But does any one suppose himself to be quite impregnable?  Does he think that not possibly a man may come to him who shall persuade him out of his most settled determination?—­for example, good sedate citizen as he is, to make a fanatic of him? or, if he is penurious, to squander money for some purpose he now least thinks of? or, if he is a prudent, industrious person, to forsake his work, and give days and weeks to a new interest?  No, he defies any one, every one.  Ah! he is thinking of resistance, and of a different turn from his own.  But what if one should come of the same turn of mind as his own, and who sees much farther on his own way than he?  A man who has tastes like mine, but in greater power, will rule me any day, and make me love my ruler.

Thus it is not powers of speech that we primarily consider under this word Eloquence, but the power that, being present, gives them their perfection, and, being absent, leaves them a merely superficial value.  Eloquence is the appropriate organ of the highest personal energy.  Personal ascendency may exist with or without adequate talent for its expression.  It is as surely felt as a mountain or a planet; but when it is weaponed with a power of speech, it seems first to become truly human, works actively in all directions, and supplies the imagination with fine materials.

This circumstance enters into every consideration of the power of orators, and is the key to all their effects.  In the assembly, you shall find the orator and the audience in perpetual balance, and the predominance of either is indicated by the choice of topic.  If the talents for speaking exist, but not the strong personality, then there are good speakers who perfectly receive and express the will of the audience, and the commonest populace is flattered by hearing its low mind returned to it with every ornament which happy talent can add.  But if there be personality in the orator, the face of things changes.  The audience is thrown into the attitude of pupil, follows like a child its preceptor, and hears what he has to say.  It is as if, amidst the king’s council at Madrid, Ximenes urged that an advantage might be gained of France, and Mendoza that Flanders might be kept down, and Columbus, being introduced, was interrogated whether his geographical knowledge could aid the cabinet, and he can say nothing to one party or to the other, but he can show how all Europe can be diminished and reduced under the king by annexing to Spain a continent as large as six or seven Europes.

This balance between the orator and the audience is expressed in what is called the pertinence of the speaker.  There is always a rivalry between the orator and the occasion, between the demands of the hour and the prepossession of the individual.  The emergency which has convened the meeting is usually of more importance than anything the debaters have in their minds, and therefore becomes imperative to them.  But if one of them have anything of commanding