and chuckling glee are as much its legitimate ends as solemn conviction or deep emotion. But oratory consists of two parts; the permanent and the fleeting; the words which are used, and the voice and action of the speaker. The high privilege of perpetuating his words by writing, and of addressing the whole human race, the orator shares with the poet, the historian and the philosopher; and thus, like them, he can become immortal. But from the very constitution of the human mind, all eloquence of composition, even though exhibited in the highest degree by those who have never attempted the practice of speaking, has its origin in those impulses which lead to oratory. This is also an historical fact. The first rise of culti vated prose composition we find to have been among the early orators of Athens the immediate predecessors of Demosthenes. From the published speeches of great orators, chiefly and primarily have historians and other prose writers taken their lessons in composition. In a liberal education, what Latin author is so much valued as Cicero? what Greek prose writer is so indispensable as Demosthenes? Though the perfection of prose composition has been less carefully studied in modern than in ancient times, yet what specimens of the powers and beauties of our own tongue are equal to passages from Burke and Webster? How, indeed, is it possible for a man to write eloquently, without imagining himself to be uttering his words in earnest tones and with the gushing abandonment of speaking? Sir Walter Scott would sometimes, when dictating his eloquent narratives and dialogues to an amanuensis, personate, like an actor, the characters of his story, and deliver his words as if he were declaiming. Eloquence in writing, then, is to be traced for its true origin to oratory. Though at the present day many eloquent writers are dull and uninteresting speakers, yet it was not so in the beginning; and the existence of this unnatural divorcement of matter from manner is an accidental and not a necessary characteristic of the action of an earnest mind. It ought rather to be regarded as a strange anomaly. What is writing but speech, represented merely in its vowels and consonants by arbitrary characters? Are not the tones of the voice as essentially a part of language as the alphabetical elements of words? Is it even possible for an interesting writer, in the solitude of his study, to represent his thoughts to himself merely by the characters which his hand is tracing? When writing an affectionate letter to a friend, do we not imagine ourselves using the tones-often the looks, and gestures even of endearment. But let us not make too broad an assertion. Is it, after all, a fact, that an eloquent writer has ever been a dull speaker in all situations and circumstances? Take the case, which is so lamentably common, of a dull preacher who is yet a warm hearted and earnest man: let him become interested in sympathising_conversation among a circle of friends. Here we have suggested the true ex planation of our anomaly. The habits of the man have been so formed by the circumstances of his life and education, that he cannot effectively command the faculties of his mind when before a public audience; not even if his hearers be eager to sympathise with and favor him. Upon an orator, the presence of a crowd of his fellow men exerts an arousing and yet concentrating influence. So far from distracting his thoughts, external influences crowding upon him, force his mind back upon itself and upon the subject in hand. No matter how nervous and diffident he may be, his very sensitiveness sharpens his sensibilities, and his mind is brought to the highest state of tension and power. So the masterly intellect and poetic genius of the characters in Shakespeare's greatest plays, are regarded as natural and appropriate by critics, in consideration of the situations in which they are placed, and the passions which impel them. The most thrilling and the grandest specimens of eloquence have been put in the mouths of his dramatic personages by Shakespeare. Man is by nature a being in the highest degree social. The powerful effect of the sympathy of numbers is one of the most important of the laws, both of society and of the individual man, whether for good or for evil. If, on the one hand, a mob is liable to be more savage and dangerous than the fiercest wild beast, where, on the other hand, but among assembled fellow citizens do patriotism and forgetfulness of self, where does enthusiasm to great principles of philanthropy, justice or charity find a warmer welcome? If an assembled multitude cried "crucify him," yet it was a multitude that Christ himself suffered to welcome hin with hosannas; it was before a multitude that the Spirit descended at Pentecost. Far from dismissing the excited crowd, or keeping silence before them, the inspired Peter immediately urged them with earnest argument and impassioned appeal. Not as individuals merely did he exhort them for their good; his appeals were to men assembled together, and in the state of mind which being in this situation produces. Indeed, what is public worship itselfof which no Christian disputes the obligation-but the joint worship of members under the influence of this social principle and associated feeling? In no other way does the Apostle describe it, when he enjoins the practice. "The assembling yourselves together" is all the specification he thought necessary; thus furnishing an undeniable proof that the main object of public worship is to bring this principle, as well as the individual feelings, under the sway of religion. May we not affirm that at the present day, revolutions, riots and fanatical mobs, have caused sober and reflecting men to take a too partial view of the great principle we are now considering. Many seem apparently to regard the excitment of crowded meetings as necessarily more an evil than a good. Such would perhaps consider the only reason for assembling together to be merely that of a convenient or economical arrangement; since otherwise it would be necessary to repeat a sermon or discourse as many times as there are individuals or families to be benefitted. So, too, tracts must in themselves be better than sermons, newspapers than speeches, provided people be as willing to read as to hear. Popular writers are of late often inclined to depreciate oratory, but if we inquire into the personal history and habits of those who do so, we shall be reminded of the old fable in Esop, of the fox who would persuade his companions to relinquish an ornamental and useful member which he had the misfortune to be deprived of. True, the free countries of our times are overrun with demagogues and fanatical agitators, appealing to the baser passions in vulgar yet powerful harangues. Itinerants gather together besotted converts to Mormonism, and other systems of delusion. True, the whole Anti-rent party, with its deeds of outrage, and doctrines of anarchy, may be traced back for its cause and origin to the declamations of Boughton and his associates. No wonder that intelligent men become disgusted at the thought of popular speaking. But then, are all the evils thus brought about, to be compared in amount to similar ones effected through the medium of the press? It is unreasonable, in reference to any great instrument of power, to estimate its value and importance by the evil rather than by the good effects which it is capable of producing. And if mob orators are successful, whose is the fault? Suppose a few men of education and talent, who were residents of Rensselaer county, had given themselves earnestly to the work, and perseveringly combatted the deluders of the people with similar weapons. Suppose them to have generously brought their own superior minds into contact with those of the ignorant people-to have aroused feelings counter to those excited by the demagogues-to have domineered over weak minds for a good instead of a bad purpose-can any one doubt their success? Does not a Clay or a Webster always prevail in the end over a Boughton? If the wicked have to some extent anticipated the good in adopting popular oratory as one of their chief weapons, a like preoccu pation has heretofore been usurped of other valuable instruments. Voltaire and his brother infidels are said to have been the first to devise and employ the method of disseminating doctrines by means of small tracts. After a time, however, tracts were adopted with equal and even greater success, for circulating truth as well as error. Educated clergymen sigh over the number of those who enroll themselves followers of some popular heresy, or degrading views of religion. They feel that they themselves can not and ought not to descend in their addresses to the level of preachers who triumph in the display of vulgarity and presumption. When weak minds are thus led astray, they are apt to lay the sole fault on human nature, and not at all to suspect that such evils must result, at least in some degree, from their own inefficiency. Let them first consider whether equal enthusiasm, zeal and patience have been employed in setting forth truth; whether error has been perseveringly counteractd; whether deceivers have been combatted; and above all whether humility and disinterestedness have caused those whom Providence has appointed to these duties, to bring their minds down from the pride of learning to an earnest sympathy with their less favored brethren. Let such mourners over the degeneracy of the age, condescend to spend a little time. in mingling with the deluded crowds who are led astray by a fanatic or a demagogue. Let them endeavor, even but slightly, to enter into the actual condition of mind of those who make up such assemblies; let them imagine themselves to be in the same state of want of education, of slowness and confusion of apprehension, of ignorance, and of privation from all the pleasures of science, art and imagination. Then let them consider well the speaker. Disregarding his rudeness and vulgarity, and hardening themselves for a moment against disgust, let them take note of the all important fact that it may be said of him with truth, and in spite of every disparagement, that he is speaking with eloquence. Let them reflect, that in some of the most effective elements of oratorical influence, he is far superior to themselves. Ignorant and fearless of artificial rules or pedantic criticism, his language, his voice, his action, speak irresistably to the minds and hearts of his hearers. His only rule of rhetoric is never to relax or cease until he makes himself both understood and felt. See how his hearers respect him. Is it his ignorance or vulgarity or any positive fault which they respect? It is not by these, but in spite of them, that he makes a serious impression. If the man of refinement would but make the same hearty and unreserved efforts to convince and persuade; if he would but forget himself and his dignity, and give himself up to his subject; if he would but discipline his mind and heart in studying to sympathize with the essential elements of human nature, and disregard all peculiarities of mere classes and parts of society; if he would but reverence man as man, and speak directly and fearlessly to the human heart; his chances of success would be more numerous than those of the demagogue or fanatic, in proportion to the superiority of his mind and the truth of his cause. But among men of education, how seldom do we have a natural and animated speaker! How often is their utterance weak and obscure, and their whole appearance feeble and stiff, or egotistic and affected. Why should they not look their audience full in the face, and speak out with fearless sincerity? Why such constant fear of committing themselves in regard to such trifles as individual peculiarities of external manner? Why use an unnatural voice? These charges may seem extravagant, but that they are too generally just, may be readily perceived by imagining a clergyman or lecturer to become engaged in animated conversation with a friend just after having addressed a public assembly. Let that friend be nearly as far from him as was the more distant part of his audience, and how different would be the sound of his voice! How hearty and expressive the tone! How forgetful of himself in his interest in the conversation! Had such been his look, voice and gesture, when just before addressing an assembly, how fixed would have been their attention, and how much more probably would his ideas have impressed their minds, and his persuasions have moved their hearts! Yet this illustration but fitly sets forth the difference between those zealous speakers who come fresh from the people, and far too many of our gifted men, who in the course of acquiring a liberal education, have contracted habits of timidity or affectation, which prevent, to a great extent, the ascendancy they might otherwise gain over their uneducated brethren. When cultivated mind shall adopt a truly natural and sympathizing manner, the reign of genuine eloquence will begin, and "the school-master being abroad," the factitious oratory of demagogues must pass into comparative insignificance. SUNSET AFTER RAIN. BY ALFRED B. STREET. All day, with humming and continuous sound, Kindles the dripping scene. Within the east The delicate rainbow suddenly breaks out, Soft air-breaths flutter round, each tree shakes down And the rich landscape, full of loveliness, Thus, sometimes, is the end of human life: The darkness breaks away, the tears are dried, |