are so difficult as this same standing still. Graceful inaction therefore would seem to be another added to the long list of the orator's accomplishments, and no more likely to come by nature' than graceful action."—("THE SPEAKING VOICE," Hullah, pp. 50 and 51).

Finally-Be in earnest; practise constantly; learn by heart. Till a reader tries it, he will never know the immense advantage he gains by committing passages to memory. New beauties disclose themselves—beauties which we pass over entirely in simply reading a poem. But let the student learn a true poem by rote—one calculated to refine his thoughts and elevate his sentiments-having it once fixed in his mind, no power can ever take it away, but it remains his cherished possession for all time.

I think, indeed, that the words of reproach uttered by the banished Duke of Norfolk might not inaptly be applied to the person who does not pay any attention to culture as a reader and speaker :

"And now my tongue's use is to me no more

Than an unstringed viol or a harp,

Or like a cunning instrument cased up,

Or, being open, put into his hands

That knows no touch to tune the harmony:

Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue,
Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips."

(III.) Much has been said and written to prove a selfevident fact-viz., that it is an advantage to read and speak well. However, I believe the time has at length arrived when Elocution is considered to be a necessary branch of study in the vast majority of schools. Cer

tainly it is a necessity for all entering the ministry of the Church, the Bar, or the Senate-house.

In every-day life, is it not disgraceful to witness the futile efforts of the schoolboy, when asked by his family to read a passage in the daily paper? Does he render it correctly and without hesitation?—or, rather, does he not stumble through the article, finding every unusual word a break-neck fence, and running sentence into sentence in the most ludicrous manner, until finally he is asked to cease altogether; for the powers of human endurance are limited?

In reference to reading of poetry, De Quincey has said

"No accomplishment is so rare. People in general either read poetry without any passion at all, or else 'o'erstep the modesty of nature', and read not like scholars."

When speaking of reading poetry with action, the great Lord Clarendon remarked that it was

"The best and most natural way to introduce an assurance and confidence in speaking, with that leisure and tone of pronunciation that is decent and graceful, and in which so few men are excellent, for want of information and care when they are young."

Eloquence has won its trophies since the world began, and will go on conquering the souls of men to the end of time. One of the most important items of Oratory is Elocution, as commonplace remarks, delivered well, will tell better than the most elaborate and talented speech uttered without life or energy.

How sad it is to go into the house of God, and hear the service mumbled in an undertone, so that none, save

the select few who chance to have sittings within a dozen yards of the reading-desk, can hear what is being said. The dull, slow monotony, or irreverent, fast gabbling of the prayers is beyond expression painful. The sermon lifelessly delivered, with the head buried in the book, has no attractions for the worshippers, and certainly does not succeed in riveting attention.

But if we look at the few churches where sermon, psalm, and prayer, are delivered with reverent fervour, and see what large congregations attend, and how much good is done in such places of worship, we must readily admit that Elocution is of vital importance in the services of the Most High.

Let a man enter Parliament, or attempt to succeed at the Bar-will he deliver his orations in a lazy monotone? or, rather, will he not strive, by elocutionary power, to indulge in outbursts of fine declamation, or to melt his hearers by unutterable pathos? True, "the orator's voice has a mighty power;" but would it have that omnipotent sway were it not modulated to express at will, passion and tenderness, and every various emotion of which the human soul is capable?

Note. It is but right to mention, with regard to the Humorous and Dramatic selections, that, in certain cases, words or phrases have been omitted; but in no instance has any substitution been adopted.

DIVISION I-SERIOUS, PATHETIC, &c.

PART I.-PROSE.

THE DEATH OF JO.

Jo is very glad to see his old friend; and says, when they are left alone, that he takes it uncommon kind as Mr. Sangsby should come so far out of his way on accounts of sich as him. Mr. Snagsby, touched by the spectacle before him, immediately lays upon the table half-a-crown: that magic balsam of his for all kinds of wounds.

"And how do you find yourself, my poor lad?" inquires the stationer, with his cough of sympathy.

"I am in luck, Mr. Sangsby, I am," returns Jo, "and don't want for nothink. I'm more cumfbler nor you can't think. Mr. Sangsby! I'm wery sorry that I done it, but I didn't go fur to do it, sir."

The stationer softly lays down another half-crown, and asks him what it is that he is sorry for having done?

"Mr. Sangsby," says Jo, "I went and giv a illness to the lady as wos and yit as warn't the t'other lady, and none of 'em never says nothink to me for having done it, on accounts of their being ser good and my having been s' unfortnet. The lady come herself and see me yesday, and she ses, 'Ah Jo!' she ses. 'We thought we'd lost you, Jo!' she ses. And she sits down a smilin so quiet, and don't pass a word nor yit a look upon me for having done it, she don't, and I

B