always rich and interesting, but detracted from his effective eloquence. When the scholar appeared, the orator sunk.

V. Although this essay has been already too didactic and technical, I cannot forbear guarding against a habit into which, from his very efforts at self-correction, the young orator is peculiarly liable to fall-I mean constant and anxious attention to himself during delivery.

Aside from the embarrassment which such a morbid selfinspection before an audience will occasion, no diversion of the mind can take place without impairing the character of the address. No one can express a passion in the natural manner without feeling it, and being, for the moment at least, entirely possessed by it. How, then, can the speaker feel the various sentiments he is uttering, and represent them in looks, gestures, and tones; or clothe them in the bold, fervent, and pathetic diction prompted by passion, while studiously absorbed in himself? It is impossible. It is a pitiable artifice, at which nature will not connive. An artificial manner is the sure result of such an effort to be natural. Will not this account for the affectation so frequently seen, which, if not so palpable and excessive as to disgust, renders the speaker a soulless mimic, or an articulating automaton, rather than "a man of like passions" with his hearers? Such surreptitious eloquence may be admired, but is not felt. It leaves the hearer, at the best, an unmoved spectator of the speaker's personal attractions. So far does genuine eloquence differ from this, that "what really affects our feelings, is not at the time perceived to be eloquent." The mind is so fully occupied with the subject forced upon it, and carried so impetuously toward the proposed end of the speaker, that it no more regards the medium by which it is affected, than the recipient of highly-interesting news divides his attention with the personal appearance of the messenger, and the circumstances attending his journey. It has been asserted, and no doubt justly, that "if there could be an absolutely perfect orator, no one would at the time discover that he was so:" and it may be added, he would not discover it himself. His sole object being to persuade his hearers, in laboring for that he would forget himself, and in yielding to his persuasive eloquence, his hearers would forget him.

With this propensity to recur perpetually to himself, the student of manner must struggle. Arising from the love of admiration, and revived by his ardor in the pursuit of the highest attainments in the art, it must give place to intense devotion to his cause. Better feelings must be awakened by nobler motives. Oratory

has higher ends to accomplish than the gratification of pride, or vanity, or even the cultivation of its richest graces. We must not expect instant perfection. Better make a hundred blunders than excel only in negative propriety. But we shall not sacrifice. even that in the execution of more difficult parts. Careful appli cation in private will furnish correct notions and habits. The perceptions will be quick and vigorous as the feelings warm with delivery, and nature will prompt with happy exactness. The speaker, thrown upon such resources, will hardly fail to combine the force of right words, the point of finished periods, the melody of natural tones, and the charm of spontaneous gestures, with an air of impassioned sincerity, which will render him no less agreeable than effective; in a word, he will be eloquent.

VI. We now approach the last requisite embraced in our plan of perfecting the orator. It is a noble enthusiasm, a passionate love for the art, inspired by a conception of its ravishing beauties, and its useful and glorious achievements.

Like the fine arts, in general, eloquence was the enthusiasm of the ancients, and never did it flourish as in the palmy days of the Grecian states and the Roman consulate. The popular elevation and influence it attained, was due no less to the taste of the people, than to the ardor and perseverance of their gifted orators. They had few books, but they were deep in the communion of nature. With them the pleasures of taste exceeded the delight of more intellectual exercises. Action was the charm of discourse, and truth was readily carried to the understanding through the smitten heart. This universal estimation in which the art was held awakened a proportionate desire to possess its highest properties and finished graces, and to secure its ample honors and emoluments. It became an essential branch of common education. It grew into a profession. It was the glory of the Grecian ecclesia and the Roman forum, and was by no means neglected in the grove and the camp. It became the stepping stone to promotion, and the universal scale of greatness and power. No wonder that this prevailing passion was carried out in individual instances to the utmost limit of human zeal and ability, leaving unsurpassed models and specimens of eloquence for our surprise and imitation. Nor was this enthusiasm without an object worthy its intensity and captivating power. But for eloquence, Athens would have been tributary to the kingdom of Macedon, with the other states, and Demosthenes an obscure slave. But it rendered the philippics of the resistless orator more potent than the arms of his royal antagonist. But for eloquence the insidious Cataline would have

deluged Rome in blood; but though he defied her stern senate, the traitor fell before the withering denunciations of Cicero. The history of practical eloquence is full of the wonders of the art. Collect them from the annals of all ages, array before you the illustrious exhibitions of its power, trace its distinctive and widespread influence in all the revolutions which have occurred in the political, scientific; and moral world, and, above all, its connection with the propagation and establishment of Christianity, and you will find it touching the hidden springs of human conduct, holding the keys of wealth, swaying the sceptre of government, subduing the waywardness of folly, and everywhere evincing itself the mightiest instrument by which mind may sway its fellow-mind.

But we must have a better order of speakers as the public taste improves, and the popular standard is carried up to the elevation of the best performances. The people will soon discover who is the orator; and nobody is more fastidious, or less patient under disappointment, than the promiscuous assembly. We are becoming enthusiastic on the subject of learning. Thousands are obtaining an education at any expense. But of what use are stores of knowledge, if we have no equal powers of communication? that the mind has bold conceptions and melting fervors, if the right hand has forgotten its cunning, and the tongue is held in inglorious silence? Pent up like the fires of an unvented volcano, they will but consume the heart that feeds them, when they might melt and mold the pliant multitude around. Nor can the press supersede, though it may rival the orator. It may render him a less important personage than he was before knowledge was circulated through this rapid engine; but it never can assume the higher powers of expression, or occupy many an enviable vantage ground sacred to living eloquence. Like the Daguerreotype, it may present a perfect counterpart of the writer's mind, but two of the mightiest elements of persuasion are wanting, action and voice. Much of this power of the press would be lost upon the reader were not the person of the orator before him in imagination, and his address associated with the imprint of his thoughts.

Men love oral eloquence. They court its attractions-they solicit its touch. "The multitude," says a stirring writer, "are ready to swallow anything that comes to them in the shape of oratory. They are hungering and thirsting for it; they are lifting up their souls for it-to the pulpit, to the bar, to the senate chamber; they are ready to be instructed, to be moved, to be aroused; yea, the most obstinate are willing to be enlightened, the most

obdurate to be melted, the dullest to be charmed, if the power and wisdom come in the form of eloquence."

In this enthusiasm, the aspirant after this fascinating power must yet more largely share. Nothing will awaken and feed it like the pursuit and practice of the art. The pleasures which they yield are of a mental and moral cast, and are as intense as they are refined and diversified. While his severer studies are rather for use than gratification, his habitual researches will be attended with a glow of satisfaction. His observations will extend his ordinary range of thought, surprise him with rich and rare discoveries in every field of investigation, and lead him forth to communion with all that is beautiful, magnificent, and tender in the works of God. Man will rise in his esteem, and his regard will warm into sympathy. A thousand links, instinct with life, will bind him to the human brotherhood. An unction will pervade his soul, akin to inspiration, and dispose him to employ his eminent abilities in every department of truth, justice, benevolence, and piety. And in executing the parts which tell so effectually upon the hearts of others, how rich and satisfying will be his reward. He will himself luxuriate on the entertainment he affords; his mind will expand with each successive effort; his heart grow rapt as his tongue grows eloquent; and the joy of an approving conscience will swell the bliss of a generous nature. With such a passion for oratory, none need despair. It is one of the most powerful impulses to self-improvement, and a sure presage to success. It draws out the man, and reveals his slumbering powers to his awakened consciousness. "You will hear from me," was the reply of a profligate youth on catching an exclamation of despondency from a passing acquaintance; and the reformed inebriate became one of the most eloquent men of the age. The failure of Sheridan, in his maiden speech, before the British parliament, aroused him to a vigorous preparation for the next attempt. When advised to give up oratory, as a hopeless pursuit in his case, he replied, "I know it is in me; and I'm determined it shall come out." And it did come out, as his subsequent brilliant career attests. Had not Whitefield been driven from the unequal limits of an edifice to the open field, he had probably never attained that soul-compelling eloquence which gave him the sweep of continents for his parish, and untold thousands as the "seals of his ministry."

Rome, N. Y.

ART. VI.-A Course of Lectures on the Constitutional Jurisprudence of the United States. Delivered annually in Columbia College, New-York. By WILLIAM ALEXANDER DUER, LL.D., late President of that Institution. New-York: Harper &

Brothers. 1843.

If the motto which the learned president has prefixed to his Lectures be true to the fullest extent; if it be "necessary that every citizen should understand the commonwealth ;" and if by understanding be meant any very minute, or even any general knowledge of its fundamental principles, then very deplorable indeed is the situation of commonwealths, and very precarious their destinies. How few, for example, are there among the millions who exercise the right of suffrage in these United States who have any idea of the true nature of our government! The political acquirements of the body of voters consist of a few watchwords of faction, passing through their lips, and ringing in their ears. Blinded by the arts of partisans, and soothed by the flatteries of demagogues, they receive these watchwords as axioms of government which cannot be denied, and which they will not suffer even to be doubted: they think, as thought the church of the Laodiceans, that "they are rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; and know not that they are wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked." It is fortunate for republics that a universal knowledge of their fundamental constitutions is not necessary. But if it be not necessary that the foundation and constitution of republican governments should be universally known, it is important that a sound knowledge of them should be as widely extended as is practicable; and he who contributes to the propagation of sound constitutional principles in any degree, is in that degree a benefactor of the commonwealth. There are few, indeed, to whom the elevated and pure principles of our government can be minutely communicated; but these few will take with them the precious seed, and sow it throughout the land; and to this dissemination of knowledge among the people, this constant keeping alive of truth, we must trust for the safety of the commonwealth; and in these it will find safety in spite of the haughtiness of democratical pride, the selfish artifices of politicians, the false adulation of demagogues, and the ignorance and arrogance which so largely pervade representative assemblies.

The period at which these sound principles may be most advantageously implanted is undoubtedly the season of youth; and