to destroy the state governments. It can derive no advantage from such an event, but, on the contrary, would lose an indispensable support, a necessary aid in executing the laws and conveying the influence of government to the doors of the people. The Union is dependent on the will of the state governments for its chief magistrate and for its Senate. The blow aimed at the members must give a fatal wound to the head, and the destruction of the states must be at once political suicide. Can the national government be guilty of this madness? What inducements, what temptations, can they have? Will they attach new honors to their station; will they increase the national strength; will they multiply the national resources; will they make themselves more respectable in the view of foreign nations or of their fellow citizens by robbing the states of their constitutional privileges? But imagine for a moment that a political frenzy should seize the government. Suppose they should make the attempt. Certainly it would be forever impracticable. This has been sufficiently demonstrated by reason and experience. It has been proved that the members of republics have been, and ever will be, stronger than the head. Wherever the popular attachments are, there will rest the political superiority. Sir, can it be supposed that the state governments will become the oppressors of the people? Will they forget their affections? Will they combine to destroy the liberties and happiness of their fellow citizens, for the sole purpose of involving themselves in ruin? God forbid! The idea is shocking! It outrages every feeling of humanity and every dictate of common sense!

HENRY CLAY

Henry Clay (1777-1852), though endowed by nature with gifts superior to those of most great orators, was no exception to the rule that the orator is made. Born in Virginia of humble par

entage, his literary training in the schools was no better than that of other poor boys of his neighborhood, but his desire. for mental improvement was so great that the time his fellows devoted to play he spent in reading and study, and thus early learned the invaluable lesson of self-dependence and self-reliance in gaining knowledge.

Though obliged to give up school at the age of fourteen, it was his good

fortune, through the influence of friends, to secure the position of clerk and amanuensis to Chancellor Wythe, one of the ablest jurists of Virginia, himself an orator of no mean ability. This scholarly patron soon discovered that young Clay possessed unusual talents and he resolved to develop and encourage them. Accordingly he gave direction to Clay's studies, pointed out certain lines of thought to be developed,

and, as a wise counselor, stimulated in every way his enthusiastic protégé. The careful recording of the chancellor's able decisions afforded the ardent student, besides a knowledge of law, a mental discipline and valuable rhetorical training. Four years this schooling continued, and Clay advanced with remarkable facility through this his only course of training.

Upon the advice of his patron he chose law as his profession and entered the office of Attorney-General Brooke at Richmond, Virginia. It was at this period that he began the discipline that afterwards yielded so richly. Appreciating the fact that to speak well one must have opportunity to speak, he organized a debating society among the leading young men of aristocratic Richmond. Here first he began to display his remarkable gifts of oratory, and soon achieved such leadership as to be called "the peerless star of the society." Nor did he relinquish his efforts to perfect his powers of debate. After he had been admitted to the bar and had removed to Lexington, Kentucky, he there became a member of a debating club, in whose meetings he took the liveliest interest. Like many others who afterwards attained eminence as orators, Clay lacked confidence at first and did not take part in the discussions for several meetings. But one evening when a debate was about to be closed and the vote taken, he was overheard to remark that the subject had not, in his judgment, been fully discussed. Whereupon his friends urged him to speak, and at length they prevailed.

Clay arose and in his confusion exclaimed, "Gentlemen of the jury." The assembly was amused and his confusion increased. Again he exclaimed, "Gentlemen of the jury," still more earnestly. The confusion was greater than ever. Stung by the ridicule of his audience and conscious that after all the address was not inappropriate, he summoned his energies, mastered his fears, and the third time exclaimed with

dignity and severity, "Gentlemen of the jury," and proceeded with his speech. He gained confidence from the start and warmed with his subject, and before he had finished he had won the respect and admiration of all present, and established his reputation as a man of determination and power. This kind of exercise was continued from week to week for a number of years, and, as might have been expected, it gave him eminence as an advocate.

It would be interesting to know what estimate he himself places upon oratorical training. He declares that his success is not due to "sudden illumination while speaking," but to the fact that he began at an early age the daily practice of reading aloud, and of speaking upon the contents of some scientific or historical book. "These off-hand efforts," he tells us, "were sometimes made in a cornfield, at others in a forest, and not infrequently in some distant barn with the horse and ox for my auditors. It is to that early practice of the great art of arts that I am indebted for the primary and leading impulses that stimulated me forward and shaped and molded my subsequent entire destiny." And again in an address to the students of Ballston Law School, he said, "Think not that any great excellence of advocacy can be attained without great labor." After recounting how persistently he had practiced in youth and early manhood for strength of voice and easy flow of language, he continues: "Often I made the hills resound in my walks, and many a herd of gentle grazing cows have been the astonished audience of my outpourings. Improve then, young gentlemen, the superior advantages you here enjoy. Let not a day pass without exercising your powers of speech."

In outward appearance Clay was a striking figure, six feet one inch in height, well proportioned, majestic in bearing, with ruddy complexion, abundant light hair, blue eyes, a large

mouth, and full lips ready to speak. He was not handsome, but his face wore a pleasing, winning expression, and intelligence beamed from every part of his countenance.

But his greatest physical gift was his marvelous voice, by nature capable, but by long and skillful practice come to be voluminous, wide of compass, flexible, rich in quality, and tender in short, a majestic bass. Some of his contemporaries declare it to be the finest musical instrument they ever heard. Its inexpressible charm captivated even hist enemies, though it did not always convince them. Randolph rose from a sick bed and was carried on his couch into the Senate when Clay was announced to speak, that he "might hear that voice once more."

People must believe in Clay's honesty and up

Henry Clay illustrates the truth that character is essential to the highest eloquence. Emerson once said, "There is no eloquence without a man behind it." Oratory is a moral force. The rhetorician may charm with his eloquence, may entertain the intellect and please the imagination, but it requires moral force to reach the will. a man before they will follow him. rightness of purpose were unquestioned. During his whole career no species of corruption stained his name. His kindness, his sympathy, his benevolence, and his uniform courtesy made him a favorite. Charity was his religion. Ardent, fearless, national in spirit, possessed of a grand will, he infused these qualities into his followers, to whom his word was a command.

In style Clay had every weapon of oratory at his disposal argument, persuasion, wit, repartee, invective, illustration; he could instruct, convince, arouse, and subdue. With no technical skill in logic and rhetoric, he yet became a great and powerful debater because he was a close observer and grasped intuitively the foundation principles of those sciences.