hearts than by their understandings.  The way to the heart is through the senses; please their eyes and their ears and the work is half done.  I have frequently known a man’s fortune decided for ever by his first address.  If it is pleasing, people are hurried involuntarily into a persuasion that he has a merit, which possibly he has not; as, on the other hand, if it is ungraceful, they are immediately prejudiced against him, and unwilling to allow him the merit which it may be he has.  Nor is this sentiment so unjust and unreasonable as at first it may seem; for if a man has parts, he must know of what infinite consequence it is to him to have a graceful manner of speaking, and a genteel and pleasing address; he will cultivate and improve them to the utmost.  Your figure is a good one; you have no natural defect in the organs of speech; your address may be engaging, and your manner of speaking graceful, if you will; so that if you are not so, neither I nor the world can ascribe it to anything but your want of parts.  What is the constant and just observation as to all actors upon the stage?  Is it not, that those who have the best sense, always speak the best, though they may happen not to have the best voices?  They will speak plainly, distinctly, and with the proper emphasis, be their voices ever so bad.  Had Roscius spoken quick, thick, and ungracefully, I will answer for it, that Cicero would not have thought him worth the oration which he made in his favor.  Words were given us to communicate our ideas by:  and there must be something inconceivably absurd in uttering them in such a manner as that either people cannot understand them, or will not desire to understand them.  I tell you, truly and sincerely, that I shall judge of your parts by your speaking gracefully or ungracefully.  If you have parts, you will never be at rest till you have brought yourself to a habit of speaking most gracefully; for I aver, that it is in your power —­You will desire Mr. Harte, that you may read aloud to him every day; and that he will interrupt and correct you every time that you read too fast, do not observe the proper stops, or lay a wrong emphasis.  You will take care to open your teeth when you speak; to articulate every word distinctly; and to beg of Mr. Harte, Mr. Eliot, or whomsoever you speak to, to remind and stop you, if you ever fall into the rapid and unintelligible mutter.  You will even read aloud to yourself, and time your utterance to your own ear; and read at first much slower than you need to do, in order to correct yourself of that shameful trick of speaking faster than you ought.  In short, if you think right, you will make it your business; your study, and your pleasure to speak well.  Therefore, what I have said in this, and in my last, is more than sufficient, if you have sense; and ten times more would not be sufficient, if you have not; so here I rest it.