the great business of life, the making of speeches. In this system of education the development of the voice naturally held a large place, and the phonascus, or voice-driller, was an indispensable accessory, not only of every school of oratory, but of many formed orators. Of the methods of the phonascus we know little, but we find hints in some of the classical writers that, like certain of his professional brethren in more recent days, he was not disinclined to magnify his office. Seneca, in one of his letters, warns his friend against living, vocally speaking, in subjection to his phonascus, and implies that he might as well keep another artist to superintend his walking. In our own day the phonascus still survives in public life, though perhaps more as a luxury than an acknowledged necessity. A celebrated novelist, dramatic author, and orator, who passed over to the great majority many years ago, used always to put himself under the guidance of a vocal mentor before delivering a speech. Every tone, every pose, and every gesture was carefully prepared and industriously practiced, under the direction of Mr. Frederick Webster, brother of the celebrated comedian, Benjamin Webster. That the elaborate training of the ancients was eminently successful is shown by the powers of endurance which it is clear they must have possessed. They habitually spoke for five or six hours, and even longer, and, in order to appreciate their staying power, it must be remembered that they spoke in the open air, amid all the tumult of the forum, which was capable of holding eighty thousand people, and with an amount and vigor of action of which the gesticulations of an Italian preacher are but a pale reflex. Long-windedness was at one time cultivated as a fine art by Roman orators, when they had to plead before a judge whom they supposed to be in favor of the other side. These prototypes of our modern obstructionists were aptly termed moratores, or delayers, because they postponed as far as possible the passing of the sentence. The abuse finally reached such a height that a law had to be passed limiting the length of pleadings in public cases to the running out of one clepsydra. It is impossible to say exactly what period of time this was equivalent to, as the water-clocks of the Romans were of different sizes, and the rapidity of flow must have varied under different circumstances; from twenty minutes to half an hour may, however, be taken as roughly representing the average length of a speech under this strict system of "closure." On the whole, I think we use the voice in public even more than the ancients, and there is, therefore, all the more reason for its being properly trained. Good speaking is nowadays important, not only from the artistic but from the business point of view; and, even for "practical men," it can not be a waste of time to acquire so valuable a faculty. These arguments may perhaps seem superfluous, as the proposition they
