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[331] and, as it were, elaborate disorder. It would be applauded on the stare as an excellent “make-up.” His dress, it is true, is never unclean, and seldom unsound; but he usually presents the appearance of a man who has been traveling, night and day, for six weeks in a stage-coach, stopping long enough for an occasional hasty ablution, and a hurried throwing on of clean linen. It must be admitted, however, that when he is going to deliver a set lecture to a city audience his apparel does bear marks of an attempted adjustment. But it is the attempt of a man who does something to which he is. unaccustomed, and the result is sometimes more surprising than the neglect. On the present occasion, the lecturer, as he stands there waiting for the noise to subside, has the air of a farmer, not in his Sunday clothes, but in that intermediate rig, once his Sunday suit, in which he attends ‘the meeting of the trustees,’ announced last Sunday at church, and which he dons to attend court when a cause is coming on that he is interested in. A most respectable man; but the tie of his neckerchief was executed in a fit of abstraction, without the aid of a looking-glass; perhaps in the dark, when he dressed himself this morning before day-light—to adopt his own emphasis.

Silence is restored, and the lecture begins. The voice of the speaker is more like a woman's than a man's, high-pitched, small, soft, but heard with ease in the remotest part of the Tabernacle. His first words are apologetic; they are uttered in a deprecatory, slightly-beseeching tone; and their substance is, “You mustn't, my friends, expect fine words from a rough, busy man like me; yet such observations as I have been able hastily to note down, I will now submit, though wishing an abler man stood at this moment in my shoes.” He proceeds to read his discourse in a plain, utterly unambitious, somewhat too rapid manner, pushing on through any moderate degree of applause without waiting. If there is a man in the world who is more un-oratorical than any other—and of course there is such a man—and if that man be not Horace Greeley, I know not where he is to be found. A plain man reading plain sense to plain men; a practical man stating quietly, to practical men the results of his thought and observation, stating what he entirely believes, what he wants the world to believe, what he knows will not be generally believed in his time, what he is quite sure will one day

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