haustless legacy of sin, never ate an apple with such avidity and relish as that which brought to them and theirs the knowledge of good and evil. Had they been half as willing to obey as they were eager to disobey, they might have dwelt longer in that garden of the world.

And so, while I have tolerable faith in the purity and honesty of youthful intentions, it is necessary to distrust that wholesale criticism directed against the system of education, which extends its parental arms around the bodies and minds of five hundred students. Numerous have been the arguments, verbal and written, which have laboriously aimed to prove, that there are faults in the system under which we live. But, however apparent may be these faults, reason plainly teaches us, that neither in this world nor the next, will it be deemed an excuse for the neglect of either mind or soul, that we were obliged to seek their development amid some imperfections. The harder the struggle, the greater is the victory; and the greater the victory, the nobler is the victor's crown. While, then, it is a simple prerogative of humanity to notice blemishes in whatever comes under our physical or mental vision, it is none the less our duty to make an honest and faithful use of whatever rays of light come to us beneath the roof-tree of dear old Yale, even though there be occasional spots upon the surface of that sun which warms and lights our intellectual life.

I cannot, then, hold our College responsible for all the defects that our better judgments tell us are exhibited in our education; and the question must come back to ourselves whether or no we are doing the best our circumstances will allow? A dreamy remembrance, almost obscured by scores of later things, comes up to me from days long ago, and whispers, in a timid manner, as though I were now too far along in boyhood to turn a listening ear to fairy tales, of a curiously shaped and curiously wrought mirror, which the fairies would sometimes present to men, and thus enable them to see their characters as they must appear to others. I would that they might loan us such a mirror now, but, in its absence, let us employ reason, as best we can, and see if we can discern any serious defects in our student character.

There are times, when the laugh and the song have died away in these dear old rooms, where many generations before us have laughed and sung, have thought and labored; there are times, I say, when we sit alone, listening to our own heart-throbs, and gazing dreamily into the lazily burning fire, when we almost catch a glimpse of our innerselves. From such self-communion I always rise, feeling that I am living a hollow, heartless life, and that nothing is so much needed by myself, and possibly by us all, as a hearty sincerity. There is no

higher virtue in social character, no surer element of success in intellectual life, and no grace more admirable in moral development, than sincerity. A single sincere word, that seems to be the outreaching of one heart for another, like the tendrils of a vine seeking something to rest upon, does infinitely more to encourage, support, and sustain, than volumes of meaningless flattery, which have their origin in the conventionalities of life, and end in mere verbiage. To be sincere, then, in the improvement of the body, mind, heart and soul, is only a reasonable discharge of the obligations we inherit in accepting existence as a gift from our Father's hand; and, until we are ourselves sincere in each and all of these respects, let us withdraw all the indictments which have been brought against the institution and system in which and under which we live.

We have passed through the age of asceticism, and have reached a period when a Christian can be "muscular," without sacrificing any articles of belief, or neglecting any ordinances of the church. A glad day it is, too, when the soul and the body are recognized as coming from the same Master's hand, and all honor to Charles Kingsley, who has dared to say by precept and example, that it is better to expand the jewel and its casket together, than to enlarge the one and contract the other. But, with all our admiration of physical culture, and with all our belief in the maxim, " Sana mens in sano corpore," how few of us are really sincere in caring for our bodies. Now and then some courageous and conscientious man goes regularly to the Gymnasium, and pulls with Spartan-like heroism at weights and sand-bags, or seeks to support himself in mid air by certain mysterious rings and ropes. But it seems vastly easier to deposit one's self in an easy chair, and sit and dream the hours away, than to brave either the winter's cold or the summer's heat, with an eye to the future welfare of our tenements of clay. By thus neglceting our bodies, we wrong ourselves, and dishonor Him whose handiwork we are; for, if the jewel within have any value at all, surely the casket that contains it is worth preserving.

We are, it may be, more sincere in caring for the mind, because that is constantly brought before us, and our very existence here is made to depend upon the daily record of our seeming intellectual proficiencies. But, be the standard as high as it may, and be the laws as strict as they will, it is always easy enough to ignore the one and evade the other, and, with all charity, I must suppose that the number of sincere students here to-day is but a very small portion of the number recorded in our last Catalogue. It is passing strange, that here, where every

influence and association seems fitted to lead us onward in those paths which we have professedly chosen, there should be so little sincerity in study. They who really study hard, with rare and honorable exceptions, would hardly like to have it known, and to get careless enough to attend recitations, habitually, without any previous preparation, is considered by many as the ultimatum of College discipline. A little experience in the world will doubtless convince us, that idleness and unfaithfulness will not form the most abiding foundation possible for future success, and, as years and cares cluster around us, we shall, better than now, realize the worth of sincerity in our mental culture.

And once more, brethren, ere the curtain rises and we exchange hurried farewells, let us ask ourselves, are we sincere in our friendships? A large part of the charm of College life, while we are here, and, as older brethren tell us, of the pleasure its remembrances awaken, results from College friendships. And surely there must be strength in chains, to which every day for years has given an additional link, and, if the human heart be anything more than a poetic fiction, sincerity in College friendships is and can be a fact. Self-interest, or unreasonable prejudices, may have turned the heads and hearts of some, who used to be almost daily visitants in our rooms, or almost constant companions in our walks; but, let us not say in our bitterness, "All men are liars," but rather cling the closer to those whom time has proved to be both true and constant. There are some influences here that tend to make us uncharitable, sometimes, perhaps, unreasonable; and it is against such influences that we must always struggle, lest the canker of distrust shall gradually overspread our hearts.

To make an exclusive speciality of either physical training, hard study, or social culture, is not my idea of College life. They are by no means each inconsistent with the rest, but are all indispensable to vigorous manhood. Some seem to think that good scholarship and good fellowship, are things antagonistic, and that it is impossible to recognize the claims of both; as though the mind and heart are so arranged, that whatever care and culture is given to one, is necessarily taken from the other. But surely, he who is willing to admit that his Master gave him a mind and bade him improve it, is none the less qualified for a friend; nor is he who studiously ignores all claims of the intellect, any the better adapted to understand the meaning of that sacred word which marks the union of kindred minds.

Be faithful in all things, is a maxim which ought to govern us in College and in the world, and he who comes the nearest to its practi

cal obedience, is the worthiest of praise. And if, according to the beautiful creed of Hawthorne's gentle "Hilda," God has set us here in an evil world, and has given us only white robes, which he has bidden us wear back to him as white as when we put them on, let us, by all means, be sincere in our dealings with ourselves, in our relations to others, and in obeying the precepts of God, so that we shall always be found to have been honest men, faithful friends, and loving children.

J. L. S.

Extempore Speaking.

THE ART OF EXTEMPORE SPEAKING; HINTS FOR THE PULPIT, THE SENATE AND THE BAR. By M. BAUTAIN, Vicar-General and Professor at the Sorbonne, etc., etc. THE professional men of our country whose duties in "the political assembly, the sanctuary of justice, the academy and the Church," require them to use that most potent of all influences, human speech, and especially American Students, engaged in a preparatory discipline for public stations, are under a peculiar obligation to the gentleman who has introduced to the American public the above work of the eloquent Bautain. To the former class, whose habits of speech have become fixed by long practice, this treatise can be of comparatively little value. But to young men who have not been made roundshouldered by the custom of speaking to an audience from a manuscript, to young men whose powers can be easily moulded by patient effort, such a work is invaluable. The fact that it is not as well appreciated among us, or perhaps I should say, so well known as it should be, will be my excuse for attempting a brief discussion of its merits.

The great peculiarity of the work is its unity of design. The author sits down in his study, not to force into sickly existence a new theory; not to impose upon the world a didactic treatise laying down absolute rules; but to draw from a personal experience of years in the University and the Church, a few "recommendations," as he calls them, which a person can adapt to his own necessities and requirements.

Extemporaneous speaking, from its very nature, cannot be regulated by definite rules. There are of course certain general principles and laws of development which apply equally to all, while in minute particulars the mental constitution and habits of each individual will determine the method of culture he should pursue. Men are wanting not so much in a desire to improve their powers, as in a knowledge of the best means to accomplish this end. They need an acquaintance with a few general principles, a few landmarks by which they may direct their progress. These universal laws readily adapt themselves to the intellectual nature of each individual, and while affording a systematic basis of improvement they are continually suggesting, as he proceeds, the special requirements of his own constitution. Such a treatise as that before us is valuable not only as illustrating in the experience of a single individual the operation of those general principles, but as giving a clear exposition of their nature and universal application. There is a perfectly logical connection between all its parts; in their essential importance they hang one upon another like so many links in a chain. The author begins with the very rudiments of the art, and with a perspicuity, so characteristic of French writers, leads you on from step to step, until the whole plan appears in its beautiful harmony with the processes of nature. The special purpose of the work is to develop the method by which a person can best prepare himself for an extemporaneous address; but preliminary to this the first part is devoted to a thorough and exceedingly interesting discussion of the qualities natural and acquired, necessary to a successful extemporaneous speaker. The old Roman rhetorician maintained that orators are made. It is possible, however, that Quintilian did not mean this as an absolute assertion, but intended it as a general truth expressed in concise axiomatic form so agreeable to the ancient philosophers. Be this as it may, our author looking at his own experience, shows by a most discriminating analysis that for any one to become a good extemporaneous speaker he must have certain natural aptitudes, certain native qualities of disposition to which his acquired powers are merely supplementary. Seven natural qualities are enumerated as of essential importance: "a lively sensibility, a penetrating intelligence, a sound reason or good sense, a prompt imagination, a firm and decisive will, a natural necessity of expansion or of communicating to others ideas and feelings, and finally, a certain instinct which urges a man to speak as a bird to sing." It may be doubted whether all these qualities are natural, but no one will question the fact of their necessity and value.