:

Still, though speeches need not be composed, for this we contend,-that a speaker, if he would do himself and his audience justice on any great occasion, should give himself to a preparation so prolonged (probably it would demand nearly as large expenditure of time as if every word had been written and committed to memory) that the substance and the method, the matter and order, of the thoughts shall be perfectly familiar; further, that he shall not only be in complete possession of sharply defined thoughts, and the precise order in which they shall be delivered, but that his mind shall glow with them; that he shall "muse" till "the fire burns;" till every faculty in the degree in which it may be possessed is fairly kindled. The task is not complete till not only the arguments and illustrations have been supplied to memory, but even (as will be the case in the course of such preparation) the utmost felicitous terms, the most salient phrases, have been suggested, and are vividly present; after which they will be almost sure to suggest themselves at the right moment, recalled by the matter in which they are embedded, and with which they are indissolubly connected by the laws of association. In this case the "beggarly particles," as we have called them, the "buts" and the "ands," and the "ifs," and the other connectives, as well as the little forms of construction and collocation, may be disregarded, or left to take care of themselves. They will not constitute (as in the case of exact reproduction from written composition) an oppressive burden to the memory,—producing, where the effort of memory has not been quite perfect, a feeling of constraint and frigidity in the delivery; or where it has been perfect, the appearance, not less undesirable, of artificiality in the composition.

brilliancy if it could be supposed premedi- | regards construction-without which a speaktated. But secondly, not only do the fewer can never attain the crown of excellence. apparent exceptions confirm the rule, but, in fact, there are very rarely any exceptions at all. When a man replies to another, the very fact usually shows that he has already been studying the whole bearings of the subject; the very arguments of his opponent have given him his brief, suggested his materials, and generally even the order and method of his topics, while, if there has been any thing of animosity between the men, the very attack itself has tended to provoke into uttermost intensity all those energetic passions which sway the intellect and the fancy at their will. We cannot quit this subject without repeating our earnest wish that the generality of public speakers were a little more likely to incur the reproach of prolonged preparation. It would be a great saving to the public of time and patience less would be said, and yet more; more matter in fewer words. Not, of course, that we plead for carefully written compositions, and the exact delivery thereof from memory even to the precise reproduction of every little beggarly particle and connective; nor do we plead, indeed, for written compositions at all. A servile adherence to manuscript, however pardonable or necessary it may be during early attempts and for a limited time, is not only a sure method of extinguishing all the more pointed characteristics of the vivid spoken style, but involves an intolerable bondage, of which a mind of great power will, at the earliest possible period, seek to rid itself. There is "a more excellent way" for the experienced speaker, or one who has tolerably advanced in the art; and it should be his early ambition ultimately to perfect himself in it. He must write indeed much at one time or another, and continue to write on some subjects or other (and that carefully) all his days, if he would attain and perpetuate that general accuracy and command of language-copious as regards the sources of diction, precise as regards the selection of terms, and closely articulated as

It is well observed in a recent number of the Quarterly Review," of Mr. Disraeli, certainly one of the readiest debaters the House of Commons ever produced-"An ever-ready speaker, his premeditated orations, that is to say, those over which he has had some time-no matter how short-to ponder, are nevertheless infinitely better than those prompted by the exigency of the moment. He will sometimes from this cause reply better to the earlier part of an antagonist's argument than to its close, and his own peroration is seldom so effective as what, in dramatic language, may be called the crisis of his speech."

Such preparation as this, we heartily wish we could trace a little more of, among our public speakers; and if it be a reproach at all, that they would graciously incur it. We should not, in that case, have to toil so wearily through arid and sterile deserts of mere verbiage. The House of Commons, in particular, would not have its invaluable time wasted in listening to negligent and pitiless diffuseness, nor the columns of the "Times" and the pages of "Hansard" so often filled with "vain repetitions." Neither would there session in carting the legislative harvest, be such sudden hurry just at the close of the which the House of Lords declares that there is no time to gather into the garner, and

leaves to rot on the ground! It cannot, we fear, be denied that there are numberless speeches of three or four columns, the whole substance of which is perfectly reproduced, and often with great accession of point and perspicuity, in the little summaries with which some of the leading newspapers give the results of a night's debate. Merciful condensations to a busy world! How little need the public envy the long sittings of their senators, able as they thus are to pluck in ten minutes the little fruit from amidst the redundant foliage of the "Collective Wis

dom!"

the savage about him, as well as many other qualities, to insure much renown in it.

But the other obstacles hinted at is not less in Mr. Macaulay's way. The disquisitory character of his intellect better loves the serener regions of politics-perhaps, we ought to say, its less turbulent regions, for which of them is serene? It is evident that he prefers, wherever it is possible, an exposition of his views unfettered by polemical considerations; and, indeed, he never contents himself with a mere running fight through the several topics of an antagonist's argument. Admirable as are many of his replies to previous speakers-and some of them are very effective specimens of debatethey have generally been delivered after a little interval for reflection, are for that reason couched in a courteous and temperate tone, and as might be expected from the qualities of mind on which we have just been insistabound in argument and illustration which overlap the limits of mere confutation, and show how willingly the speaker bounds away to aspects of his subject independent of party conflict. In one or two places he frankly avows (what his speeches show) how little ambitious he is of achieving only a debater's triumphs.

There is one character in which, it must be confessed, Mr Macaulay has achieved less reputation than many other men in every way his inferiors; much less, we are convinced, than he might have achieved had he made it the object of his ambition,-we mean as a debater. The parliamentary duello, no doubt, when the talents for this species of contesting, are of the first order, has a strong tendency to bring out, in all their perfection, all the characteristics of what is then, most literally, the "wrestling style." We think that Mr. Macaulay's comparative inferiority for this sort of work is easily accounted for; partly from the character of his mind, and partly from his never having particularly aspired to success in it. To take the last first. It can hardly be doubted that with such diversified knowledge, accuracy, and promptness of memory, activity of suggestion, fertility of imagination, and imperial command of language, he might have done far more in this way, than he has ever done; since minds of far less compass and endowments than his own have, with perseverance, made themselves (even after years of comparative failure) very accomplished debaters. But it is equally evident that he has never been very solicitous of this species of reputation; and we cannot blame him. These conflicts are necessarily attended with much that is unpleasant in the acting, and when party spirit runs high, not a little that is unpleasant in retrospection. A mind that is not decidedly "combative," or that has much sense of dignity, naturally shrinks from the close encounter with indi viduals, and prefers the task of expounding and defending political views on general grounds, and with the least possible reference to opponents. Exciting, no doubt, is this species of intellectual gladiatorship, when private animosity, and the rivalry of ambition, sharpen political differences, and the combatants, in fierce personal grapple, shorten their swords for a death-blow. But it requires, perhaps, that a man should have a little of

Though, as we have already said, we cannot doubt that a mind so richly endowed could, by sedulous practice, have obtained a much larger reputation for this species of oratory, a more than usually lengthened practice (always indeed a condition,) would probably have been necessary in his case; and that from those very characteristics of mind which fit him for a more comprehensive treatment of political questions. The more large a man's views, the more ample his stores of knowledge, the more difficult often is it to adjust himself to the rapid movements of that guerilla warfare in which debaters chiefly shine. It is a curious and true observation of one of our philosophic writers, that minds of the first order often require longer time for the acquisition of the habit of adroit adaptation to the ordinary exigences of life, than men of far inferior powers, who yet can brilliantly manoeuvre their more manageable forces on a more limited field. The former are often too fastidious, too solicitous in marshalling their battalions, to do themselves extemporaneous justice. They must have their conclusions based on the most comprehensive survey, their method and argumentation without a flaw, their front and their rear alike cared for, before they will move-and while they are pausing how to effect the best disposition of their forces, the occasion, which

From Chambers's Journal.

REMARKABLE NAVAL DUELS.

ALTHOUGH it is by no means unfrequent, I held a considerable advantage to obtain the during a war between great naval powers, for actions à l'outrance to be fought by wellmatched single ships, it is very rare for a similar engagement to occur in consequence of a special mutual agreement to fight-in other words, for two ships of presumably equal force to strive for victory, expressly in consequence of a challenge having been sent by the captain of the one, and accepted by the captain of the other. Such an affair is something very different from ordinary casual meetings of hostile vessels, and is literally a ship-duel. Only two notable engagements of this description, to the best of our knowledge, have occurred within the last sixty years. In both cases, English captains were the challengers-their antagonists being respectively French and American. For our own part, we are as much interested by a spirited narrative of a well-fought single ship action, as by one of a regular battle on a grand scale between large fleets. Take up any popular account of the battle of St. Vincent, or the Nile, or Trafalgar, and—unless you happen to be a professional man, well read in John Clerk of Eldin's Naval Tactics, and able to appreciate and criticise every manoeuvrethe probability is, that long ere the engagement is brought to a triumphant conclusion, you grow rather confused, and finally lay down the book with a hazy sort of conception that it was a very gallant and terrible battle, won by British skill and valor-and that is all you know and understand. But in reading about a single ship action you can concentrate your attention better; and although you may hardly know the jib-boom from the spanker boom, you can form a tolerably correct idea of the progress of the fight, and of the effect of each change of position, and the material damage and loss on the part of the respective ships. Our limits will permit us to give only brief and condensed sketches of the remarkable actions we propose to cite, and which we will preface by a few general

remarks.

In all naval battles, and especially in actions between single ships, it has ever been

weather-gage at the commencement, and, if possible, to retain it throughout the engagement. Of course this is by no means so important where steamships of war are engaged, as they can change their positions at pleasure; but no ranged battle has, up to this period, occurred between steamers, although it is highly probable that we shall hear of several during the present war. The advantages of securing the weather-gage--that is, being to windward of the antagonist-are various. It enables a ship of good sailing qualities to defer engaging, or to bear plump down on the enemy at once, at option. Moreover, if the enemy discharge their broadsides at a medium range, the weather-ship's side is less exposed, while the leeward-ship's side is more exposed to shot than would be the case were they respectively in any other position; and should they go about on a fresh tack, the shot-holes of the former will be clear of the water, while those of the latter will possibly prove dangerous leaks. Again, the windward-ship can bear up and rakethat is, stand athwart the bow or stern of her adversary, and discharge in succession all the broadside-guns, so as to sweep the upper-deck from end to end, or desperately damage the stern, the weakest portion of a ship. As soon as hostile vessels come in sight of each other, the drum beats to quarters, and the crew prepare for action. The tackles of the guns are overhauled; the tompions withdrawn; shot of all descriptions placed ready for use; and the magazines opened by the gunner and his crew, who make ready to serve out cartridges. The carpenter prepares his plugs for shot-holes, and his fishes for wounded spars, rigs the pumps to prepare for a leak, &c.; the bulkheads are knocked down, or triced up to the beams, as the case may be; the great cabins are unceremoniously cleared of the officer's furniture, &c.; and every deck, fore and aft, is put in fighting order. The surgeons dispossess the midshipmen of the cockpit, and the erst convivial table is spread with tourniquets, forceps, plasters, and amputating in