Their palate is too nice not to discover the mixture, and they are perhaps too often disposed rather to reject the whole, than to swallow the bad for the sake of the good. We do not say that this is correct; but that this fastidiousness is the natural result of a partial cultivation, there can be no doubt. Thus it is certain that very great and important effect is produced by field preachers, whom the majority of the educated would call vulgar and illiterate. But the truth is, such men generally possess some of the most important requisites of real eloquence; and with all their coarseness they exhibit a vigor of conception, a strength of language, and an earnestness of manner, which wiser men would do well to acquire. But will any one pretend that the same vigor and strength would be less powerful if it were likewise graceful; or that the same earnestness would not be at least equally attractive, if it were accompanied with purity of language and correctness of thought? There is another fact worthy of attention. Men of education generally form for themselves an ideal standard of excellence, by which they are very apt to measure the merits of a particular performance. But it is not so with the mass; these latter, when they listen to a speech, are glad to be pleased at any rate, and, provided it affords them amusement or excitement, they seldom think of making comparisons, or of entering into an inquiry, whether the occasion did not allow the speaker to produce an effect of a different or a higher kind. But although satisfied, for the time, with what has but little merit, and perhaps many positive faults, it does not follow that they would not have been more deeply and permanently affected with such a performance, as would likewise have commanded the approbation of men of more intellectual refinement. We might find illustration of the truth of these remarks, every time we attend the theatre. If in the beginning of a piece, a second rate performer appears, whatever may be his affectation, however unnatural his measured enunciation, and imperfect his conception of his part, yet if he possess a fine voice, a handsome figure, and a tolerable degree of spirit and animation in his bad acting, the majority of the audience will applaud and appear as they really are, perfectly satisfied. And if no better acting were presented, they would go home warm in their approbation of what they had seen. But let another actor of genius and of more taste appear, and the late favorite sinks into neglect, he struts and rants almost unnoticed; and by the deep silence which at one moment fills the house, and the enthusiasm with which, at the next, the applauses are poured forth, it may be seen how much deeper and more real is the interest now felt. But how happens it then, especially since the common people are more disposed to applaud than to condemn, that we so often hear orations and sermons, which are thought good by men of education, but to the merits of which other men are totally blind? We answer, that it must be owing to some fault, generally it is true to some negative fault, in the style or structure of the piece. Dulness, for instance, is what a mixed audience will never tolerate; and it is almost the only sin which an orator may not sometimes commit with impunity. But, notwithstanding the style of an oration may be rather dull and jejune, yet if it contains sensible and sound thought, and is besides critically correct, men of refinement will often vouchsafe it their approbation. But they would not pretend that there was eloquence in the piece; nor ought they to be surprised, that men, to whom mental exertion is not habitual, do not find a recompense for dulness of manner, in mere correctness of thought. But besides this, a style may not only be correct, but highly polished; and yet be but poorly fitted for oratory. An oration, for instance, written in the manner of Dugald Stewart, would, even if listened to, produce no effect upon a mixed audience. This is not because his style wants ornament; nor because it is used in treating of profound subjects. We frequently hear arguments at the bar upon subjects fully as perplexed, founded on the most hidden principles of human nature or of civil society, composed too in a style of chaste and even severe oratory, which nevertheless command the most fixed attention of every part of the audience. But it is, that such a style, as that just mentioned, admirable as it is in its place, is really defective, when considered in reference to the purposes of the orator. It wants fulness; it does not give the connecting links in the chain of thought, as they ought to be given in a spoken address; it leaves too much to be supplied by the hearer. In the hands of the orator, therefore, it would be an obscure style, without implying an obscurity in his own mind. It should be recollected too, that there ought to be a difference in the structure, as well as in the style, of a piece which is intended to be spoken, and one which is intended. only for the eye of the reader. It is owing to a forgetfulness of this difference, that many very sensible written orations fail of producing any important effect. A very great portion of those performances which we hear from the pulpit are mere essays. A man chooses a subject, and sits down to write whatever he thinks important, of, about, or connected with that subject; the consequence is that if his hearers follow him in his course of thought, they discover no definite point to which his remarks were directed, and the discourse is only remembered by one or two more striking observations, which are left floating in the mind, and of course are soon lost. But when a man starts for the purpose of proving particular truths, or of producing particular impressions, he will naturally give a close texture and an unity to his discourse. His hearers, if he make himself intelligible, will discover a direction and an object in what he says; and although he should deal out no gaudy sentences to be remembered by themselves, yet the impression produced by the whole will remain, and with it much of the general course of thought by which that impression was produced. We believe, then, that in every instance, where good sense and taste have failed of producing their just effect, the failure may be accounted for without supposing that the people require false declamation. Real eloquence-such as men of taste may admire—is never disregarded but under the most extraordinary circumstances; and nothing else is ever certain of producing a real and permanent effect. If a man's ambition is to be satisfied with the momentary applauses of the vulgar, applause which any good rope-dancer might rob him of, why let him collect a few sounding epithets, and as much unnatural imagery as he can, and 'spout forth a little frothy water on a gaudy day, and remain silent all the rest of the year.' But let him not expect that even the multitude will cede to him the influence or the permanent reputation of an orator. We have no wish to proscribe ornament or to recommend a cold style of address. All the ardor which a man naturally imbibes from his subject, all the ornament which sets easily and gracefully about him, is correct, and it is useful. And we confess that we should be glad to see more of such warmth in the oratory of this part of the country; and that we think the style of such of our public speakers, as are above the use of false ornament, is not unfrequently too cold and phlegmatic. But we have no wish to see even this changed for that artificial swell and frothy decla mation, which is fashionable in some other sections of the country. We have spent more time in these remarks, than we should have done, did we not know, though their truth may not be denied in words, how often they are disregarded in practice, even by men of just pretensions to taste. And that it is but too common for such men, in appearing before the people, to do it with an internal conviction, that they must adopt a style, of which upon other occasions they would be ashamed. THE CHARACTER OF AN HISTORIAN. HISTORY, according to the ancients, is one of the muses, and it is her duty no less than that of the others to give pleasure while she gives instruction. The mere enumeration of important events, however correct and circumstantial, is not history, nor has the annalist, the chronologist, or the antiquary any claim to be called an historian. He, who aspires to this name, must not only state great achievements truly and particularly, display the characters and motives of those who performed them, and trace their consequences; he must arrange and connect the facts recorded by him, which are but the fragments of history, in such a manner that they may illustrate each other, and clothe them in a simple and dignified style, thus rendering them one uniform and beautiful whole. He must not only dare to utter no falsehood and fear to utter no truth, but must catch with the eye and des-cribe with the pen of the poet those general features and striking peculiarities, which characterise and identify the scenes of his narrative or the actors in them; and recalling them, as it were, into existence, place them living and moving before us. Though perfectly impartial towards all persons, he is not to be indifferent to the moral qualities of actions or their influence on the happiness of men, nor to relate in one unvarying tone of apathy the triumph of justice, and that of guilt, the self-devotion of disinterested patriotism, and the recklessness of ambition; but should appeal to the feelings as boldly, though not in the same manner as the poet or the orator; and exhibit animated models of character and impressive lessons of conduct. 38 INSCRIPTION FOR THE ENTRANCE INTO A WOOD. STRANGER, if thou hast learnt a truth, which needs. And view the haunts of nature. The calm shade But not in vengeance. Misery is wed To guilt. And hence these shades are still the abodes That sucks its sweets. The massy rocks themselves, Sends forth glad sounds, and, tripping o'er its bed |