jurist above alluded to,) it has been well said, "declamation roars while passion sleeps," of speaking justly characterised by this line, Mr. Peyton's was the precise reverse. With him thought became passionate before the expression became glowing, as the wave swells before it crests itself with foam. Mr. Peyton's language was forcible, pure and idiomatic. It served well as the vehicle of his thoughts, but contributed nothing to them. There is a real and legitimate advantage belonging to the masterly use of words, of which many great speakers know how to avail themselves. Mr. Peyton attempted nothing of the sort. His diction was thoroughly English, with a marked preference for the Anglo Saxon branch of the language, and his sentences came out in the most natural order with unusual clearness and vigor, but not unfrequently with a plainness that bordered upon homeliness. His style, however, was always that of speaking, as distinguished from mere conversation--a distinction which some of our modern speakers forgot, when in order to appear at their ease, they treat, with no little disregard, not only the rules of rhetoric, but the rules of grammar as well, and use words and phrases which are (to take a word from the vocabulary which we are condemning) nothing better than slang. On the contrary, there was in Mr. Peyton's style the fruit of early studies and high-bred associations, a classical tinge, extremely pleasant to the scholar, though not perhaps appreciable by those for whom he generally spoke. It must not be supposed from what has been said of his excellent method, that he resembled in this respect some of our able, but greatly tedious lawyers, who take up, in regular succession, every possible point in the case, however minute, and worry us by officiously offering help where none is needed. So far from it, he showed his consummate skill as well in what he omitted as in what he handled, and, as a general thing, his speeches were shorter in duration, and yet fuller of matter than those of his opponent. His use of figurative language was easy and natural, and not stinted; but his figures were always introduced as illustrations and not as arguments. It is not unusual to meet with a speaker who is unable to enounce distinctly the general principles he wishes to use, throw out an illustration to enable himself to pick out the principle from it, or at least to give his hearers a chance to do it for themselves; not so with Mr. Peyton. He held up the torch of illustration, not to throw a light forward to guide himself in his own investigations, but to enable those following the more readily to tread the road along with him. He had a very noticeable fondness for recurring to the primary fundamental principles of morals, and doubtless he was restrained, by his practical judiciousness, from indulging this disposition to the full. One of his favorite books was Lord Bacon's essays, and under other circumstances he