them; and many of them said that I had made the whole very clear to them, when, God knows, I had not even attempted it."[359] [358] "Letters to his Son," vol. ii. p. 329. [359] "Letters," ii. 121. The gift of oratory is most certainly heaven-born, but its development demands a vast amount of purely mundane labour. The best speeches have ever been those in the preparation of which the most time and trouble have been expended. Burke's masterpieces were essays, laboriously constructed in the study; Sheridan's elaborate impromptus were carefully devised beforehand, and, if successful, occasionally repeated.[360] Chatham, whose wonderful dominion over the House does not perhaps appear in his speeches, chose his words with the greatest care, and confided to a friend that in order to improve his vocabulary he had read "Bailey's Dictionary" twice through from beginning to end. [360] "The hon. gentleman has applied to his imagination for his facts, and to his memory for his wit," is a remark he made in different forms on more than one occasion. See Harford's "Wilberforce," p. 167; Brougham's "Sketches," vol. iii. p. 294, etc. The fervid eloquence of such men as Plunket, Macaulay, Brougham, and Canning--"the last of the rhetoricians"--was the fruit of many an hour of laborious thought and study. Canning especially never spared himself. He would draw up for use in the House a paper, on which were written the heads of the subjects which he intended to touch upon. These heads were numbered, and the numbers sometimes extended to four or five hundred. Lord North, when he lost the thread of his discourse, would look through his notes with the utmost nonchalance, seeking the cue which was to lead him to further flights of eloquence. "It is not on this side of the paper, Mr. Speaker," he would declaim, still speaking in his oratorical tone; "neither is it on the other side!" Then, perhaps, he would suddenly come upon the desired note, and continue his unbroken oration without a sign of further hesitation.[361] Bright used to provide himself with small slips of paper, inscribed with his bon-mots, which he drew from his pocket as occasion required. He excelled, nevertheless, in scathing repartee. Once, during his absence through illness, a noble lord stated publicly that Bright had been afflicted by Providence with a disease of the brain as a punishment for his misuse of his talents. "It may be so," said Bright, on his return to the House, "but in any case it will be some consolation to the friends and family of the noble lord to know that the disease is one which even Providence could not inflict upon him."[362] He did not always get the best of it, however, and when he ridiculed Lord John Manners for the youthful couplet-- "Let wealth and commerce, laws and learning die, But leave us still our old nobility!"