Drawing up of outlines or skeletons.

It should be added, as a practical rule for all cases, whether it be an exercise that is written for practice' sake, or a composition on some real occasion, that an outline should be first drawn out, a skeleton as it is sometimes called, — of the substance of what is to be said. The more briefly this is done, so that it does but exhibit clearly the several heads of the composition, the better; because it is important that the whole of it be placed before the eye and the mind in a small compass, and be taken in as it were at a glance and it should be written therefore not in sentences, but like a table of contents. Such an outline should not be allowed to fetter the writer, if, in the course of the actual composition, he find any reason for deviating from his original plan. It should serve merely as a track to mark out a path for him, not as a groove to confine him. But the practice of drawing out such a skeleton will give a coherence to the Composition, a due proportion of its several parts, and a clear and easy arrangement of them; such as can rarely be attained if one begins by completing one portion before thinking of the rest. And it will also be found a most useful exercise for a beginner, to practise if possible under the eye of a judicious lecturerthe drawing out of a great number of such skeletons, more than he subsequently fills up; and likewise to practise the analyzing in the same way, the Compositions of another, whether read or heard.

If the system which I have been recommending be pursued, with the addition of sedulous care in correctionencouragement from the teacher- and inculcation of such general rules as each occasion calls for; then, and not otherwise, Exercises in Composition will be of the most important and lasting advantage; not only in respect of the object

immediately proposed, but in producing clearness of thought, and in giving play to all the faculties. And if this branch of education be thus conducted, then, and not otherwise, the greater part of the present treatise will, it is hoped, be found not much less adapted to the use of those who are writing for practice' sake, than of those engaged in meeting the occasions of real life.

- that

Debating-Socie

ties.

S. 6. One kind of exercise there is, of Debating-Societies, which ought not to be passed unnoticed, as different opinions prevail respecting its utility. It is certainly free from the objections which lie against the ordinary mode of theme-writing; since the subjects discussed are usually such as the speakers do feel a real interest in. On the other hand, it differs from the exercise afforded by the practice of public-speaking on the real occasions of life, inasmuch as that which is the proper object of true eloquence, to carry one's point,—to convince or persuade, rather than to display ability, — is more likely to be lost sight of, when the main object avowedly is, to learn to speak well, and to show how well one can speak; not, to establish a certain conclusion, or effect the adoption of a certain measure.

Reasons for and against Debating-Societies.

It is urged in favor of this kind of exercise, that since in every art a beginner must expect his first essays to be comparatively unsuccessful, a man who has not had this kind of private practice beforehand must learn speaking in the course of actual business, and consequently at the expense of sundry failures in matters of real importance. Compared with those who have learned in Debating-Societies, he will be like a soldier entering the field of battle without previous drills and

reviews, and beginning to use his weapons and to practise his evolutions for the first time in actual combat.

And there is undoubtedly much weight in this reason. But on the other hand, it is urged that there are dangers to be apprehended from the very early practice of extemporary speaking, even on occasions of real business; dangers which are of course enhanced, where it is not real business that the speaker is occupied with.

When young men's faculties are in an immature state, and their knowledge scanty, crude, and imperfectly arranged, if they are prematurely hurried into a habit of fluent elocution, they are likely to retain through life a careless facility of pouring forth ill-digested thoughts in well-turned phrases, and an aversion to cautious reflection. For when a man has acquired that habit of ready extemporaneous speaking which consists in thinking extempore, both his indolence and selfconfidence will indispose him for the toil of carefully preparing his matter, and of forming for himself, by practice in writing, a precise and truly energetic style; and he will have been qualifying himself only for the "Lion's part"* in the interlude of Pyramus and Thisbe. On the other hand, a want of readiness of expression, in a man of well-disciplined mind, who has attentively studied his subject, is a fault much more curable by practice, even late in life, than the opposite.

In reference to this subject, I cannot refrain from citing some valuable remarks from an article in the " Edinburgh Review;" +

* "SNUG.

Have you the Lion's part written? Pray you, if it

be, give it me; for I am slow of study.

11

"QUINCE. - You may do it extempore; for it is nothing but roaring.”

Midsummer Night's Dream.

† April, 1839.

66

>. A politician must often talk and act before he has thought and read. He may be very ill informed respecting a question; all his notions about it may be vague and inaccurate; but speak he must; and if he is a man of talents, of tact, and of intrepidity, he soon finds that, even under such circumstances, it is possible to speak successfully. He finds that there is a great difference between the effect of written words, which are perused and reperused in the stillness of the closet, and the effect of spoken words which, set off by the graces of utterance and gesture, vibrate for a single moment on the ear. He finds that he may blunder without much chance of being detected, that he may reason sophistically, and escape unrefuted. He finds that, even on knotty questions of trade and legislation, he can, without reading ten pages, or thinking ten minutes, draw forth loud plaudits, and sit down with the credit of having made an excellent speech. Lysias, says Plutarch, wrote a defence for a man who was to be tried before one of the Athenian tribunals. Long before the defendant had learned the speech by heart, he became so much dissatisfied with it that he went in great distress to the author. 'I was delighted with your speech the first time I read it; but I liked it less the second time, and still less the third time; and now it seems to me to be no defence at all.' My good friend,' said Lysias, 'you quite forget that the judges are to hear it only once.' The case is the same in the English parliament. It would be as idle in an orator to waste deep meditation and long research on his speeches, as it would be in the manager of a theatre to adorn all the crowd of courtiers and ladies who cross over the stage in a procession with real pearls and diamonds. It is not by accuracy or profundity that men become the masters of great assemblies. And why be at the charge of pro

viding logic of the best quality, when a very inferior article will be equally acceptable? Why go as deep into a question as Burke, only in order to be, like Burke, coughed down, or left speaking to green benches and red boxes? This has long appeared to us to be the most serious of the evils which are to be set off against the many blessings of popular government. It is a fine and true saying of Bacon, that reading makes a full man, talking a ready man, and writing an exact man. The tendency of institutions like those of England is to encourage readiness in public men, at the expense both of fulness and of exactness. The keenest and most vigorous minds of every generation, minds often admirably fitted for the investigation of truth, are habitually employed in producing arguments such as no man of sense would ever put into a treatise intended for publication, arguments which are just good enough to be used once, when aided by fluent delivery and pointed language. The habit of discussing questions in this way necessarily reacts on the intellects of our ablest men; particularly of those who are introduced into parliament at a very early age, before their minds have expanded to full maturity. The talent for debate is developed in such men to a degree which, to the multitude, seems as marvellous as the performances of an Italian improvvisatore. But they are fortunate indeed if they retain unimpaired the faculties which are required for close reasoning or for enlarged speculation. Indeed we should sooner expect a great original work on political science, such a work, for example, as the 'Wealth of Nations,' from an apothecary in a country town, or from a minister in the Hebrides, than from a statesman who, ever since he was one-and-twenty, had been a distinguished debater in the House of Commons."