Orchards on the banks of Tiber.

Antony's success.

remembered the poor people and given them all his private walks and arbors, and new planted orchards on the banks of Tiber.

The effort is successful. The effect is overwhelming. The populace had come rejoicing at the murder of Cæsar; they go away bearing his corpse in triumph and swearing revenge and death upon the heads of the conspirators. They came burning with hatred and indignation at the very name of Cæsar; they go away with such love and reverence for him,

"That they would go and kiss dead Cæsar's wounds,
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood;

Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,

And dying, mention it in their wills."

The elements of his success are apparent. Those qualities which have been presented are the basis of its merit. This passage in Shakspeare has always been admired as a choice specimen of eloquence on account of its homely simplicity. The topics are so artfully managed and so aptly chosen, that it seems to be the spontaneous, unpremeditated expression of his feelings. It is perfectly natural, and seems to be just what we ourselves would have said under those circumstances. And yet it is that kind of naturalness that is the result of art. It is that facility and ease, apparently unattended by effort, which we de

Topics aptly chosen.

Simplicity.

nominate skill. It is characterized in all its parts by the utmost simplicity. The speaker keeps himself entirely out of sight of his hearers. They are not aware that he is the agent that moves their feelings. Like the glass that brings the star near to us, we are unconscious of its presence in our eagerness to view the object. He declares, and they believe it,

"I am no orator as Brutus is;

But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man
That love my friend;

For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action nor utterance, nor the power of speech
To stir men's blood; I only speak right on,

And tell you that which you yourselves do know."

But in that very seeming simplicity of style, and that ease and naturalness in the choice of topics, he steals away their hearts, and leads them captive wheresoe'er he will. He rouses their passions, he nerves them to revenge,

" -and puts a tongue

In every wound of Cæsar, that would move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny."

In writing and in manners, the simplicity upon which we have dwelt is that quality that is last developed. The young composer acquires every other element known to rhetoricians before he learns that most important one of all, to use simple language in

Culture of the style, the manners, and the voice.

The gift of speech.

simple style. The youth who begins to move in company, makes many mortifying failures before he learns the golden mean between stiff and awkward manners, the result of diffidence, and that over-much politeness which characterizes the egotistic and selfsatisfied spirit. So in the education of the voice. This simplicity and plainness of utterance which always found in our most successful speakers, the last grace of speech to be acquired.

The elements which we have now noticed, are the ones to which careful attention should be given in a systematic training of the voice. Speech is among the nolla of the gifts which Heaven has been pleased to bestow upon man; and it was not bestowed, as a wily diplomatist has observed, to conceal our thoughts, but to enable us to hold ingenuous and delightful communion with each other. It is that gift which distinguishes man from all other created beings, and enables him to fill up the measure of existence with sociality, and thus diversify and gladden its otherwise unendurable monotony.

The limit to the improvement of the voice, like that of the mind itself, is indefinite. It is an instrument of great power and compass, capable of exciting the most intense grief and ungovernable joy; of electrifying a people with patriotic enthusiasm, and of paralyzing the heart with appalling fear; of

Conclusion.

touching, as with an unseen hand, sympathies for the sorrowing and pity for distress, and moving the tenderest feelings of maternal love.

It is the duty of every one to give the voice the most careful training. It is a shame for a man to possess a gift so inestimable, and not be able, on account of a defect in early education, to use it with taste and propriety. Its culture should form a prominent part in the instruction imparted in all our schools. It should be constantly subjected during youth to that exercise which will strengthen it, and should not be left to neglect even to the latest years of life.

LECTURE V.

THE STUDY OF LANGUAGE.

URING the latter part of the last century, a club
ING

DURD

of literary gentlemen in London were accustomed weekly to sup together. From my earliest reading, I have always been attracted by the charms which seemed to cluster about it. They were brought together because their tastes and their attainments were congenial. Their learning and discrimination were so far superior to the society which they encountered in the daily walks of the world, that it was cheering to meet with mutual appreciation and sympathy. They met for a social interchange of opinions. They cast, as into a common treasury, the curiosities of literature which they had chanced to pick up in their daily reading. They discussed the merits of authors. They talked of current events, and criticised with unrestrained freedom the measures of parties. They read to each other fragments of those literary productions upon which they chanced to be engaged, and commented upon their beauties and defects. Sometimes the party was convulsed with mer