simplicity of diction it is full of movement and energy. As an elocutionary exercise the speech may be read with especial attention to the long combined inflections as bringing out the implied meanings. The people had been under the spell of Brutus's speech, and at first Antony speaks as if he meant what he says in calling Brutus honourable; but as the speech goes on, and the speaker becomes more sure of his audience, the epithet becomes more sarcastic, and is spoken in such a way as to imply its opposite, until the speaker is able to give full play to his passion in declamation. Mark also the increasing emphasis on "was " before "ambitious," and the breadth of implied meaning in mutiny, an idea that the speaker suggests while at the same time he disclaims it (it is a case of "Don't put him under the pump"); also in stones, because if even the stones are moved, how much more should the warm hearts of the men of Rome be affected!

"Friends, Romans, countrymen ! lend me your ears:

I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones :
So let it be with Cæsar! The noble Brutus
Hath told you, Cæsar was ambitious-

If it were so, it was a grievous fault;

And grievously hath Cæsar answered it!

Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest-
For Brutus is an honourable man,

So are they all, all honourable men

Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral.

He was my friend, faithful and just to me,

But Brutus says he was ambitious;

And Brutus is an honourable man.

He hath brought many captives home to Rome,

Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:

Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept.
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff—
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;

And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did see, that, on the Lupercal,

I thrice presented him a kingly crown,

Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ;

And sure he is an honourable man.

I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke ;
But here I am to speak what I do know.

You all did love him once-not without cause !
What cause withholds you, then, to mourn for him?

O Judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason? Bear with me:
My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar;
And I must pause till it come back to me !—
But yesterday the word of Cæsar might
Have stood against the world—now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence!
O masters! if I were disposed to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,

I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,
Who, you all know, are honourable men!

I will not do them wrong; I rather choose

To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you,
Than I will wrong such honourable men!
But here's a parchment with the seal of Cæsar—
I found it in his closet-'tis his will!

Let but the Commons hear this testament-
Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,—
And they would go and kiss dead Cæsar's wounds,
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood;

Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,

And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy,

Unto their issue !

Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it ;
It is not meet you know how Cæsar loved you;
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men ;
And being men, hearing the will of Cæsar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad;
'Tis good, you know not that you are his heirs,
For if you should, oh, what would come of it!
Will you be patient, will you stay awhile?

I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it;
I fear I wrong the honourable men,

Whose daggers have stabbed Cæsar; I do fear it.
You will compel me then to read the will?
Then make a ring about the corse of Cæsar
And let me show you him that made the will.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle : I remember,
The first time ever Cæsar put it on,

'Twas on a summer's evening in his tent,

That day he overcame the Nervii

Look! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through !—
See what a rent the envious Casca made.

Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd!
And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæsar follow'd it!
As rushing out of doors, to be resolved

If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no:

For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel; Judge, O ye gods! how dearly Cæsar loved him :

This was the most unkindest cut of all;

For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab,

Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms,

Quite vanquish'd him; then burst his mighty heart; And, in his mantle muffling up his face,

Even at the base of Pompey's statua,

Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell.
Oh! what a fall was there, my countrymen !
Then I and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.

Oh, now you weep, and I perceive you feel

The dint of pity; these are gracious drops.
Kind souls; what! weep you when you but behold
Our Cæsar's vesture wounded? look you here!
Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.

Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up
To such a sudden flood of mutiny.

They that have done this deed are wise and honourable.
What private griefs they have, alas! I know not,
That made them do it; they are wise and honourable;
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.

I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts;

I am no orator, as Brutus is;

But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,

That love my friend: and that they know full well
That gave me public leave to speak of him;
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action nor utt'rance, nor the power of speech
To stir men's blood; I only speak right on;

I tell you that which you yourselves do know;

Show you sweet Cæsar's wounds, poor poor dumb mouths,
And bid them speak for me; but were I Brutus
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue
In every wound of Cæsar that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny."

Shakespeare.

CLIMAX.

In Climax is combined the most forcible application of the rules relating to modulation, inflection, emphasis, and expression.

In oratory there is a definite object to be gained—a certain impression to be produced. The gradations of an argument lead to an irresistible conclusion-the details of a picture grow into a striking story or a grand effect—and as

the speaker approaches that conclusion, the breadth, passion, force of manner, should correspond with the expansion and importance of his meaning: there should be a louder, more emphatic tone of voice, a more earnest expression of countenance and more vigorous gesture. A level and monotonous manner does not suit with the progression there must always be in the expression of meaning. The interest shown by the speaker should rise with the increasing interest of his speech. It is a common fault to allow the voice to decrease in emphasis and energy as the close of a sentence or a series is reached, when the words are really more important in themselves, and also because of the meaning accumulated by the previous words.

In speeches intended to move the feelings of an audience by passionate declamation, it is a great mistake for the speaker to exhaust himself at the outset, thus rendering that which ought to be the climax of his speech its least effective portion. Besides, a great display of passion, with its accompaniment of extreme gesture, is highly ridiculous unless the sympathies of the audience are proportionately excited.

A skilful artist, in painting a picture, arranges his subordinate effects in such a manner as to bring into greater prominence, and exhibit in a more intense light, the central point of interest. The reciter should remember this, and not give each petty detail in violent monotony. He must mix his colours, throw in light and shade, and arrange each subordinate part in such a way as to bring into bolder relief those passages which contain the climax of his meaning, the central group of his picture-the heart of his