Next to humor and pathos, the most important requisite to a successful career on the platform, is the dramatic element which enables a man to “suit the action to the word,” and by the subtle power of the actor’s art, bring us to worship or despise, at his will, the character he portrays, or the principle he advocates. We hang at highest tension on the words of such a man, when the same words spoken in a commonplace way, would send us to sleep in our seats. How often have we seen the beauty of the Lord’s Prayer marred by some guttural-voiced exhorter who delivered it as coldly as he would have read a report of the mule market, or the price of pumpkins! and yet it is said that the great Booth with his incomparable rendition of this sacred prayer could lead an audience into the very presence and smile of God. Since time began, the dramatic in art and literature has received the homage of all people and all nations. This love of the dramatic sits enthroned alike in the heart of the savage and the man of letters, the highwayman and the clergyman, the ignoramus and the intellectual Titan. This strange attribute in the make-up of humanity is at once a dangerous and a glorious element. Too often it has nerved the murderer’s hand and steeled the heart of cruelty, but civilization is the master which is taming it. In the long gone ages of heartless kings and fawning subjects, when fierce gladiators met in the death struggle, and the cruel ruler and his multitudes cheered the ending of a human life, they were but satiating their unholy love of the dramatic. Before such a picture, the great common heart of to-day turns sick with horror, but there is another picture dimmed also with many centuries, which makes the blood leap with different emotions, and which the future will guard with jealous pride. It is the dramatic picture of a little band of Christians in the center of a vast arena, awaiting the approach of the wild beasts which are to tear their limbs apart, and quietly kneeling in their last prayer. The dramatic effect of that prayer sent a thrill through all the ages, and nerved the hearts of the millions who were to follow the martyrs, as no common incident could have done. We worship tragedy, and find satisfaction only in thrilling climaxes, and out of the multitudes of the passing years, history hands us the names of only a few who have paid the price of deathless fame. The tragic death of Julius Cæsar magnified his mighty deeds a hundred fold, and the dramatic but inglorious climax of St. Helena sent the great Napoleon thundering into history. [Illustration: GUY CARLTON LEE, PH.D., LL.D.