aking, than any other class of men
in England,--or I might almost say elsewhere. The fact, for it is a
fact, that some of the greatest orators whom the world has known have
been found in this class, does not in any degree affect the truth of
my proposition. The best grapes in the world are perhaps grown in
England, though England is not a land of grapes. And for the same
reason. The value of the thing depends upon its rarity, and its value
instigates the efforts for excellence. The power of vocal expression
which seems naturally to belong to an American is to an ordinary
Englishman very marvellous; but in America the talking man is but
little esteemed. "Very wonderful power of delivery,--that of Mr.
So-and-So," says the Englishman, speaking of an American.

"Guess we don't think much of that kind of thing here," says the
Yankee. "There's a deal too much of that coin in circulation."

English country gentlemen are not to be classed among that section of
mankind which speaks easily in public, but Jews, I think, may be so
classed. The men who speak thus easily and with natural fluency, are
also they who learn languages easily. They are men who observe rather
than think, who remember rather than create, who may not have great
mental powers, but are ever ready with what they have, whose best
word is at their command at a moment, and is then serviceable though
perhaps incapable of more enduring service.

At any rate, as regarded oratory in Baslehurst the dark little man
with the bright new hat from London was very much stronger than
his opponent,--so much stronger that poor Butler Cornbury began
to sicken of elections and to wish himself comfortably at home at
Cornbury Grange. He knew that he was talking himself down while
the Israelitish clothier was talking himself up. "It don't matter,"
Honyman said to him comfortably. "It's only done for the show of the
thing and to fill up the day. If Gladstone were here he wouldn't talk
a vote out of them one way or the other;--nor yet the devil himself."
This consoled Butler Cornbury, but nevertheless he longed that the
day might be over.

And Tappitt spoke too more than once,--as did also Luke Rowan, in
spite of various noisy interruptions in which he was told that he was
not an elector, and in spite also of an early greeting with a dead
cat. Tappitt, in advocating the claims of Mr. Hart to be returned to
Parliament as member for Baslehurst, was clever enough to introduce
the sub