light: "An inquiring spirit is not a presumptuous one, but the very contrary. He whose whole recorded life was intended to be our perfect example, is described as gaining instruction in the temple by hearing and asking questions; the one is almost useless without the other. We should ask questions of our books and of ourselves, what is its purpose, by what means it proceeds to effect that purpose, whether we fully understand the one, whether we go along with the other. Do the arguments satisfy us? do the descriptions convey lively and distinct images to us? do we understand all the allusions to persons or things? In short, does our mind act over again from the writer's guidance what his acted before? do we reason as he reasoned, conceive as he conceived, think and feel as he thought and felt? or if not, can we discern where and how far we do not, and can we tell why we do not?

Questioning has also a place in rhetoric as well as in research. Frankly conducted, it is a mode of conviction without offense. To whatever an opponent urges, with which we do not agree, of course we have some objection. Put this objection incidentally, and ask it as a question, what answer can be given to it? This is a good conversational mode of debate, where the improvement of an opponent, rather than a triumph over him, is the object. It is not showy, but it is searching.

In a similar way confidence may be acquired by diffident speakers. A novitiate conversationalist is shy of taking part in debating a topic lest he should not be able to sustain himself. To such I have said: Put your argument in the form of an objection which some would urge, and beg some one of the company

to tell you what he would say in reply. If to this answer you have an objection further, put that also in the querist form; for a man will be able to ask a question who would never be able to make a speech. By this easy means the most diffident may get into conversation; and when once excited will speak freely enough, perhaps too freely. A coward will fight when he grows warm in strife.

This method has another advantage: by this means a novice learns the best answers which the company can give to his own argument, and thus, without risk of exposure, he learns their weakness or finds out their strength. He has also taken the guage of his opponents' powers, and can, if he sees well, match himself against them.

CHAPTER XXIII.

REPETITION.

THE reformer who comprehends his mission attempts the discipline of the people in nobler views. Only great natures are heroic by instinct.. But it is not more true that all men are eloquent sometimes than that all men are noble sometimes; but few continue so, for want of the influence of suitable circumstances to nourish and sustain the feeling. Every man is great when he lays down Pluturch, but the feeling dies away in the contact with the lower life of cities. To remedy this the reformer has recourse to reiteration.

In introducing a new topic to an auditory a wise speaker repeats the same sentiment and argument in many different forms of expression, each in itself brief, but all together affording such an expansion of the sense to be conveyed, and detaining the mind. upon it, as the case may require. Care must be taken that the repetition may not be too glaringly apparent; the variations must not consist in the mere use of other synonymous words, but what has been expressed in appropriate terms may be repeated in metaphorical; the antecedent or consequent of any argument or the parts of an antithesis may be transposed, or several different points that have been enumerated presented in a varied order.

It is given to reiteration to accomplish that which is denied to power. The reputation of Robespierre, now breaking a little through clouds of calumny denser and darker than ever before obscured human name, is a striking illustration of the omnipotence of repetition. The most eloquent of its vindicators has thus sketched his triumph:

"Still deeper in the shade, and behind the chief of the National Assembly, a man almost unknown began to move, agitated by uneasy thoughts, which seemed to forbid him to be silent and unmoved; he spoke on all occasions, and attacked all speakers indifferently, including Mirabeau himself. Driven from the tribune, he ascended it next day; overwhelmed with sarcasm, coughed down, disowned by all parties, lost among the eminent champions who fixed public attention, he was incessantly beaten, but never dispirited. It might have been said that an inward and prophetic genius revealed to him the vanity of all talent and the omnipotence of a firm will and un

wearied patience, and that an inward voice said to him: These men who despise thee are thine; all the changes of this revolution, which now will not deign to look upon thee, will eventually terminate in thee, for thou hast placed thyself in the way like the inevitable excess, in which all impulse ends.""

CHAPTER XXIV.

POETRY.

SUCH proverbs as "poets are born and not made," have encouraged the notion that inspiration does everything for the poet and art nothing; whereas inspiration gives him the idea, and art enables him to express it. It is very probable that "creative" capacity is an element in the poetic nature which art does not make, but educates only. Yet experience teaches us that decided poetic power sometimes sinks into the commonplace, and that that which has been pronounced mediocre has been cultured into excellence. We therefore ought to pause before treating so disdainfully, as is the fashion, the humble versifiers who from time to time solicit the world's notice. Certainly Byron's "Hours of Idleness" were as weak a specimen of the poetic as patrician or plebeian fancy ever concocted. It gave no sign of that fierce power which was afterward evoked from the same pen. Both Burns and Elliott have been greatly indebted, perhaps as much indebted, to art as to their ideas for the distinction which attaches to their names. Many

a name of note now might be cited whose infantile genius was rocked in the cradle of doggerel.

Between rhyme and poetry there is a great gulf, which patient study alone may bridge over. Some of the intermediate steps may be indicated. The gradations may be explained, which, though all may not be able to pass through, all may be able to understand and determine their own position in reference to them.

A Sunderland candidate for Parnassian laurels lately presented the public with the following very A-B-C effort:

Even the rudest kind of verse should have some qualities not found in prose. What poetry is it is not easy to define satisfactorily. But this is agreed upon, that whatever is called poetry ought to contain an idea or ideas above the level of prose, and such as cannot be so well expressed in prose. Now ordinary prose, if tolerable, is grammatical, but the verse above quoted has not this quality. In verse the corresponding terminations of lines should rhyme; this rule is also neglected. Corresponding lines should have the same number of syllables in them; that is, should have the same measure, the same quantity of accented and unaccented sounds. The versifier we have cited. seems innocent of any such requirement. Indeed, the majority of those who publish rhymes never have paid the least attention to these essential elements of verse. Many, indeed, have never heard that there