We require, in fact, a calmer atmosphere. The desire to interest and hold the attention of our audience is so natural, that it is very apt to escape one that this may be done _on terms not consistent_ with our real object—the interesting the intellect; and this fault is perhaps, of all, the worst; because it is never a greater failure than when it appears to be successful. All other faults in lecturing, if serious, in one respect tell their own tale in the thinning audience. The learned author of the "Philosophy of Rhetoric" has observed that "A discourse directed to the understanding will not admit of an address to the passions, which, as it never fails to disturb the operation of the intellectual faculty, must be regarded by every intelligent hearer as foreign indeed, if not insidious." He had before said, "that in such a discourse you may borrow metaphor or comparison to illustrate it, but not the bolder figures, prosopopœia and the like, which are intended not to elucidate the subject, but to _create admiration_." "It is obvious," he continues, "that either of the foregoing, far from being subservient to the main design (to address the intellect), serves only to distract the attention from it[67]." This judicious writer, however, in the first sentence makes a distinction, which requires, perhaps, to be received with some caution. There is no discourse that is solely intellectual; the driest mathematical proposition interests our _feelings_. The pleasure of truth, what is that? Not merely intellectual, certainly. It is a pleasure derived _from_ the intellect, no doubt; but it is a _feeling_ entirely distinct. So, in addresses to the passions, if they are successful, the presiding influence of the intellect is very obvious; this away, a discourse soon merges into bombast or fustian, a something which neither impresses the feelings nor the passions as desired. The true desideratum, as it appears to us, is accuracy of adjustment, not separation. In intellectual operations, the feelings are to be subservient to the accomplishment of the objects of the intellect. In discourses, where the passions or feelings are most appealed to, or most prominent, the intellect must still really guide, though it may appear to follow.