Speakers cannot be too cautious in watching against bad habits until they are wholly removed. Yet it is possible to become so careful and anxious about the grammar, rhetoric, and pronunciation, and to allow the whole attention to be absorbed, so that the subject itself and the results of its delivery may be entirely forgotten. Many of our most learned and polished speakers, we judge, fall into this grave mistake. Impression and success are sacrificed to a cold exactness, to a dead orthodoxy. Rather than this, let them speak right on, in the fullness of their souls, trusting to the force of accurate habit of study and speaking; then the mind and feelings will be unembarrassed, and free to enter directly and earnestly into the subject itself. The preacher must not be fastidiously solicitous, or elaborately nice in the arrangement of his sentences and in the marshaling of periods; for, as Milton says, "True eloquence I find to be none but the serious and hearty love of truth; and that whose mind soever is fully possessed with a fervent desire to know good things, and with the dearest charity to infuse the knowledge of them into others, when such a man would speak, his words, like so many nimble and airy servitors, trip about him at command, and in well-ordered files, and as he would wish, fall aptly into their own places." Such speaking as this, with a tolerable accuracy and clearness of utterance, constitutes a manly and impressive eloquence, scorning the tricks of the stage, the buffoonery of mountebanks, and the bombast of sophomores.

The following brief quotations contain thoughts worth a permanent place in all literature embracing sacred eloquence:

"Oratory, as it consists in the expression of the countenance, graces of attitude and motion, and intonation of voice, although it is altogether superficial and ornamental, will always command admiration; yet it deserves little veneration. Flashes of wit, coruscations of imagination, and gay pictures; what are they? Strict truth, rapid reason, and pure integrity are the only essential ingredients in oratory. I flatter myself that Demosthenes, by his action! action! action! meant to express the same opinion."—John Adams.

"Clearness, force, and earnestness are qualities that produce conviction. True eloquence does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labor and learning may toil for it; but they toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshaled in every way; but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, in the occasion. Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire after it, but they cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught in the schools, the courtly ornaments, studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men when their own lives and the lives of their wives and children and their country hang on the decisions of an hour. Then words have lost their power; rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. Then even genius feels rebuked and subdued, as if in the presence of higher qualities. Then patriotism is eloquent. The clear conception outrunning the deductions of logic; the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the whole man onward-right onward to his objectthis, this is eloquence, or rather it is something greater than eloquence; it is active, noble, sublime, and god-like action.". Unknown.

"Rhetoric, as taught in the seminaries, and by itinerant elocutionists, is one thing; genuine, heart-thrilling, soul-stirring eloquence is a very different thing. The one is like the rose in the wax, without odor; the other like the rose in its native bush, perfuming the atmosphere with its rich odor, distilled from the dew of heaven. The one is the finely finished statue of a Cicero or Demosthenes, more perfect in its lineaments than the original, pleasing the eye and entrapping the imagination; the other is the living man, animated by intellectual power, rousing the deepest feelings of every heart, and electrifying every soul, as with vivid lightning. The one is a picture of the passions all on fire; the other is the real conflagration, pouring out a volume of words that burn, like liquid flames bursting from the crater of a volcano. The one attracts the admiring gaze, and tickles the fancy of an audience; the other sounds an alarm that vibrates through the tingling ears to the

soul, and sends back the rushing blood upon the aching heart; the one fails, when strong commotion and angry elements agitate the public peace; the other can ride upon the whirlwind, direct the tornado, and rule the storm."-Judson.

We have been induced to offer to the reading public a republication of this volume, chiefly because we think it supplies a long-felt desideratum in the literature of public speakers, a kind of connecting link between the theory of rhetoric, as taught in our text-books, and the application or practice of it. In this most important aspect of this noble subject, we think the remarks of this author the most highly suggestive and pertinent of any we have ever read. In his sententious and terse style, he sparkles with thought and abounds with practical hints. He assumes from first to last what we think is true, that public speakers generally are more familiar with the rules of rhetoric than they are skillful in the application of them. Could our countless corps of public speakers be reached at this point and thoroughly roused, we might hope to see a much-needed improvement in public speaking. It will be noticed that the idioms, or forms of expression, are not all modern, nor exactly American. Many not such, however, have been changed; but some are left as we found them, where a severe literary taste would seem to require change, fearing we might lessen or mar the author's thought by introducing our own phraseology.

The careful reader will observe that in what we have said in this Introduction, and in the Notes, together with the valuable essay of Henry Rogers in the appendix, we have aimed at producing a book worthy of the attention of clergymen, and such as we think is adapted to promote the efficiency of the pulpit. And if our clerical readers can read this little work as many times as we have, with unflagging interest, they will not regret that it has fallen into their hands.

BOSTON, MASS., Nov., 1862.

L. D. BARROWS.

PROEM.

THE highest truths of transcendental metaphysics will one day reach the populace. Not only the standard of intellect, but that of morality, will be raised. The race of the Papinians, the Cromwells, and Marvels, will be multiplied. It was once said all could not learn to read, write, and account. Now they do learn these and other things. They will one day learn all things. Intellect will conquer all obstacles, and teach the human race to realize untold perfection.

But it will be accomplished piecemeal. Progression is a series of stages. Individuals first, then groups, then classes, then nations, are raised. You can no more introduce, at once, the multitude to the highest results of philosophy, than you can take a man to the summit of a monument without ascending the steps, or reach a distant land without traveling the journey. This book is a stage. As the preceding ones in this series, it is designed for the class of young thinkers to whom knowledge has given some intellectual aspiration, and fate denied the means of its scholastic gratification. It is therefore neither elementary nor ultimate, but a medium between the It addresses itself to a want. It deals in results. It dictates doing.

two.

Spontaneous life is the life of the people. Their knowledge is confined to phenomena. Their practical philosophy is the reality of Hobbism. Disguise it as we may, their sole business is the betterance of their condition. All you can do is to guide their rude interpretation of nature, men, and manners-to give plain method to their classification, coherence to their inferences, justice to their invectives. They want no new philosophy. There are more old ones which are good than they can study. There is more wisdom. extant than they can master, more precepts than they can apply. Weapons innumerable surround them, of which they have to be taught the use. Their watchword is work. The scaling-ladders of the wise which they, having mounted the citadel of wisdom, have kicked down, are yet of service to those who are below. I have picked a few of these ladders up, and reared them in these pages for the use of those who have yet to rise.

Fastidious punctilios of scholarship would be out of place in such a book as this. He who addresses the artisan class must, like the Spartans, write to be read, and speak to be understood. Mechanics and literary institutions cannot cultivate their frequenters, and those greatly mistake the requirements of learning and the state of the people who think they can. They can stimulate improvement, and this is their province. Nations never become civilized and learned till subsistence is secure and leisure abundant. So of individuals. The populace are still engaged in the lowest battle of animal wants; and even the middle classes are in the warfare of intellectual wants. In the ancient state of society war was the only trade, force the only teacher, and the battle-ax the only