not much
cause for degpondency. The beginning of a new year
is expected to usher in more favourable auspices. Busi-
ness in the warehouses is rather better, and the shop.
keepers are in higher spirits.