that every writer of sermons should be eloquent,
it cannot be thought essential that every speaker should be so. But the
same powers which have enabled him to write, will, with sufficient
discipline, enable him to speak; with every probability that when he
comes to speak with the same ease and collectedness, he will do it with
a nearer approach to eloquence. Without such discipline he has no right
to hope for success; let him not say that success is impossible, until
he has submitted to it.

I apprehend that these remarks will be found not only correct in theory,
but agreeable to experience. With the exceeding little systematic
cultivation of the art which there is amongst us, and no actual
instruction, we find that a great majority of the lawyers in our courts,
and not a small portion of the members of our legislatures, are able to
argue and debate. In some of the most popular and quite numerous
religious sects, we find preachers enough, who are able to communicate
their thoughts and harangue their congregations, and exert very powerful
and permanent influence over large bodies of the people. Some of these
are men of as small natural talents and as limited education, as any
that enter the sacred office. It should seem therefore that no one needs
to despair.

In the ancient republics of Greece and Rome, this accomplishment was a
necessary branch of a finished education. A much smaller proportion of
the citizens were educated than amongst us; but of these a much larger
number became orators. No man could hope for distinction or influence,
and yet slight this art.[10] The commanders of their armies were orators
as well as soldiers, and ruled as well by their rhetorical as by their
military skill. There was no trusting with them as with us, to a natural
facility, or the acquisition of an accidental fluency by actual
practice. But they served an apprenticeship to the art. They passed
through a regular course of instruction in schools. They submitted to
long and laborious discipline. They exercised themselves frequently,
both before equals and in the presence of teachers, who criticised,
reproved, rebuked, excited emulation, and left nothing undone which art
and perseverance could accomplish. The greatest orators of antiquity, so
far from being favored by natural tendencies, except indeed in their
high intellectual endowments, had to struggle against natural obstacles;
and instead of growing up spontaneously to their unriv