great statesmen were trained and developed. In his travels abroad he met and was asso ciated with some of the foremost orators and rhetoricians of the world, and in the theatres which he frequented in Paris, Edinburgh and other European cities, he learned from famous actors how the voice could be mod ulated, the articulations made distinct, and the emphasis properly placed. I do not know that Preston, like Demosthenes, ever went to the seashore and spoke with pebbles in his mouth; I do not know that, like Legare, he ever entered a boat and sailed out upon the ocean, there to practice elocu tion amid the waves and rocks of the sea, but I do know that he availed himself of every opportunity to develop his oratorical powers, and add to his grace as a speaker. And now I have come to the highest at tribute of his eloquence, the crowning qual ity of his statesmanship, — his deep earnest ness — the beauty of his life and the splendor of his character. To succeed as an orator a man must feel what he says, and conviction must precede feeling. The man who desires to become a great orator and statesman must reach out to something above and be yond self. Mr. Preston himself lays down this rule in the concluding parts of some comments he made upon the oratorical efforts of one of his young friends. Said he : " His decided and almost infantile passion for speaking shows an innate tendency; and in stinct is but the consciousness of organiza tion. William's consciousness involves the instinct, and this implies the faculty. . . . These things I say because they are true, and that you may check and subordinate Wil liam's propensities into a just observance of more solid and important things than speak ing. Even in the pulpit I have seen men seduced from the appropriate purpose of their high mission by the fascinating attrac tions of successful oratory, forgetting the end in the means. It was true of Bossuet; it was true of Whitfield; and I have seen it true at a camp-meeting."
Mr. Preston was eminently right. The highest success in oratory can only be at tained when self is relegated to the back ground. True eloquence comes from the heart. When I was a college student, a favorite subject for debate was: "Which is the better field for a display of eloquence, the pulpit or the bar?" I have often thought that the consecrated Christian min ister ought to present, or rather represent, the highest type of eloquence. He has a a theme that reaches beyond time out into eternity. He is dealing with immortality. And then surely he, of all men, should pos sess this last most essential and most impor tant quality to which I have referred. — the earnestness and sincerity which are backed up by a noble character and a forgetfulness of self. Mr. Preston was a grand character. He had about him that magnanimity of soul which always attracts. He was the idol of his family, he was loved by a host of friends, and he was popular with the masses. Even now that he is dead, his name is re called with pleasure, his memory is revered, and, though with the recollection of him the tear starts, yet there comes along with it a smile and a cheerful face, for his very name is suggestive of sparkling conversation, bright wit, delightful anecdote, charming incident, charity of soul, magnanimity of heart, purity of character and nobility of life. And besides all this, Mr. Preston pos sessed another requisite to the highest success in the department of eloquence and states manship. He had behind him a sustaining power. I have read somewhere that when Lord Erskine, the great English advocate, was making his first speech at the bar, he manifested at the beginning a good deal of trepidation and embarrassment, but that after a while he overcame it and delivered a splendid address. In explaining to some one how he overcame his embarrassment, he said that while he was speaking, he happen ed to think of his little children, and he felt
