Certainly, the gracious Author of all beings and Maker of the world, has distinguished us from the animals in no respect more than by the gift of speech.  They surpass us in bulk, in strength, in the supporting of toil, in speed, and stand less in need of outside help.  Guided by nature only, they learn sooner to walk, to seek for their food, and to swim over rivers.  They have on their bodies sufficient covering to guard them against cold; all of them have their natural weapons of defense; their food lies, in a manner, on all sides of them; and we, indigent beings! to what anxieties are we put in securing these things?  But God, a beneficent parent, gave us reason for our portion, a gift which makes us partakers of a life of immortality.  But this reason would be of little use to us, and we would be greatly perplexed to make it known, unless we could express by words our thoughts.  This is what animals lack, more than thought and understanding, of which it can not be said they are entirely destitute.  For to make themselves secure and commodious lodges, to interweave their nests with such art, to rear their young with such care, to teach them to shift for themselves when grown up, to hoard provisions for the winter, to produce such inimitable works as wax and honey, are instances perhaps of a glimmering of reason; but because destitute of speech, all the extraordinary things they do can not distinguish them from the brute part of creation.  Let us consider dumb persons:  how does the heavenly soul, which takes form in their bodies, operate in them?  We perceive, indeed, that its help is but weak, and its action but languid.

THE VALUE OF THE GIFT OF SPEECH

If, then, the beneficent Creator of the world has not imparted to us a greater blessing than the gift of speech, what can we esteem more deserving of our labor and improvement, and what object is more worthy of our ambition than that of raising ourselves above other men by the same means by which they raise themselves above beasts, so much the more as no labor is attended with a more abundant harvest of glory?  To be convinced of this we need only consider by what degrees eloquence has been brought to the perfection in which we now see it, and how far it might still be perfected.  For, not to mention the advantage and pleasure a good man reaps from defending his friends, governing the Senate by his counsels, seeing himself the oracle of the people, and master of armies, what can be more noble than by the faculty of speaking and thinking, which is common to all men, to erect for himself such a standard of praise and glory as to seem to the minds of men not so much to discourse and speak, but, like Pericles, to make his words thunder and lightning.

THE ART OF SPEAKING