solemn pitch, chiefly; in that of another, from its majestic fullness and swell; in that of a third, from its prolongation and slowness of sound; whilst all these properties may still be traced united in the style of each; with this distinction, only, that while one quality preponderates in one speaker, another may in another. A similar remark applies to gesture. Constitution and temperament may incline one speaker to one shade of difference in the line or the force of an action, and another to another; and yet both may coïncide in the general style and effect.

Our prevalent modes of education permit all individual tendencies to be swallowed up in one engulfing routine of neglect or prescription. The preacher, therefore, under the influence of such early training, comes before us divested of that native originality of manner, which is so distinctly felt as the eloquence of private communication. To recover his individuality, he must reform and renovate his whole style of speaking, so as to let his own nature shine through it. In address, heart "only is the loan for " heart. But how seldom can its throb be felt through the enveloping folds of false and formal habit!

The preacher who would successfully discharge the duty of his office, must acquire the power of throwing his personal character into his manner. Mere elocution is a poor substitute for the living sympathy of soul in the man who addresses us. The former, even when it is perfect, gains only admiration: the latter wins the whole heart, and convinces the mind, at once, of the speaker's sincerity, and of the truth of what he utters.

We hear, sometimes, a just complaint of the influence and tendency of ceremony in religion. But no robing or costume so effectually enwraps the soul, as a ceremonious tone, which offers to the ear the language of the office and not of the man.

DIGNITY, FAMILIARITY.

Man's upright form and noble stature are naturally attended by dignity in movement and action. An erect attitude, a lofty carriage, a commanding air, are characteristic even of the savage who spends his days in little else than asserting his dominion over the brutes, or communicating with his fellows whose habits are but a little more elevated than those of the animals which they hunt. Civilized life, by its enervating influence, brings down the erect and heroic mien, and the fearless demeanor, which are natural to man, while consciously sufficient to himself, and independent of factitious support. The courtesy and the condescensions of refinement, bring along with them tameness and feebleness in manner and in character: a bland and flexible exterior takes, in the forms of conventional habit, the place of the manly and majestic port of nature.

The transition from childhood to manhood, is attended with similar effects on the aspect and deportment of the human being. The unconscious, unabashed child exhibits, often, the noblest forms of attitude and action. The school-boy loses his self-possession, and shrinks and cowers, in the consciousness of being observed: he lacks the decision, the firmness, and the dignity of manner, which he possessed in earlier life, when mingling with his equals and companions. The bearing of the youth gives still stronger evidence of being vitiated by self-consciousness, and overweening regard for the estimation of others. The speaker, who, in the maturity of manhood, addresses his fellow-beings, manifests, not unfrequently, in his crest-fallen air, in his hesitating utterance and embarrassed actions, his want of conscious elevation and power, and betrays the fact that he does not approach the task with a manly reliance on himself and his subject. Self-respect seems to desert him, when subjected to ob

servation his nature appears to shrink, rather than to' expand, with the circumstances in which he is placed.

Eloquence, the result of expressive power, is a thing unattainable in such a situation; for eloquence implies freedom, manly firmness, and force, a genuine moral courage, a conscious elevation of soul, a positive inspiration of mind. It presupposes that the speaker stands, for the moment, above those whom he addresses, for the very purpose of lifting them up to the level of his own views and inspiring them with his own feelings. The persuasive condescension of the orator is never incompatible with the native majesty of man.

The preacher, more than any other speaker, should evince a just consciousness of the noble nature of his commission. Haughtiness, undoubtedly, or arrogance of manner, is utterly incompatible with the meek spirit of the Christian minister. But a due sense of the dignity of his office, should breathe an air of genuine nobleness into all his expression. It should equally forbid a disturbing and degrading consciousness of the presence of his fellow-nien, and an unbecoming remissness or familiarity of manner, on his own part, by which he might seem to let down his just self-respect, or his regard for the sacred office which he is called to fill.

One mode of address by which the pulpit is lowered in the estimation of the world, is that undignified familiarity of tone, which some preachers assume, under the impres-, sion that such a manner is the proper way to be easy and natural in utterance, and thus to gain access to the minds of their hearers. The line, in such cases, is not drawn between conversation and mere talk, much less between private and public conversation. Simplicity, natu ralness, and directness of style, all demand an analogy to serious and elevated conversation, in the utterance of the preacher But the dignity of the pulpit forbids all talking familiarity and slipshod ease which border on carelessness of air and manner. The sacredness of association with

which the place and the man are invested, should be felt by the preacher, not less than the people, as a barrier of sanctity against every freedom which tends to desecrate the pulpit.

The leaning and lounging attitudes, and the slack, familiar gestures in which some preachers permit themselves to indulge, bear more resemblance to the air of the toil-worn rustic, resting his wearied frame on the fencerail, as he chats with his neighbor at the close of the day, than to the deportment of one who is or should be fulfilling a nobler function than was ever imagined in the highest conceptions of the ancient orator. It is true that dignity is not stiffness, nor decorum constraint. But some speakers in the pulpit seem never to have drawn the line that separates freedom from negligence and slovenliness of manner, ease and self-possession from low familiarity and nonchalance. If there is one spot on earth where the stamp of vulgar habit and association is disgusting, it is the pulpit, which even the grossest minds are inclined to regard with veneration. Nor is it going too far, to assert, that nothing has so strong a tendency to diminish the proper influence of the pulpit, as the remissness of its occupant, regarding the first requirements of personal dignity in him who conducts the office of public worship, and presents, for the time, the living impersonation of religious sentiment.*

*The slovenly habit of former years, of allowing the hand to repose in the pocket, used to extend itself to some pulpits. A negative rule of attitude is, in all forms of address, that the speaker's right hand should be by his side, when not raised in gesture, as the very dropping and the stillness of the hand are properly parts of the effect of gesture. The act of addressing a public assembly, implies that the speaker is in possession of sufficient health and strength to stand on his feet, and to support his own weight. It forbids, therefore, the sluggish habit of leaning on surrounding objects. Dignity of carriage forbids equally the indolent air produced by resting one hand on the side, on the back, or anywhere on the speaker's person. Convenience and freedom of manner allow the left hand to repose on or near the speaker's notes, so

A few hours' attention to the subject would enable the preacher to recognize the appropriate traits of becoming dignity and elevation of manner, and to avoid habits which are offensive to the general sense of propriety, not less than to refined taste. A single glance at the mirror in his room, while the speaker was at practice, would be the most effectual admonition to guard against those writhings of the body, noddings of the head, and jerkings of the arm, which degrade the preacher into the free and easy debater at a club-meeting. A few weeks' study of the principles of gesture, would open up to the mind a whole world of association, and of law and principle, regarding attitude and action. It would mould the speaker's whole outward man anew, and, at least, cut off the glaring errors of habit, if it did not inspire appropriateness and grace.

The stately dignity of deportment, which, in former years, was the distinguishing trait of the Christian gentleman and accomplished scholar, in the pulpit, has passed away with the noble race of men who exemplified its effects. The polish of private life from which it sprung, has, to say the least, obviously declined. But the change leaves something wanting to the heart. The authoritative mien of the old divine, had, perhaps, something in it of the arrogance of office. But in taking away the conventional elevation of manner, we have removed with it, a portion of genuine dignity. The reformation which has

popularized" the pulpit, has lowered its tone, and limited its influence on the preacher as well as on the people.

as to execute, when needful, the indispensable act of turning the leaves. But nothing can warrant the unseemly, uncouth, and awkward habit of supporting the body with each hand resting on one side of the cushion, or that of reposing with one elbow embedded in it. The former trick leads, unavoidably, to the consummation of ungainly appearance, by rendering it necessary that, when the speaker becomes earnest, he should manifest it by wriggling his vertebral column, instead of obeying nature's law, and using his hand in gesture.