No. 9
KniTOiu vis
leuness of his subject matter and style, J
whether the woik lie accomplished willi
rapidity or slowness.
In writing s in everything else the fa-
:iiiy wnii wnicn we worn is none uc
tends upon the nature and constitution of
he one who docs it. One person may he
i constituted thnt he can do a piece
-f work in half the. rime and with half
the labor that another man can, and yet be
able to do his work just as well; but be
cause the one can do certain work with
much greater ease and readiness titan the
oilier is no surety Inui be will accomplish
more at the end of a longer period of
tune. Byron composed rapidly and Whit
her writes his verses with perfect case.
Tennyson, on the other hand, wrote "Come
into the (inrden, Maud," over llfty times
lieforc it pleased him. and the author of
"Lai la ltookh " considered fifty lines in a
tveek pood work. Pcott evidently com
MKed with great facility, while Lord Ma
cauhn's histories and essavs are the result
f slow painstaking work.
Lt him not, then, who would hemmed
professional writer, be discouraged from
the undertaking because he is not able to
compose rapidly, for if he have other
nullifications that seem to tit him for the
profession, this ouc will be no great bin-Jurai.-
to his success.
The successful litterateur must be a man
of intensive general information, and of
wide range of abilities, of sound logical
opinions upon all matters of common in
terest, and above nil, he must be a man of
print ical common sense. J Jut because
In" lield of labor is so extensive, so com
prchensive, is no reason why ho should
dabble indiscriminately in all classes of
literature, as history, poetry, fiction, jour
iialism. etc., etc. Few authors will sue
cied who attempt this. There is such a
tiling as a literary speciality, and few an- j
thoi shave such range of abilities as to sue
't''d in more than one branch, one pari,
"I the great field of literature, but ct to
succeed in one branch he must luie a
lirge acquaintance with all the tithe I
It is because tin- field of literature is so
vast in extent, and because the nature ol
the knowledge and skill possessed by him
who would liecoine a wilier f reptile
mu-t be o compit-hfiiMvc and veiaiile.
that literature stand-at the head of the el
egant ails, niul becomes as a pioiessjuji
moatdiluViiUlo follow.
The practice is a common one in oui
college literary societies to write out
speeches and orations and then to commit
them to memory. This time-honored prac
lice has some ery commendable features
Itgiu-s piai-tici-In writing, and culture to
the voice, and opportunity to practice
those gestures and graceful movements
of the both which are among the i-seu.
lials of pood oratory. It also jrives op
porttmin to 11100 persons who have not
been accustomed to appear much public
audiences to express their thoughts, ami
wear oil" the bashfulncss and confusion
which e en onee'els in his tlrst attempts
at public speaking. But though this prac
tice of writing speeches and then of learn
ing them his some cry commendable
features, and is quite proper at times and
in the light pl.iee, ct when too freqt.i-nt
ly made ui- of. ns it is lv many members
of our litcrurv societies, it may become in
a certain win injurious. It becomes in
jurioiu, because it destroys in a measnie
one's confidence in his ability to speak
extemporaneously, and because it does
not givo practice in public speaking, in
genuine oratory. When one is speaking
something which has been learned, he
does not so often think of the thoughts
and sentiments which his words are gi.
ing expression to, as of the foim and
sound of the sentences which he has pre
viously written and learned. In this wa
we do not learn to talk and reason with
an audience as we would with a person in
conversation, but merely learn to become
proficient dcclaimers. This kind of speak-In"-will
never make a speaker or or.itoi
ol n man. but will o far towards making
i t htm a sort of .nit-inatn. a sort ol
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