act of homage paid to Dickens by another man of renown, which has not been published, but which came to me through one who was present on the occasiona testimony of admiration, which, to quote the words of Mrs. Nickleby, when one of her insane lovers persisted in carving her initials on the pew door during Divine service, was "gratifying but embarrassing." Hans Andersen was staying at Gad's Hill, and came in one day from a country walk with an ill-shaped wreath of straggling, halfwithered hedge-row flowers in his hand. Approaching his host, who was quietly seated in his chair, with reverent solemnity, and making obeisance and genuflection, he placed the garlands (earwigs included) upon his head. The countenance of Dickens, again to quote his own words, as uttered by Mrs. Jarley, must have been "well worthy of hobservation, somewhat resembling the lineaments of an Oxford friend of mine, who, having won a steeplechase at Pau, was ornamented with a coronet of wild olives!

Dickens the name is ever music in my ears. I was reading the other day some letters which he wrote to "Our Mutual Friend," John Leech. He proposes a visit to the Britannia Saloon. "The bill," he writes, "announces a gentleman with a wooden leg to dance the Highland Fling, and contains a portrait of the performer, with his wooden leg profusely adorned with rosettes. This," he adds, "demands our attention."

In another note he writes, with reference to their meeting on the Great Western Rail"On Tues

day next a youth of noble form, and stately, but not severe presence, will be discovered on the steps of the first-class booking-office at the Paddington terminus, as the bells of the great city chime halfpast ten. In the features of that noble youth the observer will descry the features of the Inimitable, Dickens."

Again"Can you help me to find an inaccessible cave, to which I can retire from the memory of Prince Albert, and testimonials to the same? We have nothing solitary enough or deep enough in this part of the country."

And once more "If I am not at the Athenæum at four, consider me here at sixes and sevens.'

The most accomplished orator among Mr. Gladstone's contemporaries in the House of Commons was John Bright. His eloquence was like a stream of waters whose waters fail not, now flowing onward, like some exulting and abounding river,

"Broad, and deep, and brimming over,"

and now rippling and glittering over the shallows, but always pure and clear. He had the courage of his opinions. No mere party ties or considerations, no private friendships, however long and dear, could induce him to halt or to swerve upon the road which he had resolved to tread. Demosthenes betrayed his country for a bribe, received a large sum of money to defend a prisoner, and then appeared in court with his throat muffled, and pretended that he had lost his voice; and he ran away from the battle of Cheronæa. Cæsar, when he was poorly, whined,

"Give me to drink, Titinius," like a sick girl; but John Bright's oratory was like the wife of the latter, "above suspicion." Bright was a Liberal in the best sense of the word, not liberal at the expense of others, least of all of his country, but large-hearted in his desire and unselfish in his effort to promote the happiness of his fellow-men. I can give an illustration, known to few. A poor clergyman in his neighbourhood, who was making great efforts to rebuild his church, applied to Mr. Bright for a donation. Mr. Bright replied that, being a member of the Society of Friends, he could hardly be expected to build churches for other communions. The persistent parson quaintly represented, that a considerable sum was required for the removal of the ruins, and that though it might not be quite in accordance with Mr. Bright's principles to build up churches, there could be no inconsistency in pulling them down. Whereupon the kindly Quaker sent him a cheque for £10.

Lord Palmerston and Mr. D'Israeli were

"Arcades ambo,

Et cantare pares, et respondere parati,"

and I remember a very pretty duet, which I heard in the House of Commons. Towards the end of a session, Lord Palmerston, who was then Prime Minister, proclaimed with that manifest self-satisfaction, which inflated Master Horner's bosom, when he put in his thumb and pulled out a plum, and said, "What a good boy am I!"-a long list of the parliamentary proceedings, measures proposed and

passed by the Government. D'Israeli listened with an expression of placid and supreme indifference, which must have been trying to his adversary, and rose, when his turn came, to say, that "he hoped the world would duly appreciate the inestimable blessings conferred upon it by the noble lord, who had so kindly and fully described them, Providence, of course, having had nothing to do with it, but that he ventured," etc., etc. His look of imperturbable apathy was far more aggravating than any sign or sound of irritation, and when he yawned in the midst of a speech of vehement denunciation from Mr. Gladstone, and that illustrious statesman seemed as though he would like to jump down his throat, he put his hand upon the broad table, which separated them, and afterwards expressed his gratitude for such a barrier to protect him from the fury of his adversary. He had been laughed at by the members of the House, when he made his first speech; he had vowed, with that true courage, which learns to conquer from defeat, and rides harder after a fall, that one day he would make them hear him, and now that he was master of the situation, he took care to let them know it. But very rare is this brave spirit, which "learns to labour and to wait," and therefore it is easy to answer the question I propose now to consider.

XIII.

WHY ARE SPEAKERS SO MANY AND ORATORS

SO FEW?

Vain Excuses-No Effort of Preparation - Daunted by Failure - Earnestness the Indispensable Element of Success-Cor paratum - The Speaker must be Master of his Subject, and must make a Clear Plan of his Argument - Utterance and Manner.

THERE is no real effort. Men essay to speak without a thoughtful preparation, and when they fail, they plead that eloquence is a natural gift, and cannot be acquired—such a man, they say, is a born orator, nascitur non fit.

66

“While yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame,

He lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came."

"They have not the talent." How do they know? They have never tried to "stir up the gift. When the Irishman was asked, "whether he could play the fiddle?" he answered, "that he did not know, because he had never tried;" but these men seem to have had a more robust confidence that they could succeed without previous experiment, and when they discovered that the mere approximation of the bow to the strings only resulted in discord, they were discouraged unto despair.

Some make a small effort to succeed. They think for a few minutes, write down their thoughts, and