shall dare attempt to explain what that vitality is? We may only say that electricity in the animal frame is the force by which all nervous action is exerted-the means by which LIFE is manifested and sustained. It will be apparent, then, that life and health must consist in the harmonious relation between the electrical or vital forces, and the material structure and fluids of the organism. These elements must be relatively proportioned. The atmosphere we breathe contains a certain amount of oxygen, combined with a relative amount of nitrogen and hydrogen. We cannot add one particle to either of these elements without disorganizing the atmosphere and creating a new element or a new compound element. If we add a particle more of oxygen to the oxygen of the air, that ingredient is no longer oxygen, but aquafortis. Thus full life is but another term for perfect health. So, on the other hand, if there be any circumstances or conditions which induce or bring about inharmonious relations between the nervous forces, (which are equivalent to the oxygen and the air,) and the other elements which make up the general perfected organism, there must necessarily follow decay and death. The severity of disease, then, as a matter of course, will correspond with the derangements, or the inharmonious relations of the several constituents of vitality, or life. with each other. Suppose 100 degrees of temperature to represent life, or full health. Now suppose there was some exciting cause to depress the measure of this normal standard. If the depression amounted to ten per cent., there would be a ten per cent. loss of health; i. e., health would be depreciated ten degrees below par, or normal life. Were the depression equal to 25 or 50 per cent., health would be 25 or 50 per cent. below par life. In other words, a man might be said to be quarter dead. or half dead, as these reductions from vitality would relatively indicate. Were the standard of life reduced below fifty per cent. it would scarcely be possible for the vis medicatrix nature to be maintained. Life would then die out, for the recuperative efforts of nature would be too much weakened to arrest the further, more rapid, dissolution of the organism, and the sundering of the chemical changes of its original elements. There is also such a thing as life in excess. Such plethora is virtually disease-the same thing, in reality, as converting oxygen into aquafortis. There would then be an excess of the vital, or electric or nervous power, incompatible with the harmonious agglomeration of the other elements of the organism; hence antagonism and disruption of the whole. Fever and inflammation, then, are life in excess, and cold and chills. life depressed-and either is a departure from the standard of normal health, and induce the phenomena or symptoms we call disease, whether locally or generally manifested, or nosologically considered. In this view of life it might be rationally asserted, with Hippocrates, that there is really but one disease the phenomena or symptoms manifested being merely modifications, or different forms, of a departure from the standard of health, according as the electric action of the economy is exalted or depressed. Those who are at all familiar with the peculiarities of the nervous system will not fail to perceive the reasonableness of this proposition; for they will comprehend that, according to the latest experiments, that electrical action is identical, or nearly so, with the hypothetical "nervous influence." In considering the magneto-electrical relations of the organism, a most remarkable point, to which every reflecting mind must turn, is the duality of the body; that is, its division into symmetrical halves, and the wonderful halves, and the wonderful harmony existing between the cercbro-spinal or voluntary portion of the nervous system, and the sympathetic or involuntary series of nervous arrangements. We find a series of nervous centres (which might properly be termed magneto-electric batteries) in each of the two great nervous divisions, connected together by a number of nerves, (or, so to speak, conducting or telegraphic wires,) and sending forth branches which minutely subdivide and interlace in every, even the smallest, point of the body. The cerebro-spinal set of nerves preside over motion and special sensation; the sympathetic or ganglionic over general sensation; the intuitive and formative functions linked together in one most intimate yet harmonious whole, forming continuous magneto-electric currents. There are the afferent and efferent nervous systems, mutually operating somewhat like the ordinary telegraph-the one conveying sensations (or messages) from the outward surfaces and the various organs to the battery in the brain, and the other system conveying them from that source to all other parts of the economy. Thus, if a man should cut his toe, the fact is instantly telegraphed to the brain, which as promptly takes cognizance of the circumstance, and sends back a sympathetic response to the injury received. In this way, a regular communication is kept up between all the organs and parts of the body, so that no injury can be done to any portion of the system without the rest having notice of the same, and suffering relatively with the injured part. Scanning the organism through the medium of the nervous system, we are thus enabled to comprehend somewhat of the Thus, electrical forces and polar conditions of the organism. we know that man is a galvanic pile-that the brain and other nervous centres are the batteries where the vital force or nervous influence is generated and accumulated. The next consideration is, by what power is such nervous or electric forces generated. We have shown the elements essential to life, and those conditions calculated to destroy it. Suppose we compare the organism of man to an ordinary steam-engine. There is all the machinery in perfect orderthe cogs, the wheels, the piston, the boiler, and other paraphernalia. What next is required? The wood or fuel for the furnace, the fire to light the wood before steam can be generated. Having steam, we have now the motive power, to propel the machinery, but it will not move until some other power or agent is employed to direct the force of the steam to those points of the complicated machinery which will start their action and keep them all working in harmonious relationship with each other. This machinery will continue to move so long as the fuel is supplied to the furnace and the proper amount of steam is generated. The moment, however, we allow the fire to die out, of course, the engine will cease working. Again, if too much steam be generated, and care is not observed to regulate its force, it will cause an explosion of the entire apparatus into fragments. The clements of life are relatively similar. Everything is there except the vital or moving, or progressing, or developing principle. Fire or heat, or something else, must be placed in the furnace before the machinery of the organism can begin to work. In other words, although there is a latent force in the ingredients necessary to constitute life, some other power or principle must be directed to call such latent force into generative or working action. We may see this idea beautifully exemplified in a grain of corn or wheat. So long as the inher ent vitality of the grain is sustained, it will germinate, providing conditions for germination exist. A grain may be preserved in its fructifying principle for many thousand years. Grains of wheat exhumed from the Egyptian tombs, after being inclosed in solid masonry for two thousand years, have germinated and yielded their natural product under the ordinary conditions favorable to the growth of this plant. To deal with this subject agreeably to the latest develop ments of medical and general science, those who will take the trouble to examine closely the law of Nature, will find that "vital force," "vitality," "vis vite," terms frequently employed, readily admit of two significations. Let us see. Life, in its highest sense, is an emanation (in comprehensible to ourselves, because beyond our finite thoughts,) from the Omnipotent Creator of the Universe, pervading every organized body in varied but definite proportions, and preserving the harmony of the natural laws to which we are subjected. This controlling power, this emanation from the Deity, keeps all in order, from the simple developing cell (the commencing point of all organization) to the body as a whole; it regulates the movements of all that delicate, beautifully-adapted, and complicated machinery upon the exact mutual co-operation of each and every part of which organic existence depends. From man, the highest and most perfect of God's works through the animal kingdom down to the zoophyte class, linking animal and vegetable life through the higher classes of vegetable organization down to the lowest orders, where the doubt arises whether we are still dealing with life, or whether we have entered the mineral kingdom-everywhere throughout Nature, we see depicted higher or lower grades of intrinsic "vital" power, which, with undeviating accuracy, organize matter and preserve organization by certain currents of force or arrangements given to the otherwise inorganic atoms. Thus we find that life, in the different classes of organized existence, has its fixed or determined period. Man, cæteris paribus, lives from 70 to 100 years; rarely beyond; the horse, between 20 and 30 years; some insects, from birth to death, but 24 hours. The oak has vis vitæ, for several hundred years, but at length must decay and die; many of our favorite garden flowers enjoy but a few months' existence. As it prevails throughout Nature, so does it obtain with man. A minute germ-a cell-by this intrinsic "vis vitae," is developed into the foetus, the foetus into the infant, the infant into the youth, the youth into mature age; then comes the descent into the vital scale until the decay of old age is reached. The machinery is then worn out, and must give place to others. The duration of life is fixed by irrevocable decrees; unchangeable except by a special permission of Providence. ART. VI-1. Orators of the American Revolution. By E. L. MAGOON. New York 1848. 2. The Principles of Eloquence, by the ABBE MAURY, with an Introduction, etc. By A. POTTER, D.D. New York. 1855. 3. The Beauties of Daniel Webster, Selected and Arranged. By JAMES REES. New York. 1839. One is, that MANY are the definitions given of eloquence. it is the "expression of strong emotion so as to produce like emotion in others." It is, indeed, difficult to define that strangely mystic influence which pervades, commands, and controls an impressible soul. We may say, however, that eloquence is an art which is kindred to poetry. Both are the language of exalted passion; and that which characterizes the one constitutes much of the charm of the other. While poetry garlands her beauteous form with verse, and moves to the sweet cadence and measure of numbers, eloquence assumes nobler and more majestic proportions, and commands a freer and more sublime expression. Hers is an energy still more comprehensive; a power or force wider and deeper; an influence untrammelled; and whilst she displays a beauty less adorned than the poetic art, it is neither less expansive nor less expressive. Eloquence and poetry, therefore, differ, if they differ at all, chiefly in their apparel. The costume or dress changes with the mode or style of the sentiment pronounced, or the thought embodied. If this be so, then in every great oration we should look for a poem, not necessarily embodied in verse, nor pronounced in melodious numbers, but awaiting only the rhythm and harmonious flow that shall make it sparkle and glow with its wonted inspiration. Take up any great oration of ancient or modern times, and you shall find much the same fervor, a like exalted passion. equal pictured thought, a similar felicitous and harmonious diction, together with the sparkle of fancy and the glow of imagination found in the true poem. We do not mean to affirm that there is no difference between the two arts in question; that the art of the orator and that of the poet are the same; but that they have much in common, and that the characteristics of the one may, for the most part, be discovered in the other. We are aware that the form and structure of poetry differ quite materially from the mould into which prose is thrown; or poetry and prose would be undistinguishable. Still the general truth remains intact, namely, that great orations and great poems embody and manifest much the same characteristics. The two realms touch each other; and eloquence is the pictured speech of poetry and prose. An orator, therefore, in the most exalted sense of that term, is, perforce, a poet also. He is unconsciously this, if you please, yet, nevertheless, he wears the poet's crown. He may not have written a single line nor uttered a sentiment with such a view or desire; melodious verse or rhythmic numbers may be strangers to his ears; yet he unconsciously paints pictures which flash from the walls of imagination, and which hang in the galleries of art as glorious ideals of grace and beauty. Perhaps the principal difference and distinction as between |