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PRACTICAL ELOCUTION: 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PRINCIPLES 
 
 READING AND PUBLIC SPEAKING. 
 
 A SELECTION OF THE BEST PIECES PROM ANCIENT AND MODERN 
 AUTHORS, ACCOMPANIED BY EXPLANATORY NOTES. 
 
 THE WHOLE ADAPTED TO THE PURPOSES OF IMPROVEMENT IN 
 
 READING AND ORATORY. 
 
 BY SAMUEL NILES SWEET. 
 
 FOURTH AND STEREOTYPE EDITION, 
 
 •Delivery bears absolute sway in Oratory.'— Cie&r&. 
 
 ALBANY: 
 PUBLISHED BY ERASTUS H. PEASE, 
 
 AND SOLD BY THE PRINCIPAL BOOKSELLERS THROUGHOUT TfflB 
 UNITED STATES. 
 
 1846. . 
 

 Entered according to Aet of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred 
 and forty-six, by Samuel N. Sweet, in the clerk's office of the uistrict court of 
 the northern district of New- York. 
 
 
 Joel Munsell, Printer, 
 Albany. N. Y. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 No branch of education can be more successfully and advantageously 
 applied to the great and practical purposes of life, than Elocution. It is in 
 the most frequent use of any faculty with which our nature is endowed. 
 Whenever we exercise the organs of speech, whether in conversation, 
 reading, or public speaking, wc employ some of our powers of elocution. 
 Throughout all the diversities of rank and sex, including kings and beg- 
 gars, every individual begins to practise it, the second, if not the first year 
 of his existence. It is but another word for the faculty of speech — a faculty 
 which elevates man above the brute creation, and which should not be 
 permitted to 
 
 " rust out unused," 
 
 and unimproved. That the reading or speaking voice, as well as the sing- 
 ing voice, is susceptible of almost an unlimited degree of cultivation, is a 
 truth, with a conviction of which, men have been deeply impressed, in all 
 ages of the world. Especially is this true of the citizens of Greece and 
 Rome. They paid great attention to the art of eloquence , as it was called 
 in ancient times; now, elocution; which is, " the rose by another name;" 
 and we learn from histdry, that their labors were rewarded with very bene- 
 ficial resdlts. 
 
 Passing over in silence, other great and immortal names, let us direct our 
 attention for a moment, to Demosthenes, Cicero, and Pericles. Nature 
 did not very Jgberally provide Demosthenes with power of speech. He, 
 however, possessed genius in an eminent degree. And yet, without in- 
 dustnj, mVname would have been lost in oblivion. By undying perse- 
 verance in the pursuit of oratory, and by unremitting attention to the prin- 
 ciples upon which good speaking is founded ; he acquired an eloquence 
 which " astonished all Greece." We may say of him without any poetical 
 license, he spoke, 
 
 " Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar stood ruled." 
 
 Cicero, by close application, reading, and declaiming, rendered his voice so 
 melodious, powerful, and thrilling, that it hushed the Roman senate into 
 silence, and made " great Caesar" himself tremble on his seat Pericles so 
 successfully cultivated the whole art of elocution, that with him, manner 
 was almost matter. An incident is related in history, which may serve to 
 give us an idea of the power of his eloquence. Thucydides, although an 
 enemy to Pericles, when asked which, was the best wrestler answered: 
 11 Whenever I have given him a fall, he affirms the contrary, in such strong 
 and forcible terms, that he persuades all the spectators that I did not throw 
 him, though they themselves saw him on the ground." Those three 
 renowned orators adopted in e*arly life, the excellent motto, that " nothing 
 is given to mortals, without indefatigable labor." Discarding the absurd 
 notion, that orators are born such, they acted upon the true principle, that 
 however much or little nature had done for them, they would rely exclu- 
 
V# % A*V~* \m »\ %\ 
 
 IT PREFACE. 
 
 sively and entirely upon their own exertions. The docility of Demostnene6| 
 Cicero, and Pericles, through life, and the care and success with which 
 they cultivated the science of speaking well, afford examples worthy of 
 universal imitation, from the president of .the United States, members of 
 congress, and of state legislatures, lawyers, clergymen, conductors of lite- 
 rary institutions, and other gentlemen of public consideration, down to the 
 humblest citizen of our republic. Those peerless orators immortalized 
 their names by "patient labor, and patient labor only." If they excelled 
 the orators of all other countries, either ancient or modern, it is because 
 they devoted time, money, and labor, to the improvement of their manner 
 of speaking. 
 
 Who does not know that inattention to a subject is tantamount to igno- 
 rance of it 1 Knowledge is not intuitive. The infant grasps alike the near 
 flame, which would burn him, and the bright orb of day which he cannot 
 reach. It is a truism, but, nevertheless, one which is too often practically 
 disregarded, that we know little or nothing, except what we learn. Why * 
 then talk so much of " nature's orators 1" Cicero says, that the " poet is 
 born, but the orator is made." Nature, doubtless, makes a great difference 
 in the capacities with which she endows her children ; but art makes a 
 still greater difference. It is an excellent letter addressed to a young man 
 engaged in the study of law, the late Hon. William Wirt, truly observes, 
 that il it is a fiat of fate, from which no genius can absolve youth, that there 
 is no excellence without great labor." 
 
 Vocal music is more pleasing than instrumental, because the human 
 voice, whether its notes are heard in song or speech, is the sweetest and 
 noblest of all instruments. It, however, differs from a musical instrument in 
 this respect, among others : it is capable of producing an infinite variety 
 of sounds. By the tones of the voice, may be expressed, not orny all the 
 operations of the mind, but every emotion implanted by the God of nature 
 in the soul of man. The best readers and speakers are not governed by 
 particular rules. They read and speak " right on." They do not stop to 
 give a rising inflection of voice, here ; a falling, there ; and a circumflex, 
 elsewhere. Dr. Goldsmith says, that " to feel our subject thoroughly, and 
 to speak without fear, are the only rules of eloquence." It is certain, that 
 in order to be eloquent, we must surrender ourselves to the spirit that stirs 
 within us, and the "mouth" must speak " from the abundance of the 
 heart." Being perfectly satisfied with nature's system of elocution, the 
 author has not presumed to lay down a series of artificial rules in the shape, 
 either of marks of inflection or rhetorical notation, in the vain hope of 
 making a better. Those extraordinary endowments of intellect, of imagi- 
 nation, and of sensibility, which are derived from nature, and without 
 which preeminence in oratory is unattainable, are possessed by few men in 
 any age or country. But all may learn to read and speak correctly and 
 impressively, by becoming familiar with the elementary sounds of our lan- 
 guage, and the other important principles of elocution, and by engaging 
 in practical elocutionary exercises. 
 
 This work contains a great variety of pieces, all of which are suitable, 
 both for reading, and for exercises in recitation. There is no good reason 
 for drawing a line of demarcation between reading and speaking. To 
 excel in either, requires a cultivated voice, and a knowledge of elocution. 
 In both, and in one as much as the other, the principles upon which this 
 science is founded, are involved. Similar exercises, therefore, if not the 
 same, are required to become either a good reader or an accomplished 
 
speaker. The introductory part of this work, comprises suggestions on 
 elocution, and specimens illustrative of its principles, and of the powers of 
 the voice, which it is believed, will be serviceable to all who wish to acquire 
 a correct and graceful style of reading and speaking the English language. 
 
 The pieces for exercises in reading and declamation, are selected indis- 
 criminately, from ancient and modern authors ; and also from foreigners, 
 and from Americans. The object has been to embody the best pieces in 
 our language, for elocutionary purposes. If a piece be well written, it is 
 not material whether its author is an ancient or a modern, a foreigner or t 
 an American. The notes with which almost every piece is accompanied, 
 contain generally brief biographical sketches of their several authors, and 
 of the circumstances under which they wrote. The notes, however, are 
 intended chiefly to explain the manner in which the several pieces should 
 be read or recited. Before leading a piece, it may not be altogether un- 
 profitable to look at the note which accompanies it. This work, being 
 designed as a reading-book for schools, academies, theological seminaries, 
 and colleges, the pieces are divided into verses. More pieces will be found 
 in it, on elocution itself, than in any other book before the public. The 
 dialogues are in a cluster. To avoid monotony, the prose and poetry are 
 intermixed. All the selections and the notes accompanying them, are cal- 
 culated to inspire the reader with the love of freedom, of virtue, and of the 
 Christian religion. For the benefit of seminaries of learning, a number of 
 dialogues are inserted. 
 
 It is gratifying to know, that elocution is beginning to secure a portion 
 of attention, corresponding, in some degree, with its importance. But still 
 it is too much neglected, not only by community generally, but even by 
 public speakers and teachers of youth. There are, as yet, few or no distinct 
 professorehips of elocution in our literary institutions. The bishop of 
 Cloyne says, " that probably half the learning of these kingdoms is lost, 
 for want of having a proper delivery taught in the schools and colleges." 
 Is not half the learning of these United States, " lost for want of having" 
 elocution properly and thoroughly taught in our " schools and colleges V 9 
 Does not religion suffer in the hands of those who, owing to their, igno- 
 rance of elocution, and their want of those feelings of love to God andlove 
 to man with which the gospel inspires all who believe and practise its pre- 
 cepts, present that solemn and surpassingly important subject to the world, 
 in a cold, lifeless, and bungling manner 1 It is, as Dr. Blair observes, 
 u a poor compliment, that one is an accurate reasoner, if he be not a per- 
 suasive speaker." Why may not the people of the United States, become 
 as much distinguished for their eloquence, as for their free and glorious 
 institutions % Is not eloquence as valuable now as it was in ancient times 1 
 Is not freedom's soil adapted to its growth 1 And would it not be " glorious 
 to excel" other nations, as well as other individuals, " in that article in 
 which men excel the brute?" 
 
 The Supreme Being has kindly allotted to us our portion of human ex- 
 istence, in a country, the constitution and laws of which, recognize in every 
 citizen, the right to form, to cherish, and to express his opinions on all 
 subjects interesting to our common welfare, — a country where the opinion 
 of a majority prevails, and where eloquence creates public opinion. Here, 
 as in the free states of antiquity, " every man's opinion should be w r ritten 
 on his forehead." Here, too, the noble science and art of elocution should 
 receive, at least attention enough to elevate the standard of public speaking, 
 particularly among our representatives and senators in congress. Then, 
 
when foreigners visit the city of Washington, as they often do, they would 
 witness something more than " the flag of the Union floating on the top 
 of the capitol;" they would hear within its walls, specimens of eloquence, 
 the power and grandeur of which, they could not fail to admire. They 
 now animadvert very severely upon the manner in which our congres- 
 sional orators are accustomed to speak. After crossing the Atlantic, they 
 visit the seat of government, in the expectation of hearing some of the 
 most eloquent speakers in the United States. In that respect, they are not 
 disappointed. And not only so, but they hear in the senate, if not in the 
 house of representatives, orators, over whom, the best speakers in England 
 or any other country, can claim no superiority. The cavillers undervalue 
 the merits of American speakers. In their books, they criticise too severely 
 those who have seats in congress, as well as other citizens of the United 
 -States. But if we would entirely escape censure, let us endeavor to avoid 
 deserving any jtotion of it. Let American speakers unite elegance of 
 language with ftjce of reasoning, so perfectly, that even the inhabitants 
 of other cdtfntfljp will be constrained to say, with regard to them, as Milton 
 did in another case : 
 
 u Their words drew audience and attention, 
 Siill as night and summer noon-tide air." 
 
 American young men are, then, called upon by considerations of national 
 honor, to become good speakers. In order to accomplish so desirable an 
 object, that honorable enthusiasm for the art of eloquence, by which the 
 great men of antiquity were characterized, should pervade their minds. 
 " The torch of genius," be it remembered, "is lighted at the altar of en- 
 thusiasm." 
 
 In view of the whole subject, it is proper to remark, in conclusion, that 
 whatever may be the perfection in which the individual possesses the 
 faculty of speech from nature, it is susceptible of acquiring much additional 
 power, smoothness and flexibility, by cultivation and practice. It is hoped 
 that this work will be conducive to the attainment of accuracy, force, and 
 beauty of expression, in reading, conversation, and public speaking. If 
 several years experience as a teacher of elocution, afford the means of judg- 
 ing, the matter which it contains will be beneficial to all who are desirous 
 of teaching or learning the sublime art. Lord Bacon took " all knowledge 
 to be his province." Mrs. Sigourney advises us to " take all goodness for 
 our province." Let us take both. To be wise and good, is the highest 
 object to which our hopes can aspire. Those in whom wisdom and good- 
 ness are combined in the greatest degree, will participate the most largely 
 in all the social pleasures of this life, and in the unspeakable joys of that 
 which commences, never to end, beyond the darkness and silence of the 
 tomb. It is the will of Him who built the heavens and the earth, that man 
 should be the instructor of his fellow man. We are commanded by Him 
 who <c spake as never man spake," to do all that in our day and generation 
 may be done, " to teach all nations," and thus to swell the triumphs of 
 knowledge. 
 
 Under these impressions, this book has been prepared for the press. 
 A nd it is offered to the people of my native country, with a confident hope, 
 that it will be found useful in advancing the interests of that branch of 
 education to which it is devoted, and which must be regarded, not merely 
 as a fine art, but as an eminently valuable accomplishment. 
 
yf*/« 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Observations on Elocution, 13 
 
 The Elementary Sounds of the English language, 17 
 
 Articulation, or examples in some of its most difficult combinations, 20 
 Specimens, accompanied by observations, illustrative of good 
 
 Reading, ... 23 
 
 On Quantity, or the prolongation of the Vocal Elements, 29 
 
 On Emphasis, 34 
 
 Irony, 39 
 
 Emphatic Pause, 41 
 
 Climax, 44 
 
 Gesture, or Rhetorical Action, 46 
 
 Remarks on the Inflections of the Voice, with examples, 50 
 
 SELECT PIECES FOR EXERCISES. 
 
 1. Elocution, . « Dr. Charming. 55 
 
 2. Elocution of Ladies, Mrs. Sigourney. 56 
 
 3. Elocution, its effects upon Health, Dr. A. Combe. 57 
 
 4. The Voice. Journal of Health. 59 
 
 6. Demosthenes, Charles Rollin. 61 
 
 7. Cicero, N. Amer. Review. 63 
 
 8. Eloquence, its true nature, D. Webster. 67 
 
 9. Eloquence of the Pulpit, Dr. Rush. 68 
 
 10. Taste for Reading, Sir J. Herschell. 69 
 
 11. A Rabbinical Tale, Dr. Franklin. 70 
 
 12. Education, Governor Seward. 72 
 
 13. Hamlet's Instruction to the Players Shakspeare. 74 
 
 14. Tell's Address to the Mountains, Knowles. 75 
 
 15. Address to the Sun, Ossian. 76 
 
 16. Rienzi's Address to the Romans, Miss Mitford. 11 
 
 17. Address to the Ocean, Byron. 79 
 
 18. Speech of King Henry V., Shakspeare. 80 
 
 19. TheGrave, James Montgomery. 82 
 
 20. Extract from a Discourse, Dr. Caldwell. 82 
 
 21. Satan's supposed Speech, Milton. 84 
 
 22. Apostrophe to Light, Milton. 85 
 
 23. Speech of Lord Chancellor Thurlow, 87 
 
 24. Defence before Agrippa, St. Paul. 88 
 
 25. Supposed Speech of John Adams, .....D.Webster. 91 
 
 26. Description of the person of Jesus Christ, Josephus. 93 
 
 27. The Blind Preacher William Wirt. 95 
 
 28. David's Lamentation over Saul and Jonathan, 97 
 
Viii CONTENTS. 
 
 29. Othello's Apology for his Marriage, Shakspeare. 
 
 30. Cato's Soliloquy, Addison. 
 
 31. Imaginary meeting of Satan, Sin and Death, Milton. 
 
 32. Adam and Eve's Morning Hymn, Milton. 
 
 33. Speech of Cassius, .Shakspeare. 
 
 34. Brutus' Oration on the Death of Csesar, Shakspeare. 
 
 35. Antony's Oration over Caesar's body,. Shakspeare. 
 
 36. The Burial of Sir John Moore, Wolfe. 
 
 37. Last Words of Robert Emmet, : . 
 
 38. Lines relating to Curran's Daughter, Thomas Moore. 
 
 39. The Temperance Reformation, a Harbinger of the Millennium, 
 
 Rev. Dr. Sprague. 
 
 40. Declaration of Independence,. Thomas Jefferson. 
 
 41. Patriotic Speech on the question of War with England, P. Henry, 
 
 42. Cardinal Wolsey's Soliloquy on Ambition, Shakspeare. 
 
 43. Cardinal Wolsey's Farewell Address to Cromwell,.. Shakspeare. 
 
 44. Speech to Joseph, Judah. 
 
 45. Announcement of the Death of a Colleague, George Mc. Duffie. 
 
 46. The right of Free Discussion, derived from God,... Gerrit Smith. 
 
 47. Address to the Moon,.. Ossian. 
 
 48. Conclusion of Daniel Webster's Speech, 
 
 49. Education, Charles Phillips. 
 
 50. The Sacking of Prague, Thomas Campbell, 
 
 51. Conclusion of Henry Clay's Speech at Lexington, Ken 
 
 52. Petition of the Wife of Almas Ali Cawn to Warren Hastings,... . 
 
 53. Speech of William Pitt, Earl of Chatham, 
 
 54. Night before and Battle of Waterloo, Byron. 
 
 55. Right of Free Discussion, D. Webster. 
 
 56. Speech of Martin Van Buren, 
 
 57. Extract from Gen. Jackson's Proclamation, 
 
 58. Woodman. Spare that Tree, Geoge P. Morris. 
 
 59. The Union, D. Webster. 
 
 60. Marco Bozzaris, F, G. Halleck. 
 
 61. Speech of Edmund Burke, 
 
 62. The Right of Instructing Representatives, Edmund Burke. 
 
 63. Hamlet's Soliloquy on Death, Shakspeare. 
 
 64. Speech of King Richard III., Shakspeare. 
 
 65. There's nothing True but Heaven, Thomas Moore. 
 
 66. Heaven, Anonymous. 
 
 67. Religion, Rev. Alva Wood. 
 
 68. God's Incomprehensibility, Dr. Chalmers. 
 
 69. Missionary Hymn, Bishop Heber. 
 
 70. Soliloquy on the Princess Thekla, Frederic Schiller. 
 
 71. Lines for the Fourth of July, Anonymous. 
 
 72. A Beautiful Gem, E. K.Hervey. 
 
 73. How Scholars are made, D. Webster. 
 
 74. Books, Dr. Channing. 
 
 75. Gilbert Motier de Lafayette, J. Q Adams. 
 
 76. Part of a Speech of Elisha Williams, 
 
 77. On Knowledge, De Witt Clinton. 
 
 78. The importance of Female Iniluenco in the Temperance Cause, 
 
 Chancellor Walworth. 169 
 
CONTENTS. IX 
 
 79. Speech of a Mingo Chief, Logan. 172 
 
 80. Lady Randolph's Soliloquy, Rev. John Home. 173 
 
 81. Byron's Farewell to his Wife, 174 
 
 82. Song of the German Soldiers after victory, . Mrs. F. D. Hemans. 176 
 
 83. Defence of Socrates before his Judges, 177 
 
 84. Part of the Burial Service, Bible. 179 
 
 85. The Dream of Clarence, Shakspeare. 181 
 
 86. Virginius and Lucius, J. S. Knowles. 183 
 
 87. Scene from Pizarro, Kotzebue. 187 
 
 88. Dialogue from the History of King Sichard III., Knickerbocker. 191 
 
 89. Scene between Captain Bertram and Jack Bowlin, Dunlap. 192 
 
 90. Alexander the Great and a Robber, Dr. Aikin. 196 
 
 91. Prince Henry and Falstaff, Shakspeare. 197 
 
 92. A Scene from William Tell,.... Knowles. 200 
 
 93. Extract from Damon and Pythias, Shiel. 205 
 
 94. Isabella, pleading before Angelo, Shakspeare. 208 
 
 95. Mutual Upbraidings of Edward and Warwick, Dr. T. Franklin. 213 
 
 96. Hamlet and Horatio, Shakspeare. 216 
 
 97. Othello and Iago, Shakspeare. 219 
 
 98. Alonzo's Soliloquy, Dr. Edward Young. 221 
 
 99. Death of Alexander Hamilton, Eliphalet Nott. 223 
 
 100. Our Federal Union, its inestimable value, President Folk. 224 
 
 101. Man, George Combe. 227 
 
 102. To Mary in Heaven, Robert Burns. 229 
 
 103. The Christian's Hope,....' .Rev. A. Sutton. 231 
 
 104. Rules for the structure of a Sentence, Alexander Walker. 232 
 
 105. Heaven's Attractions, Dr.Nevis. 233 
 
 106. Eloquent Speech against Warren Hastings, Sheridan. 236 
 
 107. Panegyric on Sheridan's Eloquence, Burke. 239 
 
 108. New Missionary Hymn, , S. F. 8?nith. 240 
 
 109. David's Confidence in God's Grace, 241 
 
 110. On the Immortality of the Soul, Cicero. 243 
 
 111. Of Elocution, Thelwal. 244 
 
 112. Divinely inspired Speakers, their Elocution, Rev. David Marks. 246 
 
 113. Patience under provocations, our interest as well as duty, 
 
 Dr. Blair. 250 
 
 114. The Daughter's Request, , Anonymous. 252 
 
 115. The Universal Prayer, ., Pope. 254 
 
 116. Reflections at Sea, Rev. Howard Malcom. 256 
 
 117. Speech to the Ladies, D. Webster. 257 
 
 118. The Snow Storm, Portland Argus. 259 
 
 119. Extract from the Charge preceding the Sentence of the Court 
 
 in the case of the three Thayers, Hon. R. H. Walworth. 261 
 
 120. Presidents of the United States, Samuel N. Sweet. 264 
 
 121. Advantages of Knowledge, S.N. Sweet. 268 
 
 122. Disadvantages of Ignorance, S. N. Sweet. 270 
 
 123. Extract from the Mount Hope Dedication Address, 
 
 Rev. P. Church. 273 
 
 124. Reflections on the death of a Friend, C. M. Thayer. 278 
 
 125. Education the Principle of all Prosperity, Rev. Robert Hall. 281 
 
 126. Character of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson. 283 
 
 127. The last hours of Washington, G. W. P.Custis. 285 
 
X CONTENTS* 
 
 128. Education essential, both in time of War and Peace, 
 
 Gen. F. Marion. 289 
 
 129. LordUllin's Daughter, Thomas Campbell 291 
 
 130. Reading- aloud, Chambers 1 Edinburgh Journal. 293 
 
 131. Thanatopsis, William C.Bryant 296 
 
 132. The Gambler's Wife, Dr. Coats. 299 
 
 133. Pitt's Reply to Walpole,.. 300 
 
 134. Conclusion of Cassius M. Clay's Speech, in 1846, at New-York, 302 
 
 135. The Hermit, Dr. Beattie. 304 
 
 136. Extract from President Jefferson's Inaugural Address, 306 
 
 137. Extract from Demosthenes' Oration on the Crown, 308 
 
 138. Extract from Cicero's Speech for Cluentius, 310 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS. 
 
 Adams, John Ctuincy, 
 
 Addison, Joseph, 
 
 Aikin. Dr. 
 
 Beattie, James, 
 
 Bible, 
 
 Blair, Hugh, 
 
 Bryant, William Cullen, 
 
 75 
 
 30 
 
 90 
 
 135 
 
 44.84 
 
 113 
 
 131 
 
 62, 107 
 
 102 
 
 17, 54, 81 
 
 20 
 
 50, 129 
 
 52 
 
 68 
 
 61 
 
 Burke, Edmund, 
 Burns, Robert, 
 Byron, George Gordon, 
 Caldwell, Charles, 
 Campbell, Thomas, 
 Cawn, Almas AH, 
 Chalmers, Thomas, 
 Chambers' Edinburgh Journal, 130 
 Channing, William Ellery, 1, 74 
 
 Church, Pharcellus, 123 
 Cicero, 110, 138 
 
 Clay, Cassius M. 134 
 
 Clay, Henrv, 51 
 
 Clinton, De" Witt, 77 
 
 Coates, Dr. 132 
 
 Combe, Andrew, 3 
 
 Combe, George, 101 
 
 Custis, G. W. P. 127 
 David, 28, 109 
 
 Demosthenes, 137 
 
 Dunlap, 89 
 
 Emmet, Robert, 37 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, 11 
 
 Franklin, Thomas, 95 
 
 Halleck, Fitz Green, 60 
 
 Hall, Robert, 125 
 
 Heber, Bishop, 69 
 
 Hemans, Mrs. Felicia D. 82 
 
 Henry, Patrick, 41 
 
 Herschell, Sir John, 10 
 
 Hervey, E. K. 72 
 
 Home ; John, 80 
 
 Jackson, Andrew, 57 
 Jefferson Thomas, 40, 126, 136 
 
 Josephus, 26 
 
 Journal of Health, 4 
 
 Knickerbacker, 88 
 Knowles, James Sheridan, 14, 86, 92 
 
 Kotzebue, 87 
 
 Logan, 79 
 
 McDuffie. George, 45 
 
 Malcom, Howard, 116 
 
 Marion,. Francis, 128 
 
 Marks, David, 112 
 
 Milton, John, 21, 22, 31, 32 
 
 Mitford, Miss Mary Russell, 16 
 
 Montgomery, James, 
 
 19 
 
 Moore, Thomas. 
 
 38,65 
 
 Morris, George P. 
 
 58 
 
 Nevis, Dr. 
 
 105 
 
 North American Beview, 
 
 7 
 
 Nott, Eliphalet, 
 
 99 
 
 Ossian, 
 
 15,47 
 
 Paul, St. 
 
 .24 
 
 Phillips, Charles, 
 
 49 
 
 Pitt, William, 
 
 53, 133 
 
 Pope, Alexander, 
 
 115 
 
 Polk, James K. 
 
 100 
 
 Portland Argus, 
 
 118 
 
 Rollin, Charles, 
 
 6 
 
 Rush, Benjamin, 
 
 9 
 
 Schiller, Frederick, 
 
 70 
 
 Seward. William H. 
 
 12 
 
 Shakspeare, Wm. 13, 18, 29, 33, 34, 
 
 35, 42, 43, 63, 64, 85, 91, 94,96,97 
 
 Sheridan, 
 
 106 
 
 Shiel, 
 
 93 
 
 Sigourney, Mrs. Lydia H. 
 
 2 
 
 Socrates, 
 
 83 
 
 Sprague, William B. 
 
 39 
 
 Smith, Gerrit, 
 
 .46 
 
 Smith, S. F. 
 
 -108 
 
 Sutton, Amos, 
 
 103 
 
 Sweet, S.N. 120, 
 
 121, 122 
 
 Thayer, Caroline M. 
 
 124 
 
 Thelwal, 
 
 111 
 
 Thurlow, Lord Chancellor; 
 
 23 
 
 Van Buren, Martin, 
 
 56 
 
 Walworth, R. H. 
 
 78, 119, 
 
 Walker, Alexander, 
 
 104 
 
 Webster, Daniel, 8, 25, 48, i 
 
 
 73, 117 
 
 Williams, Elisha, 
 
 76 
 
 Wirt, William, 
 
 27 
 
 Wolfe, 
 
 36 
 
 Wood, Alva, 
 
 67 
 
 Young, Edward, 
 
 98 
 
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE STEREOTYPE EDITION, 
 
 In putting forth this work, stereotyped, the author takes pleasure in ten- 
 dering to the public his most Cordial acknowledgments. More than twu 
 hundred gentlemen, distinguished alike for literary attainments and moral 
 Worth, among whom are, R. Hyde Walworth, chancellor of the state of 
 New- York ; Alfred Conkling, judge of the United States for the northern 
 district ; Ex-Governor William H. Seward ; George W. Eaton, D. D., and 
 Asahel C. Kendrick, A. M., professors in the Hamilton Theological and 
 Literary Institution ; Ira Mayhew, Esq. superintendent of public instruc- 
 tion for the state of Michigan ; Hon. Lysander H. Brown chairman of the 
 committee on education in the year 1845, in the legislature of the state of 
 New- York, have furnished the author with Written recommendations of 
 the " Elocution," to all of whom his thanks are due. 
 
 And he will always feel truly grateful to George A. Hollister, of Roches* 
 ter, for aiding in publishing the first edition ; to his brother, S. Rensselaer 
 Sweet, of Rome, for his unwearied and successful efforts in introducing 
 the book into schools. It was first published at Rochester, N. Y., in 1839, 
 and having within a brief period, passed through three editions, consisting 
 of 7500 copies ; and having been adopted as a text and reading book in 
 many of " the people's colleges," i. e. common schools, as well as in the 
 higher institutions of learning, the author has made an arrangement with 
 Mr. E. H. Pease, a bookseller at Albany, to stereotype the work, and to 
 supply the demand for it. To make it mGre valuable, the author has pre- 
 pared and inserted a chapter on the inflections of the voice, with examples, 
 illustrating its various modifications. Several selections contained in the 
 three former editions, are omitted, and better ones substituted. To furnish 
 an agreeable variety for exercises in schools, he has inserted a number of 
 pieces which are as suitable for singing as for elocutionary reading, par- 
 ticularly pieces 36, 65, 66, 58, 69, 71, 102, 108, 118, 132. 
 
 The author regards explanatory notes, appended to pieces, as the sine 
 qua nan, the indispensable condition of correct and elegant recitation, and 
 of good reading. They breathe into the pieces to which they relate, the 
 breath of life. In this edition they are greatly improved, historically and 
 otherwise, as well as in an elocutionary point of view. This is the first 
 and only treatise on elocution, containing such notes. The 312 pages, 
 which it contains, comprise 138 pieces, accompanied with explanatory 
 notes, a phonological exhibition of the elementary sounds of the English 
 language, illustrations of emphasis, quantity, rhetorical pauses, climax, 
 gestures, inflections, &c. ; in a word, of the principles upon which good 
 reading and speaking are founded, — all well adapted to the wants of those, 
 desirous of teaching or learning the art and science of phonology, reading, 
 and public speaking. Elocution is the soul of oratory ; and Demosthenes 
 called it the first, second and last part of that sublime art. 
 
 The approbation and patronage extended to the work by the ladies, may 
 perhaps be partly in consequence of my occasionally entwining a wreath 
 of poetry with the more solid matter. — To enable a person the more rea- 
 dily to find a piece, the names of all the writers are arranged, alphabetically. 
 
 Good books " are the precious life blood of master-spirits, treasured up on 
 purpose to a life beyond life." May the blessing of heaven attend this book. 
 
OBSERVATIONS 
 
 ON 
 
 ELOCUTION. 
 
 Elocution is the art of reading and speaking well. It de- 
 mands of a reader, that he institute an inquiry into the mean- 
 ing of an author ; and, having ascertained it, that he convey 
 it, not only correctly, but with force, beauty, variety, and effect. 
 And it requires a speaker to impress the exact lineaments of 
 nature upon his sentiments. In order to read or speak well, 
 the articulation must be correct and elegant, and the voice 
 completely under the command of the will. A good articula- 
 tion, it need not be said, is a primary beauty of elocution. It 
 is to the ear, what fine penmanship is to the eye. Without it. 
 no individual can be a correct reader or speaker. It is the 
 first step towards becoming an elocutionist. 
 
 In Austin's Chironomia, it is truly observed : u That a pub- 
 lic speaker, possessed of only a moderate voice, if he articulate 
 correctly, will be better understood, and heard with greater 
 pleasure, than one who vociferates without judgment. The 
 voice of the latter may, indeed, extend to a considerable dis- 
 tance, but the sound is dissipated in confusion ; of the former 
 voice, not the smallest vibration is wasted ; every stroke is 
 perceived at the utmost distance to which it reaches; and 
 hence, it has often the appearance of penetrating even farther 
 than one which is loud, but badly articulated. In just articu- 
 lation, the words are not to be hurried over, nor precipitated 
 syllable over syllable j nor, as it were, melted together into a 
 2 
 
14 ELOCUTION, 
 
 mass of confusion ; they should not be trailed or drawled, nor 
 permitted to slip out carelessly, so as to drop unfinished. 
 They are to be delivered out from the lips, as beautiful coins, 
 newly issued from the mint, deeply and accurately impressed, 
 perfectly finished, neatly struck by the proper organs, distinct, 
 in due succession, and of due weight." 
 
 The question arises, how shall a correct and elegant articu- 
 lation be acquired % The answer is, by obtaining a knowledge 
 of the elementary sounds of the English language. To be 
 able to call letters by their names, is insufficient, — a know- 
 ledge of their sounds in which their power consists, is essen- 
 tial to good articulation. Thdse who do not understand the 
 elements, cannot analyze words, nor can they tell when errors 
 in articulation are made. However multitudinous and gross 
 may be their errors in that important branch of elocution, 
 they are unconscious of them. 
 
 Our language, it is admitted, is imperfect. If our alphabet 
 were perfect, the names of the letters would correspond with 
 their sounds. A large portion of the letters are at variance 
 with their sounds. They have generally been divided into 
 vowels and consonants. But the classification and division 
 of Dr. James Rush, of Philadelphia, in his "Philosophy of 
 the Human Voice," is altogether better. Without regard to 
 the order in which the letters now stand, he arranges them 
 according to their sounds, under three general heads, — Tonics, 
 Sub-tonics^ and Atonies. 
 
 This classification, which appears to be more philosophical 
 than any other, is the foundation of the one adopted in this 
 work. The terms, Tonics, Sub-tonics, and Atonies, have, at 
 the suggestion of the author's brother, Stephen R. Sweet, been 
 changed to Vocals, Sub-vocals, and Aspirates, as being more 
 expressive, at least to an English ear, of the nature and power 
 of those several classes of letters respectively. Other altera- 
 tions have also been made, for which the author is indebted to 
 the same friend. 
 
 The voice, as well as the articulation, may be greatly im- 
 proved by the practice of pronouncing these elements. The 
 voice should be exercised on each element, separately, and 
 then, on their most difficult combinations. This elementary 
 exercise constitutes a kind of gymnastic training of the voice. 
 The Greeks acquired great physical strength, by engaging in 
 the Olympic games. The Roman soldiers qualified themselves 
 
ELOCUTION. 13 
 
 to handle a sword skilfully in actual battle, by using, in their 
 preparatory exercises, heavy armor. By giving the elements, 
 and reciting some of the best pieces of Shakspeare, Milton, 
 Byron, and other distinguished writers, with all possible force 
 of voice, an individual may acquire the ability to converse 
 and read in the social circle, with perfect ease and graceful- 
 ness, and to address large audiences with great power and 
 effect, and that, too, without any apparent, or much real effort 
 of the organs of speech. 
 
 The voice has been aptly and justly compared to an instru- 
 ment of music. Every person knows that if the strings of a 
 musical instrument are imperfect, either in quality or number, 
 or are not in harmony, the keys may be struck in vain by the 
 most skilful hand : no music can be produced upon them. 
 So, if the voice be defective, — if it be harsh or creaking, — in 
 a word, if it be in an uncultivated condition, the speaker, al- 
 though he may be master of his subject, will utterly fail of 
 unfolding the beauties, and displaying the striking expressions 
 of that elocution, which, like poetry, has its dwelling place in 
 nature. If, on the other hand, the strings of an instrument 
 are perfect and in harmony, and its keys are properly struck, 
 a tune will be produced. The voice, when highly cultivated, 
 swells to chords of grandeur, or is softened to cadences, which 
 would almost suspend 
 
 " An angel's harmony to listen." 
 
 Let it not be said that our language is unadapted to the 
 purposes of oratory. The English language, although imper- 
 fect, is excellent Many different fountains have contributed 
 to enlarge its stream. It flows from no particular spring. It 
 is enriched with the spoils of several other languages. It is 
 the most universal language on earth. It is in general use 
 by the inhabitants on this continent, and by multitudes abroad. 
 It rolls its swelling flood into the residences of uncounted 
 millions. Its wealth is drawn from foreign mines ; but it is 
 none the less valuable on that account. It is our own native 
 language. We shall be likely to use it, at every period of our 
 lives. It furnishes rich and abundant materials for expressing 
 every conception of the mind, and every emotion of the heart. 
 If, then, those who use it, do not attain renown as orators, — if, 
 in the words of Shakspeare, u we are underlings" the fault is 
 not in our language, "but in ourselves." 
 
16 ELOCUTION. 
 
 
 " To command the applause of listening senates," requires, 
 it must be acknowledged, a combination of natural and ac- 
 quired abilities which very few possess. It is a matter of re- 
 joicing, that there are some such orators in the United States, — 
 orators, who have the power of instructing and delighting 
 their audiences, and to whom, the poet's lines apply in all their 
 force and beauty : 
 
 " Like fabled gods, their mighty war 
 Shook realms and nations in its jar ; 
 Beneath each banner proud to stand, 
 Looked up, the noblest of the land." 
 
 But the voices of our distinguished orators and statesmen, 
 will, ere long, cease to be heard in the councils of the nation. 
 When their career is terminated, who shall succeed them? 
 The question is submitted to the decision of American young 
 men. Shall we permit railroad, bank, and land speculations, 
 to occupy our whole time ? Is money the only thing worthy 
 of the attention of mortal and immortal man % Perish the 
 thought ! Our cry is, — give us knowledge, — valuable know- 
 ledge. We want, too, that kind of knowledge, which, while 
 it increases our own happiness, enables us to be useful to 
 others. 
 
 Elocution is a powerful engine of operation upon public 
 opinion. It is the mirror of the mind of man. It is, moreover, 
 an emendation of morals. A taste for it, prompts an individual 
 to occupy his leisure moments in imparting sound and useful 
 knowledge to the people ; and in that manner, he aids in 
 elevating the standard of morais. 
 
 Elocution is also essential to the cause of liberty. When 
 Cicero's eloquence shook the forum, Rome was recognized as 
 the w mistress of the world." In vain, then, did Cataline lift 
 up his traitorous arm against her. But when Cicero was 
 murdered, u the eternal city," jostled over the precipice of fac- 
 tion, and her sun went down in blood. The eloquence of 
 Demosthenes animated the Greeks, to stretch out the mighty 
 arm of freedom, against the usurpations of Philip. When De- 
 mosthenes was put to death, the fetters of tyranny were fast- 
 ened upon the citizens. If, then, we would perpetuate the 
 existence of our country's freedom, let us put forth our ut- 
 most energies, to restore elocution to that elevated position in 
 the United States, which it occupied in Greece and Rome, 
 during the flourishing ages of those republics. 
 
ELOCUTION. 17 
 
 THE ELEMENTARY SOUNDS OF THE ENGLISH 
 LANGUAGE. 
 
 The number of elementary sounds in the English language 
 is forty. They are represented by single letters, and by com- 
 binations of two letters. C, CI, and X, have no sounds which 
 are not represented by other letters. In the word come, C. is 
 the representative of the sound of K, in vice, of S. There are 
 fifteen vocals, fifteen sub-vocals, and ten aspirates. 
 
 The vocals consist of a distinct and pure vocality, and have 
 a much more musical quality than the other elements. 
 
 The sub-vocals possess qualities similar to the vocals, being 
 like them, contradistinguished from aspirate or whispering 
 sounds, but their vocality is inferior. 
 
 The aspirates are mere whispers. The elements are heard 
 in the capital letters of the following Phonological Table. 
 Individuals or classes, by practising only ten or fifteen minutes 
 a day, will soon acquire a knowledge of Phonology, together 
 with a correct and elegant articulation, and also render their 
 voices smooth, flexible, and powerful. In schools, or when 
 classes in Elocution are organized, the elements may be given 
 in concert. 
 
 It is convenient and desirable in teaching, or hearing the 
 elementary sounds, to have a Phonological Chart, on a large 
 scale, like a map. 
 
 Mr. Wyse, of the British Parliament, in his work on popu- 
 lar education, insists upon the importance of obtaining a 
 knowledge of the elements. He justly observes, that "it is 
 preposterous to use signs for sounds, before we first possess the 
 sounds for which the signs are to be used." He also says, 
 that "alphabetic teaching, as it is generally practised, is a 
 complication of useless and difficult absurdities." My opinion 
 is, that the names and sounds of the letters, should be taught 
 simultaneously. In common schools, the elements are seldom 
 taught ; and consequently, a large majority of mankind pass 
 through life, without learning them. 
 
 It should be borne in mind, that the elementary exercise, 
 fortifies the pulmonary organs against the invasion of disease. 
 
 To enable an individual the more easily and readily to ana- 
 lyze words, the u Vocals," excepting, OU ; and, TH, which is 
 both a " Sub-vocal " and " Aspirate," are numbered. 
 2* 
 
18 
 
 ELOCUTION. 
 
 PHONOLOGICAL TABLE. 
 
 
 
 VOCALS. 
 
 1. 
 
 A, as heard 
 
 in file, day, fate. 
 
 2. 
 
 A, * ' 
 
 
 " arm, farm, h#rm. 
 
 3. 
 
 A, " ' 
 
 
 " all, orb, Lord. 
 
 4. 
 
 A, " ■ 
 
 
 " man, and, bare. 
 
 1. 
 
 E, " < 
 
 
 " eel, imitate, see. 
 
 2. 
 
 E, « ' 
 
 
 " end, met, let. 
 
 1. 
 
 2. 
 
 I, « i 
 I, " ' 
 
 
 " fsle, %, pine. 
 
 " in, England, been. 
 
 1. 
 
 O, " ' 
 
 
 " old, no, cats. 
 
 2. 
 
 O, " < 
 
 
 " ooze, bse, too, to. 
 
 3. 
 
 O, » < 
 
 
 " on, lock, not. 
 
 1. 
 
 u, « ' 
 
 
 " tube few, pwpil. 
 " un, her, hurt. 
 
 2. 
 
 u, « 
 
 
 3. 
 
 u, " < 
 
 
 " Ml, jwll, welf. 
 
 
 OU, " ' 
 
 
 " #wr, nWr, fl^?6'er. 
 
 
 
 SUB-VOCALS. 
 
 
 B, as h 
 
 3arc 
 
 in £oat, £arb. 
 
 
 D, " 
 
 u 
 
 " day, <:/id, dare. 
 
 
 G, I 
 
 t< 
 
 " #ay, gilt, gig. 
 
 " ^'ust, j/udge, John. 
 
 
 M, " 
 
 11 
 
 " light, Zibcrty. 
 
 " wate, maim, storwi 
 
 
 N, « 
 
 <i 
 
 " no, nine, on. j 
 
 
 NG, " 
 
 (( 
 
 " song, nngor. 
 
 
 R, " 
 
 II 
 
 " roe, rare, orb. 
 
 1. 
 
 TH, " 
 
 u 
 
 " then, with, beneath. 
 
 
 V, " 
 
 cc 
 
 " rice, ralve. 
 
 
 W, " 
 
 <( 
 
 " woe, wave. 
 
 
 Y, << 
 Z, « 
 
 II 
 ft 
 
 " yoke, ye. 
 
 " ^one, his, .Zenophon. 
 
 
 ZH, " 
 
 cc 
 
 " a^ure, enclosure. 
 
 
 
 ASPIRATES. 
 
 
 F, as heard in /ame. dri/t, i/". 
 
 
 H, " 
 
 « 
 
 " ^e, Aenc-e. 
 
 
 K, " 
 
 cc 
 
 M £ite, wrec/iT. 
 
 
 P, « 
 T, « 
 
 M 
 
 (( 
 
 " ^?it, u/?, apt. 
 - " take, it 
 
 
 SH, " 
 
 M 
 
 " sAine, shrink, pus/i. 
 
 
 S, » 
 
 II 
 
 " sin, cell, crisp. 
 
 2 
 
 TH, " 
 
 II 
 
 " thin, mon/is. 
 
 
 CH, " 
 
 II 
 
 " church, chin. 
 
 
 WH, " 
 
 CI 
 
 11 when, what, which. 
 
ELOCUTION. 19 
 
 If the voice be cultivated by exercise upon the elements, 
 and in recitation, it will, as is believed, take such inflections 
 and intonations as .sentiment requires, naturally and sponta- 
 neously. It is true, as Lord Karnes says, that " certain sounds 
 are by nature, allotted to each passion, for expressing it ex- 
 ternally." 
 
 A reader or speaker ought to be so familiar with elocution, 
 as to display its graces without any effort. So surely as an 
 individual thinks of his elocution, at the time he is speaking, 
 just so surely, he will fail of producing any other effect upon 
 his hearers, than to convince them that he takes no interest in 
 his subject. As a bird, when taken from the illimitable fields 
 of nature, and deprived of the air and foliage of the forest, 
 loses the brilliancy of its plumage ; so, the slightest appear- 
 ance of being governed by rules, is fatal to eloquence. No 
 professor of elocution can describe, in so many words, what is 
 the mysterious power in which true and genuine eloquence 
 consists. He can only say, that, to be truly eloquent, a man 
 must well understand the subject upon which he speaks ; he 
 must have complete control over the modulations of his voice ; 
 his gestures must be natural and graceful ; and he must speak 
 under the influence of deep feeling, emanating from its appro- 
 priate fountain, the heart. His articulation, too, must be cor- 
 rect and elegant. 
 
 As a correct articulation consists in the distinct utterance of 
 the elements, it may be advantageous to exhibit a table of 
 the analysis of words, in which there are both easy and diffi- 
 cult combinations of elements. The first column contains 
 words as they are usually spelled ; the second, their elements. 
 To know how our language is composed, it is necessary to 
 decompose it. According to the system of teaching spelling 
 which obtains in our schools, the pupil is obliged to mention 
 the name of the letters which compose words. He ought also 
 to be required to spell words by uttering, separately, each 
 element. As there are many silent letters in words, and as 
 words themselves are not always spelled in accordance with 
 the sounds of the letters of which they are composed, the best 
 means of making a person a good reader, or an eloquent speak- 
 er, is, to teach him the sounds which single letters or combi- 
 nation of two letters, actually have ; and the adoption of this 
 method will enable the pupil to give them as Phonology 
 requires. 
 
20 
 
 ELOCUTION. 
 
 TABLE OF THE ANALYSIS OF WORDS. 
 
 WORDS. 
 
 ELEMENTS. 
 
 WORDS. 
 
 
 ELEMENTS., 
 
 ale 
 
 l.a-1 
 
 fame 
 
 1. 
 
 f-a-m 
 
 day 
 
 l.d-a 
 
 cart 
 
 % 
 
 k-a-r-t 
 
 flew 
 
 1. f-l-u 
 
 orbs 
 
 3. 
 
 a-r-b-z 
 
 crew 
 
 1. k-r-u 
 
 awful 
 
 3. 
 
 a-f-u-l 
 
 laugh 
 
 4. 1-a-f 
 
 fair 
 
 4. 
 
 f-a-r 
 
 Lord. 
 
 3. L-a-r-d 
 
 awe 
 
 3. 
 
 a 
 
 iamb 
 
 4. l-a-m 
 
 tasks 
 
 4. 
 
 t-a-s-k-s 
 
 sky 
 
 l.s-k-i 
 
 mulcts 
 
 2. 
 
 m-u-1-k-t-s 
 
 oak 
 
 l.o-k 
 
 bursts 
 
 2. 
 
 b-u-r-s-t-s 
 
 once 
 
 2. w-u-n-s 
 
 dredged 
 
 2. 
 
 d-r-e-d-j-d 
 
 clear 
 
 1. k-l-e-r 
 
 acts 
 
 4. 
 
 a-k-t-s 
 
 wool 
 
 3. w-u-1 
 
 church 
 
 2. 
 
 ch-u-r-ch 
 
 eye 
 
 l.i 
 
 John 
 
 3. 
 
 Jo-n 
 
 dare 
 
 4. d-a-r 
 
 George 
 
 3. 
 
 J-a-r-j 
 
 vein 
 
 1. v-a-n 
 
 mix 
 
 2. 
 
 m-i-k-s 
 
 shrine 
 
 1. sh-r-i-n 
 
 strange 
 
 1. 
 
 s-t-r-a-n-j 
 
 shrink 
 
 2. sh-r-i-n-k 
 
 phthisic 
 
 2. 
 
 tn-z-i-k 
 
 pause 
 
 3. p-a-z 
 
 what 
 
 3. 
 
 wh-o-t 
 
 nature 
 
 1. n-a-ch-u-r 
 
 law 
 
 3. 
 
 1-a 
 
 whelmed 
 
 2. wh-e-1-m-d 
 
 exchequer 
 
 2. 
 
 e-k-s-ch-e-k-i 
 
 stretch 
 
 2. s-t-r-e-ch 
 
 Sphinxs 
 
 2. 
 
 S-f-i-n-k-s 
 
 whisps 
 
 2. wh-i-s-p-s 
 
 mouths 
 
 
 m-ou-th-z 
 
 rytlim 
 
 2. r-i-th-m 
 
 suspects 
 
 2. 
 
 s-u-s-p-e-k-t-s 
 
 pray 
 beneath 
 
 1. p-r-a 
 
 friendship 
 
 2. 
 
 f-r-e-n-d-sh-i-p 
 
 1. b-e-n-e-th 
 
 group 
 
 2. 
 
 g-r-o-p 
 
 months 
 
 2. m-u-n-th-s 
 
 wives 
 
 1. 
 
 w-i-v-z 
 
 twists 
 
 2. t-w-i-s-t-s 
 
 question 
 
 2. 
 
 k-w-e-s-ch-n 
 
 ARTICULATION, OR EXAMPLES IN SOME 
 ITS MOST DIFFICULT COMBINATIONS. 
 
 OF 
 
 The faults of readers and speakers in articulation, may be 
 attributed, either to the entire omission of some of the elemen- 
 tary sounds which belong to words, to the introduction of 
 supernumerary elements into them, or to the exchanging of 
 one element for another. 
 
 For example, a portion of the elementary sounds are fre- 
 quently omitted in the following words, thus : months is in- 
 correctly called, munce ; purse, pus; priests, priests; ghosts, 
 ghosts ; Christs, Chris's ; basks, bas's. 
 
 Supernumerary elements are sometimes introduced, thus : 
 heav'n is improperly called heaven ; little, littel. 
 
 Exchanging one element for another, as in the following 
 
ELOCUTION. 21 
 
 instances, is a very common fault. President, is frequently 
 called, presidunt ; Providence, Providunce; silent, silunt ; 
 goodness, goodniss ; gospel, gospil ; consider, cunsider ; govern- 
 ment, govermut ; Birmingham, Brumegwm ; London, Lonon. 
 Occasionally, several errors are made even in a short sen- 
 tence, thus: Lord Berun's Pride of Abedus ; — instead of say- 
 ing, Lord Efyron's Bride of Abydos. These faults, and all 
 others of a similar character, may be remedied, and a clear, 
 distinct, and elegant enunciation acquired, by exercising the 
 voice, as well upon the combinations of those sounds which 
 are most difficult of utterance, as upon the elements separately. 
 
 Let the pupil exercise upon the following sentences of 
 difficult articulation, and let him be careful to sound, every 
 element. 
 
 The words in which errors are most likely to be made are 
 italicised. 
 
 " Search the scriptures. 71 
 
 " Music, and poetry, and sculpture" 
 
 " Your healths, gentlemen." 
 
 " The heights, depths, and breadths of the subject." 
 
 " I thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of my 
 thumb." 
 
 " A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy call." 
 
 " It was the severest storm of the season, but the masts stood 
 through the gale." 
 
 u His acts being seven ages." 
 
 " The acts of the Apostles." 
 
 " This act more than all other acts of the Legislature, laid 
 the axe at the root of the evil." 
 
 " On either side an ocean exists." 
 
 " On neither side a notion exists." 
 
 u When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw." 
 
 " Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down." 
 
 u The magistrates ought to prove the charge." 
 
 " The magistrates sought to prove the charge." 
 
 " At midnight in the forest shades." 
 
 " That lasts till night." 
 
 " That last still night." 
 
 " Without leave asked of thee." 
 
 u And his disciples asked him." 
 
 " Because thou hast not asked riches, wealth, or honor, 
 rTeither yet hast asked long life, but hast asked wisdom and 
 
22 ELOCUTION. 
 
 knowledge for thyself; wisdom and knowledge is granted 
 unto thee." 
 
 " Fair ladies mask'd are roses in their buds, 
 Dismasted, their damask sweet commixture shown, 
 Are angels veiling clouds, or roses blown." 
 
 " He proposed an amicable adjustment of all difficulties." 
 
 " We must fight it through." 
 
 " It must be so." 
 
 " After the most str attest sect." 
 
 " This was the most unkindest cut" 
 
 " Amidst the mists he thrusts his fists against the posts. 
 And still insists he sees the ghosts." 
 
 duintilian observes, that " there is no one who has not ob- 
 tained something by application." Practising upon the ele- 
 ments and upon difficult sentences, will prepare the voice for 
 recitation, reading, and public speaking. 
 
 The Grecians were obliged to exhibit satisfactory evidence, 
 that they had been engaged for ten months at Elis, in gymnas- 
 tic and almost incessant exercises, before they were allowed to 
 contend for any of the prizes of the national games at Olym- 
 pia. The great object at which they seem to have aimed, 
 was, to excel each other. Be it ours to endeavor to surpass 
 our former selves. Let us cherish that spirit which is por- 
 trayed by Dryden : 
 
 " A noble emulation heats your breast, 
 And your own fame now robs you o f your rest." 
 
 Let American youth spend as much time in improving their 
 elocution, as the Greeks did in qualifying themselves to run 
 for the prizes at the Olympic games ; and, to say the least, 
 good readers and speakers would be greatly multiplied 
 among us. 
 
 It is certainly vain to imagine, that while a knowledge of 
 law, theology, physic, &c. cannot be obtained without study, 
 yet, that proficiency in oratory requires no effort at all. Na- 
 ture can only lay the foundation ; the superstructure, with all 
 its ornaments, is the work of education. Although those noble 
 gifts of mind, without which no one can become an eloquent 
 speaker, are from nature's God, yet articulation, the elements, 
 quantity, &c. are to be learned. 
 
ELOCUTION. 23 
 
 By indefatigable study, and long continued practice, the 
 renowned orators of antiquity became almost perfect in articu- 
 lation. They were unwilling that even a single error should 
 escape their lips. This is one of the great secrets of their im- 
 mortality. They knew that the faculty of speech is the 
 power of giving sounds to thought. They were correct in 
 their views ; and nothing is wanting but zeal and perseve- 
 rance, to enable the young men of the United States, to make 
 great and extraordinary improvement in oratory. 
 
 SPECIMENS, ACCOMPANIED BY OBSERVATIONS, 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF GOOD READING. 
 
 In order to read well, the meaning of an author must be 
 perfectly understood. If it be not, an individual will necessa- 
 rily read at random. The reason there is so much formality 
 and affectation in the declamation of school-boys, is owing to 
 their ignorance of the meaning of the writers whose pieces 
 they attempt to recite. Can a school-boy analyze the works 
 of the great and unrivalled delineator of human character? 
 Can he read well the writings of him, whose " thoughts that 
 voluntarily move harmonious numbers," elevate the mind to 
 the "blue serene?" Has his voice fulness, power, and stately 
 elegance enough to exemplify the majesty of Shakspeare and 
 Milton ? Iu vain, may he undertake to read or recite Ham- 
 let's soliloquy on death, Antony's oration over Csesar's body, 
 or the meeting of Satan, Sin, and Death. Unless his instructor 
 teaches him the meaning of such pieces, and of all pieces 
 which he does not understand, his attempts at declamation 
 will be unsuccessful, and unattended with beneficial results. 
 It avails nothing for a teacher to say to his scholars : You read 
 \ too fast ; you don't mind your stops j 
 
 Learn to speak slow — all other graces 
 Will follow in their proper places." 
 
 This is mere poetry, in which there is but little truth. There 
 are many bad readers whose faults do not consist in quick 
 time. 
 
 Equally unavailing is it, for a teacher to tell his pupils to be 
 natural. The teacher himself must be a good reader, otherwise 
 
24 ELOCUTION. 
 
 his scholars cannot become so. If the copy he sets be in bad 
 taste, let him not blame his imitators. To read the narrative 
 of the blind man, and St. Paul's description of the resurrection, — - 
 to speak of the turning of a top. and of the bright orbs which 
 circle their way in the heavens, — to tell a story and attempt 
 to pour forth 
 
 " the resistless eloquence of woe," 
 
 in the same intonations, key, and quantity of voice, is as ab- 
 surd as it would be to sing, were it practicable, all sentiments, 
 in Mear or Old Hundred. 
 
 They know little of human nature, who do not know that 
 no faculty in a child is stronger, or earlier developed than imi- 
 tation. We are no less creatures of imitation than of habit. 
 Let the teacher of reading, then, be his lesson. Let him in 
 his own person, illustrate and justify the poet's representation : 
 
 " A proper judge will read each work of wit 
 With the same spirit that its author writ." 
 
 If teachers of youth would always take pains to understand 
 the meaning of an author, and would read to their pupils un- 
 der the influence of the same feelings which animated him 
 at the time he wrote, good readers would be as common, as 
 they are now rare, among us. Educators must be educated, — 
 teachers themselves must be taught elocution, before they are 
 competent to teach the sublime art to others. No man should 
 assume a station until he is in some measure qualified to per- 
 form the duties which it imposes upon him. It is not enough 
 that a minister, lawyer, physician, or teacher, does the best he 
 can. He must know what are the duties of his profession ; 
 and knowing, perform them well. 
 
 A distinguished writer observes, that "not to teach, is only 
 the absence of good ; to misteach, is positive evil." It is even 
 so. Pupils naturally and almost unavoidably imbibe the 
 errors of their teachers. As the pupil advances in years, 
 his errors increase in number and force, until it is almost 
 impossible for him to unlearn and abandon them. The ear- 
 lier, therefore, elocution is taught, the better. 
 
 Without farther remarks on reading, attention is invited to 
 a few specimens, designed to show the indispensable neces- 
 sity of perfectly understanding an author, in order to do him 
 
ELOCUTION. 25 
 
 justice. The Scriptures are not always read with nice dis- 
 crimination ; in other words, the sense or sentiment is some- 
 times improperly or imperfectly conveyed. Philip inquired 
 of the nobleman of Ethiopia, " Understandest thou what thou 
 readest ?" May we not ask some readers of the Bible, in 
 modern times, the same question % And, moreover, if indivi- 
 duals do understand what they read, is it not often the case, 
 that their intonations of voice are unadapted to the subject ? 
 The power of expressing the emotions of the heart, as well as 
 the operations of the mind, is recognized in the Scriptures. 
 King David speaks of " the voice of joy," and "the voice of 
 supplication ;" by which he doubtless means, that the elocu- 
 tion of joy is very different from that of prayer. 
 
 A striking instance of the importance of inquiring into the 
 meaning of an author, and of adapting the voice to it, is to be 
 found in the latter part of St. John, xix. 6. Pilate is there re- 
 presented to have said to the chief priests and officers who 
 were determined to imbrue their hands and hearts in the 
 blood of Jesus Christ: " Take ye him, and crucify him ; for I 
 find no fault in him." All who are familiar with that portion 
 of the Scriptures which relates to the crucifixion, know that 
 Pilate thus spake, after he had taken Jesus into the judgment 
 hall by himself, and examined him, and had become so well 
 satisfied of his innocence, that he believed him to be, as he 
 says in Matthew, xxvii. 24, "a just person." It is written in 
 St. Mark, xv. 14, that Pilate inquired of the chief priests who 
 called upon him to deliver Christ into their hands ; u Why, 
 what evil hath he done ?" In St. Luke, xxiil 4, Pilate said, 
 * I find no fault in this man." It is certain that Pilate saw no 
 evidence that Christ was guilty of the crimes with which he 
 was charged. It is equally certain that he intended " to have 
 no hand in his death." It is, therefore, easy to perceive that 
 if the passage in St. John : " Take ye him and crucify him, 
 for I find no fault in him," be read at random, as absurd an 
 idea may be conveyed, as if a court of oyer and terminer 
 should say to the sheriff of a county, in reference to a man 
 charged with the perpetration of a crime, but against whom 
 no evidence had been adduced to prove him guilty : Take this 
 man and execute him : for he is innocent ! By giving sufficient 
 power of voice to make the word a ye," prominent, and 
 the letter " I," still more so, the true meaning will be con- 
 veyed. Thus : " Take ye him and crucify him, for I find no 
 3 
 
26 ELOCUTION. 
 
 fault in him f and, inasmuch as I do not, Pilate might have 
 added, I will have nothing to do with his crucifixion. It was 
 foolish as well as wicked in Pilate, to release a personage into 
 the cruel hands of persecutors and murderers, whom he be- 
 lieved to be so innocent, that, as he says in St. John, xviii. 38, 
 he could " find in him no fault at aUP 
 
 My principal object, however, in directing the reader's at- 
 tention to this subject, is to illustrate a highly essential princi- 
 ple in elocution, — the importance of correct reading. 
 
 An example from Macbeth, in Shakspeare, may serve to 
 illustrate still farther, the necessity of ascertaining the exact 
 meaning of every sentence we read. Duncan, king of Scot- 
 land, consented to become the guest of his kinsman, Macbeth. 
 An opportunity for murdering the king, offers itself. Mac- 
 beth's ambitious wife conjures him not to let it slip. Macbeth 
 had met three of Shakspeare's imaginary beings, called witches, 
 two of whom hailed him with titles of nobility ; the third, with 
 that of future king. This circumstance, combined with the 
 importunity of Lady Macbeth and his own towering ambition, 
 led him to assassinate the king and seize upon the crown. 
 When the dagger hovered before Macbeth's eyes, at the feast, 
 his mind was " ill at ease." He was fearful that justice would 
 cry out " trumpet-tongued against the deep damnation" of the 
 sanguinary deed. But the demoniac firmness of his wick- 
 ed wife "screwed his courage to the sticking point" in the 
 murder of the king. While revolving over in his mind the 
 consequences which would accrue to him and others, from the 
 commission of the atrocious crime, he said : 
 
 " If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well 
 It were done quickly ; if the assassination 
 Could trammel up the consequence, and catch 
 With his surcease, success ; that but this blow, 
 Might be the be-all and the end-all here — 
 But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, 
 We'd jump the life to come!" 
 
 By saying B if it were done, when His done, then 'twere well it 
 were done quickly," Macbeth means : if, when the crime is 
 committed, no evil consequence will result from it, the sooner 
 it is perpetrated, the better. It is, therefore, necessary to ele- 
 vate the voice on the word done, as it first occurs. Any other 
 mode of reading it, conveys either no idea, or a very absurd 
 one. Repentance immediately follows ; nay, if it be proper 
 
ELOCUTION. 27 
 
 thus to speak, it even precedes the deed. But the crown glit- 
 tered before his eyes ; and, supposing that he could escape 
 detection and punishment, he stretched out the murderous arm 
 and spilt the life-blood of his kinsman whom he had enter- 
 tained, and charged the flagrant crime upon his guards. The 
 compunctious stings of conscience left him no rest either night 
 or day. True to the life has the great poet of nature painted 
 the picture. Macbeth exclaims : 
 
 " Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood 
 Clean from my hand ] No ; this my hand will rather 
 The multitudinous seas incarnardine, 
 Making the green — one red." 
 
 " Better be with the dead, 
 Whom we, to gain our place, have sent to peace, 
 Than on the torture of the mind to lie 
 In restless ecstasy [agony] — " 
 
 Macbeth means, that his hands are so deeply stained with 
 blood, that should he wash them in the vast ocean, it would 
 change its aspect from green to that of red throughout. If it 
 be read as it is punctuated in some, if not all the editions of 
 Shakspeare, thus : " making the green one red," the absurd 
 idea is conveyed, that there was only blood enough upon his 
 hand to make a green sea red, in contradistinction to one of 
 some other color. The word " green" implies " the multitu- 
 dinous seas," — " all great Neptune's ocean ;" it should, there- 
 fore, be punctuated and read thus: "making the green— -one 
 red." The word " green" should be read exactly as if it were 
 sea or ocean. 
 
 The above extracts from Shakspeare are in the last scene 
 of the first act, and the second scene of the second act of Mac- 
 beth. 
 
 It may not be unimportant or unprofitable to the reader, to 
 give an example from Coriolanus. In the fifth act and third 
 scene of Coriolanus, in answer to the question of his mother, 
 Volumnia: "Do you know this lady?" he says: 
 
 " The noble sister of Publicola — 
 The moon of Rome — chaste as the icicle, 
 That's curded by the frost from purest snow, 
 And hangs on Dian's temple — Dear Valeria !" 
 
 How are we to understand Coriolanus ? According to the 
 mythology of the Romans, Diana was the goddess of chastity. 
 
28 ELOCUTION. 
 
 The word " moon/' implies the goddess Diana, upon whose 
 temple the icicle is represented to have hung. The sentiment 
 intended to be conveyed by the " swan of Avon," is, that the 
 matron Valeria, was chaste as the goddess Diana. This spe- 
 cimen does not require a very rhetorical reading ; it is given 
 to show the importance of what is called intellectual elocution. 
 It is a fault of many readers and speakers, to close their sen- 
 tences or speeches, as though their voices died away, and they 
 with them. Others make small and comparatively unimpor- 
 tant words too prominent ; thus, " This is a question of fact 
 for the jury, and not of law for the court, and if the court as- 
 sume the responsibility ^deciding this question, which belongs 
 to the jury and not to the court, then I shall say in the lan- 
 guage of the immortal bard : 
 
 " Farewell, liberty, and farewell freedom." 
 
 It need not be said, that elocution requires the words in italic 
 in the above, and the following specimens, to be pronounced 
 with less, instead of greater emphasis, than the more important 
 words. " If the gentleman could see a man in the presidential 
 chair of a lofty stature, manly eloquence, easy manners, and a 
 defender of a, high tariff, he would be, doubtless, contented." 
 
 There are, however, some instances in which the meaning 
 of a sentence depends upon the emphatic manner in which 
 small words are pronounced. In the " Merchant of Venice," 
 Bassanio thus apologises to his wife, for having given a ring 
 which he received from her, to a friend : 
 
 " If you did know to whom I gave the ring, 
 If you did know for whom I gave the ring, 
 And would conceive for what I gave the ring, 
 And how unwillingly I left the ring, 
 When naught would be accepted but the ring, 
 You would abate the strength of your displeasure." 
 
 . An emphatic stress upon the small words in italic, in this ex- 
 ample, makes it intelligible and interesting. 
 
 The art of reading in a graceful and impressive manner, is 
 of great value to ladies, as well as gentlemen. The subject is 
 presented in its true and interesting light, in the following ex- 
 tract from the North American Review : " It ought to be a 
 leading object in our schools, to teach the art of reading. It 
 ought to occupy three-fold more time than it does. The 
 
ELOCUTION. 29 
 
 teachers of these schools should labor to improve themselves. 
 They should feel, that, to them, for a time, are committed 
 the future orators of the land. We had rather have a child, 
 of either sex, return to us from school, a first rate reader, 
 than a first rate performer on the piano. We should feel that 
 we had a far better pledge for the intelligence and talent of 
 our child. The accomplishment, in its perfection, would give 
 more pleasure. The voice of song is not sweeter than the 
 voice of eloquence. And there may be eloquent readers, as 
 well as eloquent speakers. We speak of perfection in this art, 
 and it is something, we must say in defence of our preference, 
 which we have never yet seen. Let the same pains be devo- 
 ted to reading, as are required to form an accomplished per- 
 former on an instrument ; let us have our formers of the voice, 
 the music masters of the reading voice, as the ancients had ; 
 let us see years devoted to this accomplishment, and then we 
 shall be prepared to stand the comparison. It is, indeed, a 
 most intellectual accomplishment. So is music, too, in its 
 perfection. But one recommendation of the art of reading, is, 
 that it requires a constant exercise of mind. It demands con- 
 tinual and close reflection and thought, and the finest discrimi- 
 nation of thought. It involves, in its perfection, the whole art 
 of criticism on lansruacre." 
 
 ON QUANTITY, OR THE PROLONGATION OF 
 THE VOCAL ELEMENTS. 
 
 All well informed individuals know the meaning of quantity 
 in vocal music. In elocution, it seems not to be equally well 
 understood. In speech, as well as in song, it consists in pro- 
 longing the vocal elements, which are usually called the vowel 
 sounds, without elevating the voice upon them. It is decidedly 
 the most important part of expression. It is emphasis by time. 
 It should not be given, except upon words or sentences of un- 
 usual importance. Solemn subjects, prayers, every thing of 
 deep pathos, — all pieces, whether in prose or poetry, relating 
 to the great and imperishable interest of man, as a being who 
 has entered upon an interminable state of duration, such as St. 
 Paul's description of the resurrection, Montgomery's Grave, 
 3* 
 
30 ELOCUTION. 
 
 Thanatopsis, Adam and Eve's Morning Hymn, and our Lord's 
 Prayer, should be read or recited with quantity. 
 
 In giving quantity, singing and drawling must be avoided. 
 There should be no admixture of either. Pure speech should 
 be preserved. Shakspeare warns us against " mouthing our 
 words," by which he doubtless means, drawling. Haifa century 
 since, public speakers and readers were more in the habit of 
 degenerating into singing or drawling, or both, than now. But 
 whoever will be at the trouble, to become theoretically and 
 practically acquainted with elocution, will see, that our cotempo- 
 raries are not entirely free from such faults. Those who read 
 and partly sing at the same time, do neither well. It is rela- 
 ted of Caesar, that a person read with such a degree of song 
 before him, that he inquired: " Do you read, or sing?" 
 
 The sound of an agreeable voice is made by inhaling the 
 air into the recesses of the lungs, and throwing it skilfully 
 through the lips and nostrils. 
 
 In pronouncing an element, a certain amount of time is un- 
 avoidably consumed. It is easy to perceive that in the word 
 name, we necessarily give the letter a, a longer sound than in 
 man. In name, the e is silent. It has therefore three sounds. 
 The word man, too, has three sounds. The only difference 
 is: in the word name, the a has a long sound ; in man, short. 
 In pronouncing either of the words, the organs of speech as- 
 sume three distinctive positions. Nearly all words are sus- 
 ceptible of quantity, to some extent. It can, however, much 
 more easily be given upon words, the vocal sounds of which 
 are long, as in ale, all, eve, isle, old, ooze. It is peculiarly im- 
 proper to attempt to give quantity to syllables, the time of 
 which cannot be extended, without changing their elementary 
 and natural sounds. Act, 'pit, end, art, flood, memory, are of 
 this description. 
 
 The syllables and words marked in italic, in the following 
 examples, require quantity. 
 
 u Oh ! happiness, our being^s end and aim. 71 
 
 u Green be thy fields, sweetest isle of the ocean." 
 
 "Roll on, thou dark and deep blue ocean, roll. 71 
 
 u Hail ho-ly light." " We praise thee, O Lord." 
 
ELOCUTION. 31 
 
 * 0, thou that roll-est above." " The curfew tolls? 1 
 
 u Sorrow breaks seasons and re-posing hours, 
 Makes the night ?nor?i-mg, and the ?icon-tide night." 
 
 M And every turf beneath their feet. 
 Shall be a sc/-dier's sepulchre." 
 
 " When I am forgotten, as I shall be. 
 And sleep in dull, cold marble." 
 
 " Roll on, ye dark, brown years : for ye bring no joy in 
 your course." 
 
 " On the cold cheek of death, smiles and roses are blending. 
 And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb. 11 
 
 " Yet a few days, and the all-be-hold-ing 
 Sun shall see no more, in all his course. 7 '' 
 
 u Oh! flowers, that never will in other climate grow." 
 
 " High on a throne of royal state." 
 
 u Join voices, all ye living souls." 
 
 tt Hail, universal Lord." 
 
 ' O, my mother Earth, take home thy child." 
 
 u Come to the bridal cha,m-ber, Death." 
 
 " So Jet it be with Caesar." 
 
 u Here comes his body, mourn-ed by Mark Antony." 
 
 " The roll-ing surf, as it breaks over the reef, will resound 
 to him a deep and sol-emn requiem." 
 
 "Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?" 
 
 a .Fare-well awhile ; I will not leave you long." 
 
 u Could we but climb where Moses stood, 
 And view the landscape o'er, — 
 
32 ELOCUTION. 
 
 Not Jor-dan's stream, nor death 1 s cold flood, 
 Should fright us from the shore.'' 1 
 
 u I heard many angels round about the throne, saying with 
 a loud voice, toor-thy is the Lamb that was slain 11 
 
 " Be-hokl! I show you a mystery: We shall not all sleep, 
 but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling 
 of an eye, at the last trump ; for the trumpet shall" sound, and 
 the dead shall be raised ^-corruptible, and we shall be 
 
 changed 11 
 
 a And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God ; 
 and the books were opened, and an-o^A-er book was opened, 
 which is the book of 'Life ; and the dead were judged out of 
 those things which were written in the books, according to 
 their ivories. 11 
 
 " And then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in 
 heaven, and then shall ail the tribes of the earth mourn, and 
 they shall see the Son of man, coming in the clouds of heaven, 
 with power and great glory 11 
 
 " Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy 
 kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. 
 Give us, this da\^ our daily bread ; and forgive us our tres- 
 passes, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead 
 us not into temptation ; but deliver us from e-vil : For thine is 
 the 7ang-&om, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. 
 Amen? 1 
 
 " Scaling yonder peak, 
 I saw an eagle wheeling near its brow ; 
 O'er the abyss, his broad ex-pan-ded wings 
 Lay calm and motionless upon the air, 
 As if he floated there \vi\h-cut their aid, 
 By the sole act of his unlorded will, 
 That buoy'd him proudly up. Instinctively 
 I bent my bow, yet kept he rounding still 
 His airy circle, as in the de-light 
 Of measuring the ample range beneath, 
 And round about; absorb- d, he heeded not 
 The death that threatened him. I could not shoot. 
 ' Twos lib-crty. I turned my bow aside, 
 And let him soar away." 
 
 Some of the sub-vocal elements, in certain combinations, ad- 
 
ELOCUTION. 33 
 
 mit of quantity ; the aspirates, seldom. Quantity upon the sub- 
 vocals and aspirates, is inadmissible at the beginning of sylla- 
 bles. In reading or reciting sublime pieces, or solemn passa- 
 ges of Scripture, care must be taken not to give quantity to eve- 
 ry syllable, nor the same long quantity to every word. Words 
 require a greater or less degree of quantity, according to their 
 real or comparative importance. To avoid monotony, and that 
 disagreeable tone which consists in a recurrent melody, the 
 voice must not be permitted to rest, for many moments, on the 
 same pitch. It must be constantly undergoing such changes 
 as sentiment demands, in the rising, falling, and circumflex 
 inflections. 
 
 Quantity cannot be given, without considerable compass of 
 voice. The term, in its most extended sense, implies volume 
 or fulness of sound. In elocution, as in music, a sound may 
 be either loud or soft on the same note. Speakers and readers 
 who wish to excite the admiration of their hearers, would do 
 well to increase their compass of voice, instead of raising their 
 key. Quantity, in its perfection, 
 
 " Comes o'er the ear, like the sweet south, 
 
 Which breathes upon a bank of violets, ^ 
 
 Stealing and giving odor." 
 
 The other elements of expression, are pitch, force, and 
 quality, or hind of yoice ; each of which, is of consequence, 
 because every syllable must be sounded, either on a higher or 
 lower key ; it must have more or less force, and have some 
 one quality of voice, as- well as consume more or less time in 
 its utterance, ft is* % however, deemed unnecessary to bestow 
 special attention upori any of the elements of expression, in 
 this work, except quantity. 
 
 It is be^eved that teachers who introduce this book into 
 their schools, academies, or colleges ; and gentlemen who may 
 peruse it, will exercise good taste enough to pitch the voice, 
 and give it that quality and degree of force which circum- 
 stances, sentiments, or pieces may require. 
 
 The different combinations of the four elements, which are 
 here mentioned, and the most important of which, it'need not 
 be repeated, is quantity, produce all the varieties of expression, 
 Of which the voice is capable. 
 
 Emphasis, the laws of which should not be, by any means, 
 ; disregarded, is produced by combining force and pitch. It 
 
34 ELOCUTION. 
 
 consists in elevating the voice, and giving it a forcible stress 
 upon words or syllables. To prevent emphasis from being 
 confounded with quantity, as well as with a view to elucidate 
 its meaning, it will be illustrated in the next article. 
 
 ON EMPHASIS. 
 
 By emphasis, is meant a particular and forcible utterance 
 of significant words, so as to convey their meaning in the most 
 lively and striking manner. It consists chiefly in the loudness 
 of the note in which they are uttered. It imparts brilliancy to 
 composition. It requires that words which are the most im- 
 portant in sense, be made the most prominent to the ear of the 
 nearer. Words that stand for new ideas should be emphasised. 
 
 No precise rules can properly be laid down to regulate the 
 application of emphasis. In order that it may be correctly 
 used, the exact import of what is read, must be understood. 
 To avoid that jerking emphasis which is sometimes witnessed 
 on the part of readers and speakers, let them employ a portion 
 of quantity. Emphasis and quantity, judiciously combined, 
 constitute the very soul of delivery. A caution, however, 
 must be given against uniting them too frequently. Empha- 
 sis itself, is inseparably associated with sentiment and emotion. 
 Thoughts, to which it is given, should beam from the eye, and 
 play upon the countenance, before they are uttered. A speaker 
 or reader should be enamoured with his subject. It should 
 fill his heart. Then will emphatic stress be spontaneous, 
 natural, and deeply impressive. 
 
 Cicero says, that " every emotion of the mind has naturally 
 its peculiar c irtennnce, voice, and gesture, which, like the 
 strings of a musical instrument, act agreeably to the impres- 
 sions they receive from the mind." The place and amount 
 of emphasis, must be determined by the sense of the passage, 
 and by the exercise of good taste and, enlightened reason. An 
 emphatic word is generally, but not always, used antithetically, 
 with some other word or phrase. 
 
 To assist the student in reading and oratory, a few exam- 
 ples will now be given, in which the italicised words should 
 be made emphatic. Let it not be supposed that the same 
 quantity of emphasis is due to each word thus marked. As 
 Dr, Gregory, in his treatise on the composition and delivery of 
 
ELOCUTION. 35 
 
 a sermon, observes : " That emphasis is best, which is most 
 discriminative" It will be perceived from the following speci- 
 mens, that emphatic stress is sometimes absolute. 
 
 ABSOLUTE EMPHASIS. 
 
 " I warn you, do not dare to lay your hands on the consti- 
 tution." 
 
 " Why will ye die . ? " 
 
 " Has the gentleman done, has he completely done ?" 
 
 " Shall we try argument ? Sir, we have been trying that, 
 5>r the last ten years." 
 
 " We must J^." 
 
 u Conquest awaits you." 
 
 " To arms ! to arms /" 
 
 " Who dares to tremble, by this weapon, dies." 
 
 " Up ! comrades, up !" 
 
 " Haste ! pass the seas. Fly hence ! Begone /" 
 
 " Soldiers ! stand firm." 
 
 " On ! on ! ye brave. Rise ! fellow-men !" 
 
 " Back, to the infernal pit, I drag thee chained." 
 
 " Whence and what art thou, execrable shape ?" 
 
 " Angels and ministers of grace, defend us." 
 
 emphatic stress by contrast, or antithetic emphasis. 
 
 " Virtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures." 
 
 J " The man of wisdom, is the man of years." 
 
 " But own man born to live, as well as die" 
 
 " Virtue alone outbuilds the pyramids ; 
 
 Her monuments shall last, when Egypt's fall." 
 
36 ELOCUTION. 
 
 " High w.orth is elevated place." 
 
 " Short pleasures for long woes are to succeed." 
 
 " Kind souls, what ! weep you, when you but behold 
 Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here ! 
 Here is himself." 
 
 " And wisdom at one entrance, quite shut out." 
 
 " At thirty, man suspects himself a fool." 
 
 " Thou sun ! of this world both eye and soul, 
 Acknowledge Him thy greater." 
 
 " A day, an hour of virtuous liberty, is worth a whole eter- 
 nity of bondage." 
 
 " Oh ! swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon," 
 
 " O, Death, the good man's dearest friend" 
 
 " The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds." 
 
 " And Nathan said to David, thou art the man." 
 
 " Then said the chief priests of the Jews, to Pilate : Write 
 not, the king of the Jews ; but that he said, I am king of the 
 Jews." 
 
 "Henceforth, there is laid up for me a crown of righteous- 
 ness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at 
 that day ; and not to me only, but unto all them also that love 
 his appearing." 
 
 " And Paul said : I would to God, that not only thou, but 
 also all that hear me this day, were both almost and alto- 
 gether such as I am, except these bonds." 
 
 " And it was the sabbath day when Jesus made the clay and 
 opened his eyes." 
 
 " But the Jews did not believe concerning him, that he had 
 been blind and received his sight, until they called the parents 
 of hitn that had received his siofht." 
 
ELOCUTION. 37 
 
 " Dost thou believe on the Son of God ? He answered and 
 said, Who is he. Lord, that I might believe on him ?" 
 
 u I came not to baptize, but to preach the gospel." 
 
 " The queen of the south came from the uttermost parts of 
 the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon ; and, behold J a 
 greater than Solomon is here." 
 
 " It is sown a natural body ; it is raised a spiritual body." 
 
 u If you seek to make one rich, study not to increase his 
 stares j but to diminish his desires" 
 
 Alexander. — a I could honor thy courage, but I detest and 
 must punish thy crimes. 
 
 Robber. — What have I done, of which you can complain ?" 
 
 Gomez. — " Silence, or tremble ! 
 
 Orozembo. — Beardless robber ! I never yet have learned to 
 tremble before man : why before thee, thou less than man ?" 
 
 Rolla.—" That soldier, mark me, is a man. 
 All are not men that wear the human form," 
 
 Dionysius. — " What wonders this ? 
 Is he thy brother ? 
 
 Pythias. — No, not quite my brother ! 
 Not — yes, he is — he is my brother i 
 
 Dion. — Damon, is this a quibble of thy school 1 
 
 Damon. — No quibble, for he is not so in kin, 
 Not in the fashion that the world puts on, 
 But brother in the heart P % 
 
 Othello, — u What dost thou mean? 
 
 Iago. — Good name in man, and woman, dear my lord, 
 Is the immediate jewel of their souls ; 
 Who steals my purse, steals trash ; 'tis something, nothing ; 
 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands * 
 But he that filches from me my good name, 
 Robs me of that which not enriches him, 
 And makes me poor indeed." 
 4 
 
38 ELOCUTION. 
 
 Brakenhury. — a I am, in this, commanded to deliver 
 The noble duke of Clarence to your hands. 
 I'll to the king ; and signify to him. 
 That thus I have resigned to you my charge. 
 
 1st Murderer. — You may, sir. 
 
 2nd Murd. — What, shall we stab him as he sleeps ? 
 
 1st Murd. — No; he'll say 'twas done cowardly when he 
 wakes. 
 
 2nd Murd. — When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never 
 wake until the great judgment day. 
 
 1st Murd. — Why, then he'll say we stabVd him sleeping, 71 
 
 11 The quality of mercy is not strained ; 
 It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaTen 
 Upon the place beneath. It is twice bless'd ; 
 It blesses him that gives, and him that takes" 
 
 " Thus am I doubly arm'd. My death and life, 
 My bane and antidote, are both before me." 
 
 " Though the rock of my last home is shiver'd, 
 
 And its fragments are sunk in the wave > 
 Though I feel that my soul is deliver'd 
 
 To pain — it shall not be its slave. 
 There is many a pang to pursue me ; 
 
 They may crush, but they shall not contemn : 
 They may torture, but shall not subdue me, 
 
 3 Tis of thee that I think — not of them." 
 
 Almost every sentence contains certain words which are 
 more significant than others, and which ought to be distin- 
 guished by a natural and forcible emphasis. Without emphasis, 
 sentences would be resolved into their original words, just as 
 words would become mere syllables, without accent. 
 
 If a good piece be read or recited without presenting in a 
 stronger light to the " mind's eye" of the hearer, words which 
 have a greater share in conveying the author's meaning than 
 the rest, it is uninteresting. It is like gold in the ingot. If, 
 on the other hand, a poor piece be well read or recited, an 
 interest is felt and manifested in hearing it. 
 
 Dionysius, who was entirely destitute of those natural and 
 acquired abilities, without which no man can write poetry 
 well, had the foolish vanity to suppose that he was a great 
 poet. He wrote several poems, if, indeed, they can be called 
 so, which, notwithstanding they were " full of sound and fury, 
 
ELOCUTION. 39 
 
 signifying nothing," were, in the hands of excellent readers, 
 not only listened to with marked attention, at Olympia, but, 
 for a time, received with applause. 
 
 Mr. Addison, of England, very justly observes: "If non- 
 sense, when accompanied with proper emotions of voice and 
 body, has a great influence on men's minds, what might we 
 not expect from many of those admirable discourses which are 
 printed in our tongue, were they delivered with a becoming 
 fervor, and the most agreeable graces of voice and gesture." 
 
 IRONY. 
 
 The elocution of irony can be, and ought to be, such as to 
 create the belief with the hearer, that the speaker does not 
 mean what his language implies. We occasionally hear law- 
 yers, ministers, and other public speakers, say: " I speak 
 ironically." All ironical sentiments may be ironically expressed. 
 The correctness of this position can be fully tested only by the 
 voice. But although it cannot be completely done on paper,- 
 a few examples of irony will be given. It is a high rhetorical 
 figure, which, if not used too frequently, produces a great 
 effect upon an audience. 
 
 Irony should be read, recited, or delivered^ so as to express, 
 both by the countenance and voice, ideas or sentiments dia- 
 . metrically opposed to those which are implied or indicated by 
 the words or the language used. 
 
 " Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last; 
 You spurned me such a day ; another time 
 You call'd me — dog ; and for these courtesies 
 I'll lend you thus much moneys !" — Shylock. 
 
 u What drugs, what charms, what conjuration, and what 
 1 mighty magic I" — Othello. 
 
 "Charming house, and charming lady of the house, ha! 
 ' ha! ha!" — Jealous Wife. 
 
 " O, excellent interpreter of the laws ! master of antiquity ! 
 j corrector and amender of our constitution !" — Cicero. 
 
40 ELOCUTION. 
 
 " They boast they come but to improve our state, enlarge 
 our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error ! Yes, they 
 will give enlightened freedom to our minds, who are them- 
 selves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. They offer 
 us their protection ; yes, such protection as vultures give to 
 lambs, covering and devouring them." — Rolla. 
 
 a Cry aloud ; for he is a god ; either he is talking, or he is 
 pursuing a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth, and must be 
 awakened." — Scripture. 
 
 In the tragedy of " Virginius," Icilius inquires of Virginius, 
 if he intends to stay and see the homage that the Roman 
 people are about to render to Appius Claudius, the Decemvir. 
 The administration of Appius was characterised by the most 
 odious features of despotism ; and Virginius, whose mind was 
 imbued with the love of liberty, was, therefore, decidedly op- 
 posed to it. He thus ironically answers the question of Icilius : 
 
 " Not I ! stay you ; and as you made him, hail him ; 
 And shout, and wave your hand, and cry, long live 
 Our first and last Decemvir, Appius Claudius I 
 For he is first and last, and every one ! 
 Rome owes you much, Icilius." ' 
 
 That is, " Rome owes you" [Icilius] nothing. 
 
 u Yet this is Rome, 
 That sat on her seven hills, and from her throne 
 Of beauty, ruled the world." — Rienzi, 
 
 Mark Antony, in his oration over Caesar's body, with a de- 
 sign to excite odium against the murderers, repeatedly calls 
 them, honorable men. The shrewdness of his speech consists 
 in the art and power with which he portrays Caesar's virtues, 
 and in the studiousness with which he avoids describing in 
 unequivocal language, the atrocious crime of the assassins. 
 Antony, after having shown that Caesar had always been faith- 
 ful to his friends, of whom he was accustomed to consider 
 Brutus one ; that he had filled the coffers of Rome with ran- 
 soms from his own captives, and that he had treated the poor 
 with great kindness, and even wept when they cried; tells his 
 audience, that although Caesar was thus worthy and philan- 
 thropic, 
 
ELOCUTION. 41 
 
 " Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ; 
 And Brutus is an honorable man. 
 You all did see that on the Lupercal, 
 I thrice presented him a kingly crown, 
 Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition 1 
 Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious; 
 And sure he is an honorable man." 
 
 In the spring of the year 1836, the author witnessed the 
 following specimen of irony in the United States Senate : 
 
 " Really, Mr. President, I am delighted with the honorable 
 gentleman's mode of speaking extempore. I like his speeches 
 a good deal better without his notes, than with them. He has 
 this day, thrown all ancient and modern orators into the shade. 
 I cheerfully acknowledge my own inferiority to the honorable, 
 learned, and surpassingly eloquent gentleman. Had he, in 
 the plenitude of his wisdom, compared me to the Ephraim 
 actually named in the Scriptures, I could have borne it tole- 
 rably well j but when he compared me to ether, which, if I 
 understand it rightly, is lighter than thin air, it was really 
 unendurable, and I sink under it." 
 
 EMPHATIC PAUSE. 
 
 An emphatic pause is made by suspending the voice, either 
 immediately anterior or subsequently to the utterance of an 
 important thought. The voice must be so managed as first to 
 create an expectation with the hearers of something extraordi- 
 nary, and then to gratify it. When the pause is made before a 
 striking word, or part of a sentence, is uttered, the suspension 
 of voice must be protracted to such an extent, and with such 
 an elevation, as to leave the sense broken and incomplete, until 
 the thought to which the speaker wishes to direct special 
 attention, is expressed. This rhetorical pause belongs only to 
 subjects of great magnitude. It is, in oratory, very effective. 
 Every orator should have control over it The great and un- 
 rivalled histrionic performer, Mr. Garrick, owes much of his 
 celebrity to the power with which he used it. 
 
 The following examples may serve as a practical exemplifi- 
 cation of emphatic pauses — so far as it can be illustrated, 
 unaided by the voice. It is represented by a dash. 
 4* 
 
42 ELOCUTION. 
 
 " I know not what course others may take ; but as for me, 
 give me liberty, or give me death." 
 
 " It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul, 
 
 Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars ! 
 
 It is the cause. Yet Til not shed her blood ; 
 Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, 
 And smooth as monumental alabaster. 
 Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men. 
 
 Put out the light, and then Put out the light ! 
 
 If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, 
 
 I can again thy former light restore, 
 
 Should I repent me : — but once put out thine, 
 
 Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, 
 
 I know not where is that Pomethian heat, 
 
 That can thy light relume. When I have plucked thy rose, 
 
 I cannot give it vital growth again, 
 
 It must needs wither. I'll smell it on the tree. 
 
 O, balmy breath, that dost almost persuade 
 
 Justice herself to break her sword ! One more, one more. 
 
 Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee 
 
 And love thee after." 
 
 " This is my testament, 
 
 I pray thee give it to a friend of mine, 
 Who may inquire about me." 
 
 " The marriage temple was prepared, 
 The virgins' voices were sent up to heaven, 
 When death did all at once 
 Rise up, and all that pomp did disappear, 
 
 And for the altar, I beheld the tomb. 
 
 He never will return. 
 
 " Death looks but grimly, 
 
 And the deep grave is cheerless yet I do 
 
 I do prefer the certainty of death, 
 Unto the possibility of dishonor." 
 
 " Stop, Icilius ! 
 Thou seest that hand ^ It is a Roman's, boy ; 
 
 J Tis sworn to liberty. It is the friend 
 
 Of honor." 
 
 " You are my witnesses, 
 That this young creature I present to you, 
 I do pronounce my profitably cherished 
 And most deservedly beloved child, 
 My daughter, truly filial, both in word 
 And act, yet even more in act than word, 
 
 And for the man who seeks to win her lov e 
 
 A virgin." 
 
ELOCUTION. 43 
 
 " That voice that voice 1 know that voice ! 
 
 It 'minds me of a voice was coupled with it. 
 And made such music, once to hear it was 
 Enough to make it ever after be 
 Remembered !" 
 
 " No useless coffin enclosed his breast, 
 
 Nor in sheet, nor in shroud, we bound him ; 
 But he lay like a warrior taking his rest — 
 
 With the martial cloak around him. 
 
 # 
 
 " We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, 
 But left him alone in his glory." 
 
 " The time is not far distant when an awful knell shall tell 
 you, that the unburied remains of your revered patriot are 
 
 passing to that sepulchral home, where your kings -your 
 
 heroes your sages and your poets lie." 
 
 Specimens in which the emphatic pause should occur, might 
 easily be greatly multiplied ; but the foregoing, are deemed 
 sufficient to show its beauty and grandeur. The great mass 
 of readers and speakers entirely neglect it ; but it is not ren- 
 dered the less important or effective, by that consideration. 
 
 The reasons for giving a rhetorical pause where it is mark- 
 ed, in these examples, are very obvious. It may, however, be 
 adviseable to dwell for a moment upon one of them. — Othello's 
 soliloquy. Othello had many admirable traits of character. 
 He was frank and generous. The pathetic detail which he 
 gave to Desdemona, of the hardships he had endured, and the 
 dangers he had passed 
 
 " In the tented field," 
 
 constrained her, notwithstanding he was of so different a 
 complexion from her own, to love him ; 
 
 " And he loved her, that she did pity them." 
 
 Othello was truly and ardently attached to her : but he was 
 hasty and impetuous in his disposition, and his suspicions were 
 easily awakened. Desdemona's nature was full of gentleness 
 and compassion, and she was true and constant to her husband. 
 But Iago, whose villany has scarcely a parallel, even in the 
 most odious characters which Shakspeare has drawn, by dark 
 inuendoes and artful insinuations, relative to the conduct of 
 
44 ELOCUTION. 
 
 Desdemona, succeeds in making Othello jealous of her. Othello- 
 then says, in a tone of despair, mingled with revenge : 
 
 " She's gone ! I am abused; and my relief 
 Must be to loathe her," 
 
 When the storm that agitated his bosom, had, in some measure, 
 subsided, he came to the conclusion, to terminate the existence 
 of his wife. She lay upon a sofa, in a dark room. Othello 
 entered it with a light. With broken murmurs and a con- 
 vulsed and shivering frame, he wildly gazed upon his sleep- 
 ing victim, for a short time, and then gave vent to his feelings, 
 in the most sublime soliloquy, the world of poetry ever pro- 
 duced. To read or recite it, particularly the line, " put out 
 the light, and then put out the light," in a colloquial manner, 
 and without an emphatic pause in its proper place, does not 
 convey the meaning of Othello ; or, if it does, conveys it in a 
 manner as ridiculous as was the reply of the person, who, 
 when asked how his wife's health was, answered, pertly: 
 " She's dead, I thank you." The phrase, " put out the light," 
 as it first occurs, implies — -blow out the lamp or candle. 
 
 Where it is repeated, thus: "and then put out the 
 
 light ;" it means, the light of life, A rhetorical pause ought, 
 therefore, to be made after the word u then" expressive of the 
 compunctious visitings of nature, and of his regret at the ne- 
 cessity which seemed to compel him to kill Desdemona. To 
 read or recite the soliloquy merely in a grammatical manner — 
 without quantity, or the rhetorical pause — would leave the 
 impression upon the hearer's mind, that Othello had just 
 " as lieve" smother and kill a lady to whom he had been 
 attached by the strong and silken cords of love, and that lady, 
 too, his own wife, as to blow out a candle or lamp. 
 
 CLIMAX. 
 
 Climax is of two kinds; one of which, consists in amplifi- 
 cation, where the subject rises progressively in importance ; 
 the other species of climax, is a figure of rhetoric, carried 
 beyond the powers of the voice to express. 
 
 The elocution of climax by amplification, requires the voice 
 to be increased in force and quantity, as the subject rises in 
 

 ELOCUTION. 45 
 
 dignity and grandeur. The elocution of that kind of climax, 
 which the voice is incompetent to express, can only be exem- 
 plified by the voice and countenance. 
 
 A few specimens of both kinds will, however, be here given * 
 
 " What a piece of work is man ! how noble in reason ! how 
 infinite in faculties ! in form, and moving, how express and 
 admirable! in action, how like an angel! in apprehension, 
 how like a God /" — Hamlet. 
 
 " It is a crime to put a Roman citizen in bonds ; it is the 
 height of guilt to scourge him ; little less than parricide to 
 put him to death : what name, then, shall I give to the act of 
 crucifying him ?" — Cicero. 
 
 " The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
 
 The solemn temples, the great globe itself" — The Tempest. 
 
 ? Days, months, years, and ages." — Dimond. 
 
 t{ Clarence is come, false, fleeting, perjured Clarence" 
 
 " For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into 
 heaven ; I will exalt my throne above the stars of God ; I will 
 sit, also, upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the 
 north ; I will ascend above the heights of the clouds ; / will 
 be like the Most High !" — Isaiah. 
 
 Climax sometimes produces a very great effect. In the fol- 
 lowing example from the Bible, it not only overwhelmed Eli 
 
 ( in grief; but actually occasioned his immediate death. "And 
 the man said unto Eli, I am he that came out of the army. 
 And he said, what is there done, my son? And the messen- 
 ger answered and said, Israel is fled before the Philistines, 
 and there hath been also a great slaughter among the people ; 
 and thy two sons, also, Hophni and Phinehas, are dead ; and 
 
 \ the ark of God is taken. 11 When Eli was informed, that the 
 
 \ Philistines had not only conquered Israel, and killed, among 
 others, his two beloved sons ; but that they had taken " the 
 ark of God," for the safety of which, he had felt very solici- 
 tous ; " he fell off the seat backward, by the side of the gate, 
 and his neck brake, and he died." 
 
 i Mr. Burke, in one of his speeches, which, although it was 
 
46 ELOCUTION. 
 
 made under a monarchical government, breathes Jche noble 
 sentiments of liberty, says : " Such is the state of America, 
 that, after wading up to your eyes in blood, you could only 
 just end where you began ; that is, to tax where no revenue 
 is to be found, to My voice fails me ; my incli- 
 nation, indeed, carries me no farther ; all is confusion be- 
 yond it.' J 
 
 Norman Leslie, in the work which bears his name, on part- 
 ing with his friends, exclaims : " Thank God ! it is done : 
 The bond is severed— the darkness, the bitterness of death is 
 passed. It is -this, dear Albert, that I most feared — not death 
 itself, but these scenes of frightful grief and harrowing affec- 
 tion. But we, too, must part. I must meet my fate alone — 
 without a friend — without a hope — to the bar — to the sen- 
 tence — to frhe scaf ." 
 
 The Earl of Chatham said, during the revolutionary war : 
 " If I were an American, I would not lay down my arms j 
 never, never, NEVER !" 
 
 The 5th, 6th and 7th verses of the first chapter, in the 
 Second Epistle of St. Peter, furnish a good example of Climax. 
 
 Several excellent specimens of climax occur in the pieces 
 contained in this Treatise on Elocution, particularly in Lord 
 Byron's description of the Night before the Battle of Water- 
 loo, Othello's apology for his marriage, and Patrick Henry's 
 speech. 
 
 GESTURE, OR RHETORICAL ACTION. 
 
 Elocution being but another word for delivery, includes 
 gesture, or rhetorical action. The ancient Greeks and Ro- 
 mans attached great importance to gesture ; and, if they did 
 not appreciate it too highly, the moderns certainly undervalue 
 it. Gluintilian says, that " it is not of so much moment what 
 our compositions are, as how they are pronounced ; since it is 
 the manner of the delivery, by which the audience is moved." 
 Cicero, Aristotle, Pericles, Demosthenes, and other renowned 
 writers and orators of ancient times, were of the same opinion. 
 The rhetoricians taught their pupils, as well graceful gestures, 
 as how to manage their voices. 
 
 Whether voice, or gesture has the greater influence, is a 
 

 ELOCUTION. 47 
 
 1« question, about which they were divided in opinion. It is re- 
 i corded in history, that Roscius acquired such wonderful skill, 
 
 ■ as to be able to express sentences or sentiments, " as many dif- 
 « ferent ways by his gestures, as Cicero could by his voice. 5 ' It 
 • is not, therefore, a matter of surprise, that the intelligent 
 &i' Greeks and sage Romans should have entertained conflicting 
 
 opinions upon the relative or comparative influence of voice 
 
 ■ and gesture. Natural, animated, and graceful gestures are as 
 -necessary and effective now, as they were at any former 
 ^period of the world. The important precept, "be graceful 
 
 in your gestures," is not limited in its application, to one age 
 or one country. It commends itself to the good sense of all 
 men, especially readers and public speakers. 
 
 He whose gestures spontaneously conform to his subject, 
 and who, in other respects, is truly eloquent, can, in the most 
 effectual manner, make himself a master of other men's minds. 
 
 Such an orator has power 
 
 ■ 
 
 " To stir a fever in the blood of age, 
 And make an infant's sinews 
 
 Strong as steel." 
 
 The sight is the most delightful, if not the most perfect, of 
 • all our senses. Gesture, therefore, addresses itself with great 
 ' power to the eye. Reading or speaking, in order to be high- 
 ly interesting, must be accompanied by proper gestures. Such 
 were the vehemence of action and gracefulness of gesture, 
 with which Demosthenes spoke, that his antagonist, iEschines, 
 whom he had banished from Athens, on reading over one of 
 the orations of Demosthenes, when at Rhodes, and seeing that 
 all who were present, admired it, could not forbear saying: 
 j " If the bare reading of it affects you so much, how much 
 more would you have wondered, had you heard it delivered by 
 Demosthenes himself" It was certainly the judicious action 
 and energetic delivery of the great Athenian orator, which ex- 
 torted from his rival and adversary, such remarkable and hon- 
 orable testimony. 
 
 We form some opinion of a speaker, either favorable or 
 unfavorable, from our first view of him. There is something 
 in the manner in which a speaker walks into a house, or a 
 pulpit, and takes his seat, and rise's to address an assembly, 
 which prejudices us, either in his favor or against him. The 
 moment an accomplished fencer makes a thrust, we perceive 
 
48 ELOCUTION. 
 
 that he well understands the sword exercise. If the address 
 of a speaker be good ; if, moreover, his countenance and gene- 
 ral appearance be indicative of scholarship and intelligence, 
 the presentation itself is a burst of eloquence. 
 
 To point out all the faults of which speakers and readers 
 are guilty, would swell this work beyond the limits within 
 which the author must be confined. If a person commences 
 speaking immediately upon presenting himself before an audi- 
 ence, without first casting his eyes around respectfully on the 
 members of it, — if his appearance and deportment are awk- 
 ward, — if he puts his hands into his pockets, plays with his 
 watch-chain, and looks with great attention on a little piece 
 of paper, — -if he assumes an unmanly posture, — if he make his 
 oratory itinerating, by travelling alternately to the right and 
 then the left, — if his eyes are fixed on one object, or are down- 
 cast, or partly closed, — if he tastes of a glass of water, and spits 
 a few times, — if, in his gestures, he " saws the air," — if all 
 this, or any considerable part of it, be true of him, he may rest 
 assured, that such faults, although they may be comparatively 
 *£ unimportant, will, nevertheless, create the belief with his 
 hearers, that he is poorly qualified, either to instruct or amuse 
 them, and also, that his habits are much " more honored in 
 the breach, than in the observance." 
 
 It is, undoubtedly, less difficult to speak negatively on the 
 subject of gestures, than affirmatively; but there are certain 
 general rules, from which an orator should seldom, if ever, 
 depart. He should never begin a discourse immediately on 
 presenting himself before an audience. His eyes should first 
 be cast upon the members of it, with an air of respect. He 
 should assume a dignified posture, and stand as firmly as a 
 rock, and yet as gracefully as a Chesterfield. His head must 
 not be thrown back nor forward. His shoulders should nei- 
 ther be elevated nor drawn down. The right hand should be 
 more frequently used than the left. Gestures should be made 
 both from the elbow, and from the shoulder. They should 
 not be made with the fingers, but with the palm of the hand 
 open. When the speaker points towards an object or a per- 
 son, on the left of him, the left hand only should be used. 
 The motion of both hands together, is often demanded by the 
 sentiments or emotions of the orator. 
 
 Thoughts should be indicated by the countenance, and es- 
 pecially by the eye, before they are heard in words. Gesticu- 
 
ELOCUTION. 49 
 
 lation should certainly precede or be used during the utterance 
 of the words, it is intended to enforce. It should never be 
 used subsequently to their utterance. And, as Shakspeare says, 
 I all should be done gentlyP 
 
 No speakers, except the practitioners of the histrionic art, 
 should often close their hands or double up their fists. An 
 
 : incident is said to have occurred in the days of King James 
 IT. of England, which shows the ungracefulness of such a 
 gesture. A clergyman, eminent for his talents and piety, who 
 was honored with the attendance of the king, with the view 
 
 r of impressing upon the king's mind an important truth, fixed 
 
 1 his attention upon him, and, doubling up his fist, struck upon 
 
 ; the desk with great force, and exclaimed : " There ! who dares 
 
 \ to deny that V " No one,' 7 said King James, in a low voice, 
 
 1 " that stands in reach of your fist." 
 
 A speaker should not stand perfectly erect, only when he is 
 
 \ expressing courage, fortitude, firmness of purpose, &c. The 
 posture of the body generally, should be a little inclined to- 
 
 * wards the audience. When he commences or finishes a 
 discourse, both his arms should hang, as they naturally do, 
 
 \ by the side. When gestures are made, in the course of a 
 sermon or speech, by movements of the arm, the elbow ought 
 to be kept at a distance from the body. 
 
 We learn how great the influence of gesture is, from the 
 
 : actor's art. Cicero justly observes, " that few can resist the 
 effects, even of the moderate skill exhibited on the stage." The 
 effects produced by the accomplished and unequalled Garrick, 
 were wonderful. The bishop of London inquired of him, how 
 he could interest his hearers so much by mere fiction, as to 
 affect them, even unto tears, when " I cannot," continued the 
 bishop, " produce such effects upon my audience, with the 
 most solemn realities of religion." The shrewd and philo- 
 sophic reply of Garrick was: "I represent fiction as though it- 
 were reality ; and you, reality as though it were fiction." 
 
 Those automatical gestures which are too often taught, and 
 that mechanical formality and intolerable affectation, w r hich are 
 sometimes countenanced in literary institutions, should be en- 
 tirely and forever set aside. Excess in gestures, is to be avoid- 
 ed, as well as awkward ones. It is much better to have too 
 little, than too much rhetorical action. The observations on 
 gesticulation, will be concluded with an extract from Dr. 
 Blair, who, in one of his lectures on Delivery, says : " To 
 5 
 
50 ELOCUTION. 
 
 superficial thinkers, the management of the voice and gesture, 
 in public speaking, may appear to relate to decoration only, 
 and to be one of the inferior arts of catching an audience. 
 But this is far from being the case. It is intimately connected 
 with what is, or ought be, the end of all public speaking, per- 
 suasion ; and, therefore, deserves the study of the most grave 
 and serious speakers, as much as of those whose only aim it 
 is to please." 
 
 REMARKS ON THE INFLECTIONS OF THE 
 VOICE, WITH EXAMPLES. 
 
 Good Elocution is, in a great measure, a matter of taste. 
 It depends chiefly upon the developement of the intellectual 
 faculties, and the sensibilities of our nature ; and, consequently, 
 no precise rules can be applied to the modifications which the 
 voice undergoes, in reading, conversation, or public speaking. 
 
 Correct inflections are essential requisites to a finished rhe- 
 torical delivery ; but the best means of acquiring it, is, to im- 
 prove the voice, the taste, and the gestures. 
 
 If the attention be fixed upon the sentiments and the sense; na- 
 ture, or habit, will spontaneously suggest the proper inflections. 
 
 Some writers make a distinction between the eloquence of 
 the pulpit, the eloquence of the bar, and the eloquence of popu- 
 lar assemblies. There is, nevertheless, but one kind of elo- 
 quence. It is the same thing in the social circle, in those 
 departments of public life, and every where else. 
 
 To " suit the action to the word, and the word to the action," 
 is eloquence under all circumstances. By how much we de- 
 part from this precept, by so much our elocution is defective. 
 It is certain, that " nothing can gain entrance into the affec- 
 tions which stumbles at the threshold, by offending" either the 
 eye or the " ear." 
 
 What are we to do, in order to exemplify that great elocu- 
 tionary precept of Shakspeare ? Simply to represent, by empha- 
 sis, or quantity, conjointly with action, those words and parts 
 of sentences which are the most important in sense, in the 
 strongest manner. And how is this to be done ? Not by arbi- 
 trary rules, nor by persons destitute of taste or natural capacity. 
 The qualifications of the orator are not entirely original, they 
 are partly acquired. A complete orator never existed, with- 
 
ELOCUTION. 51 
 
 out possessing both genius and learning. It is difficult to de- 
 termine whether eloquence owes most to nature or cultivation ; 
 11 nor is the inquiry of much practical interest, since neither of 
 these, separated from the other, can produce an eloquent orator." 
 
 Labor is the price to be paid, to attain excellence in oratory, 
 even by those who possess peculiar and extraordinary natural 
 qualifications. Eloquence is nature, ascertained and exem- 
 plified by the aid of good mental endowments, and the graces 
 of a polished elocution. The object of art is, to ascertain and 
 display the powers of nature ; and, meanwhile, disguise the 
 means by w T hich it is done. The principle is, " Ars est celare 
 artem," art is to conceal art Eloquence consists in concealing" 
 the art by w r hich we exhibit the free, full, and powerful ma- 
 chinery of nature. 
 
 If the voice is in a cultivated condition, and good sense be 
 exercised, no effort to modify it is necessary. Emotion,or pas- 
 sion, attunes the voice, better than particular rules. 
 
 Demosthenes appeared not as one who wished to be admired 
 as an elegant writer, or an eloquent speaker, but as u a pas- 
 sionate man tormented by truth." He was governed by no 
 " key of rhetorical notation," nor by any marks of inflection. 
 When he spoke so powerfully against Philip, that his hearers 
 imagined they heard the rattling chains of the usurper, he 
 doubtless broke through all the false rules with which some 
 books on elocution are lumbered. 
 
 This is equally true of Cicero, when he vehemently ex- 
 claimed in the senate of Rome : " How long, O Cataline ! 
 wilt thou abuse our patience ?" and when he spoke of the 
 battle of Pharsalia, so eloquently that Julius Caesar turned pale. 
 
 Of Patrick Henry, when he said in Virginia, in 1765, with 
 the most expressive look, and in a voice so powerful that jt 
 seemed to shake the house in which he spoke : " Caesar had 
 his Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the 
 Third — [treason, treason, cried the members of the house of 
 burgesses] — may profit by their example" And when, in 1798, 
 in reply to a preacher, who observed to an admiring crowd, 
 " Mr. Henry is not a God," he said, "No, indeed," deeply af- 
 fected both by the scene and the remark, " no, indeed, my 
 friend ; I am but a poor worm of the dust — as fleeting and 
 unsubstantial as the shadow of the cloud that flies over your 
 fields, and is remembered no more." 
 
 Of Whitefield, when by the transcendent power of his. elo- 
 quence, he compelled Dr. Franklin, against his pre-determin*- 
 
52 ELOCUTION. 
 
 tion and judgment, to contribute to the Orphan House of 
 Georgia; and also when he said : " Look yonder I" stretching 
 out his hand and pointing while he spoke, " what is that I see % 
 It is my agonized Lord! Hark! hark! Do you not hear? 
 O my Father, if it be possible let this cup pass from me ; 
 nevertheless, not my will but thine, O God, be done." 
 
 Of the blind and solitary beggar of Jericho, when groping 
 his way to the road side where our Savior was to pass, he 
 heard in the voices of the multitude, the sound of his coming, 
 and shouted, almost with agony: "Jesus! thou son of David, 
 have mercy on me I" 
 
 Of the Great Physician himself, when, hearing the tone of 
 distress, he kindly inquired, "What wilt thou have me to do?" 
 And, again, of the blind man, when he sprang forward, threw 
 himself at the feet of Christ, and in a voice choked with 
 emotion, and trembling with earnestness, he answered, " Lord 
 grant that I may receive my sight !" 
 
 Of David, when he lamented the loss of Saul and Jonathan, 
 thus : " The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places. 
 How are the mighty fallen ! I am distressed for thee, my 
 brother Jonathan :" and when he mourned over the death of 
 Absalom, and said, in the deep anguish of his soul : " O my 
 son Absalom ! my son, my son Absalom ! would God I had 
 died for thee ! O Absalom, my son, my son." 
 
 Of St. Paul, when his peerless eloquence made Felix, the Ro- 
 man governor, tremble, and extorted from King Agrippa the ac- 
 knowledgment, u Almost thou persuadest me to be a christian." 
 
 Of Daniel Webster, when speaking, in 1830, on Foote 7 s land 
 resolution, in the senate of the United States, he said : " When 
 the mariner has been tossed for many days in thick weather and 
 on an unknown sea, he naturally avails himself of the first pause 
 in the storm, the earliest glance of the sun, to take his latitude, 
 and ascertain how far the elements have driven him from his 
 true course. Let us imitate this prudence, and before we float 
 farther on the waves of debate, refer to the point from which 
 we departed, that we may at least be able to form some con- 
 jecture where we now are." 
 
 The names of many others might be added to this bril- 
 liant list, whose elocution has not been artificial, but 
 
 u the God-like power 
 
 Of moulding, wielding, fettering, banding 
 The mind of millions, till they move like one ;" 
 
ELOCUTION. 53 
 
 and the thrilling, melting tones of whose voices came so melo- 
 diously, that 
 
 " Certain stars shot madly from their spheres 
 To hear the undying music." 
 
 Books in which " a key of rhetorical notation," or " marks 
 of inflection," are attached to the pieces, leave the pupil no 
 opportunity to exercise his own good sense ; and necessarily 
 make him a mere automaton. 
 
 Walker, in his " Rhetorical Grammar," calls the inflections 
 rising, falling, and circumflex ; and other writers are chiefly 
 indebted to him, for rules on the subject. He, however, re- 
 cognized the difficulty if not the inexpediency, of attempting 
 to reduce the doctrine of inflections to a system. The rising 
 and falling inflections, to some extent, define themselves; the 
 former ends higher than it begins ; the latter turns the voice 
 downward. The circumflex unites the two inflections, by be- 
 ginning with the falling and ending with the rising slide, or 
 by commencing with the rising and ending with the falling 
 inflection. The monotone, which consists of sameness of sound, 
 is another absolute modification of the voice. The rising in- 
 flection is marked thus ( / ) ; the falling thus ( \ ) j the circum- 
 flex thus ( a ) ; the monotone thus ( — ). 
 
 Let us consider the upward and downward slides of the 
 voice to range one tone in music. It is an easy matter to give 
 the inflections. 
 
 EXAMPLES. 
 
 Did you say one or two ? 
 
 Must my voice rise or fall ? 
 
 " Betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss ?" 
 
 Judas betrayed him in that manner. 
 
 Did you say she shells ? 
 
 No, I said sea shells. 
 
 He said six slim, slick saplings ; not six slim, sick slaplings. 
 
 " The child is father of the man." 
 
 " To be, or not to be ; that is the question." 
 
 "Died Abner as a fool dieth?" If the falling inflection 
 be given thus : Died Abner as a fool dieth, it implies that 
 Abner, in the opinion of King David, died as a fool dieth. 
 
 " He sees his fellow guilty of a skin, not colored like his 
 own." The falling inflection thus : He sees his fellow guilty 
 of a skin, conveys the idea that it is a crime to have a skin. 
 5* 
 
54 ELOCUTION. 
 
 " The curfew tolls j the knell of parting day." The rising in- 
 flection thus : The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, 
 would convey the idea that it is the curfew which tolls the 
 knell of parting day. 
 
 '? No man lighteth a candle and putteth it under a bushel." 
 The falling inflection thus : No man lighteth a candle, im- 
 plies either that nobody ever lights a candle, or that although 
 men do not light candles, women may. 
 
 If, when Hamlet says : 
 
 "To die 1 to sleep j 
 No more"— 
 
 Shakspeare intends to convey the solemn idea, through the 
 Prince of Denmark, that we fall into that sleep which 
 knows no waking ; the inflections should be given as indi- 
 cated. If, on the other hand, those phrases imply that to die 
 is merely to sleep — that is all — then, 
 rising, instead of a circumflex inflection. 
 
 " We mutually pledge to each other, our lives, our fortunes, 
 and our sacred honor." 
 
 " Life is a torrid day, parched by the wind and sun, 
 And death the calm cool night, 
 When the weary day is done." 
 
 " Aye but to die and go, we know not where, 
 To lie in cold obstruction and to rot." 
 
 We sit lonely and weep. 
 
 " The grave opens to receive me, and I sink into its bosom." 
 
 " Let the tomb open to Osslan. The sons of the song are gone to rest, 
 My voice remains like a blast that roars lonely on a sea surrounded rock. 
 The dark moss whistles there." 
 
 " Roll on, thou dark, deep, blue ocean." 
 
 " Read this declaration at the head of the army. Send it 
 to the public halls ; proclaim it there." 
 
 " In the spring time, your fields shall grow green, but they 
 shall not gladden your eye ; your flocks shall sport thereon, 
 but it shall bring no delight to you ; the brier and the thorn 
 shall flourish around your hedge, because your hand is not 
 there to prune ; your children shall prattle around the lonely 
 fire-side, but it shall bring no joy to your bosom ; the sun shall 
 rise in its wonted splendor, and go down with all its gor- 
 geous beauty, but the cold walls of a prison shall bound your 
 vision, confine your hopes, and prolong your woes." 
 
SELECT PIECES 
 
 FOR 
 
 EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION. 
 
 1. Elocution. — Dr, Channing. 
 
 1. A people should be guarded against temptation to un- 
 lawful pleasures, by furnishing the means of innocent ones. 
 There is an amusement, having an affinity with the drama, 
 which might be usefully introduced among us — I mean elo- 
 cution. A work of genius, recited by a man of fine taste, 
 enthusiasm, and good elocution, is a very pure and high grati- 
 fication. 
 
 2. Were this art cultivated and encouraged, great numbers, 
 now insensible to the most beautiful compositions, might be 
 waked up to their excellence and power. It is not easy to 
 conceive of a more effectual way of spreading a refined taste 
 through a community. The drama undoubtedly appeals more 
 strongly to the passions than recitation, but the latter brings 
 out the meaning of the author more. 
 
 3. Shakspeare, well recited, would be better understood 
 than on the stage. Then, in recitation, we escape the weari- 
 ness of listening to poor performers, who, after all, fill up most 
 of the time at the theatre. Recitation, sufficiently varied, so 
 as to include pieces of chaste wit, as well as of pathos, beauty 
 and sublimity, is adapted to our present intellectual progress, 
 as much as the drama falls below it. 
 
 4. Should this exhibition be introduced among us success- 
 
56 SELECT PIECES 
 
 fully, the result would be, that the power of recitation would 
 be extensively called forth, and this would be added to our 
 social and domestic pleasures. 
 
 The above extract is from a discourse, delivered before the Massachu- 
 setts Temperance Society, in the year 1836, by the Rev. William E. Chan- 
 ning, of Boston. It shows clearly that Elocution is calculated to elevate 
 the standard of morality. It, moreover, sets forth, most happily, its supe- 
 riority over the drama. Dr. Channing was born at Newport, in Rhode 
 Island, on the seventh day of April, 1780, and he died at Bennington, Ver- 
 mont, October 2d, 1842. As a literary and philosophical essayist, he ranks 
 high abroad, as well as at home. His name has been rendered familiar in 
 foreign countries, by his articles on Fenelon, Milton, and Napoleon. 
 England has, at length, unequivocally acknowledged the capability of 
 America of producing native writers of the first order. When Spurzheim, 
 the celebrated phrenologist, was asked, what prompted him to leave Europe 
 and visit the United States, he replied : " Shall I not see Dr. Channing V 
 It has been too much the custom in the mother country, to undervalue 
 their transatlantic rivals. She is justly proud of Fox, Pitt, Sheridan, and 
 Brougham. America, too, has produced men of surpassing intellect. The 
 writings of Jefferson, Hamilton, Franklin, Wirt, Channing, Daniel Web- 
 ster, John Gtuincy Adams, J. C. Calhoun, Gerrit Smith, and Washington 
 Irving, are not inferior to the best productions of those great men. 
 
 The first ten pieces in this ts Elocution," like all others which are not of 
 an unusually solemn nature ; or, of a rhetorical character, require a collo- 
 quial manner of reading. 
 
 2. Elocution of Ladies. — Mrs. Sigourney. 
 
 1. Reading aloud, with propriety and grace, is an accom- 
 plishment worthy of the acquisition of females. To enter into 
 the spirit of an author, and convey his sentiments with a hap- 
 py adaptation of tone, emphasis, and manner, is no common 
 attainment. It is peculiarly valuable in our sex, because it so 
 often gives them an opportunity of imparting pleasure and 
 improvement to an assembled family, during the winter even- 
 ing, or the protracted storm. In the zeal for feminine accom- 
 plishments, it would seem that the graces of elocution had 
 been too little regarded. 
 
 2. Permit me to fortify my opinion, by the authority of the 
 Rev. Mr. Gallaudet. " I cannot understand why it should be 
 thought, as it sometimes is, a departure from female delicacy, 
 to read in a promiscuous, social circle, if called upon to do so, 
 from any peculiar circumstance, and to read too, as well as 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 57 
 
 Garrick himself, if the young lady possesses the power of 
 doing it. 
 
 3. " Why may she not do this, with as much genuine mod- 
 esty, and with as much of a desire to oblige her friends, and 
 with as little of ostentation, as to sit down in the same circle, 
 to the piano, and play and sing in the style of the first mas- 
 ters? If, to do the former, is making too much of a display 
 of her talents, why should not the latter be so ? Nothing but 
 some strange freak of fashion, can have made a difference." 
 
 4. Fine reading is an accomplishment, where the inherent 
 music, both of the voice and of the intellect, may be uttered ; 
 for the scope and compass of each, is often fully taxed, and 
 happily developed, in the interpretation of delicate shades of 
 meaning, and gradations of thought. Its first element, to be 
 clearly understood, is often too much disregarded, so that, with 
 some who are pronounced fashionable readers, low, or artificial 
 intonations so perplex the listener, as to leave it doubtful 
 whether " the uncertain sound was piped or harped." 
 
 As elocution includes conversation and reading, as well as public speak- 
 ing, it is a matter of nearly as much interest to ladies, as to gentlemen. 
 A large portion of tlie time of ladies, is employed in conversation and read- 
 ing. To read and converse well, is, therefore, a very desirable attainment. 
 The above extract from Mrs. Sigourney's excellent " Letters to Young 
 Ladies," is commended to their perusal, in the hope that they will be in- 
 duced to acquire a pure, polished, and graceful elocution. 
 
 3. Elocution, — its Effects upon Health. — Dr. A. Combe. 
 
 1. Reading aloud and recitation are more useful and invig- 
 orating muscular exercises, than is generally imagined. In 
 forming and undulating the voice, the chest and the diaphragm 
 are in constant action, and communicate to the stomach a 
 healthy and agreeable stimulus ; and, consequently, where 
 the voice is raised and elocution rapid, as in many kinds of 
 public speaking, the muscular effort is more fatiguing than 
 the mental, especially to those who are unaccustomed to it. 
 
 2. When care is taken, however, not to carry reading aloud 
 or reciting so far at one time, as to excite the least sensation 
 of soreness or fatigue in the chest, and it is duly repeated, it is 
 extremely useful in developing and giving tone to the organs 
 
58 SELECT PIECES 
 
 of respiration, and to the general system. As exercises in 
 reading- aloud, public speaking-, and lecturing, require some 
 exertion, they ought to be indulged in with prudence, and 
 constant reference to the constitution and health of the indi- 
 vidual. 
 
 3. When early resorted to, and steadily persevered in. they 
 are instrumental in warding off disease, and communicating 
 strength to an important function. But when begun sud- 
 denly, and carried to excess by persons with weak lungs, they 
 are more directly injurious than almost any other cause. It 
 is not uncommon for young divines to give themselves up to 
 preaching, without any previous preparation for the effort 
 which it requires ; and to experience, in consequence, pains 
 in the chest, spitting of blood, and other dangerous forms of 
 disease, which often extinguish their brightest prospects in the 
 morning of life. 
 
 4. Sacrifices of this kind, are the more to be lamented, be- 
 cause it is probable, that, by a well planned system of gradual 
 preparation, many who fall victims, might find in their pro- 
 fession, even a source of safety. The celebrated and lamented 
 Cuvier is considered to have been saved from an early death, 
 by engaging in the moderate and regular exercise of his lungs 
 in lecturing. Other examples of the same kind, might be 
 mentioned. 
 
 5. But it is important to observe, that in all of them, the 
 exercise was, at all times, accurately proportioned to the exist- 
 ing state of the lungs. Had active disease existed, or the ex- 
 ertion required, been beyond what the lungs were fully able 
 to bear, the effect would have been, not to improve health, but 
 to destroy life ; and this condition of accurate relation between 
 the amount of exercise and the state of the organization, must 
 never, for a moment, be overlooked. 
 
 6. With a little care, however, the point at which direct 
 exercise of the lungs ought to stop, may easily be determined, 
 by observing its effects. The loud and distinct speaking, en- 
 forced in many public schools, is productive of much good to 
 the young. 
 
 7. Let any one who doubts its efficacy as an exercise of the 
 lungs, attend to what passes in his own body on reading aloud 
 a single paragraph, and he will find, not only that deep in- 
 spirations and full expirations are encouraged ; but that a con- 
 siderable impulse is communicated to the bowels, affording a 
 
*'0R EXERCISES. 59 
 
 marked contrast to the slight breathing, and quiescent posture 
 of those whose voices never rise above a whisper. 
 
 The above article, from Dr. Combe, is worthy of attention. That we all 
 ought to be careful of our health, is too plain to require argument. Our 
 duty and happiness alike prompt us to preserve it. Some of the ancients 
 used to employ physicians to prevent their becoming sick. If we are tem- 
 perate and prudent, and occasionally engage in invigorating exercises, we 
 . shall seldom need medical aid. The beneficial effects of vocal gymnastics, 
 .judiciously conducted, are not yet fully appreciated ; but there is a proba- 
 bility that elocutionary exercises will, ere long, form a part of every liberal 
 course of instruction in all our literary institutions, including certainly 
 common schools. 
 
 A knowledge of Phonology is no less essential to ladies, than to gentle- 
 men. The earlier in life both sexes become familiar with its principles, 
 the better. 
 
 4. The Voice. — Journal of Health. 
 
 1. The preservation of the voice, and the means of impro- 
 ving its tone and compass, are subjects of no little interest, 
 
 ^especially to the public speaker. Even though it be exerted 
 only in ordinary conversation, in reading aloud, or in singing — 
 whether as a part of religious worship or in the social circle ; 
 
 • a full, clear, and pleasing voice, must be considered as no 
 mean accomplishment. 
 
 2. The first and most important rule for the preservation of 
 the voice, supported equally by ancient authorities and modern 
 experience, is, that the public speaker should, if he "strive for 
 the mastery," be habitually temperate in all things, moderate in 
 the indulgence of the table, and not given to any personal 
 excess. 
 
 3. The voice should not be exerted after a full meal. It 
 should never be urged beyond its strength, nor strained to its 
 utmost pitch, without intermission. Frequent change of pitch 
 is the best preservative. The voice, when hoarse, should not 
 be exerted, if it can possibly be avoided. 
 
 4. To speak well with any thing in the mouth, is scarcely 
 possible. Few things are so injurious to the voice as tobacco. 
 By the use of it, the voice becomes dry, and is rendered harsh 
 and broken. Snuffing is even more objectionable than chew- 
 ing ; by causing the breathing to be carried on solely through 
 
60 SELECT PIECES 
 
 the mouth, the use of snuff produces very nearly the same 
 change in the tone of the voice, as occurs in an individual 
 laboring under a cold. 
 
 5. The voice, as well as the health of a speaker, suffers ma- 
 terially, unless the chest is allowed to expand freely. Hence, 
 all compression or restraint should be carefully removed from 
 this portion of the body ; for the same reason, an erect position 
 should be assumed, as well in speaking and reading aloud, as 
 in singing. 
 
 6. The tone of the voice is also considerably impaired and 
 its strength diminished, by a tightly drawn or large cravat. 
 The neck should, therefore, be free from compression, and but 
 lightly covered. The great means of improving the voice, as 
 well as all other improvements, is constant and daily practice. 
 
 7. The ancients were in the daily practice of preparatory 
 declamation. Their rule was, after proper bodily exercise, to 
 begin at the lowest tones of their voice, and proceed gradually 
 to the highest. They are said to have produced about five 
 hundred lines in this manner, which were committed to memo- 
 ry, in order that the exertions of the voice might be less 
 embarrassed. 
 
 8. In order to strengthen the voice, Mr. Sheridan advises 
 that such persons as have weak utterance, should daily practise 
 to read and repeat in a large room, in the hearing of a friend. 
 The latter should be placed at the farthest point at which he 
 can hear distinctly, without the voice of the speaker being 
 strained. There he should remain during his declamation. 
 
 9. It will be found, perhaps, that the same practice will be 
 more easily and effectually pursued in the open air, particu- 
 larly as every speaker cannot conveniently obtain the use of a 
 room of the requisite dimensions. 
 
 The ideas promulgated in the ahove article from the " Journal of Health," 
 published at Philadelphia, are perfectly correct. Health is certainly pro- 
 moted, and the powers of the voice greatly developed, by reading, con- 
 versing, reciting, or giving the elements, aloud. It is equally true, that all 
 stimulating drinks and things are prejudicial to health, and particularly so, 
 to the voice. Especially, do ardent spirits, wine, tobacco, and snuff, injure 
 the voice, as well as the general health. The consumption, to which so 
 many fall victims among us, may, in some instances, be avoided by rheto- 
 rical and gymnastic exercises. The Latin writers put it upon that ground 
 Seneca advises his friend Lucilius, who was of a consumptive habit, t<? 
 engage in reading and declamation. Such exercises strengthen the chest 
 and fortify the lungs against disease. The learned Armstrong says: 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 61 
 
 " Read aloud resounding, Homer's strains, 
 And wield the thunder of Demosthenes : — 
 The chest so exercised, improves in strength, 
 And quick vibrations, through the system drive 
 The restless blood." 
 
 6. Demosthenes.— -Charles Rollin. 
 
 1. Demosthenes had a weak voice, a thick way of speaking, 
 and a very short breath, in consequence of which, he was often 
 obliged to stop in the midst of his sentences for respiration. 
 This occasioned his being hissed by the whole audience. As 
 he withdrew, hanging down his head, and in the utmost con- 
 fusion, Satyrus, one of the most excellent actors of those times, 
 who was his friend, met him ; and having learned from him- 
 self the cause of his being so much dejected, he assured him 
 that the evil was not without remedy, and that the case was 
 not so desperate as he imagined. 
 
 2. He desired him to repeat some of the verses of Sophocles 
 or Euripides to him, which he accordingly did. Satyrus 
 spoke them after him, and gave them such a tone, gesture 5 
 and spirit, that Demosthenes himself found them to be quite 
 different from what they were in his own manner of speaking. 
 He perceived plainly what he wanted, and applied himself to 
 acquiring it. 
 
 3. His efforts to correct his natural defect of utterance, and 
 to perfect himself in pronunciation, of which his friend had 
 made him understand the value, seem almost incredible ; and 
 prove that an industrious perseverance can surmount all things. 
 He stammered to such a degree, that he could not pronounce 
 some letters ; among others, the letter R, with which the art 
 he studied begins ; and he was so short-breathed, that he could 
 not utter a whole period without stopping. 
 
 4. He overcame these obstacles at length, by putting pebble- 
 stones into his mouth, and pronouncing several verses in that 
 manner without interruption, and by walking and going up 
 steep and difficult places ; so that at last, no letter made him 
 hesitate, and his breath held out through the longest periods. 
 He went also to the sea shore ; and, while the waves were 
 in the most violent agitation, he pronounced harangues, to ac- 
 
 6 
 
62 SELECT PIECES 
 
 custom himself, by the confused noise of the waters, to the roar 
 of the people, and the tumultuous cries of public assemblies. 
 
 5. Demosthenes took no less care of his action than his 
 voice. He had a large looking-glass in his house, which 
 served to teach him gesture, and at which he used to declaim, 
 before he spoke in public. To correct an ill habit which he 
 had contracted, of shrugging up his shoulders, he practised 
 standing upright in a very narrow pulpit, over which hung a 
 sword, in such a manner, that if, in the heat of the action, that 
 motion escaped him, the point of the weapon might serve at 
 the same time, to admonish and correct him. 
 
 6. His application to studies was no less surprising. To be 
 the more removed from noise, and less subject to distraction, 
 he caused a small room to be made for him under ground, in 
 which he shut himself up, sometimes for whole months, 
 shaving on purpose half his head and face, that he might not 
 be in a condition to go abroad. It was there, by the help of a 
 small lamp, he composed his admirable orations, which were 
 said by those who envied him, to smell of the oil, to imply 
 they were too elaborate. 
 
 7. His pains were well bestowed ; for it was by these 
 means, that he carried the art of declaiming to the highest de- 
 gree of perfection of which it was capable ; whence it is plain, 
 he well knew its value and importance. When he was asked 
 three several times, which quality he thought most necessary 
 in an orator, he answered each time, " Pronunciation \ n 
 
 8. By making the reply three times successively, he insin- 
 uated, that pronunciation is the only qualification, of which 
 the want could least be concealed, and which is the most 
 capable of concealing other defects ; and, that that alone could 
 give considerable weight, even to an indifferent orator, when 
 without it, the most excellent could not hope for the least suc- 
 cess. As to Demosthenes, Cicero tells us that his success was 
 so great, that all Greece came in crowds to Athens to hear 
 him speak ; and he adds, that merit so great as his, could not 
 but have the desired effect. 
 
 Demosthenes the famous Grecian orator was born at Athens, then the 
 rival of Rome, 381 years anterior to the Christian era. He was a pupil 
 of Plato ; and so great was the ardor and diligence with which he entered 
 on the study of elocution, under the tuition of that celebrated philosopher 
 and traveller, that almost in defiance of nature herself, we see him " drag 
 up drowned honor by the locks," by the power of that eloquence which 
 prompted his hearers to cry out as one man : " Let us march against Phil- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 63 
 
 ip — let us fight for our liberties — let its conquer or dieP When Demos- 
 thenes said that pronunciation or action is the first, second, and last quality 
 of an orator, he meant elocution. In his day, those words implied delivery. 
 Had he not included by these words, the voice, as well as gesture, he 
 would not have devoted years to its cultivation. Rather than fall into the 
 hands of Antipater. he took a dose of poison, and expired in his 60th year. 
 
 Professor Anthon, in his Classical Dictionary, which appeared subse- 
 quently to the publication of my first edition, containing the above note, 
 says of Demosthenes : — " His idea was this : a lifeless manner on the part 
 of a public speaker shows that his own feelings are not enlisted in the 
 cause which he is advocating, and it is idle for him, therefore, to seek to 
 make converts of others, when he has failed in making one of himself. On 
 the other hand, when the tone of voice, the gesture, the look, the whole 
 manner of the orator, display the powerful feelings that agitate him, his 
 emotion is communicated to his hearers, and success is inevitable. It was 
 not therefore mere ' action ' that Demosthenes required in an orator, an 
 error into which some have fallen, from a mistranslation of the Latin rheto- 
 rical term ' cuctioj as employed by Cicero in mentioning this incident, but it 
 was an attention to the whole manner of delivery, the look, the tone, the 
 every movement, as so many unerring indications of internal emotion, and 
 of the honesty and sincerity of the speaker." 
 
 Rollin, author of " Ancient History/*' was born at Paris, in 1661, and 
 died at the acre of 81. 
 
 7. Cicero. — N. Amer. Review. 
 
 1. In looking back to the great men of antiquity, we know 
 of no one to whom we feel more strongly attracted, or who 
 seems to be more closely connected with the present, than 
 Cicero. His works are more various, as well as extensive, 
 than those of any other ancient writer, and we feel that we 
 know him through these. 
 
 2. We are brought nearer to him than to any one of the 
 ancients. It seems as if we had actually listened to his voice 
 in the senate house or the forum, or conversed with him and 
 his friends in his beautiful Tusculan gardens, and gathered 
 from his own lips his deep and pure philosophy. 
 
 3. And, more than this, we are sensible of the power of his 
 mind, of its vast range through the past, present, and future. 
 We perceive his capacity for comprehending all the improve- 
 ments of society, and we feel that if he were brought to life, 
 at present, he would be as one of us. 
 
 4. We figure to ourselves the delight with which he would 
 view and understand the advances made since his time, the 
 intuitive readiness with which he would accommodate himself 
 
64 SELECT PIECES 
 
 to the laws of society ; the perfect gentleman he would appear, 
 though suddenly placed in a scene so new, so trying, so full 
 of wonders. 
 
 5. Cicero's name is identified with eloquence. His great 
 pursuit, the object to which his life was devoted, the passion 
 of his youth, the last and mightiest effort of his old age, was 
 eloquence. The idea of a perfect orator existed in his mind 
 almost from childhood, and was never lost from his view. He 
 looked to it as to a bright beacon advancing constantly before 
 him ; never, perhaps, fully reached ; but attracting him by its 
 brightness, and alluring him ever onward. 
 
 6. Cicero was a remarkable instance of a man who under- 
 stood himself. He knew his own character thoroughly ; he 
 understood wherein his greatest power consisted, and he used 
 every means to cultivate those faculties which he was aware 
 could alone ensure success. He very early in life, formed the 
 conception of that perfect character, which he says an orator 
 ought to be, — a man who has cultivated every power to the 
 highest degree, to whom the arts, the ornaments of life, nature 
 itself pays tribute ; whose mind is enriched by the knowledge 
 of all science, and the thoughts and imaginings of kindred 
 spirits in all ages ; and who gathers into himself the results of 
 genius of every period, country, and form. 
 
 7. Upon this model, Cicero formed his character. He was 
 aware that his powers were equal to the task. He knew that 
 he could comprehend all that man had known ; that his pow- 
 ers of acquiring and his industry were unsurpassed ; and still 
 more, he felt that knowledge in his mind would not be a dead 
 and useless weight, but that he had power to mould and trans- 
 form, to bring forth new and fairer forms, and to bequeath to 
 all futurity, high and worthy thoughts. 
 
 8. From his earliest years, therefore, he devoted himself to 
 literary pursuits. He made himself familiar, not only with 
 the rhetorician's art, but also with the whole science of Roman 
 jurisprudence — two branches which had always been consid- 
 ered as forming distinct professions. After gaining all the 
 knowledge to be found in Rome, he travelled to Greece; 
 he there perfected himself in the language of that country, 
 and became familiar with her rich philosophy and literature. 
 
 9. In Asia, he was surrounded by the most distinguished 
 philosophers and orators, with whom he daily conversed and 
 reasoned, and from whom, he probably obtained much of that 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 65 
 
 knowledge of ancient philosophy, which he displays in his 
 writings. His mind was stored with all human knowledge j 
 the beautiful poetry of Greece was familiar to him ; he had 
 walked in the groves of Academus, and the genius of the 
 place had penetrated his soul ; he had listened to the various 
 creeds of the schools, and had boldly formed his own opinions, 
 without suffering the shackles of other minds; and. he re- 
 turned to make all his acquirements contribute to one object, — 
 the profession of eloquence. 
 
 10. Of all the manifestations of human power, Cicero re- 
 garded that of the orator as the greatest, and as approaching 
 nearest to the divine nature. To this, he made all knowledge 
 and all talent subservient ; to this, poetry, philosophy, and his- 
 tory, were but the ministering attendants. We gather from 
 his own writings, his exalted opinion of the eloquent man. 
 
 11. "Let us trace the qualifications," says he, "of the ora- 
 tor, such as Mark Antony never saw, nor any other man 
 whom we can, perchance, describe, as he ought to be, though, 
 perhaps, we can neither imitate him, nor show any example of 
 such a man ; for these qualities are hardly granted to a god. 
 
 12. " The orator must possess the knowledge of many 
 sciences, without which, a mere flow of words is vain and 
 ridiculous ; his style of speaking must be formed, not only by a 
 choice of words, but by a skilful arrangement and construction 
 of sentences ; he must be deeply versed in every emotion which 
 nature has given to man ; for ail skill and power in speaking, 
 consist in soothing, or exciting the minds of the audience. 
 
 13. " In addition to this, he must possess a ready wit and 
 pleasantry, an amount of erudition such as is becoming to a 
 freeman, and a quickness of repartee, united with a refined 
 elegance and urbanity. He must be familiar with all anti- 
 quity, and be provided with a store of examples ; nor must he 
 neglect the science of laws and jurisprudence. 
 
 14. u What shall I say of action ? which depends upon the 
 motions of the body ; the gestures, the countenance, the tones, 
 and changes of the voice. The great importance of action 
 may be discovered from the actor's frivolous art ; for who is 
 ignorant how few are able to resist its effects ? And what 
 shall I say of the memory % that treasure of all learning, with- 
 out whose aid in preserving the knowledge we have acquired, 
 or the thoughts we have originated, all the most valuable 
 qualities of an orator would be lost. 
 
 6* 
 
56 SELECT PIECES 
 
 15. "Let us no longer wonder, then, that eloquence is so 
 rare, since it consists of so many accomplishments, each of 
 which, would seem to be the work of life in acquiring." 
 
 16. Such w r as Cicero's notion of the perfect orator, and such 
 he endeavored to render himself. He was undoubtedly cor- 
 rect in regarding eloquence, as the concentration of human 
 genius, the fullest development of all the powers, and the man- 
 ifestation of the highest qualities of our nature. 
 
 17. There is certainly no display of mortal power so impo- 
 sing as that of the great orator, at the moment of putting forth 
 his energies; when the highest mental faculties are called 
 into action, in concert with those physical powers which are so 
 noble, that the Greeks held them divine ; when the " thoughts 
 that breathe" and the "words that burn," are enforced by the 
 graceful and impressive gesture, the form that seems to tower 
 up and dilate, the beaming eye, the voice with its thousand 
 tones, embodying thought in the most resistless forms, and the 
 enraptured crowds are ready to cry out : " It is the voice of a 
 god and not of a man." 
 
 18. Gicero loved eloquence as an art ; he felt that his capa- 
 cities were peculiarly adapted to it; and, smitten with the 
 ideal that existed in his mind, he was urged by an irresistible 
 desire to give it expression. He bound himself for life to the 
 pursuit, and no change of circumstance, no danger, no distress, 
 could induce him to abandon it. The iron hand of the dicta- 
 tor could not crush the growing flower of Roman oratory. 
 
 19. The birth-place of art is in the soul ; it does not depend 
 upon rules ; it exists previously to all theories and sciences ; 
 it is a perfect idea, an image of beauty dwelling in the mind 
 in distinct and radiant traits, which we seek to clothe, in some 
 form that may be comprehended by the senses. 
 
 20. The ideal of eloquence existed in Cicero's mind above 
 all rules. It was with him something not acquired by rules, 
 but preexisting in his mind ; aided, but not formed by indus- 
 try ; giving birth to rhetoric, not receiving existence from it. 
 To but few individuals has the beautiful conception been 
 granted. 
 
 21. Cicero's style belongs peculiarly to himself. Language 
 with him becomes a new thing; it is perfectly transparent 
 and radiant with thought. It seems, when we are reading 
 his works, as if intellect itself had become visible before 
 
* FOR EXERCISES. 67 
 
 ( us. We feel sure at the first sentence Cicero utters, that he 
 will prevail. 
 
 22. The depth of pathos, passages of heart-rending emo- 
 tion, light and playful satire, blasting sarcasm, the deep tone 
 of indignation, gathering strength as it rolls on, and swelling 
 into bursts of thunder, and the furious storm of invective which 
 crush and overwhelm the criminal; all are found in these 
 wonderful remains of art 
 
 Cicero, to whom the above most admirable article relates, and whose name 
 1 is but another for eloquence itself, was born in the city of Arpinum. 107 
 years before Christ. He was the greatest man, whether we consider him as 
 an orator, a statesman, or a philosopher, that Rome ever produced. Being 
 proscribed by Mark Antony, for freedom of opinion, he was assassinated 
 at the age of 64. 
 
 8. Eloquence, — its True Nature. — D. Webster. 
 
 1. When public bodies are to be addressed on momentous 
 occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong pas- 
 sions excited, nothing is valuable in speech farther than it is 
 connected with high intellectual and moral endowments. 
 Clearness, force, and earnestness, are the qualities which pro- 
 duce conviction. 
 
 2. True eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It 
 cannot be brought from far. Labor and learning may toil for 
 it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be 
 marshalled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must 
 exist in the man, — in the subject, — and in the occasion. 
 
 3. Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of decla- 
 mation, all may aspire after it : they cannot reach it. It 
 comes, if it comes at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain 
 from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with 
 spontaneous, original, native force. 
 
 4. The graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments 
 and studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men, 
 when their own lives, and the fate of their wives, their chil- 
 dren, and their country, hang on the decision of the hour. 
 
 5. Then, words have lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and 
 all elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself feels 
 rebuked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. 
 Then, patriotism is eloquent ; then, self-devotion is eloquent. 
 
68 -SELECT PIECES # 
 
 6. The clear conception, outrunning- the deductions of logic, 
 the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speak- 
 ing on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing every 
 feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward to 
 his object — this, this is eloquence ; or rather, it is something 
 greater and higher than all eloquence — it is action — noble, 
 sublime, godlike action. 
 
 The above judicious observations on eloquence, are extracted from Daniel 
 Webster's discourse at Boston, on John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, 
 both of whom died in 1826, on the 4th of July ! In describing the charac- 
 teristics of genuine eloquence, he has unconsciously described his own. 
 He has, for many years, been a member of the senate of the United States 
 from Massachusetts, his adopted state. On the 4th of March, 1841, he 
 was appointed Secretary of State, by President Harrison. His features 
 are prominent, especially his forehead ; his eyes, which are overarched by 
 dark, heavy brows, are expressive and penetrating ; and his countenance 
 indicates that he possesses extraordinary intellectual powers. 
 
 9. Eloquence of the Pulpit. — Dr. Rush. 
 
 1. The eloquence of the pulpit is nearly allied to music, in 
 its effects upon the moral faculty. It is true, there can be no 
 permanent change in the temper and moral conduct .of a man, 
 that is not derived from the understanding and the will ; but 
 we must remember that these two powers of the mind are most 
 assailable, when they are attacked through the avenue of the 
 passions ; and these we know, when agitated by the powers 
 of eloquence, exert a mechanical action upon every power of 
 the soul. 
 
 2. Hence we find in every age and country where Chris- 
 tianity has been propagated, the most accomplished orators 
 have generally been the most successful reformers of mankind. 
 There must be a defect of eloquence in a preacher, who, with 
 the resources for oratory which are contained in the Old and 
 New Testaments, does not produce in every man who hears 
 him, at least, a temporary love of virtue. 
 
 ! -runt the eloquence of the pulpit alone cannot change 
 men into Christians; but it certainly possesses the power of 
 changing brutes into men Could the eloquence of the stage 
 be property directed, it is impossible to conceive the extent of 
 its mechanical effects upon morals. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 69 
 
 4. The language and imagery of Shc.kspeare upon moral 
 and religious subjects, poured upon the passions and the senses, 
 in all the beauty and variety of dramatic representation ; who 
 could resist or describe their effects ? 
 
 Dr. Benjamin Rush, author of the above remarks, was born near Phila- 
 delphia, in 1745, and died in the year 18 1 3. He was greatly distinguished 
 I as a writer, particularly on the subject of medicine. 
 
 The tone of voice in which man, under a full and realizing sense of the 
 
 incalculable worth of an immortal existence, would speak, remains to be 
 
 heard on earth. True eloquence, employed in the pulpit, cannot fail to 
 
 ', have a most salutary effect upon the morals and lives of the people ; for 
 
 ; every garland and chaplet which it weaves, are composed of the fragrant 
 
 leaves of the tree of life. 
 
 10. Taste for Reading.— Sir J. Herschell. 
 
 1. If I were to pray for a taste which would abide with me 
 under every variety of circumstances, and be a source of hap- 
 piness and cheerfulness through life, and shield me against its 
 many ills, however things might go amiss, and the world 
 frown upon me, it would be a taste for reading. I speak of it, 
 of course, only as a worldly advantage, and not in the slight- 
 
 I est degree superseding or derogating from the higher office 
 and surer and stronger panoply of re^gious principles ; but as 
 a taste, an instrument, and a mode of pleasurable gratification. 
 
 2. Give a man this taste and the means of gratifying it, and 
 you can hardly fail of making him a happy man, unless, in- 
 deed, you put into his hands a most perverse selection of books. 
 You place him in contact with the best society of every period 
 of history — with the wisest, the wittiest, the tenderest, the 
 bravest, and the purest characters which have adorned hu- 
 manity. You make him a denizen of all nations, cotemporary 
 
 f all ages. The world has been created for him. 
 ^3.\Irkis hardly possible that his character should not/take a 
 Ligher/aM a better ton&If/om the constant habit of associating 
 with & class, of tpnkers,^o/say the least of it, above the average 
 of hamanity. It is morally impossible that the manners 
 shouM not tal&e a tinge pf good breeding and civilization, from 
 having constantly before one's eyes the way in which the best 
 brejfr ahd best informed mten have talked and conducted them- 
 selves, in their intercourse with each other. 
 
70 SELECT PIECES 
 
 4. There is a gentle but perfectly irresistible coercion in a 
 well directed habit of reading, over the whole tenor of a man's 
 character and conduct, which is not the less essential because 
 it works insensibly, and because it is really the last thing he 
 dreams of. It civilizes the conduct of men, and suffers them 
 not to remain barbarous. 
 
 11. A Rabbinical Tale. — Dr. Franklin. 
 
 1. And it came to pass after these things, that Abraham sat 
 at the door of his tent, about the going down of the sun. And 
 behold ! a man bent with age, coming from the way of the 
 wilderness, leaning on a staff And Abraham arose, met 
 him, and said unto him : " Turn in, I pray thee, and wash 
 thy feet, and tarry all night, and thou shalt arise early in the 
 morning, and go on thy way." 
 
 2. And the man said: " Nay, for I will abide under this 
 tree." But Abraham pressed him greatly; so he turned, and 
 they went into the tent. And Abraham baked unleavened 
 bread, and they did eat. And when Abraham saw that the 
 man blessed not God, he said unto him : " Wherefore doest 
 thou not worship the most high God, Creator of heaven and 
 earth?" 
 
 3. And the man answered and said : " I worship the God 
 of my fathers, in the way which t^iey have appointed." And 
 Abraham's wrath was kindled against the man, and he arose 
 and fell upon him, and drove him forth with blows into the 
 wilderness. And God called unto Abraham, saying : " Abra- 
 ham, where is the stranger?" 
 
 4. And Abraham answered and said : " Lord, he would not 
 worship thee, neither would he call upon thy name, therefore 
 have I driven him out before my face into the wilderness.'* 
 And God said : " Have I borne with*him these hundred and 
 ninety years, and nourished him, and clothed him, notwith- 
 standing his rebellion against me; and couldst not thou, who 
 art thyself a sinner, bear with him one night?" 
 
 5. And Abraham said : " Let not the anger of my Lord 
 wax hot against his servant; lo ! I have sinned, I pray thee 
 forgive me." And Abraham arose, and went forth into the 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 71 
 
 wilderness, and sought diligently for the man, and found him, 
 and returned with him to the tent ; and when he had treated 
 him kindly, he sent him away on the morrow with gifts. 
 
 Benjamin Franklin was born at Boston in the year 1706, and died April 
 17th, 1790. He was eminently useful both as a philosopher and states- 
 man. So perfect was his knowledge of electricity, that he drew lightning 
 from the clouds. He also invented the lightning rod, which is extensively 
 and advantageously used. He took an active and prominent part in the 
 glorious cause of American freedom. His patriotism was not ''hemmed 
 in," by the territorial limits of any country. His language was : "Where 
 liberty dwells, there is my country." He was President of the American 
 Philosophical Society, Fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, Lon- 
 don, and Paris, Governor of the state of Pennsylvania, and Minister 
 Plenipotentiary from the United States to the court of France. He re- 
 quested the following epitaph which he composed, to be inscribed upon 
 his tomb-stone : 
 
 " The body of Benjamin Frankxm, Printer, like the covering of an old 
 book, its contents torn out, and stript of its lettering and gilding, lies here, 
 food for worms; yet the work itself shall not be lost, but will, as he be- 
 lieved, appear once more in a new and beautiful edition, corrected and 
 amended by the Author," 
 
 The remains of the great philanthropist, lie in the Christ-church Ceme- 
 tery, at Philadelphia, corner of Mulberry and Fifth-street ; and the only 
 inscription upon his tomb-stone, is as follows : 
 
 Benjamin ) 
 
 and > Franklin. 
 Deborah ) 
 1790. 
 
 11 No chisell'd urn is rear'd to thee ; 
 No sculpturd scroll enrols its page, 
 To tell the children of the free, 
 
 Where rests the patriot and the sage. 
 
 " That name 's enough — that honor 'd name 
 No aid from eulogy requires ; 
 'Tis blended with thy country's fame, 
 And flashes round her lightning spires." 
 
 Dr. Franklin being in company where religious intolerance was the sub- 
 ject discussed, to illustrate some remarks he had made in favor of tolera- 
 tion, took up a Bible ; and, opening at Genesis, read the foregoing parable, 
 to the surprise of his hearers, who wondered that such a passage had es- 
 caped their notice ! There is no such passage or parable in the Bible, but 
 nevertheless, we are taught a good lesson in favor of religious toleration. 
 
>2 SELECT PIECES 
 
 12. Education. — Governor Seward. 
 
 1. Our physicians, our lawyers, our divines, our politicians, 
 and even our instructors of youth, seem too often to suppose 
 when they enter upon the active duties of their vocation, that 
 they have acquired all the knowledge requisite for their dis- 
 charge, and forget that they are, at that moment, only quali- 
 fied for the higher and more elevated course of study that 
 leads to success, distinction, and usefulness. 
 
 2. Let us, then, remember for ourselves, and inculcate upon 
 the people, that our progress thus far has but led us to the 
 vestibule of knowledge. 
 
 3. When we see people content in the belief that they know 
 all that is known, or is desirable to be known, let us instruct 
 them, that there is a science that will reveal to them the hid- 
 den and perpetual fires, in which, are continually carried on 
 the formation and modification of the rocks, which compose 
 this apparently solid globe, and from whose elaborate changes 
 is derived the sustenance of all that variety of vegetable life, 
 with which it is clothed. 
 
 4. That another will disclose to them the elements and 
 properties of those metals which men combine or shape with 
 varied art, into the thousand implements and machines, by the 
 use of which, the forest world has been converted into a family 
 of kindred nations. 
 
 5. That another solicits their attention, while she will bring 
 in review before them, so that they can examine with greater 
 care and instruction than they did their great progenitor in 
 the primitive garden, all the races of animated beings, and 
 learn their organization, uses, and history. 
 
 6. That another will classify and submit to their delighted 
 examination, the entire vegetable kingdom, making them fa- 
 miliar with the virtues a* well as the forms of every species, 
 from the cedar of Lebanon to the humble flower that is crush- 
 ed under their feet. 
 
 7. That another will decompose and submit to their exami- 
 nation, the water which fertilizes the earth, and the invisible 
 ail they breathe; will develope the sources and laws of that 
 heat which seems to kindle all life into existence, and that 
 terrific, lightning which seems the special messenger of divine 
 wrath to extinguish it. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 73 
 
 8. Let us teach that the world of matter in which we live, 
 in all its vast variety of form, is influential in the production, 
 support, and happiness of our own life ; and that it is passing 
 strange, that with minds endowed with a capacity to study that 
 influence and measurably direct it, we should yield uninquir- 
 ingly to its action, as if it were capricious accident, or blind 
 destiny. 
 
 9. Shall we not excite some interest, when we appeal to the 
 public, to learn that science which teaches the mechanism of 
 our own wonderfully and fearfully fashioned frames, and that 
 other science which teaches the vastly more complicated and 
 delicate structure of our immortal minds ? Who would not 
 follow with delight, that science which elevates our thoughts 
 to the heavens, and teaches us the magnitude, forms, dis- 
 tances, revolutions, and laws, of the globes that fill the con- 
 cave space above us ? 
 
 10. And who, with thoughts thus gradually conducted 
 through the range of the material universe, would not receive 
 with humility, yet with delight, the teachings of that spirit of 
 divine truth, which exalts us to the study of the character and 
 attributes of that glorious and beneficent Being, whose single 
 volition called it all into existence. 
 
 11. Let us teach the people all this ; and let us show them, 
 that while we sit contentedly in comparative ignorance, the arts 
 are waiting to instruct us how to reduce the weary labors of 
 life ; philosophy, how to avoid its errors and misfortunes ; elo- 
 quence, poetry, and music, to cheer its way and refine our 
 affections ; and that religion is most efficient when she com- 
 bines and profits by all these instructions, to conduct us to 
 happiness in a future state. 
 
 12. Above all, let us inculcate, that the great and benefi- 
 cent Being who created us and this material universe, has 
 established between each of us, and every part of it cogniza- 
 ble by our minds, relations more or less intimate. 
 
 13. That he has impressed not more on the globes that roll 
 through the infinitude of space, than on the pebble that lies 
 beneath our feet ; not more on the wind and lightning, than 
 the etherial mind of man ; and not more on the human soul, 
 than the dimly lighted instinct of the glow-worm, or the in- 
 sect visible only by microscopic aid, — " laws that determine 
 their organization, their duration, time, place, circumstance, 
 and action ; that for our security, improvement, and happi- 
 
 7 
 
74 SELECT PIECES 
 
 ness, he has subjected those laws to our keen investigation 
 and perpetual discovery ; and that vast as is the range of that 
 discovery, so vast, and more extended than we can describe, 
 or can yet be conceived, is knowledge ; and to attain all this 
 knowledge — is Education." 
 
 The above extract is from Governor "William H. Seward's Discourse on 
 Education, delivered at Westfield, Chautauque county, N. Y., July 26, 
 1837. Its distinguished author feels, as well as manifests, a deep and 
 thrilling interest in elevating the standard of education. He believes with 
 the great and good men by whom our government was organized, that it 
 " cannot live but as it is sustained by the virtue and intelligence of the 
 people." Mr. Seward agrees in opinion with Napoleon Bonaparte, that 
 " the only true conquests, and those which leave no regrets, are those 
 which we obtain over ignorance." He was elected Governor of the state 
 of New- York in the year 1838. It will be perceived, that his excellency 
 assumes the position, that, although we are ever learning, we are never 
 able to learn all " that is desirable to be known." The governor's position 
 is correct. The world is a school, in which all mankind are pupils. At 
 no period of our lives can we, with propriety, say, our education is finished. 
 Under all the circumstances of life, we seem, as Sir Isaac Newton says, 
 " like children picking up a shell here and there on the shore of the great 
 ocean of truth." Governor Seward was reelected in 1840. 
 
 13. Hamlet's Instruction to the Players. — Shakspeare. 
 
 1. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, 
 trippingly on the tongue ; but if you mouth it, as many of 
 our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. 
 Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus : but 
 use all gently ; for, in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may 
 say, whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget 
 a temperance that may give it smoothness. 
 
 2. O, it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious periwig- 
 pated fellow, tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the 
 ears of the groundlings, who, for the most part, are capable 
 of nothing but inexplicable dumb show and noise. I would 
 have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant ; it out- 
 Herods Herod. Pray you avoid it. 
 
 3. But not too tame, neither, but let your own discretion be 
 your tutor ; suit the action to the word, the word to the action ; 
 with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modes- 
 ty of nature ; for any thing so overdone is from the purpose 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 75 
 
 of playing ; whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, 
 . to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature ; to show virtue her 
 own feature ; scorn, her own image ; and the very age and 
 body of the time, its form and pressure. 
 
 4. Now this, overdone, or come tardy off, though it make 
 the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve, the 
 censure of which one, must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a 
 whole theatre of others. 
 
 5. O, there be players that I have seen play, — and heard 
 others praise, and that highly, — not to speak it profanely, that 
 neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Chris- 
 tians, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I 
 have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and 
 not made men well^ they imitated humanity so abominably. 
 
 Shakspeare, the master of the heart, and the great and unrivalled de- 
 lineator of human character, was born at Stratford, on the Avon in 1564. 
 It has been justly said of him, that " he exhausted worlds, and then im- 
 agined new." By the power of his genius, he demands and obtains our 
 belief, even for what is singular. As observed in the Encyclopaedia : " Not 
 only are his human characters inexhaustible, even in conception, but he - 
 opens the gates of the magic world, calls up the midnight ghosts, exhibits 
 witches, and fills the air with sportive fairies, and sylphs, and deformed 
 monsters ; and although such beings exist only in imagination, he extorts 
 the conviction, that if they did actually exist, they would conduct them- 
 selves as he represents.'^ Hamlet's advice to the players is very judi- 
 cious, and all public speakers should be governed by it. It is a good piece 
 for reeitation. But let it not be supposed, that so far as the voice may be 
 concerned, reading is any thing more or less, " than speaking at sight, by 
 the assistance of letters." 
 
 14. Tell's Address to the Mountains. — K?iowles. 
 
 Ye crags and peaks, I'm with you once again ! 
 
 I hold to you the hands you first beheld, 
 
 To show they still are free. Methinks I hear 
 
 A spirit in your echoes answer me, 
 
 And bid your tenant welcome to his home 
 
 Again ! O, sacred forms, how proud you look ! 
 
 How high you lift your heads into the sky ! 
 
 How huge you are ! how mighty and how free ! 
 
76 SELECT PIECES 
 
 2. Ye are the things that tower, that shine — whose smile 
 Makes glad — whose frown is terrible — whose forms, 
 Robed or unrobed, do all the impress wear 
 Of awe divine. Ye guards of liberty ! 
 I'm with you once again ! — I call to you 
 With all my voice ! I hold my hands to you 
 To show they still are free. I rush to you, 
 As though I could embrace you ! 
 
 Tell's address is from the play of " William Tell," written by James 
 Sheridan Knowles. Tell was an illustrious Swiss patriot. In the year 
 1307, he aroused his fellow-citizens to throw off the yoke of Austrian 
 bondage, and to establish the independence of their country. The above 
 address, being the language of exultation, should be given on a very high 
 key, and with great animation and power. It is a favorite piece with elo- 
 cutionists and students in oratory. 
 
 15. Address to the Sun. — Ossian. 
 
 1. O, thou that roll est above, round as the shield of my 
 fathers! Whence are thy beams, O sun! thy everlasting 
 light ? Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty ; the stars 
 hide themselves in the sky ; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in 
 the western wave. 
 
 2. But thou, thyself, mo vest alone: who can be a companion 
 of thy course? The oaks of the mountains fall ; the mountains 
 themselves decay with years ; the ocean shrinks and grows 
 again ; the moon herself is lost in heaven ; but thou art for 
 ever the same, rejoicing in the brightness of thy course. 
 
 3. When the world is dark with tempests ; when thunder 
 rolls, and lightning flies, thou lookest in thy beauty from the 
 clouds and laughest at the storm. But to Ossian, thou lookest 
 in vain ; for he beholds thy beams no more ; whether thy 
 yellow hairs flow on the eastern clouds, or thou tremblest at 
 the gates of the west. 
 
 4. But thou art, perhaps, like me, for a season ; thy years 
 will have an end. Thou shalt sleep in the clouds, careless 
 of the voice of the morning. Exult, then, O sun! in the 
 Strength of thy youth ! 
 
 5. Age is dark and unlovely; it is like the glimmering 
 light of the moon, when it shines through broken clouds, and 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 77 
 
 the mist is on the hills ; the blast of the north is on the plain ; 
 the traveller shrinks in the midst of his journey. 
 
 Ossian, whose beautiful and sublime address to the sun is here inserted, 
 was a Caledonian, and is supposed to have been the son of Fingal. It is 
 presumed that he flourished in the fourth 'century, from which period to 
 the present time, his writings have commanded the admiration of the world. 
 His effusions have been the delight of men highly distinguished for their 
 talents, among whom may be mentioned Napoleon Bonaparte. At the 
 time Ossian made this magnificent apostrophe to the sun, he was blind, to 
 which circumstance he alludes, when he says : " For he beholds thy 
 beams no more." Homer and Milton were also blind when they wrote 
 some of their best pieces. It seems, that in proportion as physical light 
 was excluded from the three great poets, eyes of genius were planted in 
 their minds. The sun is the first material object to which man ever bowed 
 in worship. It both discovers and conceals the glory of its great Creator, 
 who alone is entitled to our adoration. Ossian 's cotemporaries doubtless 
 worshipped the sun ; but it appears that he, at least, doubted the propriety 
 of doing it, as he calls in question its eternity. It is, however, believed 
 that Ossian paid more homage to the sun, than to any other object ; and, 
 therefore, his address to it may be regarded as a prayer, emanating from the 
 heart of a blind and aged man. Its elocution requires slow time, some- 
 what of a low key, and long quantity. It is one of the most exquisite 
 productions in our language; and, when properly read or recited, appeals 
 powerfully to the sympathetic feelings of our nature. The author is 
 aware the question is not settled with certainty, that Ossian really existed, 
 or if he did, that he actually wrote the poems attributed to him. 
 
 16. Rienzi's Address to the Romans.— Miss Mitford. 
 
 1. 1 come not here to talk. You know too well 
 The story of our thraldom. We. are slaves ! 
 The bright sun rises to his course, and lights 
 A race of slaves ! He sets, and his last beam 
 Falls on a slave ; not such as swept along 
 By the full tide of pow r er, the conqueror led 
 To crimson glory and undying fame ; 
 But base, ignoble slaves — slaves to a horde 
 Of petty tyrants, feudal despots, lords, 
 Rich in some dozen paltry villages — 
 Strong in some hundred spearmen — only great 
 In that strange spell — a name. 
 
 2. Each hour, dark fraud, 
 
 Or open rapine, or protected murder. 
 
78 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Cry out against them. But this very day, 
 
 An honest man, my neighbor, there he stands, 
 
 Was struck, struck like a dog, by one who wore 
 
 The badge of Ursin : because, forsooth, 
 
 He toss'd not high his ready cap in air, 
 
 Nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts, 
 
 At sight of that great ruffian ! Be we men, 
 
 And suffer such dishonor — men, and wash not 
 
 The stain away in blood % Such shames are common. 
 
 I have known deeper wrongs — I, that speak to ye, 
 
 I had a brother once, a gracious boy, 
 
 Full of gentleness, of calmest hope, 
 
 Of sweet and quiet joy — there was the look 
 
 Of heaven upon his face, which limners give 
 
 To the beloved disciple ! 
 
 3. How I lov'd 
 That gracious boy ! Younger by fifteen years, 
 Brother at once, and son ! He left my side, 
 A summer bloom on his fair cheek, — a smile 
 Parting his innocent lips. In one short hour 
 That pretty harmless boy was slain ! I saw 
 The corse, the mangled corse, and then I cried 
 
 For vengeance ! Rouse ye, Romans ! — Rouse ye, slaves ! 
 Have ye brave sons % Look in the next fierce brawl 
 To see them die. Have ye fair daughters? Look 
 To see them live, torn from your arms, distained, 
 Dishonored ; and if ye dare call for justice, 
 Be answered by the lash. 
 
 4. Yet this is Rome, 
 That sat on her seven hills, and, from her throne 
 Of beauty, ruled the world ! Yet we are Romans ' 
 Why, in that elder day, tp be a itu A uan, 
 
 Was greater thafi a king ! 
 
 And once again, — 
 Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread 
 Of either Brutus ! Once again I swear, 
 The eternal city shall be free. 
 
 The above address was written by Miss Mary Russel Mitford, and it is 
 a most admirable piece for an elocutionary exercise. It requires sudden 
 transitions of voice j in other words, the high, low, and middle keys of the 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 79 
 
 oice are all heard in it. The talent displayed in the composition of the 
 address, exhibits evidence of the high intellectual endowments of the wri- 
 ter. It shows, moreover, that ladies may wield as powerful a pen as men. 
 
 17. Address to the Ocean. — Byron. 
 
 1. Oh ! that the desert were my dwelling place, 
 With one fair spirit for my minister, 
 
 That I miffht all forget the human race, 
 And, hating no one, love but only her ! 
 Ye elements ! in whose ennobling stir 
 1 feel myself exalted — can ye not 
 Accord me such a being ? Do I err 
 In deeming such inhabit many a spot? 
 Though, with them to converse, can rarely be our lot. 
 
 2. There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 
 There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 
 There is society where none intrudes, 
 
 By the deep sea, and music in its roar: 
 I love not man the less, but nature more 
 From these our interviews, in which I steal 
 From all I may be, or have been before, 
 To mingle with the universe, and feel 
 What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal. 
 
 3. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean — roll ! 
 Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; 
 Man marks the earth with ruin — his contro* 
 Stops with the shore ; — upon the watery plain 
 The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain 
 A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, 
 When for a moment, like a drop of rain, 
 
 He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, 
 Without a grave, unknell'd, uncofrin'd, and unknown. 
 
 4. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form 
 * Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time, 
 
 Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm, 
 Icing the pole ; or in the torrid clime 
 
g SELECT PIECES 
 
 Dark heaving ; — boundless, endless, and sublim 
 The image of eternity — the throne 
 Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime 
 The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone 
 Obeys thee ; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. 
 
 5. And I have lov'd thee, Ocean ! and my joy 
 Of youthful sports, was, on thy breast to be 
 Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy 
 I wanton'd with thy breakers ; — they to me 
 Were a delight ; and if the freshening sea 
 Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear ; 
 For I was, as it were, a child of thee, 
 And trusted to thy billows far and near, 
 
 And laid my hand upon thy mane — as 1 do here. 
 
 6. My task is done — my song hath ceased — my theme 
 Hath died into an echo ; 'tis fit 
 The spell should break of this protracted dream. 
 The torch shall be extinguished which hath lit 
 My midnight lamp — and what is writ, is writ, — 
 Would it were worthier ! but I am not now 
 That which I have been — and my visions flit 
 Less palpably before me— and the glow 
 
 Which in my spirit dwelt, is fluttering, faint, and low. 
 
 George Gordon Byron, a nobleman of England, was born at London, 
 January 23, 1788, and died at Missilonghi, in Greece, April 20, 1824. 
 His poetry relates to a great variety of subjects, and is of the highest lite- 
 rary order. At the early age of thirty-six, Lord Byron fell a martyr in the 
 cause of freedom, while assisting the Greeks, ir their virtuous struggle to 
 throw off the shackles of despotism. It is a mattei of /egret, that his mo- 
 ral habits were not, in all respects, correct, and that some of his writings 
 are apparently hostile to the pure principles of Christianity. His address 
 to the ocean is from " Childe Harold." It should be given on a middle 
 key, with slow time, and long quantity. Elocution requires that it be so 
 read or recited as to call up all the internal feelings which animated the 
 author at the time he wrote it, in the minds of both reader and hearer. 
 
 18. Speech of Henry V. to his Troops, before the gates 
 of Harfleur. — Shakspeare. 
 
 1. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more ; 
 Or close the wall up with our English dead ! 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 81 
 
 In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, 
 
 As modest stillness and humility ; 
 
 But when the blast of war blows in our ears, 
 
 Then imitate the action of a tiger ; 
 
 Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, 
 
 Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage ; 
 
 Then lend the eye a terrible aspect ; 
 
 Let it pry through the portage of the head, 
 
 Like the brass cannon ; let the brow o'erwhelm it, 
 
 As fearfully as doth a galled rock 
 
 O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, 
 
 Swilled with the wide and wasteful ocean. 
 
 2. Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostrils wide ; 
 Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit 
 To his full height ! — 0?j, on, ye noble English; 
 Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! 
 Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders, 
 Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought, 
 And sheathed their swords for lack of argument 
 Be copy now to men of grosser blood, 
 
 And teach them how to war ! 
 
 3. And you, good yeomen. 
 Whose limbs were made in England, show us here 
 The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear 
 
 That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not ; 
 
 For there is none of you so mean and base, 
 
 That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. 
 
 I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, 
 
 Straining upon the start. The game's afoot ; 
 
 Follow your spirit ; and, upon this charge, 
 
 Cry — God for Harry ! England I and Saint George ! 
 
 In the third line of the second verse of King Henry's speech, a rhetori- 
 cal pause should be made, after uttering the word, " full," thus: 
 
 " To its full height." 
 
 Rhetorical pauses should generally be short, — the quaver rest in music, 
 is about their duration of time. They should however be longer or short- 
 er, according to their sense. 
 
 The object of the king was to stimulate his subjects to fight in his be- 
 half; and his speech, excepting the third and fourth lines, requires a quick 
 rate of utterance, and a very high key. 
 
82 SELECT PIECES 
 
 19. The Grave. — James Montgomery. 
 
 1. There is a calm for those who weep, 
 A rest for weary pilgrims found ; 
 They softly lie, and sweetly sleep, 
 
 Low in the ground. 
 
 2. The storm that wrecks the wintry sky, 
 . No more disturbs their deep repose, 
 
 Than summer evening's latest sigh, 
 
 That shuts the rose 
 
 3. I long to lay this painful head 
 And aching heart, beneath the soil ; 
 To slumber in that dreamless bed, 
 
 From all my toil. 
 
 4. For misery stole me at my birth, 
 And cast me helpless on the wild ; 
 I perish ; O my mother earth, 
 
 Take home thy child. 
 
 These elegant lines from Montgomery's beautiful poem, should be read 
 or recited, on a very low key, with slow time, and long quantity. Rheto- 
 rical pauses should be made in the last line of each verse, after uttering 
 the words, "low," "shuts," "all," and "home." 
 
 20. Extract from a Discourse on the Genius and Charac- 
 ter of the Rev. Horace Holley. — Dr. Caldwell. 
 
 1. He sickened during the darkness and roar of a tempest, 
 as fierce as the delirium by which his great intellect was des- 
 tined to be shattered ; and which shook, for a time, surround- 
 ing nature with a tumult as appalling, as the fearful convul- 
 sions amidst which he expired. 
 
 2. And he died after a short illness at sea, in the meridian 
 of life, remote from medical aid, and from all connections and 
 intimate friends, that might have soothed his sufferings and 
 ministered to his wants ; was attended in his sickness only by 
 
 who were destitute alike of skill and means to 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 83 
 
 afford him relief, or even contribute to his comfort, and his 
 remains were committed to the waves of the Gulf of Mexico. 
 
 3. To deepen still more the sombre shades of the melancholy 
 picture, all this happened at a conjuncture when offers were 
 held out to him, and prospects unfolded, in the highest degree 
 flattering; and by which he might have become easy and 
 affluent in fortune. 
 
 4. And the value of such prospects can be duly appreciated 
 by his acquaintance and friends ; for it is well known to them, 
 that, like too many others of the bright but improvident sons 
 of genius, he had made no competent pecuniary provisions, 
 for any of the adverse contingencies of life. 
 
 5. The rolling surf, as it breaks over the reef near which he 
 was deposited, resounds to him a deep and solemn requiem, 
 which will never cease to salute the ear of the passing mari- 
 ner, while the winds shall continue to waft him, and the ocean 
 be his home. 
 
 6. And amidst the roar of the mighty waters, his repose 
 will be as peaceful, as if he slept under fretted marble, or the 
 grassy sod, silently wept on by the dews of evening, and soothed 
 by the vespers of the softened breeze. Let us fancy to our- 
 selves a choir of the fairest and most exquisite vocalists of the 
 ocean, chanting to their favorite the following elegy : 
 
 7. Farewell ! be it ours to embellish thy pillow 
 With every thing beauteous that grows in the deep ; 
 Each flower of the rock, and each gem of the billow, 
 Shall sweeten thy bed, and illumine thy sleep. 
 
 8. Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber 
 That ever the sorrowing sea-bird has wept; 
 
 With many a shell, in whose hollow-wreathed chamber, 
 We daughters of ocean, by moonlight have slept. 
 
 $. We'll dive where the gardens of coral lie darkling, 
 And plant all the rosiest sterns at thy head ; 
 We'll seek where the sands are most precious and sparkling, 
 And gather their dust to strew over thy head. 
 
 ). Farewell ! farewell ! until pity's emotion 
 Is extinct in the hearts of the fair and the brave ; 
 They'll weep for their favorite, who died on this ocean ; 
 The stranger who peacefully sleeps in this wave. 
 
84 SELECT PIECES 
 
 The Rev. Horace Holley, LL. P., was President of the Transylvania 
 University, at Lexington, in the state of Kentucky, for nine years, during 
 which period, the institution greatly nourished. In the year 1827, Dr. 
 Holley, in consequence of persecution, and a vituperative attack from the 
 governor of that state, resigned the presidency of the University. He now 
 formed the idea of taking an excursion to Europe, for the benefit of such 
 young men as were disposed, and could afford, to accompany him. This 
 plan, he knew, would, if carried into effect, give his pupils an opportunity 
 to acquire much more practical knowledge, than they could obtain at home, 
 or from books. The excursion, too, would tend to enlarge their views and 
 liberalize their minds. The system, for its completion, was to include 
 from six to eight years. But the friends of education at New-Orleans, 
 persuaded Dr. Holley to abandon his proposed European excursion, and 
 to agree to take charge of a literary institution which they were desirous 
 to establish in their city. Owing to the oppressive heat of the climate at 
 New-Orleans in July, he measurably lost his health. Under the impres- 
 sion that the sea air would restore it, he took a ship to go to New- York. 
 While on his way to that city, a storm occurred, which occasioned sea- 
 sickness with the passengers generally ; and, with Dr. Holley, a disease 
 of which he died. His winding sheet was his cloak, and his grave the 
 ocean. He was a brother of Myron and O. L. Holley. Charles Cald- 
 well, M. D., Professor of Medicine in the Transylvania University, pre- 
 pared and delivered, at the chapel, a most excellent discourse on the 
 genius and character of Dr. Holley, from the concluding part of which, 
 the above extract is taken. It should be read or recited deliberately, and 
 with considerable quantity. The key for the prose, should not be very 
 high nor low. The poetry with which it is concluded, requires rather a 
 low key. It is a piece of deep pathos ; and, if its elocution be such as it 
 demands, it cannot fail to excite a thrilling interest in the mind of the 
 hearer. 
 
 21. Satan's supposed Speech to his Legions, on the Oblivi 
 ous Pool. — Milton. 
 
 1. Princes; potentates; 
 
 Warriors ; the flower of Heaven, once yours, now lost ! 
 If such astonishment as»this, can seize 
 Eternal spirits ; or have ye chosen this place, 
 After the toil of battle to repose 
 Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find 
 To slumber here as in the vales of Heaven? 
 
 2. Or in this abject posture, have ye sworn 
 To adore the conqueror ! who now beholds 
 Cherub and seraph rolling in the flood, 
 With scatter'd arms and ensigns ; till anon 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 85 
 
 His swift pursuers from Heaven's gates, discern 
 The advantage, and descending, tread us down 
 Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolts 
 Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf? 
 Awake ; arise ; or be for ever fallen ! 
 
 John Milton was born at London, in the year 1608. His " Paradise 
 Lost " is written with great ability. It displays almost infinite power of 
 imagination. When Milton wrote it, he doubtless, " felt the enchant- 
 ment of oriental fiction." The idea of writing it, was probably suggested 
 to the mind of its author, by his reading Homer, whose account of the 
 Trojan war somewhat resembles the description contained in Milton's 
 work, of a war in heaven. Be that as it may, Milton justly ranks very 
 ; high as a poet. The above speech which he imagines to have been made, 
 requires a high key, and quick time. 
 I 
 
 22. Apostrophe to Light. — Milton. 
 
 1. Hail, holy light ; offspring of Heaven first-born, 
 Or of the Eternal co-eternal beam, 
 
 May I express thee unblamed ? since God is light, 
 And never but in unapproached light 
 Dwelt from eternity ; dwelt then in thee, 
 ^Bright effluence of bright essence increate 
 
 2. Or hear'st thou rather, pure ethereal stream, 
 Whose fountain who shall tell ? Before the sun, 
 Before the Heavens, thou wert, and at the voice 
 Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest 
 
 The rising world of waters, dark and deep, 
 Won from the void and formless infinite. 
 
 3. Thee I revisit now with bolder wing, 
 Escaped the Stygian pool, though long detain'd 
 In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight 
 Through utter and through middle darkness borne, 
 With other notes than to the Orphean lyre, 
 
 I sung of Chaos and eternal Night. 
 
 4. Taught by the heavenly muse to venture down 
 The dark descent, and up to reascend, 
 
 8 
 
gg SELECT PIECES 
 
 Though hard and rare ; thee I revisit safe, 
 And feel thy sovereign vital lamp; but thou 
 Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain 
 To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn ; 
 So thick a drop serene hath quench'd their orbs, 
 Or dim suffusion veil'd. 
 
 5, Yet not the more, 
 Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt ; 
 Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, 
 Smit with the love of sacred song ; but chief 
 Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath, 
 That wash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling flow, 
 Nightly I visit ; nor sometimes forget 
 Those other two equal'd with me in fate, 
 So were I equal'd with them in renown ! 
 Blind Thamyris, and blind Mseonides ; 
 And Tiresias, and Phineas, prophets old ; 
 Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 
 Harmonious numbers ; as the wakeful bird 
 Sings darkling, and in the shadiest cover hid, 
 Tunes her nocturnal note. 
 
 6. Thus with the year 
 Seasons return ; but not to me returns 
 
 Day, or the sweet approach of even, or morn, 
 
 Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, 
 
 Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; 
 
 But cloud instead, and ever-during dark 
 
 Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 
 
 Cut off, and, for the book of knowledge fair, 
 
 Presented with a universal blank 
 
 Of nature's works, to me expunged and razed ; 
 
 And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 
 
 So much the rather thou, celestial Light, 
 
 Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers 
 
 Irradiate ; there plant eyes, all mist from thence 
 
 Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell 
 
 Of things invisible to mortal sight. 
 
 • 
 The above poetic address, in which Milton laments the loss of his sight, 
 
 is one of his happiest efforts. As he was blind at the time he wrote it. 
 
 wisdom was 
 
 " at one entrance quite shut out." 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 87 
 
 The deprivation of sight, seems to have given him additional vigor of 
 intellect : 
 
 " He lisped in numbers, for the numbers came." 
 
 It has been well said of him, that when "he closed his eyes on earth, he 
 opened them on heaven." The above apostrophe to light, requires a low 
 key, rather slow time, and long quantity. 
 
 23. Speech of Lord Chancellor Thurlow, in reply to 
 the Duke of Grafton. 
 
 1. My Lords: — I am amazed at the attack the noble duke 
 has made upon me. Yes, my lords, I am amazed at his 
 grace's speech. The noble duke cannot look before him, be- 
 hind him, or on either side of him, without seeing some noble 
 peer who owes his seat in this house, to his successful exer- 
 tions in the profession to which I belong. 
 
 2. Does he not feel that it is as honorable to owe it to these, 
 as to being the accident of an accident ! To all these noble 
 lords, the language of the noble duke is as applicable, and as 
 insulting, as it is to myself. But I do not fear to meet it 
 single and alone. No one venerates the peerage more than I 
 do ; but my lords, I must say that the peerage solicited me, — 
 not I the peerage. 
 
 3. Nay more ; I can and will say, that as a peer of parlia- 
 ment, as speaker of this right honorable house, as keeper of 
 the great seal, as guardian of his majesty's conscience, as lord 
 high chancellor of England, nay, even in that character alone 
 in which the noble duke would think it an affront to be con- 
 sidered, — as a man, I am at this moment as respectable, I beg 
 leave to add, as much respected, as the proudest peer I now 
 look down upon. 
 
 The (lake had, in the " House of Lords," reproached Lord Thurlow 
 with his plebeian extraction, and his recent admission to the peerage. 
 Lord Thurlow rose from the woolsack ; and, fixing on the duke almost 
 the look of Jove when he grasps the thunder, he spoke as above ; and the 
 effect of his speech was so great, that it gave him an ascendancy, both with- 
 in the walls of the house, and out of them, which no other chancellor ever 
 possessed. It should be given with great and increasing energy. 
 
88 SELECT PIECES 
 
 24. Defence before Agrippa.- — St. Paul. 
 
 1 Then Agrippa said unto Paul : " Thou art permitted to 
 speak for thyself." Then Paul stretched forth his hand and 
 answered for himself. 
 
 2. " I think myself happy, King Agrippa, because I shall 
 answer for myself this day before thee, touching all the things 
 whereof I am accused by the Jews ; especially because I 
 know thee to be expert, in all customs and questions which 
 are among the Jews ; wherefore I beseech thee to hear me 
 patiently. 
 
 3. " My manner of life from my youth, which was at the 
 first among mine own nation at Jerusalem, know all the 
 Jews, who knew me from the beginning, (if they would testi- 
 fy,) that after the most straitest sect of our religion, I lived 
 a Pharisee. 
 
 4. " And now I stand and am judged, for the hope of the 
 promise made of God unto our fathers ; unto^which promise 
 our twelve tribes, instantly serving God day and night, hope 
 to come. For which hope's sake, King Agrippa, I am accused 
 by the Jews. 
 
 5. " Why should it be thought a thing incredible with you, 
 . that God should raise the dead ? 1 verily thought with my- 
 self, that I ought to do many things contrary to the name of 
 Jesus of Nazareth. 
 
 6. " Which thing, I also did in Jerusalem ; and many oi 
 the saints did I shut up in prison, having received authority 
 from the chief priests ; and when they were put to death, I 
 gave my voice against them. 
 
 7. •' And I punished them oft in every synagogue, and 
 compelled them to blaspheme; and being exceedingly mad 
 against them, I persecuted them even unto strange cities. 
 
 8. " Whereupon, as I went to Damascus with authority and 
 commission from the chief priests, at mid-day, O king, I saw in 
 the way a light from heaven, above the brightness of the sun, 
 shining round about me, and those who journeyed with me. 
 
 9. "And when we were all fallen to the earth, I heard a 
 voice speaking unto me, and saying in the Hebrew tongue, 
 baul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ? It is hard for thee to 
 kick against the pricks. And I said, who art thou Lord'? 
 And lie said, I am Jesus whom thou persecutest 
 
?** BXlMlUft 89 
 
 10. Ci But rise, and stand upon thy feet, for I have appeared 
 unto thee for this purpose, to make thee a minister and a wit- 
 
 to ness both of these things which thou hast seen, and of those 
 ijjj things in the which I will appear unto thee; delivering thee 
 
 from the people, and from the Gentiles, unto whom now I send 
 II thee, to open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to 
 >)L light, and from the power of Satan unto God; that they may 
 I j receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which 
 
 are sanctified by faith that is in me. 
 
 11. " Whereupon ; O King Agrippa, I was not disobedient 
 unto the heavenly vision * but showed first unto them of Da- 
 
 e < mascus, and at Jerusalem, and throughout all the coasts of 
 Judea, and then to the Gentiles, that they should repent, and 
 turn to God, and do works meet for repentance. 
 
 12. " For these causes, the Jews caught me in the temple, 
 and went about to kill me. Having therefore obtained help 
 
 : of God, I continue unto this day, witnessing both to small and 
 great, saying none other things than those which the prophets 
 and Moses did say should come, that Christ should suffer, 
 and that he should be the first that should rise from the dead, 
 and should show light unto the people, and to the Gentiles." 
 
 13. And as he thus spake for himself, Festus said with a 
 loud voice : " Paul, thou art beside thyself; much learning 
 doth make thee mad." 
 
 14. But he said : " I am not mad, most noble Festus; but 
 speak forth the words of truth and soberness. For the king 
 knoweth of these things, before w r hom also I speak freely ; for 
 I am persuaded that none of these things are hidden from 
 him ; for this thing was not done in a corner. 
 
 15. " King Agrippa, oelievest thou the prophets ? I know 
 that thou believest." Then Agrippa said unto Paul : " Al- 
 most thou persuadest me to be a christian." And Paul said : 
 " I would to God that not only thou, but also all that hear me 
 this day, were both almost and altogether such as I am, ex- 
 cept these bonds." 
 
 16. And when he had thus spoken, the king rose up, and 
 the governor and Bernice, and they that sat with them. And 
 when they were gone aside, they talked between themselves, 
 saying: "This man doeth nothing worthy of death or of 
 bonds." Then said Agrippa unto Festus : " This man might 
 have been set at liberty if he had not appealed unto Caesar." — 
 Acts xxvi. 
 
 8* 
 
90 
 
 SELECT PIECES 
 
 St. Paul's defence breathes a spirit of tme and genuine eloquence. It 
 is unostentatious and sublime. It is characterized by sincerity and ear- 
 nestness. To say that he was a greater man than Hannibal, Caesar, Alex- 
 ander, Bonaparte, or even Sir Isaac Newton, or our beloved Washington 
 himself, is not enough. He was inferior only to Jesus Christ. The char- 
 acter of St. Paul and of his defence, is eloquently portrayed in the following 
 poetry : 
 
 " With illustration simple, yet profound, and with unfaltering zeal, 
 
 He spake from a warm heart, and made e'en cold hearts feel j 
 
 And this is eloquence. 'Tis the intense, 
 
 Impassioned fervor of a mind deep fraught 
 
 With native energy when soul and sense 
 
 Burst forth, embodied in the burning thought ; 
 
 When look, emotion, tone, are all combined, 
 
 When the whole man was eloquent with mind ; 
 
 A power that comes not to the call or quest, 
 
 But from the gifted soul and the deep feeling breast." 
 
 St. Paul's defence, being highly rhetorical, should be read or recited, not 
 only grammatically or correctly, but with all the pathos, power, and pol- 
 ished graces of elocution. It requires a middle key, a combination of 
 quantity and emphasis, and an earnest and animated manner. 
 
 Let the reader or declaimer possess himself fully of the sentiments and 
 feelings of the great apostle, and then his elocution will awaken in the bo- 
 soms of his hearers the same interest that pervades his own. Let it be 
 imagined that a Tertullus, or some other hireling is to appear, as counsel 
 against us ; and that we are speaking not only before the governor, but in 
 the presence of the king himself, and that, too, upon a subject of deep 
 and absorbing interest, then our voices, our looks, and our gestures, will 
 spontaneously be such as unbiassed nature directs; and we shall want 
 neither 
 
 " Action, nor utterance, nor power of speech 
 To stir men's blood." 
 
 A true orator must be a good man. St. Paul was greatly distinguished 
 for frankness. In 2 Corinthians, xii. 16, he says: " But be it so, I did 
 not burden you : nevertheless, being crafty, I caught you with guile." 
 That is, although you admit that I preached the gospel freely, you, my 
 opposers at Corinth, nevertheless, say, that I am craj'ty and practise guile. 
 In verse 17, he says : " Did I make gain of you V 3 Produce the proof if 
 in your power. He was also accused of " doing evil that good might 
 come :" to which charge he answered : " God forbid !" Some persons sup- 
 pose that he acknowledges himself to be crafty and guileful ; and, there- 
 fore, have concluded that it is right to use management and deceit to 
 promote a religious purpose. They err egregiously. The truth is, St. 
 Paul's aim was to do good by proper means. If the reader is not perfectly 
 satisfied that the passage, as it stands in the context, implies, as Bloom- 
 field says, (: a possible charge, that his not taking a stipend of his hearers 
 was but a piece of refined policy, to obtain the same purpose more effectu- 
 ally by another," he is referred to Scott and Clarke. The passage in 
 question should he so read as to convey its true meaning. 
 
 This is not the onlu instance in which St. Paul employs the figure of 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 91 
 
 irony. He also spoke ironically in the 19th verse of the 11th chapter, and 
 second Epistle to the Corinthians, where he says: "For ye suffer fools 
 gladly, seeing ye yourselves are wise." The most pathetic and sublime 
 writers, occasionally use this figure. When Job says, in the 12th chap- 
 ter and 2d verse of the book of Job : " No doubt but ye are the people, 
 and wisdom shall die with you," his meaning is unfolded by the nature of 
 the case, which is, that those to whom he addressed that language possess- 
 ed very little wisdom, if indeed any. In the third line of the ninth verse, 
 Paul says, a voice addressed him thus: " Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou 
 me 1" Christ regarded his followers, as the apple of his eye ; and, there- 
 fore, those who persecuted tlwm, were guilty of persecuting Jesus himself. 
 To say, " why persecutest thou me," implies, what induces you to do it'? 
 what evil have I done'? If it be read, " why persecutest thou me?" it 
 simply. implies, why do you persecute me 1 Put the emphasis on the word 
 "me" — " why persecutest thou me ?" and the principal idea will be con- 
 veyed, which is, what prompts you to persecute the Savior ? And this, 
 Saul had been doing, by putting the ecclesiastical laws into execution, 
 against Christ's disciples; and by punishing "them oft in every syna- 
 gogue." Nearly every word in the sentence, requires more or less empha- 
 sis. In the third line of the fifteenth verse, "Agrippa said unto Paul, 
 1 Almost thou persuadest me to be a christian.' " The apostle's eloquence 
 produced so great a sensation in the king's mind, that he was almost in- 
 duced to become a christian. If the word, " me," be emphasised, " Al- 
 most thou persuadest me to be a christian," the idea will be conveyed — 
 You have fully persuaded others to be christians; and /, too, am " almost" 
 persuaded to be one. The reason for making the word " almost " some- 
 what emphatic is obvious. Either " persuadest," or " me," or both those 
 words, should be emphasised still more strongly. To read it, " Almost 
 thru persuadest me to be a christian," conveys the idea that Paul pro- 
 duced an effect which others had failed to produce. A greater or less de- 
 gree of emphasis should be given to the whole sentence : the phrase in the 
 latter part of it, " to be a christian," is, by no means, unimportant. " To 
 be" what? not merely a man of earthly wisdom, but a christian^ which, 
 as Dr. Young truly observes in his " Night Thoughts," — " is the highest 
 style of man." 
 
 25. Extract from a supposed Speech of John Adams, in 
 support of American Independence. — D. Webster. 
 
 1. Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my 
 hand and my heart to this vote. It is true, indeed, that in the 
 beginning, we aimed not at independence. But there's a di- 
 vinity which shapes our ends. The injustice of England has 
 driven us to arms ; and, blinded to her own interest, for our 
 good, she has obstinately persisted, till independence is now 
 within our grasp. 
 
 2. We have but to reach forth to it, and it is ours. Why, 
 
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 then, should we defer the declaration? Is any man so weak, 
 as now to hope for a reconciliation with England ? Do we 
 mean to submit to the measures of parliament, Boston port-bill 
 and all? I know we do not mean to submit. We never shall 
 submit. 
 
 3. The war, then, must go on. We must fight it through. 
 And if the war must go on, why put off longer the declara- 
 tion of independence? That measure will strengthen us. It 
 will give us character abroad. The nations will then treat 
 with us, which they never can do, while we acknowledge 
 ourselves subjects in arms against our sovereign. Nay, I 
 maintain that England herself, will sooner treat for peace 
 with us, on the footing of independence, than consent, by re- 
 pealing her acts, to acknowledge that her whole conduct 
 towards us, has been a course of injustice and oppression. 
 
 4. Sir, the declaration will inspire the people with increased 
 courage. Instead of a long and bloody war for restoration 
 of privileges, for redress of grievances, for chartered immuni- 
 ties held under a British king, — set before them the glorious 
 object of entire independence, and it will breathe into them 
 anew the breath of life. 
 
 5. Read this declaration at the head of the army ; every 
 sword will be drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow 
 uttered to maintain it, or to perish on the bed of honor. Publish 
 it from the pulpit ; religion will approve it, and the love of 
 religious liberty will cling round it, resolved to stand with it, 
 or fall with it. 
 
 6. Send it to the public halls ; proclaim it there : let them 
 hear it, who heard the first roar of the enemy's cannon ; let 
 them see it, who saw their brothers and their sons fall on the 
 field of Bunker Hill, and in the streets of Lexington and Con- 
 cord, — and the very walls will cry out in its support. 
 
 7. Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. My judg- 
 ment approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. All 
 that I have, and all that I am, and all that I hope, in this life, 
 I am now ready here to stake upon it; and I leave off as I 
 
 n, that live or die, survive or perish, I am for the decla- 
 ration. It is my living sentiment, and, by the blessing of God, 
 it shall be my dying sentiment ; — independence now, and 
 independence for ever. 
 
 It is sometimes supposed that John Adams actually made the above 
 speech. It contains sentiments which he cherished j but Daniel Webster 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 93 
 
 is the author of the speech itself. In his discourse on Adams and Jeffer- 
 son, he imagines Mr. Adams to have thus spoken in favor of the imme- 
 diate adoption of the declaration of independence. It is a masterly 
 production, and it should be read or recited on a pretty high key, with 
 rather quick time, and with great and increasing animation and power. 
 Emphasis and quantity should be combined in its elocution. Mr. Adams 
 was such a warm friend to liberty, that he could at all times say : 
 
 " Thy spirit, independence, let me share ; 
 Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye, 
 Thy steps I'll follow with my bosom bare, 
 Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky." 
 
 Mr. Adams wrote the following letter the day after the declaration was 
 adopted. It is worthy of profound attention. 
 
 " Philadelphia, July 5th, 1776. 
 
 " Sir — Yesterday the greatest question was decided which was ever de- 
 bated in America ; and perhaps, greater, never was or will be dec'ded 
 among men. A resolution was passed, without one dissenting colony, 
 that these United States are, and of right ought to be, free and indepen- 
 dent states. 
 
 " The day is passed. The 4th of July, 1776, will be a memorable 
 epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be cele- 
 brated by succeeding generations, as the great American Festival. It 
 ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of 
 devotion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized with pomp, shows, 
 games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of the 
 continent to the other, from this time forward for ever. You will think 
 me transported with enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of the 
 toil, and blood, and treasure, that it will cost to maintain this declaration, 
 and support and defend these states ; yet through all the gloom, I can see 
 the rays of light and glory — I can see that the end is worth more than all 
 the means, and that posterity will triumph, although you and I may rue, 
 which I hope we shall not. 
 
 I am, &c. John Adams." 
 
 26. Description of the Person of Jesus Christ. — Josephus. 
 
 1. There lives at this time in Judea a man of singular char- 
 acter, whose name is Jesus Christ. The barbarians esteem 
 him as a prophet ; but his followers adore him as the immedi- 
 ate offspring of the immortal God. He is endowed with 
 such unparalleled virtue as to call back the dead from their 
 graves, and to heal every kind of disease with a word or a 
 touch. 
 
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 2. His person is tall and elegantly shaped ; his aspect ami- 
 able and reverend ; his hair flows in those beauteous shades 
 which no united colors can match, falling in graceful curls 
 below his ears, agreeably couching on his shoulders, and 
 parting on the crown of his head ; his dress of the sect of 
 Nazarites ; his forehead is smooth and large ; his cheek with- 
 out either spot, save that of a lovely red ; his nose and mouth 
 are formed with exquisite symmetry ; his beard is thick and 
 suitable to the hair of his head, reaching a little below his 
 chin and parting in the middle like a fork ; his eyes are bright, 
 clear, and serene. 
 
 3. He rebukes with mildness, and invites with the most 
 tender and persuasive language, — his whole address, whether 
 word or deed, being elegant, grave, and strictly characteristic 
 of so exalted a being. No man has seen him laugh, but the 
 whole world beholds him weep frequently ; and so persuasive 
 are his tears, that the whole multitude cannot withhold their 
 tears from joining in sympathy with him. He is very modest, 
 temperate, and wise ; in short, whatever this phenomena may 
 turn out in the end, he seems, at present, to be a man of ex- 
 cellent beauty, and divine perfections, every way surpassing 
 the children of men. 
 
 In the year ninety-three, Flavius Josephus wrote a voluminous histo- 
 ry, entitled, " Antiquities of the Jews." Notwithstanding he was a Jew, 
 and probably a zealous one, he speaks of Jesus Christ in his celebrated 
 history, in the most commendatory manner : " Now there was about this 
 time, one Jesus, a wise man, if it be lawful to call him a man, for 
 he was a doer of wonderful works, a teacher of such men as receive the 
 truth with pleasure. He drew over to him both many of the Jews, and 
 many of the Gentiles also. He was the Christ. And when Pilate, at the 
 suggestion of the principal men among us, had condemned him to the 
 cross, those that loved him at first, did not forsake him ; for he appeared 
 to them alive again, the third day, as the divine prophets had foretold 
 these and ten thousand other wonderful things concerning Him." Thus 
 undeniably speaks the great Jewish historian. 
 
 The above description of the person of our Savior, is said to have been 
 found in his writings, and transcribed at London in 1732. It is an elo- 
 quent description of that exalted personage, and it was sent by Publius, 
 president of Judea, to the senate of Rome. It is however considered 
 doubtful whether Josephus wrote it. Be that as it may, in the eighteenth 
 -•I the Emperor Tiberius, Jesus Christ, our blessed Savior, appeared 
 on earth, clothed in the majesty of the Son of God, and held up to the 
 m.w of the world, an infinite variety of the most instructive and interest- 
 in-: truths, winch extend their influence through all the concerns of life, 
 the shadow of death, and an endless duration in another world. Christ's 
 manna of speaking was as perfect as his doctrines. And ; in the beauti- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 95 
 
 fill language of the late reverend and lamented W. Ward Ninde : " The 
 orator of our times — he who would fill the largest space in the public eye — 
 who would glow with the most lofty feelings of our nature, and take part 
 in the mightiest events of the age, must be a christian — the disciple and 
 humble imitator of Him " who spake as never man spake." 
 
 27. The Blind Preacher. — Wm. Wirt 
 
 1. One Sunday, as I travelled through the county of Orange, 
 my eye was caught by a cluster of horses, tied near a ruinous, 
 old, wooden house in the forest, not far from the road-side. 
 Having frequently seen such objects before, in travelling 
 through these States, I had no difficulty hi understanding, that 
 this was a place of religious worship. Devotion, alone, should 
 have stopped me, to join in the duties of the congregation ; 
 but I must confess, that curiosity to hear the preacher of such 
 a wilderness, was not the least of my motives. 
 
 2. On entering the house, I was struck with his preternatu- 
 ral appearance. He was a tall and very spare old man, — his 
 head, which was covered with a white linen cap, his shrivelled 
 hands, and his voice, were all shaken under the influence of a 
 palsy, and a few moments convinced me that he was blind. 
 The first emotions which touched my breast, were those of 
 mingled pity and veneration. But ah ! how soon were ail my 
 feelings changed ! 
 
 3. It was a day of the administration of the sacrament, and 
 his subject, of course, was the passion of our Savior. I had 
 heard the subject handled a thousand times ; I had thought it 
 
 | exhausted long ago. Little did I suppose, that in the wild 
 ' woods of America, I was to meet with a man whose eloquence 
 i would give to this topic, a new and more sublime pathos than 
 I had ever before witnessed, 
 
 4. As he descended from the pulpit, to distribute the mystic 
 symbols, there was a peculiar, a more than human solemnity 
 in his air and manner, which made my blood run cold, and 
 my whole frame to shiver. He then drew a picture of the 
 sufferings of our Savior — his trial before Pilate — his ascent 
 up Calvary — his crucifixion — and his death. 
 
 5. I knew the whole history ; but never, until then, had I 
 heard the circumstances so selected, so arranged, so colored ! 
 
Q 6 SELECT PIECES 
 
 It was all new ; and I seemed to have heard it for the first 
 time in my life. His enunciation was so deliberate, that his 
 voice trembled on every syllable; and every heart in the 
 assembly trembled in unison. 
 
 6. His peculiar phrases had that force of description, that 
 the original scene appeared to be, at that moment, acting be- 
 fore our eyes. We saw the very faces of the Jews — the 
 staring, frightful distortions of malice and rage. We saw the 
 buffet, — my soul kindled with a flame of indignation, and my 
 hands were involuntarily and convulsively clenched. 
 
 7. But when he came to touch the patience, the forgiving 
 meekness of our Savior — when he drew, to the life, his blessed 
 eyes streaming in tears to heaven — his voice breathing to 
 God, a soft and gentle prayer of pardon on his enemies : — 
 "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," — 
 the voice of the preacher, which had all along faltered, grew 
 fainter and fainter, until his utterance being entirely obstructed 
 by the force of his feelings, he raised his handkerchief to his 
 eyes, and burst into a loud and irrepressible flood of grief 
 The effect was inconceivable. The whole house resounded 
 with the mingled groans, and sobs, and shrieks of the con- 
 gregation. 
 
 8. It was some time before the tumult had subsided, so far 
 as to permit him to proceed. Indeed, judging by the usual, 
 but fallacious standard of my own weakness, I began to be 
 very uneasy for the situation of the preacher. 
 
 9. For I could not conceive how he would be able to let his 
 audience down from the height to which he had wound them, 
 without impairing the solemnity and dignity of his subject, or, 
 perhaps, shocking them by the abruptness of the fall. But 
 the descent was as beautiful and sublime, as the elevation had 
 been rapid and enthusiastic. 
 
 10. The first sentence with which he broke the awful 
 silence, was a quotation from Rousseau : " Socrates died like a 
 philosopher, but Jesus Christ like a God!!" Never before 
 did I completely understand what Demosthenes meant by 
 laying such stress on delivery. 
 
 The " Blind Preacher" is from the "British Spy," of which the late 
 honorable and lamented William Wirt, of Baltimore, was the author. 
 Rousseau, mentioned in the tenth verse, was a celebrated Swiss philoso- 
 pher, bom in Geneva, A. D. 1711. The " Blind Preacher" is one of the 
 moat pathetic and beautiful pieces of a descriptive character in our lan- 
 guage. It should be read colloquiallv. and in an animated manner. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 97 
 
 28. David's Lamentation over Saul and Jonathan. 
 
 1. The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places: 
 how are the mighty fallen ! Tell it not in Gath, publish it 
 not in the streets of Ashkelon ; lest the daughters of the 
 Philistines rejoice, lest the daughters of the uncireumcised 
 triumph. 
 
 2. Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew, neither 
 let there be rain upon you, nor fields of offerings ; for there 
 the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of Saul, 
 as though he had not been anointed with oil. 
 
 3. From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, 
 the bow of Jonathan turned not back, and the sword of Saul 
 returned not empty. Saul and Jonathan were lovely and 
 pleasant in their lives, and in their death, they were not 
 divided : they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger 
 than lions. 
 
 4. Ye daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, who clothed 
 you in scarlet, with other delights ; who put on ornaments of 
 gold upon your apparel. How are the mighty fallen in the 
 midst of battle ! 
 
 5. O Jonathan, thou wast slain in thy high places. I am 
 distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan : very pleasant hast 
 thou been unto me ; thy love to me was wonderful, passing 
 the love of women. How are the mighty fallen, and the 
 weapons of war perished ! — 2 Sam. i. 
 
 David's lamentation is the language of deep emotion and sorrow. It 
 should be given with slow time, long quantity, and on a middle key. 
 
 29. Othello's Apology for his Marriage.— Shakspeare. 
 
 1. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, 
 My very noble and approved good masters, 
 That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, 
 It is most true ; true, I have married her ; 
 The very head and front of my offending, 
 Hath this extent, no more. 
 9 
 
98 SELECT PIECES 
 
 2. Rude am I in speech, 
 And little bless' d with the set phrase of peace ; 
 For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, 
 Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us'd 
 Their dearest action in the tented field ; 
 
 And little of this great world can I speak, 
 
 More than pertains to feats of broil and battle ; 
 
 And therefore little shall I grace my cause, 
 
 In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience, 
 
 I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver 
 
 Of my whole course of love ; what drugs, what charms, 
 
 What conjuration, and what mighty magic, 
 
 (For such proceedings I'm charged withal,) 
 
 I won his daughter with. 
 
 3. Her father lov'd me ; oft invited me ; 
 Still questioned me the story of my life, 
 From year to year ; the battles, sieges, fortunes, 
 That I have pass'd. 
 
 I ran it through, even from my boyish days, 
 
 To the very moment that he bade me tell it. 
 
 Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances, 
 
 Of moving accidents, by flood, and field ; 
 
 Of hair-breadth 'scapes in the imminent deadly breach ; 
 
 Of being taken by the insolent foe, 
 
 And sold to slavery ; of my redemption thence, 
 
 And with it, all my travel's history. 
 
 4. These things to hear, 
 Would Desdemona seriously incline : 
 
 But still the house affairs would draw her thence ; 
 Which ever as she could with haste despatch, 
 She'd come again, and with a greedy ear 
 Devour up my discourse : which I observing, 
 Took once a pliant hour ; and found good means 
 To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart, 
 That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, 
 Whereof by parcels she had something heaid, 
 But not attentively. 
 
 5- I did consent ; 
 
 And often did beguile her of her tears, 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 99 
 
 When I did speak of some distressful stroke, 
 
 That my youth suffer'd. My story being done. 
 
 She gave me for my pains a world of sighs ; 
 
 She swore, — -In faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange ; 
 
 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful ; 
 
 She wish'd she had not heard it ; yet she wish'd 
 
 That heaven had made her such a man. 
 
 6. She thank'd me ; 
 
 And bade me if I had a friend that lov'd her, 
 I should teach him how to tell my story 
 And that would woo her. On this hint, I spake ; 
 She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd ; 
 And I lov'd her. that she did pity them. 
 This only is the witchcraft I have us'd. 
 
 The reader is referred to the author's observations relating to Othello in 
 the chapter on emphatic pause. The apology is one of Shakspeare's best 
 efforts. Othello was charged by Brobantio, Desdemona's father, with 
 having " enchanted her," with " drugs," as " a practiser of arts inhibited 
 and out of warrant." Upon that charge, he was apprehended and brought 
 before the duke and senators. The duke inquired of Othello what, on 
 his part, he could say to the charge ; and the apology above given was his 
 answer. It should be read or recited in a pleasant $nd yet animated man- 
 ner. That part of it in which he narrates the scenes through which he 
 passed, requires rather a hurried rate of utterance. Where he says, 
 " Little of this great world can I speak," it is better to make a gentle ges- 
 ture with the right arm, than to extend both. 
 
 30. Cato's Soliloquy on the Immortality op the Soul.- 
 
 Addison. 
 
 1. It must be so. — Plato, thou reasonest well ! 
 Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire. 
 This longing after immortality % 
 Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, 
 Of falling into nought ? Why shrinks the soul 
 Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 
 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us, 
 'Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter 
 And intimates eternity to man. 
 
100 SELECT PIECES 
 
 2. Eternity ! — thou pleasing, dreadful thought ! 
 Through what variety of untried being. 
 
 Through what new scenes and changes must we pass? 
 
 The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me ; 
 
 Here will I hold. If there's a power above us, 
 
 And that there is, all nature cries aloud 
 
 Through all her works, he must delight in virtue ; 
 
 And that which he delights in, must be happy. 
 
 But when 1 or where ? This world was made for CaBsar 
 
 I'm weary of conjectures — this must end 'em. 
 
 3. Thus I am doubly arm'd. My death and life, 
 My bane and antidote, are both before me. 
 This, in a moment, brings me to my end ; 
 But this informs me I shall never die. 
 
 The soul, secure in her existence, smiles 
 At the drawn dagger, and defies its point. 
 The stars shall fade away, the sun himself 
 Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years ; 
 But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth ; 
 Unhurt amid the war of elements, 
 The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds. 
 
 x 5 
 
 Marcus Portius Cato, a distinguished Roman philosopher, general, and 
 patriot, was born 94 years before Christ. After the battle of Pharsalia, | 
 he fled to Utica, in Africa ; and, retiring to his apartment, read Plato on 
 the Immortality of the Soul, twice over, and then, rather than to fall into 
 the hands of Julius Caesar, by whom he was pursued, stabbed himself with 
 his sword, and died at the age of 48. He thought, moreover, that the 
 toils of life would be succeeded by a happy immortality. He ought not, 
 however, to have committed suicide. Socrates was accustomed to say, 
 " That God has put us in this life, as in a post which we cannot quit with- 
 out his leave." If an individual knew that death would be more agreea- 
 ble than life, or that somebody else would take his life, unless he did 
 it himself, even then suicide would not be justifiable. Cato certainly- 
 found nothing in Plato's writings in favor of it. He only found the glo- 
 rious doctrine of the immortality of the soul maintained, by arguments 
 which carried conviction of its truth to his mind. The " Soliloquy " is 
 from the excellant Addison's " Tragedy of Cato." 
 
 Cato is represented, seated, and holding Plato's treatise in his hand. 
 When he says, in the last line of the second verse. 
 
 • " this must end 'em !" 
 
 
 he t.tkes his sword in his right hand. The book should be held in the 
 left, not only in giving this piece, but generally, if not always, in reading. 
 In the elocution of this sublime production, on the great subject of man's 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 101 
 
 immortal destiny, the declaimer, as in other soliloquies, should appear to 
 be unconscious that any body else is present. It should be given with 
 great deliberation, and in the most solemn manner. The inflections, em- 
 phasis, quantity, rate of utterance, and rhetorical pauses, must be such, 
 as will secure the natural expression of intense feeling and grand ideas. 
 The voice and countenance should indicate, that the mind is absorbed in 
 deep contemplation. 
 
 31. Imaginanauy meeting of Satan, Sin, and Death. — Milton. 
 
 1 . Meanwhile the adversary of God and man, 
 Satan, with thoughts inflamed of highest design, 
 Puts on swift wings, and towards the gates of hell, 
 Explores his solitary flight ; sometimes 
 
 He scours the right hand coast, sometimes the left ; 
 Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars 
 Up to the fiery, concave towering high. 
 
 2. As when far off at sea, a fleet descried, 
 Hangs on the cloud, by equinoctial winds 
 Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles 
 
 Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants bring 
 Their spicy drugs ; they, on the trading flood. 
 Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape, 
 Ply, stemming nightly toward the pole ; so seemM 
 Far off, the flying fiend. 
 
 3. At last appear 
 Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof, 
 And thrice three-fold the gates ; three folds were 
 Three iron, three of adamantine rock 
 Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire, 
 Yet unconsumed. 
 
 4. Before the gates there sat, 
 On either side, a formidable shape ; 
 The one seem'd woman to the waist, and fair ; 
 But ended foul in many a scaly fold, 
 Voluminous and vast ; a serpent arm'd 
 With mortal sting ; about her middle round, 
 A cry of hell-hounds never ceasing, bark'd, 
 
 9* 
 
102 . SELECT PIECES 
 
 With wide Cerberian mouths full loud, and rung 
 A hideous peal. 
 
 5. Far less abhor'd than these, 
 Vex'd Scylla, bathing in the sea, that parts 
 Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore ; 
 Nor uglier follow the night hag, when, call'd. 
 In secret, riding through the air she comes, 
 Lured with the smell of infant blood, to dance 
 With Lapland witches, while the laboring moon 
 Eclipses at their charms. 
 
 6. The other shape, 
 If shape it might be call'd, that shape had none. 
 Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb ; 
 
 Or substance might be called, that shadow seem'd, 
 For each seem'd either ; black it stood as night, 
 Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell, 
 And shook a dreadful dart; what seem'd his head, 
 The likeness of a kingly crown had on. 
 
 7. Satan was now at hand, and from his seat 
 The monster moving onward, came as fast 
 With horrid strides ; hell trembled as he strode. 
 The undaunted fiend what this might be, admired ; 
 Admired, not feared ; God and his Son except, 
 Created thing nought valued he, nor shunn'd ; 
 And with disdainful look, thus first began : 
 
 8. " Whence and what art thou, execrable shape ! 
 That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance 
 Thy miscreated front athwart my way 
 
 To yonder gates ? though them I mean to pass. 
 That be assured, without leave ask'd of thee ; 
 Retire or taste thy folly ; and learn by proof, 
 Hell-born! not to contend with spirits of heaven." 
 
 9. To whom the goblin, full of wrath, replied : 
 < ; Art thou the traitor-angel, art thou he 
 
 Who first broke peace in heaven, and faith, till then 
 Unbroken ; and in proud rebellious arms 
 Drew after him, the third part of heaven's sons, 
 Conjured against the Highest; for which both thou. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 103 
 
 And they, out-cast from God, are here condemn'd 
 To waste eternal days in woe and pain ? 
 
 10. And reckon'st thou thyself with spirits of heaven, 
 Hell-doonVd ! and breath'st defiance here and scorn, 
 Where I reign king ; and to enrage thee more, 
 Thy king and lord ? Back to thy punishment. 
 False fugitive ! and to thy speed add wings ; 
 
 Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue 
 
 Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart, 
 
 Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before." 
 
 11. So spake the grisly terror, and in shape 
 
 So speaking and so threatening, grew ten-fold. 
 More dreadful and deform. On the other side, 
 Incensed with indignation, Satan stood 
 Unterrified ; and like a comet burn'd, 
 That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge 
 In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair 
 Shakes pestilence and war. 
 
 12. Each at the head 
 Level'd his deadly aim ; their fatal hands 
 
 No second stroke intend ; and such a frown 
 Each cast at th 5 other, as when two black clouds, 
 With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on 
 Over the Caspian ; then stand front to front, 
 Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow 
 To join their dark encounter, in mid air : 
 
 13. So frowned the mighty combatants, that hell 
 Grew darker at their. frown ; so match'd they stood; 
 For never but once more was either like 
 
 To meet so great a foe. And now great deeds 
 Had been achieved, whereof all hell had rung, 
 Had not the snaky sorceress that sat 
 Fast by hell-gate, and kept the fatal key, 
 Risen, and with hideous outcry, rush'd between. 
 
 In this extract from " Paradise Lost," Milton imagines Satan, Sin, and 
 Death, each of which he personifies, to have met at the gate of hell. It is 
 written with great power, and is well suited to the cultivation of what elo- 
 cutionists call the top of the voice. In reading or reciting it, an individ- 
 
104 SELECT PIECES 
 
 ual should raise his voice to the highest note in his power, especially from 
 the line, " Whence and what art thou," to the one, the language of 
 which, is, " Strange horrors seize thee," &c. The rate of utterance 
 should be rather rapid, and yet not so much so, as to prevent the reader 
 or declaimer from articulating every word correctly, and with distinctness 
 and freedom. 
 
 32. Adam and Eve's Morning Hymn. — Milton. 
 
 1. These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, 
 Almighty ! thine this universal frame, 
 
 Thus wondrous fair ; thyself how wondrous then ! 
 Unspeakable, who sit'st above these heavens, 
 To us invisible, or dimly seen 
 In these thy lowest works ; yet these declare 
 Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine. 
 
 2. Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, 
 Angels ; for ye behold him, and with songs 
 And choral symphonies, day without night, 
 Circle his throne rejoicing ; ye in heaven, 
 On earth, join, all ye creatures, to extol 
 
 Him first, Him last, Him midst, and without end. 
 
 Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, 
 
 If better thou belong not to the dawn, 
 
 Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn 
 
 With thy bright circlet, praise Him in thy sphere, 
 
 While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. 
 
 Thou sun ! of this great world both eye and soul, 
 
 Acknowledge him thy greater ; sound his praise 
 
 In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, 
 
 And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou falPst. 
 
 3. Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fliest 
 With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies; 
 And ye five other wandering fires, that move 
 
 In mystic dance, not without song, resound 
 His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light. 
 Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth 
 Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run 
 Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 105 
 
 And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change, 
 Vary to our great Maker still new praise. 
 
 4. Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise 
 From hill or streaming lake, dusky or gray, 
 Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold 
 In honor to the world's great Author, — rise, 
 Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolor'd sky, 
 Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers; 
 Rising or falling, still advance His praise. 
 
 5. His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow, 
 Breathe soft or loud ; and wave your tops, ye pines, 
 With every plant, in sign of worship wave. 
 Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow, 
 Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. 
 Join voices, all ye living souls. Ye birds, 
 
 That singing up to heaven's gate ascend, 
 
 Bear on your wings, and in your notes, His praise. 
 
 6. Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk 
 The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep ; 
 Witness if I be silent, morn or even, 
 
 To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade, 
 Made vocal by my song, and taught His praise. 
 Hail universal Lord ! be bounteous still, 
 To give us only good ; and if the night 
 Have gathered aught of evil, or conceal'd, 
 Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark. 
 
 This hymn which the great poet attributes to Adam and Eve, and in 
 which he personifies various inanimate objects, and calls upon them to 
 "join voices " in praise of the Supreme Being, is most admirably written. 
 Whoever reads this sublime piece of poetry, cannot otherwise than have 
 strongly impressed upon his attention, the beauty and grandeur, both in 
 thought and composition, with which it abounds. Its elocution requires 
 a middle key, slow time, and long quantity. 
 
106 SELECT PIECES 
 
 33. Speech of Cassius, instigating Brutus to join the Con- 
 spiracy against Cesar. — Shakspeare. 
 
 1. Well, honor is the subject of my story. 
 I cannot tell what you, and other men, 
 Think of this life ; but for my single self, 
 I had as lief not be, as live to be 
 
 In awe of such a thing, as I myself. 
 
 2. I was born as free as Caesar ; so were you ; 
 We both have fed as well ; and we can both 
 Endure the winter's cold as well as he ; 
 For once, upon a raw and gusty day, 
 
 The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, 
 
 Caesar said to me : Dar'st thou, Cassius, now 
 
 Leap in with me into this angry flood, 
 
 And swim to yonder point? Upon my word, 
 
 Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, 
 
 And bade him follow ; so. indeed, he did. 
 
 3. The torrent roared ; and we did buffet it 
 With lusty sinews ; throwing it aside, 
 And stemming it with hearts of controversy, 
 But ere we could arrive at the point proposed, 
 Caesar cried, Help me, Cassius, or I sink. 
 
 4. I, as iEneas, our great ancestor, 
 
 Did, from the flames of Troy, upon his shoulder, 
 
 The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber, 
 
 Did 1 the tired Caesar ; and this man 
 
 Is now become a god ; and Cassius is 
 
 A wretched creature, and must bend his body, 
 
 If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. 
 
 5. He had a fever when he was in Spain, 
 And, when the fit was on him, I did mark 
 
 I low he did shake : 'tis true, this god did shake: 
 
 His coward lips did from their color fly; 
 
 And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, 
 
 1 Hi lose its lustre: I did hear him groan: 
 
 Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 107 
 
 Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, 
 Alas ! it cried, Give me some drink, Titinius, 
 As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me, 
 A man of such a feeble temper should 
 So get the start of the majestic world, 
 And bear the palm alone ! 
 The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, 
 But in ourselves, that we are underlings. 
 
 6. Brutus and Caesar ; what should be in that Caesar % 
 Why should that name be sounded more than yours? 
 Write them together, yours is as fair a name ; 
 Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well ; 
 Weigh them, it is as heavy ; conjure them, 
 
 Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar. 
 
 7. Now, in the names of all the gods at once, 
 Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, 
 
 That he has grown so great? Age, thou art sham'd ; 
 Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods ! 
 When went there by an age, since the great flood, 
 But it was famed with more than with one man ? 
 When could they say, till now, that talk'd of Rome, 
 That her wide walls encompass'd but one man ? 
 
 8. Oh ! you and I have heard our fathers say 
 
 There was a Brutus, once, that would have brook'd 
 The infernal devil to keep his state in Rome, 
 As easily as a king. 
 
 Caius Cassius, a brave Roman general, who, through envy to Julius 
 Caesar, headed a conspiracy against him, and aided in his assassination, 
 caused one of his slaves to kill him, 42 years before Christ. Cassius' speech 
 thould be rhetorically given. 
 
 34. Brutus' Oration on the Death of Cesar. — Shakspeare. 
 
 1. Romans, countrymen, and lovers ! hear me for my cause ; 
 and be silent, that ye may hear : believe me for mine honor ; 
 ■md have respect to mine honor, that you may believe : cen» 
 
108 SELECT PIECES 
 
 sure me in your wisdom ; and awake your senses 3 that you 
 may the better judge. 
 
 2. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of 
 Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less 
 than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against 
 Caesar, this is my answer : Not that I loved Caesar less, but 
 that I loved Rome more. 
 
 3. Had you rather Caesar were living, and die all slaves ; 
 than that Caesar were dead, to live all freemen ? As Caesar 
 loved me, I weep for him ; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at 
 it ; as he was valiant, I honor him ; but, as he was ambitious, 
 I slew him. 
 
 4. There are tears, for his love ; joy, for his fortune ; honor, 
 for his valor ; and death for his ambition. Who is here so 
 base, that he would be a bondman % If any, speak ; for him 
 have I offended. Who is here so rude, that would not be a 
 Roman % If any, speak ; for him have I offended. Who is 
 here so vile, that will not love his country ? If any, speak j 
 for him have I offended. I pause for a reply. 
 
 5. None ! Then none have I offended. I have done no 
 more to Caesar, than you should do to Brutus. The question 
 of his death is enrolled in the Capitol ; his glory not extenu- 
 ated, wherein he was worthy ; nor his offences enforced, for 
 which he suffered death. 
 
 6. Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony ; who/ 
 though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit 
 of his dying, a place in the commonwealth ; as which of you 
 shall not ? With this I depart ; that as I slew iny best lover 
 for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when 
 it shall please my country to need my death. 
 
 Marcus Brutus, whom Cassius made the dupe of his flattery and art, 
 and who joined the conspiracy against Caesar, his best and most intimate 
 friend, after the assassination which occurred in the senate house, in the 
 5Gth year of Caesar's age, and in which " he had a hand," fell upon his 
 own sword, and died 42 years before Christ. Caesar's ambition was bound- 
 less ; but he ought not to have " suffered death." Aside from this act of 
 baseness and ingratitude, Brutus seems to have been an honorable Roman. 
 The elocution of this oration,. requires alow key, slow time, and long quan- 
 tity. It is c.isy to sec, that rhetorical pauses should be made, after uttering 
 the; words "Cesar," and "Rome," where the orator says — "Not that I 
 loved Cesar...less, but that I loved Rome... more." 
 
 Lei the reader or declaimer imagine, that he is addressing a popular and 
 turbulent assembly, on a solemn occasion, in the open air; and then, he 
 can easily give voice and expression to the language of Brutus. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 109 
 
 35. Antony's Oration over Cesar's Body. — Shakspeare. 
 
 1. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears: 
 I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. 
 
 The evil that men do, lives after them ; 
 The good is oft interred with their bones : 
 So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus 
 Hath told you, Caesar was ambitious : 
 If it were so, it was a grievous fault ; 
 And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it. 
 
 2. Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest, 
 (For Brutus is an honorable man ; 
 
 So are they all ; all honorable men,) 
 Come I to speak at Caesar's funeral. . 
 He was my friend, faithful and just to me : 
 But Brutus says he was ambitious ; 
 And Brutus is an honorable man. 
 
 3. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, 
 Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill : 
 
 *Did this in Caesar seem ambitious ? 
 When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept ; 
 Ambition should be made of sterner stuff; 
 Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ; 
 And Brutus is an honorable man. 
 
 4. You all did see, that on the Lupercal, 
 I thrice presented him a kingly crown, 
 
 Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition ? 
 
 Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ; 
 
 And sure, he is an honorable man. 
 
 I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke ; 
 
 But here I am to speak what I do know. 
 
 5. You all did love him once, not without cause ; 
 What cause withholds you then to mourn for him? 
 O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, 
 
 And men have lost their reason ! — Bear with me ; 
 My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, 
 And I must pause till it come back to me. 
 10 
 
110 
 
 SELECT PIECES 
 
 6. But yesterday, the word of Caesar might 
 
 ' Have stood against the world : now lies he there, 
 And none so poor to do him reverence. 
 
 masters ! if I were dispos'd to stir 
 
 Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, 
 
 1 should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, 
 Who, you all know, are honorable men: 
 
 I will not do them wrong ; I rather choose 
 To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you, 
 Than I will wrong such honorable men. 
 
 7. But here's a parchment,, with the seal of Caesar, 
 I found it in his closet, 'tis his will ; 
 
 Let but the commons hear this testament, 
 (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,) 
 And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, 
 And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; 
 Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, 
 And, dying, mention it within their wills, 
 Bequeathing it as a rich legacy, 
 Unto their issue. 
 
 8. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. 
 You all do know this mantle ; I remember 
 The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 
 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent ; 
 That day he overcame the Nervii. — 
 
 Look ! in this place, ran Cassius' dagger through ; 
 See ! what a rent the envious Casca made ; 
 Through this, the well beloved Brutus stabb'd ; 
 And, as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, 
 Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it. 
 
 9. This was the most unkindest cut of all ; 
 For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, 
 Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms, 
 Quite vanquished him ; then burst his mighty heart ; 
 And, in his mantle muffling up his face, 
 Even at the base of Pompey's statue, 
 Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar felL 
 
 1 0. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! 
 Then I, and you, and ail of us fell down, 
 
FOR EXERCISES. Ill 
 
 Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. 
 O, now you weep ; and, I perceive, you feel 
 The dint of pity ; these are gracious drops. 
 Kind souls, what ! weep you, when you but behold 
 Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here ! 
 Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, by traitors. 
 
 1 1. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up 
 To such a sudden flood of mutiny. 
 
 They that have done this deed, are honorable ; 
 What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, 
 That made them do it ; they were wise and honorable, 
 And will, no doubt, with reason answer you. 
 
 12. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts ; 
 I am no orator, as Brutus is ; 
 
 But as you know me all, a plain, blunt man, 
 
 That love my friend ; and that they know full well, 
 
 That gave me public leave to speak of him. 
 
 13. For I have neither wit, nor w r ords, nor worth, 
 Action, nor utterance, nor power of speech, 
 To stir men's blood ; I only speak right on : 
 
 I tell you that, which you yourselves do know ; 
 
 Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths, 
 
 And bid them speak for me. But were I Brutus, 
 
 And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony 
 
 Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue 
 
 In every wound of Caesar, that should move 
 
 The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny. 
 
 Marcus Antony, a brave and unprincipled Roman, who, for the purpose 
 of elevating himself to power, procured a public funeral for Caesar, in favor 
 of whom, the above oration which he made, so much inflamed the popu- 
 lace against the conspirators, that they were obliged to leave the city, or 
 fall into the hands of the other members of the triumvirate. He after- 
 wards went to Egypt, where through love to Glueen Cleopatra, he termi- 
 nated his own existence, 30 years before Christ. 
 
 The oration is highly rhetorical. A portion of it requires a high key, 
 some parts of it a low, others, a middle key. The reader or declaimer 
 must both understand its sentiments and feel as if they were his own. 
 He should imagine himself to be delivering a discourse at the funeral of a 
 beloved friend who had been murdered. The pathetic portion of the 
 speech, requires quantity, slow time, and rhetorical pauses. What is said 
 of it, in the chapter on Irony, particularly of the epithet, "honorable men," 
 
112 SELECT PIECES 
 
 ■which Antony repeatedly applies to Caesar's murderers, renders it unne- 
 cessary to prolong this note. There is no better piece in our language, 
 for an elocutionary exercise. 
 
 36. The Burial of Sir John Moore. — Wolfe. 
 
 1. Not a drum was heard, nor a funeral note, 
 
 As his corse o'er the ramparts we hurried ; 
 Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot, 
 O'er the grave where our hero we buried. 
 
 2. We buried him darkly at dead of night, 
 
 The sod with our bayonets turning, 
 By the trembling moonbeams' misty light, 
 And our lantern dimly burning. 
 
 3. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, 
 
 Nor in sheet nor in shroud we bound him ; 
 But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, 
 With his martial cloak around him. 
 
 4. Few and short were the prayers we said — 
 
 We spoke not a word of sorrow ; v 
 
 But steadfastly gaz'd on the face of the dead, 
 And bitterly thought of the morrow. 
 
 5. We thought as we hollow'd his narrow bed, 
 
 And smooth'd down his lowly pillow, 
 That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head. 
 And we, far away o'er the billow. 
 
 6. Lightly they'll speak of the spirit that's gone, 
 
 And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; 
 But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on, 
 In the grave where his comrades have laid him. 
 
 7. Not the half of our heavy task was done 
 
 When the bell toll'd the hour for retiring; 
 And we knew by the distant, random gun, 
 That the foe was then suddenly firing. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 113 
 
 8. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, 
 
 From the field of his fame, fresh and gory ; 
 We carv'd not a line, we rais'd not a stone, 
 But left him alone — in his glory. 
 
 The " Burial of Sir John Moore " requires a low key, slow time, and 
 long quantity. 
 
 37. Last Words of Robert Emmet. 
 
 1. If the spirits of the illustrious dead participate in the con- 
 cerns and cares of those who were dear to them in this transi- 
 tory life, O, ever dear and venerated shade of my departed 
 father^ look down with scrutiny upon the conduct of your 
 suffering son ; and see if I have, even for a moment, deviated 
 from those principles of morality and patriotism which it was 
 your care to instil into my youthful mind, and for which I am 
 now to offer up my life. 
 
 2. My lords, you seem impatient for the sacrifice — the 
 blood which you seek, is not congealed by the artificial terrors 
 which surround your victim ; it circulates w r armly and unruf- 
 fled, through the channels which God created for noble pur- 
 poses, but which you are bent to destroy for purposes so 
 grievous, that they cry to heaven. Be yet patient ! I have 
 but a few words more to say. I am going to my cold and 
 silent grave — my lamp of life is nearly extinguished — my 
 race is run — the grave opens to receive me, and I sink into its 
 bosom ! 
 
 3. I have but one request to ask at my departure from this 
 world, — it is the charity of its silence. Let no man write my 
 epitaph ; for as no man who knows my motives, dare now 
 vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. 
 Let them and me repose in obscurity and peace, and my tomb 
 remain uninscribed, until other times, and other men, can do 
 justice to my character. When my country takes her place 
 among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my 
 epitaph be written. 
 
 The above extract is the concluding part of the speech of Robert Em- 
 met, Esq., a distinguished Irish orator and patriot, before Lord Norbury, 
 of England, on an indictment for high treason. He was condemned before 
 10* 
 
114 SELECT PIECES 
 
 he was tried ; and, under the combined influence of prejudice and tyranny, 
 he was executed in the year 1803. The extract from his last speech, here 
 given, requires quantity in its elocution. 
 
 38. Lines relating to Curran's Daughter. — Thomas Moore, 
 
 1. She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps, 
 And lovers around her are sighing; 
 But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, / 
 For her heart in his grave is lying. 
 
 2/She sings the wild song of her dear native plains, 
 Every note which he lov'd awaking — 
 Ah ! little they think, who delight in her strains, 
 How the heart of the minstrel is breaking. 
 
 3. He had liv'd for his love — for his country he died ; 
 
 They were all that to life had entwin'd him — 
 Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, 
 Nor long will his love stay behind him. 
 
 4. Oh ! make her a grave where the sunbeams rest, 
 
 When they promise a glorious morrow ; 
 They'll shine o'er her sleep like a smile from the west, 
 From her own lov'd island of sorrow. 
 
 "Love, like life, has no second spring." As Mr. Fowler, a phrenolo- 
 gist, in his writings on matrimony, elegantly and philosophically, observes : 
 " Let love be checked or hfcgnted in its first pure emotion, and the beauty 
 of its spring is irrecoverably withered and lost. It may yet retain the glory 
 of its summer, but the dew of its youth has vanished, never to return. 
 The fruits of its autumn may be enjoyed, but the flower of its primrose has 
 faded away, never to blossom again." 
 
 Curran was greatly distinguished in Ireland, both as a lawyer and ora- 
 tor. His daughter was engaged to be married to Robert Emmet, whose 
 fat.- produced " a deep impression on public sympathy," and especially upon 
 the bear! of bis betrothed. The evening before his death, she had an af- 
 fecting interview with him in his dungeon. As a parting token of at- 
 tachment, be gave ber a little miniature of himself, and besought her not 
 to forget him. Immediately after his execution, she left Ireland and went 
 to Italy, where she died broken hearted. "The Broken Heart," written 
 by Washington Irving, is founded upon these circumstances. He says: 
 

 FOR EXERCISES. H5 
 
 " She wasted away in a slow and hopeless decline, and at length, sank into 
 the grave, the victim of a broken heart !" 
 
 The appropriateness, beauty, and tenderness of these pathetic lines, 
 Written by the celebrated Irish poet, will give them a passport to all coun- 
 tries, and to every heart. They should be read or recited on a very low 
 key, with slow time, long quantity, and rhetorical pauses. Such a pause 
 should be made after uttering the first word. 
 
 39. The Temperance Reformation, a Harbinger of the 
 ;^l^ Millennium. — Rev. Dr. Sprague. 
 
 1. Ages have gone by, since the fact was revealed in the 
 predictions of inspired men, that there shall ere long dawn 
 upon the church, while her residence is yet on the earth, a day 
 of triumph and jubilee, — a period in which her light and glo- 
 ry shall fill the world. To this period she has been looking 
 forward amidst all the oppression, and darkness, and conflicts, 
 to which she has been subject; keeping an eye out continually 
 upon the signs of the times, to see if there were any thing that 
 betokened the dawn of millennial glory. 
 
 2. In these later years there have been streaks of light seen 
 purpling the distant horizon, and the light has been gradually 
 increasing in brightness, until it is now with most christians 
 no longer a question, whether it is not the beginning of that 
 which will terminate in the " perfect day." No, it is not 
 enthusiasm to imagine that we are standing at this moment ori 
 the margin of the latter day glory ; and that the church will 
 soon strike up, in loud and thrilling hosannas, her song of 
 millennial joy. 
 
 3. Who that looks abroad upon the world and surveys the 
 moral machinery that is now in operation, can doubt that we 
 are fairly brought to this cheering and triumphant conclusion % 
 And who that looks at the progress and present state of the 
 temperance cause, — at the strength which it has gained in 
 this nation, and which it is gaining in other nations, and at 
 the increasing rapidity and majesty with which it moves 
 forward, — who can let his eye rest upon all this, without being 
 full in the conviction, that this very cause is at once a har- 
 binger of the millennium, and destined to be one of the most 
 efficient means of its introduction ? 
 
 4 That blessed period is to be characterized by the universal 
 
116 SELECT PIECES 
 
 prevalence of good order, of social happiness, of the influence 
 of evangelical truth and piety. Say then whether the tem- 
 perance cause can prevail without lending a mighty influence 
 towards this glorious result? Take out of the world all the 
 misery of which intemperance is either directly or indirectly 
 the cause, and the change would be so great, that for a mo- 
 ment you would almost forget that the earth was still in any 
 degree, laboring under the original curse. 
 
 5. Take away all the vice and the crime with which intem- 
 perance is identified or connected, and it would almost seem 
 as if the " holy Jerusalem had descended out of heaven" to 
 dwell with men. Limit your views to a single neighborhood 
 or a single city, and suppose intemperance to be entirely ban- 
 ished, and imagine the greatness of the change ; and then ex- 
 tend your views all over this great nation, and this wide world, 
 and in each case, suppose the temperance reformation to have 
 become universal, and to have done its perfect w T ork, and say 
 whether its direct influence in bringing forward the millenni- 
 um does not far exceed your most vivid conceptions. 
 
 6. But it exerts also an indirect influence towards the same 
 result. One grand reason why the millennium is delayed, is 
 that the church cannot command the means necessary for 
 sending the gospel among all the nations. There is wealth 
 enough in the world, but hitherto it has to a great extent 
 been applied to other purposes than that of fulfilling the Re- 
 deemer's command, to carry abroad his gospel ; and one of 
 these purposes has been to extend the triumphs of this demon 
 Intemperance. • 
 
 7. And now as the monster is becoming chained, he cannot 
 to the same extent, waste those treasures which God meant 
 for the advancement of his cause; and as he becomes tame 
 and powerless, and finally writhes in his last convulsions, he 
 will leave to the church, not because he desires to do it, but 
 because he cannot do otherwise, the almost boundless resources 
 from which he has been accustomed to draw the means of his 
 malignant triumph. 
 
 8. Men who were once drunkards, but have been reformed, 
 instead of devoting their property to the work of self-destruc- 
 tion, will consecrate it to the service and honor of the Re- 
 deemer. Talents and influence too, which had 'been worse 
 than lost, will be reclaimed for the use of the church. Who 
 will not say, " Success, honor, and glory to a cause which is to 
 

 FOR EXERCISES. ][7 
 
 result, which has already resulted in such wonderful achieve- 
 ments !" 
 
 9. Christians, is it not part of almost every prayer you offer, 
 that God will soon open upon the world the millennial day ? 
 Are you acting in consistency with your prayers, by lending 
 your influence to help forward this glorious cause of moral 
 improvement, which must prevail ere the millennium shall 
 fully come ? Are you exerting any influence, directly or re- 
 motely, to retard this cause ? Do you make the poison, or do 
 you use it, or do you sell it? Never open your lips then to 
 pray for the millennium. If the millennium should really come, 
 it would ruin your business for ever ! 
 
 These observations from the Rev. W. B. Sprague, of Albany, will be 
 likely to convince eveiy unprejudiced mind that the suppression of intem- 
 perance must precede the approach of the millennium. 
 
 When that happy period arrives there will be no intemperance, — no evil 
 of any kind. Temperance societies took their origin among the American 
 people, in the year 1326. During the intervening period, it has been 
 found, that those great principles of self application which it was the chief 
 object of our Savior to illustrate and recommend on earth, have power, not 
 only to prevent men from becoming intemperate, but also, through the law 
 of kindness, to reclaim drunkards themselves. Animated by the hope of 
 doing good, such men as R. Hyde Walworth, Edward C. Delavan, Gerrit 
 Smith, B. P. Johnson, Stephen Van Rensselaer, William B. Sprague, 
 George R. Davis, Gen. A. W. Riley, James Harper, Theodore Frehng- 
 huysen, Lewis Cass, William Slade, Justin Edwards, George N. Briggs, 
 and Dr. Beecher, early espoused the noble cause of temperance, and their 
 efforts to promote it, together with the exertions of their coadjutors have 
 been crowned with great success. " Light and knowledge have been 
 spread far and wide," by holding meetings, forming societies, and publish- 
 ing papers, devoted exclusively to the cause of temperance, — a cause upon 
 which, it is believed, " the smiles of angels, and of the God of angels rest." 
 Foreign countries will yet, in imitation of our example, unfurl the tempe- 
 rance banner. Even now, Great Britain, Scotland, Sweden, Germany, 
 Switzerland, and Ireland, behold the light of tins great reform, and mill- 
 ions of our fellow beings are preparing to walk in its morning effulgence. 
 
 40. Declaration of Independence. — Thomas Jefferson. 
 
 1. When, in the course of human events, it becomes neces- 
 sary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have 
 connected them with another, and to assume, among the pow- 
 ers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the 
 
118 SELECT PIECES 
 
 laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent re 
 spect to the opinions of mankind, requires that they should 
 declare the causes which impel them to the separation. 
 
 2. We hold these truths to be self-evident : — that all men 
 are created equal ; that they are endowed by their Creator 
 with certain inalienable rights ; that among these are life, 
 liberty, and the pursuit of happiness ; 
 
 3. That, to secure these rights, governments are instituted 
 among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the 
 governed ; that whenever any form of government becomes 
 destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter 
 or to abolish it, and to institute a new government, laying its 
 foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in 
 such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their 
 safety and happiness. 
 
 4. Prudence, indeed, will dictate, that governments long 
 established, should not be changed for light and transient 
 causes ; and accordingly, all experience hath shown, that man- 
 kind are more disposed to suffer while evils are sufferable, 
 than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they 
 are accustomed. 
 
 5. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursu- 
 ing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them 
 under absolute despotism ; it is their right, it is their duty, to 
 throw off such government, and to provide new guards for 
 their future security. Such has been the patient sufferance 
 of these colonies ; and such is now the necessity which con- 
 strains them to alter their former system of government. 
 
 6. The history of the present king of Great Britain, is a 
 history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having, in di- 
 rect object, the establishment of an absolute tyranny over 
 these States. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid 
 world. 
 
 7. He has refused his assent to laws the most wholesome 
 and necessary for the public good. 
 
 8. He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate 
 and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operations, 
 till his assent should be obtained ; and, when so suspended, 
 he has utterly neglected to attend to them. 
 
 l J. He has refused to pass other laws for the accommodation 
 of large districts of people, unless those people would relin- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 119 
 
 quish the right of representation in the legislature, — a right 
 inestimable to them, and formidable to tyrants only. 
 
 10. He has called together legislative bodies at places un- 
 usual, uncomfortable, and distant from the repository of their 
 public records, for' the sole purpose of fatiguing them into com- 
 pliance with his measures. 
 
 11. He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for 
 opposing, with manly firmness, his invasions on the rights of 
 the people. 
 
 12. He has refused, for a long time after such dissolutions, 
 to cause others to be elected : whereby the legislative powers, 
 incapable of annihilation, have returned to the people at large, 
 for their exercise ; the State remaining in the mean time ex- 
 posed to all the danger of invasion from without and convul- 
 sions within. 
 
 13. He has endeavored to prevent the population of these 
 States ; for that purpose obstructing the laws for the naturali- 
 zation of foreigners ; refusing to pass others to encourage their 
 migration hither ; and raising the conditions of new appropria- 
 tions of lands. 
 
 14. He has obstructed the administration of justice, by re- 
 fusing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary powers. 
 
 15. He has made judges dependant on his will alone, for 
 he tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of 
 heir salaries. 
 
 16. He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent here 
 swarms of officers to harass our people, and eat out their sub- 
 stance. 
 
 17. He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing ar- 
 mies, without the consent of our legislatures. 
 
 18. He has affected to render the military independent of, 
 and superior to, the civil power. 
 
 19. He has combined with others, to subject us to a ju- 
 risdiction, foreign to our constitution^ and unacknowledged 
 hy our laws ; giving his assent to their acts of pretended legis- 
 lation ; 
 
 20. For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us ; 
 
 21. For protecting them, by a mock trial, from punishment, 
 for any murder they should commit on the inhabitants of 
 these States ; 
 
 22. For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world ; 
 
 23. For imposing taxes on us without our consent j 
 
120 SELECT PIECES 
 
 24. For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of trial 
 
 by i ur y ; 
 
 25. For transporting us beyond the seas, to be tried for pre- 
 tended offences ; 
 
 26. For abolishing the free system of English laws in a 
 neighboring province, establishing therein an arbitrary gov- 
 ernment, and enlarging its boundaries, so as to render it at 
 once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same 
 absolute rule into these colonies ; 
 
 27. For taking away our charters, abolishing our most 
 valuable laws, and altering fundamentally the forms of our 
 governments ; 
 
 28. For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring 
 themselves invested with power to legislate for us, in all cases 
 whatsoever. 
 
 29. He has abdicated government here, by declaring us out 
 of his protection, and waging war against us. 
 
 30. He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt 
 our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people. 
 
 31. He is, at this time, transporting large armies of foreign 
 mercenaries, to complete the work of death, desolation and ty- 
 ranny, already begun, with circumstances of cruelty and per- 
 fidy, scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally 
 unworthy the head of a civilized nation. 
 
 32. He has constrained our fellow citizens, taken captive 
 on the high seas, to bear arms against their country, to become 
 the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to fall them- 
 selves by their hands. 
 
 33. He has excited domestic insurrections among us, and 
 has endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, 
 the merciless Indian savages, w T hose known rule of warfare 
 is an undistinguished destruction of ail ages, sexes, and con- 
 ditions. 
 
 34. In every stage of these oppressions, we have petitioned 
 for redress in the most humble terms. Our repeated petitions 
 have been answered only by repeated injury. 
 
 35. A prince, whose character is thus marked by every 
 act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free 
 people. 
 
 3G. Nor have we been wanting in attentions to our British 
 brethren. We have warned them, from time to time, of at- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 121 
 
 tempts made by their legislature, to extend an unwarrantable 
 jurisdiction over us. 
 
 37. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our 
 emigration and settlement here. 
 
 38. We have appealed to their native justice and magna- 
 nimity ; and we have conjured them by the ties of our com- 
 mon kindred, to disavow these usurpations, which would 
 inevitably interrupt our connexions and correspondence. 
 
 39. They, too, have been deaf to the voice of justice and 
 consanguinity. We must therefore acquiesce in the necessity 
 which denounces our separation ; and hold them, as we hold 
 the rest of mankind, — enemies in war ; in peace, friends. 
 
 40. We, therefore, the representatives of the United States 
 i of America, in General Congress assembled, appealing to the 
 
 Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, 
 
 < do, in the name and by the authority of the good people of 
 these colonies, solemnly publish and declare, that these United 
 
 : Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent 
 States ; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the 
 
 j, British crown ; and that all political connexion between them 
 and the State of Great Britain is, and ought to be totally dis- 
 
 | solved ; and that as free and independent States, they have full 
 power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, estab- 
 lish commerce, and to do all other acts and things which in- 
 dependent States may of right do. 
 
 41. And for the support of this declaration, with a firm 
 reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually 
 pledge to each other, our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred 
 honor. 
 
 The " Declaration of Independence " was unanimously adopted at Phil- 
 adelphia, by the representatives of the (theii) u Thirteen United Colonies 
 of America," in congress assembled, July 4th, 1776. In early life, Thomas 
 Jefferson, by whom the Declaration was written, " swore eternal hatred to 
 every form of tyranny over the mind of man." The eloquence of the 
 Declaration, consists chiefly in its severe and sublime simplicity. It con- 
 tains a bare recital of facts and self-evident truths. The subject to which 
 it relates, and the circumstances under which it was adopted, were too 
 serious for rhetoric. Any attempt at eloquence would have been alto- 
 gether out of place. The occasion itself, forming as it does, the most im- 
 portant epoch in the history of nations, was full of eloquence. The paper 
 is just what it ought to be, a declaration of the imprescriptible rights of 
 man. " Independence Hall " still remains. When at Philadelphia, a few 
 years since, the writer visited the consecrated " Hall." Long may it 
 stand - r for, whenever American citizens, ee^eciallv those who are the im- 
 11 
 
122 
 
 SELECT PIECES 
 
 mediate descendants of the veterans of the revolution, visit it, they will be 
 reminded, as he was of the great obligations of gratitude which we owe 
 to our political fathers. The " Hall of Independence " will, however, ere 
 long be mutilated, and ultimately destroyed by the rude hand of time. 
 But the following names of the signers of the Declaration, and all who 
 cooperated with °them, in conducting the American revolution to a suc- 
 cessful issue, will live for ever ; for virtue and truth are immortal. 
 John Hancock, John Witherspoon, Charles Carroll of Car- 
 
 Josiah Bartlett, Francis Hopkinson, rollton, 
 
 William Whipple, John Hart, George Wythe, 
 
 Abraham Clark, 
 
 Robert Morris, 
 
 Benjamin Rush, 
 
 Benjamin Franklin, 
 
 John Morton, 
 
 George Clymer, 
 
 James Smith, 
 
 George Taylor, 
 
 James Wilson, 
 
 George Ross, 
 
 Caesar Rodney, 
 
 George Read, 
 
 Thomas M'Kean, 
 
 Samuel Chase, 
 
 William Paca, 
 
 Thomas Stone, 
 
 The Declaration is read at our celebrations on each returning anniver- 
 sary of the independence of the United States, in nearly all our cities and 
 villages ; but we all know, that it is not always well read. In reading it, 
 great pains should be taken to avoid errors in articulation. The rate of 
 utterance should not be very rapid, nor very slow. The style should be 
 colloquial, and yet animated and manly. 
 
 Matthew Thornton, 
 Samuel Adams, 
 John Adams, 
 Robert Treat Paine, 
 Elbridge Gerry, 
 Stephen Hopkins, 
 William Ellery, 
 Roger Sherman, 
 Samuel Huntington, 
 William Williams, 
 Oliver Wolcott, 
 William Floyd, 
 Philip Livingston, 
 Francis Lewis, 
 Lewis Morris, 
 Richard Stockton, 
 
 Richard Henry Lee, 
 Thomas Jefferson, 
 Benjamin Harrison, 
 Thomas Nelson, jun. 
 Francis Lightfoot Lee, 
 Carter Braxton, 
 William Hooper, 
 Joseph HeweSj 
 John Penn, 
 Edward Rutledge, 
 Thomas Heyward, jun. 
 Thomas Lynch, jun. 
 Arthur Middleton, 
 Button Gwinnett, * 
 Lyman Hall, 
 George Walton. 
 
 41. Patriotic Speech on the question of War with Eng- 
 land. — Patrick Henry. 
 
 1. Mr. President: — It is natural for man to indulge in the 
 illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a pain- 
 ful truth, and listen to the song of that syren, till she trans- 
 forms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged 
 in a greiit and arduous struggle for liberty ? Are we disposed 
 to be of the number of those, who, having eyes, see not, and 
 having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern 
 their temporal salvation ? For my part, whatever anguish of 
 spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to 
 know the tvorst, and to provide for it. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 123 
 
 2. I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided ; and 
 that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging 
 of the future, but by the past. And, judging by the past, I 
 wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the 
 British ministry for the last ten years, to justify those hopes 
 with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves 
 and the house. Is it that insidious smile with which our peti- 
 tion has been lately received ? Trust it not, sir ; it will prove 
 a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed 
 with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of 
 our petition, comports with those warlike preparations which 
 cover, our waters, and darken our land. 
 
 3. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and 
 reconciliation ? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be 
 reconciled, that force must be called in to win back our love? 
 Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements 
 of war and subjugation — the last arguments to which kings 
 resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, 
 if its purpose be not to force us to submission ? Can gentlemen 
 assign any other possible motive for it ? Has Great Britain any 
 enemy in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumu- 
 lation of navies and armies ? No, sir, she has none. They 
 are meant for us : they can be meant for no other. They are 
 sent over to bind and rivet upon us, those chains which the 
 British ministry have been so long forging. 
 
 4. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try ar- 
 gument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. 
 Have we any thing new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. 
 We have held the subject up in every light of which it is 
 capable ; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to en- 
 treaty and humble supplication ? — What terms shall we find, 
 which have not been already exhausted ? Let us not, I beseech 
 you, deceive ourselves longer. 
 
 5. Sir, we have done every thing that could be done, to 
 ivert the storm which is now coming on. We have peti- 
 tioned, — we have remonstrated, — we have supplicated, — we 
 have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have im- 
 plored its interposition, to arrest the tyrannical hands of the 
 ministry and parliament. Our petitions have been slighted, — 
 our remonstrances have produced additional violence and in- 
 sult, — our supplications have been disregarded, — and we have 
 been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne. 
 
j 24 SELECT PIECES 
 
 6. In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope 
 of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for 
 hove. If we wish to be free — if we mean to preserve inviolate 
 those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long 
 contending — if we mean not basely to abandon the noble 
 struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which 
 we have pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the glorious 
 object of our contest shall be obtained,— we must fight! I re- 
 peat it, sir — we must fight ! ! An appeal to arms and to/ the 
 God of hosts, is all that is left us ! 
 
 7. They tell us, sir, that we are weak — unable to cope with 
 so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger ? 
 Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when 
 we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be sta- 
 tioned in every house ? Shall we gather strength by irreso- 
 lution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual 
 resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the 
 delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound 
 us hand and foot ? Sir, we are not weak, if we make a 
 proper use of those means which the God of nature hath 
 placed in our power. 
 
 8. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of lib- 
 erty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are in- 
 vincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. 
 Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a 
 ^ust God, who presides over the destinies of nations, and who 
 will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. 
 
 9. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone ; it is to the 
 vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no elec- 
 tion. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late 
 to retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in submis- 
 sion and slavery ! Our chains are forged ! Their clanking 
 may be heard on the plains of Boston ! The war is inevitable — 
 and let it come ! I repeat it, sir, let it come ! ! 
 
 10. It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen 
 may cry peace, peace, — but there is no peace. The war is 
 actually begun ! The next gale that sweeps from the north, 
 will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms ! Our 
 brethren are already in the field ! Why stand we here idle ? 
 What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? 
 Is lift; so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price 
 of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know 
 
FOR EXERCISES. , 125 
 
 x not what course others may take ; but as for me, give me 
 liberty r , or give me — death 
 
 This speech of Patrick Henry, was made in the spring of 1775, before 
 the convention of delegates from the several counties of Virginia. The 
 subject upon which he spoke, being a question of freedom or slavery, called 
 into active and irrepressible operation, all the energies of his nature. The 
 matter which the speech contains is so excellent, and the manner in which 
 it was delivered, was so eloquent, that "it made the prince tremble on his 
 distant throne, and shook the brightest jewels from the British crown." 
 Mr. Henry was decidedly the greatest orator of the revolution. He was 
 so critical an observer of the workings of the human passions, that he has 
 been justly styled " nature's own orator." His manner of speaking was 
 distinguished by that best gift of an orator, earnestness. He knew that, 
 as Horace says: 
 
 " With them who laugh our social joy appears ; 
 With them who mourn we sympathize in tears ; 
 If you would have me weep, begin the strain, 
 Then I shall feel your sorrows, feel your pain ; 
 But if your heroes act not what they say, 
 I sleep or laugh the lifeless scene away," 
 
 To obtain a thorough knowledge of Patrick Henry's character, it is ne- 
 cessary to read Wirt's work on that subjeet. The speech of Henry on the 
 question of war with England, is a good one upon which to practise, as an 
 exercise in elocution. It requires a pretty high key, rather a rapid rate of 
 utterance, occasionally some quantity, and frequently emphasis. The 
 phrases in which he tells his hearers that they must " appeal to arms," and 
 r fight," should be given on a high key — the name of Deity, with quan- 
 tity, and a low key. 
 
 42. Cardinal Wolsey's Soliloquy on Ambition. — Shak- 
 
 speare. 
 
 1. Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! 
 This is the state of man : To-day, he puts forth 
 The tender leaves of hope ; to-morrow, blossoms, 
 And bears his blushing honors thick upon him ; 
 The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; 
 And when he thinks, good, easy man, full surely 
 His greatness is a ripening, nips his root ; 
 
 And then he falls, as I do. 
 
 2. I have ventured, 
 Like little wanton boys, that swim on bladders, 
 
 11* 
 
12 6 SELECT PIECES 
 
 These many summers in a sea of glory ; 
 
 But far beyond my depth ; my high-blown pride 
 
 At length broke under me ; and now has left me, 
 
 Weary, and old with service, to the mercy 
 
 Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. 
 
 Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye ! 
 
 I feel my heart now open'd. 
 
 3. O! how wretched 
 
 Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors ! j 
 
 There are, betwixt that smile he would aspire to. 
 That sweet aspect of princes, and his ruin, 
 More pangs and fears, than war or women have ; 
 And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, 
 Never to rise again. 
 
 "Wolsey's Soliloquy on Ambition," and also his "Farewell Address 
 to Cromwell," should be read or recited in a plaintive manner, on rather a j 
 low key, with a slow rate of utterance, and with quantity, 
 
 43. Cardinal Wolsey's Farewell Address to Crom- 
 well.— $A&&s2?e&re. 
 
 1. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear 
 In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, 
 Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. 
 
 Let's dry our eyes ; and, thus far, hear me, Cromwell ; 
 
 And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, 
 
 And sleep in dull, cold marble, where no mention 
 
 Of me more must be heard of, say then, I taught thee — 
 
 Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, 
 
 And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor, 
 
 Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ; 
 
 A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it. 
 
 2. Mark but my fall, and that, that ruirtd me. 
 Cromwell, 1 charge thee, fling away ambition ; 
 By that sin, fell the angels; how can man, then, 
 The image of his Maker, hope to win by it? 
 
 Love thyself last ; cherish those hearts that hate thee ; 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 127 
 
 Still in thy right hand, carry gentle peace. 
 To silence envious tongues. 
 
 3, Be just and fear not. 
 
 Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's. 
 Thy God's, and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, 
 Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! O Cromwell, Cromwell; 
 Had I but serv'd my God, with half the zeal 
 I serv'd my king, He would not in mine age, 
 Have left me naked to mine enemies ! 
 
 " Wolsey's Farewell Address" and his " Soliloquy," are taken" from a 
 scene in Henry VIII. The exhortation which the great dramatic poet, 
 through the proud, broken, and remorseful spirit of Cardinal Wolsey, 
 addresses to Cromwell, is no less elevated in moral tone, than it is beauti- 
 ful in language. 
 
 The writer heard the President of Missouri University, Professor J. H. 
 J Lathrop, after quoting, in a lecture, the first part of the last verse, say, by 
 • way of contrast, and in imitation of ShakspearVs style : 
 
 " But if thou plume the wing of power, 
 And tempt the giddy height, for sordid ends ; 
 I'll drag thee from the heaven of thy ambition, 
 And thy fall shall be ' like Lucifer's, 
 Never to rise again. 5 " 
 
 44. Speech to Joseph.— Judah. 
 
 1. Then Judah came near unto him, and said, O my lord, 
 let thy servant, I pray thee, speak a word in my lord's ears, 
 and let not thine anger burn against thy servant; for thou art 
 even as Pharaoh. My lord asked his servants, saying, Have 
 ye a father or a brother? 
 
 2. And we said unto my lord, We have a father, an old 
 man, and a child of his old age, a little one ; and his brother 
 is dead, and he alone is left of his mother, and his father loveth 
 him. And thou saidst unto thy servants, Bring him down 
 unto me, that I may set mine eyes upon him. 
 
 3. And we said unto my lord, The lad cannot leave his 
 father ; for if he should leave his father, his father would die. 
 And thou saidst unto thy servants, Except your youngest 
 brother come down with you, ye shall see my face no more, 
 
128 SELECT PIECES 
 
 And it came to pass, when we came up unto thy servant my 
 father, we told him the words of my lord. 
 
 4. And our father said, Go again and buy us a little food. 
 And we said, We cannot go down, unless our youngest brother 
 be with us, for we may not see the man's face except our 
 youngest brother be with us. And thy servant my father said 
 unto us, Ye know that my wife bare me two sons; and the 
 one went out from me, and I said, surely he is torn in pieces ; 
 and I saw him not since. 
 
 5. And if ye take this also from me, and mischief befal Aim, 
 ye shall bring down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. 
 Now, therefore, when I come to thy servant my father, and 
 the lad be not with us, seeing that his life is bound up in the 
 lad's life, it shall come to pass, when he seeth that the lad is 
 not with us, that he will die; and thy servants shall bring 
 down the gray hairs of thy servant our father with sorrow to 
 the grave. 
 
 6. For thy servant became surety for the lad unto my father, 
 saying, If I bring him not unto thee, then I shall bear the 
 blame to my father for ever. Now therefore, I pray thee, let 
 thy servant abide, instead of the lad, a bondman to my lord ; 
 and let the lad go up with his brethren. For how shall I go 
 up to my father, and the lad be not with me 1 lest peradven- 
 ture I see the evil that shall come on my father. — Genesis xliv. 
 
 This speech is very pathetic. Its effect upon Joseph was so great, that 
 he immediately disclosed himself. No sooner had Judah finished it, than 
 Joseph said to his brethren, " I am Joseph; doth my father yet live % n 
 
 Every incident in Joseph's life, is very instructive and deeply interesting. 
 Mr. Pease, of Albany, has published a book, bearing the attractive title of 
 " Letters to young men. founded on the History of Joseph," written by the 
 learned and accomplished William B. Sprague, D. D. of that city. 
 
 Judah's speech should be given both earnestly and mildly. The itali- 
 cised words require only slight emphasis. 
 
 I 
 
 45. Announcement of the Death of a Colleague m the 
 House of Representatives of the United States. — • 
 George M'Duffie. 
 
 1. Mr. Speaker: — I rise to discharge a painful and melan- 
 choly duty, by announcing the death of Gen. James Blair, a 
 representative from the state of South Carolina. The occur- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. \2Q 
 
 rences of the last few weeks furnish to us all an impressive and 
 awful admonition of the precarious tenure by which we hold 
 this fleeting and feverish existence, while we are but too prone 
 to act as if it would never have an end. 
 
 2. Scarcely have our feelings recovered from the violence 
 of the shock, produced by the extraordinary and unexampled 
 spectacle of one of our number, falling dead before our eyes, 
 while in the act of addressing the house on a great question 
 of deep and absorbing interest, when we are summoned to pay 
 the last melancholy offices of humanity to another, whose 
 death was equally sudden. 
 
 3. Mr. Speaker, I never have been able to feel that on oc- 
 casions of this kind, panegyric is an appropriate tribute to the 
 memory of the dead. They are beyond the reach of praise ; 
 and it is not by this, that they are judged, either in this world 
 or the next. Biographical details, however brief, are, in my 
 opinion, not more appropriate. Where the deceased is known, 
 they are unnecessary ; where he is unknown, they are seldom 
 of any interest. 
 
 4. His name should be his epitaph ; and, however blank it 
 may appear to the vacant eye of the passing stranger, it will 
 always have the power to call up the recollection of his virtues 
 in the bosom of friendship, and the tear of undissembled sor- 
 row in the eye of affection — offerings more grateful and con- 
 genial to the disembodied spirit, than the proudest monument 
 which human art can erect, or the most pompous eulogium 
 which human eloquence can pronounce. 
 
 5. Without saying more, sir, I now ask the house to bestow 
 upon the memory of the deceased, the customary testimonials 
 of respect, by adopting the resolution I hold in my hand. 
 
 General Blair, and the Hon. Thomas T. Bouldin, of Virginia, the other 
 member of congress to whom Mr. M'Duffie alludes in the second verse of 
 his eloquent and solemn speech, died at Washington in the year 1834. 
 The resolution of which he speaks in conclusion, proposed that the mem- 
 bers of the house should go into mourning, by wearing crape on the left 
 arm, for thirty days, — a custom which has long prevailed in parliamentary 
 bodies. When General Harrison's death occurred, as that melancholy 
 event took place while he was president of the United States, crape was 
 worn also on the hats of all the various officers of the government. The 
 twenty-six pall bearers, one for each state, wore, in addition to these ha- 
 biliments of wo, white silk scarfs over the shoulder, with a black crapo 
 rosette on their bosoms. 
 
 State affairs have, for several years, occupied Mr. M'Duffie's attention, 
 almost exclusively. He has been governor of South Carolina, as well as 
 
130 SELECT PIECES 
 
 a representative in congress from that state. He speaks rapidly and with 
 power. His announcement of General Blair's death, is a burst of true 
 eloquence. It should be given in the deep and solemn tone of grief. The 
 countenance should be expressive of " the nothingness of man, and the 
 supremacy of Providence." 
 
 46. The Right of Free Discussion, derived from God. — 
 
 Gerrit Smith, Esq. 
 
 1. I love the free and happy form of civil government un- 
 der which I live ; not because it confers new rights on me. 
 My rights all spring from an infinitely nobler source — from 
 the favor and grace of God. Our political and constitutional 
 rights, so called, are but the natural and inherent rights of 
 man, asserted, carried out, and secured by modes of human 
 contrivance, To no human charter am I indebted for my 
 rights. They pertain to my original constitution ; and I read 
 them in that Book of books, which is the great Charter of man's 
 rights. No, the constitutions of my nation and state create 
 none of my rights. They do, at the most, but recognize what 
 it was not theirs to give. 
 
 2. My reason therefore, for loving a republican form of gov- 
 ernment, and for preferring it to any other — to monarchical 
 and despostic government — is, not that it clothes me with 
 rights, which these withhold from me ; but, that it makes 
 fewer encroachments than they do, on the rights which God 
 gave me — on the divinely appointed scope of man's agency. 
 I prefer, in a word, the republican system, because it comes 
 up more nearly to God's system. It is not then to the con- 
 stitutions of my nation and state, that I am indebted for the 
 right of free discussion ; though I am thankful for the glorious 
 defence with which those instruments surround that right. 
 
 3. God himself gave me this right ; and a sufficient proof 
 that He did so, is to be found in the fact, that He requires me 
 to exercise it. Take from the men, who compose the church 
 of Christ on earth, the right of free discussion, and you disable 
 them for His service. They are now the lame and the dumb 
 and the blind. In vain is it now, that you bid them " hold forth 
 the word of life" — in vain that you bid them " not to suffer sin 
 upon a neighbor, but in any wise to rebuke him" — in vain is 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 131 
 
 it, that you bid them " go into all the world, and preach the 
 gospel to every creature." 
 
 4. If God made me to be one of his instruments for carrying 
 forward the salvation of the world, then is the right of free dis- 
 cussion among my inherent rights ; then may I, must I, speak 
 of sin, any sin, every sin, that comes in my way — any sin, 
 every sin, which it is my duty to search out and to assail. 
 When, therefore, this right is called in question, then is the 
 invasion, not of something obtained from human convention 
 and human concession : but the invasion of a birthright — of 
 that which is as old as our being, and a part of the original 
 man. 
 
 5. This right, so sacred, is sought to be trammeled. It is 
 virtually denied. What I have said is introductory to the 
 expression of my dissent from the tenor of the language, with 
 which this invasion is generally met. This right is, for the 
 most part, defended on the ground, that it is given to us by 
 our political constitution ; and that it was purchased for us 
 by the blood and toil of our fathers. Now, 1 wish to see its 
 
 • defence placed on its true and infinitely higher ground ; on 
 the ground, that God gave it to us; and that he, who violates 
 or betrays it, is guilty, not alone of dishonoring the laws of his 
 country and the blood and toil and memory of his fathers ; 
 but, that he is guilty also of making war upon God's plan of 
 man's constitution and endowments ; and of attempting to 
 narrow down and destroy that dignity, with which God in- 
 vested him, when He made him in his own image, and but 
 " little lower than the angels." 
 
 6. When, therefore, we would defend this right, let us 
 not defend it so much with the jealousy of an Ameri- 
 can — a republican ; as though it were but an American 
 or a republican right, and could claim no higher origin 
 than human will and human statutes ; but let us defend 
 it as men, feeling that to lose it, is to lose a part of our- 
 selves ; let us defend it as men, determined to maintain, even 
 to their extreme boundary, the rights and powers, which God 
 has given to us for our usefulness and enjoyment ; and the 
 surrender of an iota of which is treason against Heaven. 
 
 7. We are threatened with legislative restraints on this 
 right. Let us tell our legislators in advance, that this is a 
 right, restraints on which, we will not, cannot bear ; and that 
 every attempt to restrain it is a palpable wrong on God and 
 
132 SELECT PIECES 
 
 man. Submitting to these restraints, we could not be what 
 God made us to be ; we could not perform the service, to which 
 he has appointed us ; we could not be men. Laws to gag a 
 man — to congeal the gushing fountains of his heait's sympa- 
 thy — and to shrivel up his soul by extinguishing its ardor and 
 generosity — are laws not to assist him in carrying out God's 
 high and holy purposes in calling him into being ; but they 
 are laws to throw him a passive, mindless, worthless being, at 
 the feet of despotism. 
 
 8. Our republican spirit cannot thus succumb. God gave 
 us our freedom, — it is not an ex gratia freedom bestowed by 
 man. The right of free discussion is derived from God ; and 
 knowing this, let us vindicate it against all the threats and arts 
 of demagogues, and money worshippers, and in the face of 
 mobs, and of death ! 
 
 The speech from which this most eloquent vindication of the right of 
 free discussion is taken, was made at Peterborough, Madison county, N. Y. 
 where Mr. Smith resides, on the 22d day of October, in the year 1835. 
 The right to discuss all subjects, either of individual or national concern- 
 ment, is, doubtless, derived from God. So surely therefore as our blood 
 has a right to circulate through the veins which He created for that pur- 
 pose, just so surely we have an inalienable right to speak with the tongue, 
 the pen, and the press, in the fearless language, and in the manly tones 
 of freemen. 
 
 The thought has often occurred to the writer, that if a speaker could 
 combine the dignity of Demosthenes, with the gracefulness of Cicero ; or 
 the intellectual strength, and impressive authority of the manner of speak- 
 ing of such men, as John C. Calhoun, Daniel Webster, and Silas Wright, 
 with the pleasing and alluring style of Henry Clay, Martin Van Buren, 
 or Benjamin F. Butler; he would reach the highest point of excellence in 
 oratory. The elocution of Gerrit Smith is distinguished alike for beauty 
 and power. Having a refined taste and great compass of voice, he gives 
 quantity and rhetorical pauses where elocution requires them, very perfectly. 
 His gestures, too, are appropriate and graceful. Gtuantity is no less essen- 
 tial in elocution than in vocal music, and the suspension of the breath in 
 which the rhetorical pause chiefly consists, aids the orator essentially in 
 speaking with ease, facility, and power. Possessing a clear, full, sono- 
 rous, and powerful voice, which Dr. Rush calls " orotund" Mr. Smith 
 gives quantity and rhetorical pauses, and all the other varieties of expres- 
 sive intonation most admirably. There is as much difference between his 
 elocution, and that of an ordinary speaker, as between " the light of a 
 taper, and the light of the Sun." Mr. Smith is, moreover, a gentleman of 
 great hospitality and munificence. 
 
 The eloquent and glowing passages with which the above extract 
 abounds, will furnish the young American orator, with an excellent speci- 
 men, for practice in powerful declamation. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 133 
 
 47. Address t® the 3|oost. — Qssiaw. 
 
 1. Daughter of heaven, fair art thou! the silence of thy 
 face is pleasant ! Thou comest forth in loveliness. The 
 stars attend thy blue course in the east. The clouds re- 
 joice in thy presence, O moon. They brighten their dark- 
 brown sides. Who is like thee in heaven, light of the 
 silent night ! The stars in thy presence turn away their 
 sparkling eyes. 
 
 2. Whither dost thou retire from thy course, when the 
 darkness of thy countenance grows? Hast thou thy hall, like 
 Ossian? Dwellest thou in the shadow of grief? Have thy 
 sisters fallen from heaven ? Are they who rejoice with thee 
 at night, no more? Yes; they have fallen, fair light! and 
 thou dost often retire to mourn. But thou thyself shalt fail, 
 one night, and leave thy blue path in heaven. 
 
 3. The stars will then lift their heads and rejoice. Thou 
 art now clothed with thy brightness. Look from thy gates in 
 the sky. Burst the clouds, O wind, that the daughter of night 
 may look forth ; that the shaggy mountains may brighten, 
 and the ocean roll its white waves in light. 
 
 The elocution of Ossian 's beautiful address to the Moon, should be very 
 similar to that of his address to the Sun. That is the 14th piece, and the 
 reader is referred to the writer's note appended to it. 
 
 48. ©ONCLUSlOUff QY ©ANIEI, WEBSTER^ gPEECK. 
 
 Gentlemen : A hundred years hence, other disciples of 
 Washington will celebrate his birth, with no less of sincere 
 admiration, than we now commemorate it. When they shall 
 meet, as we now meet, to do themselves and him the honor, 
 so surely as they shall see the blue summits of his native 
 mountains rise in the horizon, so surely as they shall behold 
 the river on whose banks he lived, and on whose banks he 
 rests, still flow to the sea ; so surely may they see, as we now 
 see, the flag of the Union floating on the top of the capitol ; 
 and then, as now, may the sun in his course, visit no land 
 more free, more happy, more lovely, than this our own country. 
 12 
 
134 SELECT PIECES 
 
 
 The speech from which this short and eloquent extract is taken, wa 
 made at Washington, on the 22d of February, 1832, it being the centen 
 nial birth day of George Washington. 
 
 49. Education. — Charles Phillips. 
 
 1. Education is a companion which no misfortune can de 
 press, no clime destroy, no enemy alienate^ no despotism en 
 slave ; at home a friend, abroad an introduction, in solitude a 
 solace, in society an ornament ; it chastens vice, it guides vir 
 tue, it gives at once a grace and government to genius. 
 
 2 Without it, what is man ? A splendid slave ! a reason- 
 ing savage, vascillating between the dignity of an intelligence 
 derived from God. and the degradation of passions participatec 
 with brutes; and in the accident of their alternate ascendency 
 shuddering at the terrors of an hereafter, or embracing the 
 horrid hope of annihilation. 
 
 3. What is this wondrous world of his residence? "A mighty 
 maze, and all without a plan ;" a dark, and desolate, and dreary 
 cavern, without wealth, or ornament, or order. But light up 
 within it the torch of knowledge and how wondrous the tran- 
 sition ! 
 
 4. The seasons change, the atmosphere breathes, the land- 
 scape lives, earth unfolds its fruits, ocean rolls in its magnifi- 
 cence, the heavens display their constellated canopy, and the 
 grand, animated spectacle of nature rises revealed before him, 
 its varieties regulated, and its mysteries resolved ! 
 
 5. The phenomena which bewilder, the prejudices which 
 debase, the superstitions which enslave, vanish before educa- 
 tion. Like the holy symbol which blazed upon the cloud be- 
 fore the hesitating Constantine, if man follow but its precepts, 
 purely, it will not only lead him to the victories of this world, 
 but open the very portals of Omnipotence for his admission. 
 
 50. The Sacking of Prague. — Thomas Campbe 
 
 I. Oh ! sacred truth ! thy triumph ceas'd awhile, 
 And hope, thy sister, ceas'd with thee to smile, 
 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 135 
 
 When leagued oppression pour'd to northern wars 
 Her whisker'd panders, and her fierce hussars, 
 Wav'd her dread standard to the breeze of morn, 
 Peal'd her loud drum, and twang* d her trumpet horn ! 
 Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van, 
 Presaging wrath to Poland — and to man ! 
 
 2. Warsaw's last champion from her height survey'd, 
 Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid, — 
 
 Oh ! Heaven, he cried, my bleeding country save ! 
 Is there no hand on high to shield the brave % 
 Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains, 
 Rise fellow-men ! our country yet remains ! 
 By that dread name, we wave the sword on high, 
 And swear for her to live ! with her to die 1 
 
 3. He said, and on the rampart heights array' d 
 His trusty warriors, few, but undismay'd ; 
 Firm-pac'd and slow, a horrid front they form, 
 Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm ; 
 Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly, 
 Revenge, or death, — the watchword and reply ; 
 Then pealed the notes, omnipotent to charm, 
 And the loud tocsin toiPd their last alarm ! 
 
 4. In vain, alas ! in vain, ye gallant few ! 
 
 From rank to rank your volley'd thunder flew ; — 
 Oh 1 bloodiest picture in the " Book of Time," 
 Sarmatia fell, unwept, without a crime ; 
 Found not a gen'rous friend, a pitying foe, 
 Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe ! 
 Dropp'd from her nerveless grasp the shatter'd spear, 
 Clos'd her bright eye, and curb'd her high career ; 
 Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell ; 
 And freedom shrieked — as Kosciusko fell ! 
 
 5. The sun went down, nor ceas'd the carnage there, 
 Tumultuous murder shook the midnight air — 
 On Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow; 
 His blood-dy'd waters murmuring far below ; 
 The storm prevails, the rampart yields away, 
 Bursts the wild cry of horror and dismay ! 
 

 136 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Hark ! as the smouldering piles with thunder fall, 
 A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy call ! 
 Earth shook — red meteors flashed along the sky, 
 And conscious nature shudder'd at the cry ! 
 
 6. Oh ! righteous Heaven ! ere freedom found a grave, 
 Why slept the sword, omnipotent to save ? 
 Where was thine arm, O vengeance ! where thy rod, 
 That smote the foes of Zion and of God ; 
 That crush ? d proud Ammon, when his iron car ^ 
 Was yok'd in wrath, and thunder'd from afar? 
 Where was the storm that slumber'd till the host 
 Of blood-starn'd Pharaoh left their trembling coast ; 
 Then bade the deep in wild commotion flow, 
 And heavM an ocean on their march below ? 
 
 7. Departed spirits of the mighty dead ! 
 Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled t 
 Friends of the world ! restore your swords to man, 
 Fight in the sacred cause, and lead the van I 
 Yet for Sarmatia's tears of blood atone, 
 And make her arm puissant as your own ! 
 Oh ! once again to freedom's cause return 
 The patriot Tell — the Bruce of Bannockburn f 
 
 8. Yes ! thy proud lords, unpitied land ! shall see 
 That man hath yet a soul — and dare be free ! 
 A little while, along thy saddling plains, 
 The starless night of desolation reigns; 
 Truth shall restore the light by nature giv'n, 
 And, like Prometheus, bring the fire of Heav'n ! 
 Prone to the dust oppression shall be hurl'd, — 
 Her name, her nature, wither'd from the world ! 
 
 The " Sacking of Prague " requires the voice to undergo sudden changes, 
 "both in pitch and quantity. 
 
 51. Conclusion of Henry Clay's Speech at Lexington, Ky. 
 
 1. My friends and fellow-citizens, I cannot part from you, 
 on possibly this last occasion of my ever publicly addressing 
 

 FOR EXERCISES. 137 
 
 you, without reiterating the expression of my thanks, from a 
 heart overflowing with gratitude. I came among you now 
 more than thirty years ago, an orphan boy, penny less, a 
 stranger to you all, without friends, without the favor of the 
 great. 
 
 2. You took me up, cherished me, caressed me, protected 
 me, honored me. You have constantly poured upon me, a 
 bold and unabated stream of innumerable favors. Time, 
 which wears out every thing, has increased and strengthened 
 your affections for me. 
 
 3. When I seemed deserted by almost the whole world, 
 and assailed by almost every tongue, and pen, and press; 
 you have fearlessly and manfully stood by me, with unsur- 
 passed zeal, and undiminished friendship. When I felt as if 
 I should sink beneath the storm of abuse and detraction, which 
 was violently raging around me, I have found myself upheld 
 and sustained, by your encouraging voices and your approv- 
 ing smiles. 
 
 4. I have doubtless committed many faults and indiscre- 
 tions, over which, you have thrown the broad mantle of your 
 charity. But I can say, and in the presence of my God, and 
 of this assembled multitude, I will say, that I have honestly 
 and faithfully served my country : that 1 have never wronged 
 it; and that however unprepared I lament that I am, to ap- 
 pear in the Divine presence, on other accounts, I invoke the 
 stern justice of His judgment on my public conduct, without 
 the smallest apprehension of His depleasure. 
 
 Mr. Clay's speech, from which the above extract is taken, was made at 
 ^ Fowler's Garden," near Lexington, Kentucky, on the 16th of May, 18*29, 
 on the occasion of a public dinner being given him, which was soon after his 
 term as secretary of state expired, on his return to his adopted state. His 
 health, at that time, was so delicate, that he observed to me, he thought it 
 doubtful whether he should live another year. In concluding his speech, 
 he spoke under the influence of deep emotion. Thousands were in at- 
 tendance ; and when the orator said, " I came among you an orphan 
 boy," &c, almost ever}' eye was impearled with tears. Mr. Clay's scorn- 
 ing to forget the humble origin from which he rose to be a member of the 
 house of representatives, speaker of the house, secretary of state, and a 
 senator in congress, may be regarded as a happy exhibition of grateful 
 sympathy. His voice is uncommonly deep, musical, and powerful ; and 
 his gestures are very animated, and perfectly natural and graceful, 
 
 12* 
 
138 SELECT PIECES 
 
 52. The Petition of the Wife of Almas Ali Cawn, to 
 Warren Hastings. 
 
 1. May the blessings of thy God wait upon thee, may th- 
 sun of glory shine round thy head, and may the gates of 
 plenty, honor, and happiness, be always open to thee and thine. 
 
 2. May no sorrow distress thy days, may no strife disturb 
 thy nights, may the pillow of peace kiss thy cheeks, and the 
 pleasures of imagination attend thy dreams ; and when length 
 of years makes thee tired of earthly joys, and the curtain of 
 death gently closes round the last sleep of human existence, 
 may the angels of God attend thy bed, and take care that the 
 expiring lamp of life shall not receive one rude blast to hasten 
 its extinction. 
 
 3. O, hearken then, to the voice of distress, and grant the 
 petition of thy servant. Spare the father of my children, save 
 my husband, my all that is dear! Consider, sir, that he did 
 not become rich by iniquity ; and that what he possessed, was 
 the inheritance of a long line of flourishing ancestors, who, in 
 those smiling days, when the thunder of Great Britain was not 
 heard on the fertile plains of Hindostan, reaped their harvests 
 in quiet, and enjoyed their patrimony unmolested. 
 
 4. Think, O think! that the God you worship, delights not 
 in the blood of the innocent; remember thy own command- 
 ment : " Thou shalt not kill ;" and by the order of heaven, 
 give me back my Almas Ali Cawn ; and take all our wealth, 
 strip us of all our precious stones, of all our gold and silver, 
 but take not the life of my husband ! Innocence is seated on 
 his brow, and the milk of human kindness flows round his 
 heart ; let us wander through the deserts, let us become tillers 
 and laborers in those delightful spots of which he was once 
 lord and master ; 
 
 5. But spare, O mighty sir ! spare his life ! let not the in- 
 strument of death be lifted up against him, for he has not com- 
 mitted any crime; accept our treasures with gratitude ; thou 
 hast them at present by force ; we will remember thee in our 
 prayers, and forget that we were ever rich and powerful. 
 
 6. My children beseech from thee, the author of their ex- 
 istence ; from that humanity which we have been told glows 
 in the hearts of Englishmen, by the honor, by the virtue, the 
 honesty, and the maternal feelings of the great queen, whose 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 139 
 
 offspring is so dear to her, the miserable wife of thy prisoner, 
 beseeches thee to save the life of her husband, and restore him 
 to her arms; thy God will reward thee, thy country must 
 thank thee, and she now petitioning, will pray for thee. 
 
 It would seem that such a petition, and from such a source, would al- 
 most "create a soul under the ribs of death;" but it produced no effect 
 upon the unfeeling and unprincipled man to whom it was addressed. 
 The friends of humanity, wherever they may be found, look with decided 
 disapprobation upon this, and all other similar instances of cruelty, which 
 have occured in England or elsewhere. The execution of the Rev. Wil- 
 liam Dodd, who was not guilty of a crime deserving severe punishment, 
 which took place, during the reign of George 111. in less than a year sub- 
 sequently to the adoption of the declaration of American Independence, 
 inspired our political fathers with additional zeal, against " a prince whose 
 character" was " thus marked, by every act which may define a tyrant." 
 Sheridan and Burke, in their invectives against Warren Hastings, use 
 veiy strong language. Sheridan, in one of his public speeches, calls him 
 " a monster who stalked over the country, tainting and poisoning with pes- 
 tiferous breath, what his voracious appetite could not devour." Burke, in 
 his eloquent portraiture of the character of Hastings, says : "He is never 
 corrupt but he is cruel ; he never dines with comfort but where he is sure 
 to create a famine. He never robs from the loose superfluity of standing 
 greatness ; he devours the fallen, the indigent, the necessitous. His ex- 
 tortion is not like the generous rapacity of the princely eagle, who snatches 
 away the living, struggling prey ; he is a vulture who feeds upon the pros- 
 trate, the dying, and the dead ! As his cruelty is more shocking than his 
 corruption, so his hypocrisy has something more frightful than his cruelty. 
 For whilst his bloody and rapacious hand signs proscriptions, and sweeps 
 away the food of the widow and the orphan, his eyes overflow with tears ; 
 and he converts the healing balm, that bleeds from wounded humanity, 
 into a rancorous and deadly poison to the race of man !" 
 
 The student may profitably practise upon the last extract, embodied in 
 the note, as well as upon the " Petition " itself. Burke's powerful remarks 
 should be given with great and increasing energy, — the first two verses of 
 the " Petition," mildly, — and the rest of it, in the most earnest manner, but 
 not on a high key. 
 
 53. Speech of William Pitt, Earl of Chatham. 
 
 1. My lords ; I am astonished — I am shocked, to hear such 
 principles confessed, — to hear them avowed in this house, or 
 even in this country. I did not intend to have encroached 
 again on your attention, but I cannot repress my indignation. 
 I feel myself impelled to speak. 
 
140 SELECT PIECES 
 
 2. My lords, we are called upon as members of this house, 
 as men, as Christians, to protest against such horrible bar- 
 barity—" that God and nature have put into our hands !" 
 "What ideas of God and nature that noble lord may entertain, 
 I know not ; but I know that such detestable principles are 
 equally abhorrent to religion and humanity. 
 
 3. What ! to attribute the sacred sanction of God and nature, 
 to the massacres of the Indian's scalping knife ! to the savage, 
 torturing, murdering, and devouring his unhappy victims! 
 Such notions shock every precept of morality, every feeling of 
 humanity, every sentiment of honor. 
 
 4. These abominable principles, and this more abominable 
 avowal of them, demand the most decisive indignation. I call 
 upon that right reverend, and this most learned bench, to vin- 
 dicate the religion of their God, to support the justice of their 
 country. I call upon the bishops to interpose the unsullied 
 sanctity of their lawn ; upon the judges to interpose the purity 
 of their ermine, to save us from this pollution. 
 
 5. I call upon the honor of your lordships, to reverence the 
 dignity of your ancestors, and to maintain your own. I call 
 upon the spirit and humanity of my country, to vindicate the 
 national character. I invoke the genius of the British consti- 
 tution. 
 
 6. From the tapestry that adorns these walls, the immortal 
 ancestor of this noble lord frowns with indignation at the dis- 
 grace of his country. In vain did he defend, and establish 
 the liberty of Britain, against the tyranny of Rome, if these 
 worse than popish cruelties, and inquisitorial practices, are 
 endured among us. 
 
 7. To send forth the merciless Indian, thirsting for blood! 
 against whom? your protestant brethren ! — to lay waste their 
 dwellings, and extirpate their race and name, by the aid and 
 instrumentality of these ungovernable savages! 
 
 8. Spain can no longer boast preeminence in barbarit}^. 
 She armed herself with blood-hounds, to extirpate the wretch- 
 ed natives of Mexico; we, more ruthless, loose these dogs of 
 war against our countrymen in America, endeared to us by 
 every tie that can sanctify humanity. 
 
 9. I solemnly call upon your lordships, and upon every 
 order of men in the state, to stamp upon this infamous proce- 
 dure, the indelible stain of the public abhorrence. More par- 
 ticularly, I call upon the venerable prelates of our religion, to 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 141 
 
 do away this iniquity ; let them perform a lustration to purify 
 the country from this deep and deadly sin. 
 
 This speech of Mr. Pitt, was made in the British Parliament, November 
 18, 1777, on the subject of employing Indians to fight against the Ameri- 
 cans, and in opposition to Lord Suffolk, who had said in the course of the 
 debate, "that England had a right to use all the means that God and na- 
 ture had put into her hands, to conquer America." " The tapestry " of 
 the house of lords, of which the orator speaks, represents the defeat of 
 the Spanish armada, in the reign of Gtueen Elizabeth, by Admiral How- 
 ard, an ancestor of Lord Suffolk. This admiral to whom he alludes, is a 
 conspicuous figure in the tapestry. It will be seen that Mr. Pitt, although 
 an Englishman, manifested an interest in the happiness of the Americans. 
 He was so eloquent, that it was justly said by Cowper: 
 
 " It is praise enough, to fill the ambition of a private man, 
 That Chatham's language is his mother tongue." 
 
 It will readily occur to the student in oratory, that this speech should be 
 read or recited in a very animated and energetic manner. 
 
 54. Night before, and Battle of Waterloo. — Byron. 
 
 1. There was a sound of revelry by night, 
 And Belgium's capital had gathered then 
 Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright 
 
 The lamp shone o'er fair women and brave men. 
 A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when 
 Music arose with its voluptuous swell, 
 Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, 
 And all went merry as a marriage-bell ; 
 But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell. 
 
 2. Did ye not hear it ? — No ; 'twas but the wind, 
 Or the car rattling o'er the stony street,; 
 
 On with the dance ! let joy be unconfln'd ; 
 No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet 
 To chase the glowing hours with flying feet ; 
 But hark ! that heavy sound breaks in once more, 
 As if the clouds its echo would repeat ; 
 And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before ! 
 Arm ! arm ! it is-^=it zW=the cannon's opening roar ! 
 
142 SELECT PIECES 
 
 3. Within a windowed niche of that high hall, 
 Sat Brunswick's fated chieftain. He did hear 
 That sound the first amidst the festival, 
 
 And caught its tone with death's prophetic ear ; 
 And when they smiled because he deemed it near. 
 His heart more truly knew that peal too well, 
 Which stretch'd his father on a bloody bier, 
 And roused the vengeance, blood alone could quell ; 
 He rush'd into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell. 
 
 4. Ah ! then and there were hurrying to and fro, 
 And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, 
 And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago 
 Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness ; 
 And there were sudden partings, such as press 
 The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs 
 Which ne'er might be repeated. Who could guess 
 If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, 
 
 Since upon night so sweet, such awful morn could rise. 
 
 5. And there was mounting in hot haste ; the steed, 
 The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, 
 Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, 
 And swiftly forming in the ranks of war j 
 
 And the deep thunder, peal on peal, afar ; 
 And near, the beat of the alarming drum 
 Roused up the soldier, ere the morning star ; 
 While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, 
 Or whispering with white lips — u The foe ! they come I they come /" 
 
 6. Last noon beheld them full of lusty life ; 
 Last eve, in beauty's circle, proudly gay ; 
 
 The midnight brought the signal sound of strife; 
 The morn, the marshalling in arms; the day, 
 Battle's magnificently stern array ! 
 The thunder-clouds close over it, which, when rent, 
 The earth is covered thick with other clay, 
 Which her own clay shall cover — heaped and pent, 
 Rider and horse, — friend, — foe, in one red burial blent! 
 
 Byron's Description of the Night before the Battle of Waterloo, and of 
 the battle itself, is well suited for an elocutionary exercise, especially the 
 second verse, in which the sentiment requires the low, middle and high 
 key in quick succession. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 143 
 
 55. Right of Free Discussion. — D. Webster. 
 
 1. Important as I deem it to discuss, on all proper occasions, 
 the policy of the measures at present pursued, it is still more 
 important to maintain the right of such discussion in its full 
 and just extent. Sentiments lately sprung up, and now grow- 
 ing fashionable, make it necessary to be explicit on this point. 
 The more I perceive a disposition to check the freedom of in- 
 quiry, "by extravagant and unconstitutional pretences, the 
 firmer shall be the tone in which I shall assert, and the freer 
 the manner in which I shall exercise it. 
 
 2. It is the ancient and undoubted prerogative of this people, 
 to canvass public measures, and the merits of public men. It 
 is a " homebred right," a fireside privilege. It hath ever been 
 enjoyed in every house, cottage, and cabin in the nation. It 
 is not to be drawn into controversy. It is as undoubted as the 
 right of breathing the air, or walking on the earth 
 
 3. Belonging to private life as a right, it belongs to public 
 life as a duty ; and it is the last duty which those whose re- 
 presentative I am, shall find me to abandon. Aiming, at all 
 times, to be courteous and temperate in its use, except when 
 the right itself shall be questioned, I shall then carry it to its 
 extent. I shall place myself on the extreme boundary of my 
 right, and bid defiance to any arm that would move me from 
 my ground. 
 
 4. This high constitutional privilege, I shall defend and 
 exercise, within this house, and without this house, and in all 
 places ; in time of war, in time of peace, and at all times. 
 Living, I shall assert it ; dying I shall assert it ; and should I 
 leave no other inheritance to my children, by the blessing of 
 God, I will leave them the inheritance of free principles, and 
 the example of a manly, independent, and constitutional de- 
 fence of them. 
 
 56. Speech of Martin Van Buren. 
 
 1. Senators: — In entering upon the duties of the station to 
 which I have been called by the people, deference to you, and 
 justice to myself, require that I should forestal expectations 
 
H4 SELECT PIECES 
 
 which might otherwise be disappointed. Although for many 
 years heretofore, a member of the senate, I regret that I should 
 not have acquired that knowledge of the particular order of 
 proceedings which might naturally be expected. 
 
 2. Unfortunately for rne, in respect to my present condition, 
 I ever found those at hand, who had more correctly appreci- 
 ated this important branch of their duties, and on whose opin- 
 ions, as to points of order, I could at ail times safely rely. 
 This remissness will, doubtless, for a season, cause me no 
 small degree of embarrassment. So far, however, as unremit- 
 ting exertions on my part, and a proper respect for the advice 
 of those who are better informed than myself, can avail, this 
 deficiency will be remedied as speedily as possible ; and I feel 
 persuaded that the senate, in the mean time, will extend to me 
 a considerate indulgence. 
 
 3. But however wanting I may be for the time, in a tho- 
 rough knowledge of the technical duties of the chair, I enter- 
 tain, I humbly hope, a deep and solemn conviction of its high 
 moral obligations. I am well aware, that he who occupies it, 
 is bound to cherish towards the members of the body over 
 which he presides, no other feelings than those of justice and 
 courtesy — to regard them all as standing on an honorable 
 equality — to apply the rules established by themselves, for 
 their own government, with strict impartiality — and to use 
 whatever authority he possesses, in the manner best calculated 
 to protect the rights, to respect the feelings^ and to guard the 
 reputations of all who may be affected by its exercise. 
 
 4. It is no disparagement to any other branch of the gov- 
 ernment to say, that there is none, on which the constitution 
 devolves such extensive powers, as it does upon the senate. 
 There is scarcely an exercise of constitutional authority, in 
 which it does not mediately or immediately participate ; it 
 forms an important, and, in some respects, an indispensable 
 part of each of the three great departments, executive, legisla- 
 tive and judicial ; and is, moreover, the body in which is 
 made effectual that share of power in the federal organization, 
 so wisely allowed to the respective state sovereignties. 
 
 5. Invested with such august powers, so judiciously restrict- 
 ed, and so largely adapted to the purposes of good government, 
 it is no wonder that the senate is regarded by the people of 
 the United States, as one of the best features, in what they, 
 at least, consider to be the wisest, the freest, and happiest 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 145 
 
 political system in the world. In fervent wishes that it may- 
 long continue to be so regarded, and in the conviction of the 
 importance of order, propriety, and regularity in its proceedings, 
 we must all concur. 
 
 6. It shall be an object of my highest ambition, senators, 
 to join with you, as far as in me lies, in effecting those desi- 
 rable objects ; and in endeavoring to realize the expectations 
 formed of this body, at the adoption of the constitution, and 
 ever since confidently cherished, that it would exercise the 
 most efficient influence in upholding the federal system, and 
 in perpetuating what is at once the foundation, and the safe- 
 guard of our country's welfare — the union of the states. 
 
 On the 10th of December, 1833, Mr. Van Buren, who was then vice 
 president of the United States, after being conducted to the chair of the 
 (senate, by the president, pro tern., delivered the above address. His man- 
 ner of speaking is pleasant, happy, and impressive. In person, he is 
 
 . neither above nor below the middle height; his figure is graceful, his 
 countenance is animated, and indicative of unusual intelligence. The 
 phrase with which he concludes his eloquent speech, " the union of the 
 states" is expressive of a sentiment which is truly patriotic. The arTec- 
 
 h tions of the American citizen, " should know no East, no West, no North, 
 no South, — they should ail be comprehended in one, and called our 
 country." 
 
 57. Extract from General Jackson's Proclamation. 
 
 1. Fellow citizens: — Contemplate the condition of that coun- 
 try of which you still form an important part ! Consider its 
 government, uniting in one bond of common interest and gen- 
 eral protection, so many different states, giving to all their in- 
 habitants the proud title of American citizens, protecting 
 their commerce, securing their literature and their arts, facili- 
 tating their intercommunication, defending their frontiers, and 
 making their name respected in the remotest parts of the 
 earth. 
 
 2. Consider the extent of its territory, its increasing and 
 happy population, its advance in arts which render life agree- 
 able, and the sciences which elevate the mind ! See educa- 
 tion spreading the light of religion, humanity, and general 
 information, into every cottage in this wide extent of our terri- 
 
 13 
 
!46 SELECT PIECES 
 
 tories and states ! Behold it as the asylum, where the wretched 
 and the oppressed find a refuge and support ! 
 
 3. Look on this picture of happiness and honor, and say — 
 We too, are citizens of America! Carolina is one of 
 these proud states. Her arms have defended, her best blood 
 has cemented, this happy union ! And then add, if you can 
 without horror and remorse, This happy union we will dis- 
 solve — this picture of peace and prosperity, we will deface — 
 this free intercourse, we wilJ interrupt — these fertile fields, we 
 will deluge with blood — the protection of that glorious flag, 
 we renounce — the very name of Americans, we discard ! 
 
 4. There is yet time to show, that the descendants of the 
 Pinckneys, the Sumpters, the Rutiedges; and of the thousand 
 other names which adorn the pages on your revolutionary 
 history, will not abandon that union, to support which, so 
 many of them fought, and bled, and died. 
 
 5. I adjure you, as you honor their memory — as you love 
 the cause of freedom, to which they dedicated their lives— -as 
 you prize the peace of your country, the lives of its best citi- 
 zens, and your own fair fame, to retrace your steps. 
 
 6. Snatch from the archives of your state, the disorganizing 
 edict of its convention — bid its members to re-assemble and 
 promulgate the decided expressions of your will, — to remain in 
 the path which alone can conduct you to safety, prosperity, 
 and honor, — tell them that, compared to disunion, all other 
 evils are light, because that brings with it an accumulation 
 of all, — declare that you will never take the field, unless the 
 star-spangled banker of your country shall float over you, — 
 that you will not be stigmatized when dead, and dishonored 
 and scorned while you live, as the authors of the first attack 
 on the constitution of your country ! — its destroyers you can- 
 not be. " 
 
 7. Fellow citizens, the momentous case is before you. On 
 your undivided support of the government, depends the de- 
 cision of the great question it involves, whether our sacred 
 union will be preserved, and the blessings it secures to us as 
 one people, shall be perpetuated. No one can doubt that the 
 unanimity with which that decision will be expressed, will 
 be such as to inspire new confidence in republican institutions ; 
 and that the prudence, the wisdom, and the courage, which it 
 will bring to their defence, will transmit them unimpaired and 
 invigorated to our children. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 147 
 
 8. May the Great Ruler of nations grant that the signal 
 blessings with which he has favored ours, may not, by the 
 madness of party or personal ambition, be disregarded and 
 lost ; and may His wise Providence bring those who have 
 produced this crisis, to see their folly, before they feel the 
 misery of civil strife ; and inspire a returning veneration for 
 that union, which, if we may dare to penetrate His designs, 
 He has chosen as the only means of attaining the high desti- 
 nies to which we may reasonably aspire. 
 
 In the year 1832, a state convention was held in South Carolina, and 
 passed an ordinance, declaring laws of (be United States, for imposing 
 duties and imposts on the importation of foreign commodities, null and 
 void 1 On the 10th of December of the same year, Gen. Jackson, who, 
 at that time, was president of the United States, made a proclamation, 
 from which the above eloquent extract is taken. 
 
 58. Woodman, Spare That Tree. — George P. Morris. 
 
 1. Woodman, spare that tree! 
 Touch not a single bough, 
 In youth it sheltered me, 
 And I'll protect it now. 
 It was my father's hand 
 That placed it near his cot ; 
 Then, woodman, let it stand, 
 Thy axe shall harm it not. 
 
 2. That old familiar tree, 
 Whose glory and renown, 
 Are spread o'er land and sea, 
 And would'st thou hack it down ? 
 Woodman, forbear thy stroke! 
 Cut not its earth-bound ties, 
 Oh ! spare the aged oak 
 Now towering to the skies. 
 
 3. When but an idle boy, 
 I sought its grateful shade, 
 In all their gushing joy 
 There too my sisters played ; 
 
148 SELECT PIECES 
 
 My mother kissed me here — 
 My father pressed my hand,— • 
 Forgive this foolish tear, 
 But let the old oak stand. 
 
 4. My heart strings round thee cling, 
 Close as thy bark, old friend ! 
 Here shall the wild bird sing, 
 And still thy branches bend ; 
 Old tree the storm shall brave, 
 And woodman leave the spot ! 
 While I've a hand to save, 
 Thy axe shall harm thee not. 
 
 The author is indebted to the "Schenectady Reflector" for a know- 
 ledge of the incidents upon which this beautiful and affecting poem W 
 founded. Such a poem, when we become familiar with the circumstances 
 under which it was written, breathes a charm over the cold realities of 
 life. That paper says, in substance, that a family of opulence, consisting 
 of the parents and a large number of sons and daughters, resided near 
 the city of New- York; and that their home was an earthly paradise. 
 But it did not long continue. The failures of those for whom the old 
 gentleman endorsed, swept away every farthing of his property. All died 
 but the youngest son. He went to the south, and gained, a fortune ; and 
 then returned to his old home, which however, was so situated, that he 
 could not possess himself of it. He visited the sacred grounds periodi- 
 cally. When Col. Morris accompanied him, they saw a woodman, stand- 
 ing by the " aged oak," near the old cottage, sharpening his axe. The 
 stranger put spurs to his horse, rode swiftly up, and accosted him thus : 
 " What are you going to do V " 1 intend to cut down this tree," replied 
 the woodman. " What for ']" " I want it for fire wood." " If you want 
 fire wood," said the stranger, "why did you not go to yonder forest, and 
 let this old oak stand V " You see I am an old man," replied the woodman, 
 " and I have not strength to bring my wood so far." " If I will give you 
 enough money, to hire as much wood, brought to your door, as this tree 
 will make, will you forever let it stand V 1 The woodman replied, " Yes." 
 They executed a bond that the tree should remain ; and the stranger 
 turned to Col. Morris, and said, with a generous tear sparkling in his eye, 
 " in youth it sheltered me, and I'll protect it now." It affected the colonel 
 deeply, as it would every man who had a heart capable of feeling j and, 
 on his return to New- York, he wrote the above exquisite lines. 
 
 59. The Union. — D. Webster. 
 
 1. While the union lasts, we have high, exciting-, gratifying 
 prospects, spread out before us, for us, and our children. Be- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 149 
 
 yond that, I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that, 
 in my day, at least, that curtain may not rise. God grant that, 
 on my vision, never may be opened what lies behind ! 
 
 2. When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last 
 time, the sun in the heavens, may I not see him shining on 
 the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious union ; 
 on states dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent 
 with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood ! 
 
 3. Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold 
 the gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known and honored 
 throughout the world, — its arms and trophies streaming in 
 their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a sin- 
 gle star obscured, — bearing for its motto, no such miserable 
 interrogatory, as, — What is all this worth? nor those other 
 words of delusion and folly, " Libert]/ first, and union after- 
 wards ;" but every where, spread all over in characters of liv- 
 ing light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the 
 sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole 
 heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American 
 heart—" Liberty and union, now and forever, one and in- 
 separable" 
 
 The above is the conclusion of Mr. Webster's speech in 1830, on Mr. 
 Foote's land resolution, in reply to Gen. Hayne of South Carolina. 
 
 60. Marco Bozzaris. — jF. G. Halleck 
 
 1. At midnight, in his guarded tent, 
 
 The Turk was dreaming of the hour 
 When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, 
 
 Should tremble at his power ; 
 In dreams, through camp and court, he bore 
 The trophies of a conqueror ; 
 
 In dreams, his song of triumph heard ; 
 Then wore his monarch's signet ring ; 
 Then pressed that monarch's throne, — a king ; 
 As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, 
 
 As Eden's garden bird. 
 
 13* 
 
150 SELECT PIECES 
 
 2. At midnight, in the forest shades, 
 
 Bozzaris ranged his Suliote band, 
 True as the steel of their tried blades, 
 
 Heroes in heart and hand. 
 There had the Persian's thousands stood, 
 There had the glad earth drunk their blood 
 
 On old Plataea's day, 
 And now, there breathed that haunted air 
 The sons of sires who conquered there, 
 With arm to strike, and soul to dare, 
 
 As quick, as far as they. 
 
 ' j 
 
 3. An hour passed on-^-the Turk awoke ; 
 
 That bright dream was his last ; 
 He woL" — to hear his sentries shriek, 
 " To arms ! they come I the Greek ! the Greek ! n 
 He woke — to die midst flame, and smoke, 
 And shout, and groan, and sabre-stroke, 
 
 And death-shots falling thick and fast 
 As lightnings from the mountain cloud ; 
 And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, 
 
 Bozzaris cheer his band : 
 " Strike — till the last arm'd foe expires ; 
 Strike — for your altars and your fires ; 
 Strike — for the green graves of your sires ; 
 
 God — and your native land !" 
 
 4. They fought — like brave men, long and well ; 
 
 They piled that ground with Moslem slain j 
 They conquered — but Bozzaris fell, 
 
 Bleeding at every vein. 
 His few surviving comrades saw 
 His smile, when rang their proud huzza, 
 
 And the red field was won ; 
 Then saw in death his eyelids close 
 Calmly, as to a night's repose, 
 
 Like flowers at set of sun. 
 
 5. Come to the bridal chamber, Death ! 
 
 Come to the mother, when she feels, 
 For the first time, her first-born's breath ; 
 Come when the blessed seals 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 151 
 
 That close the pestilence are broke, 
 And crowded cities wail its stroke ; 
 Come in consumption's ghastly form, 
 The earthquake's shock, the ocean's storm ; 
 Come when the heart beats high and warm, 
 
 With banquet-song, and dance, and wine ; 
 And thou art terrible ! — The tear, 
 The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier ; 
 And all we know, or dream, or fear 
 
 Of agony, are thine. 
 
 But to the hero, when his sword 
 
 Has won the battle for the free, 
 Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word ; 
 And in its hollow tones are heard 
 
 The thanks of millions yet to be. 
 Bozzaris ! with the storied brave 
 
 Greece nurtured in her glory's time, 
 Rest thee : — There is no prouder grave, 
 
 Even in her own proud clime. 
 
 We tell thy doom without a sigh ; 
 For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's ; 
 One of the few, the immortal names, 
 
 That were not born to die. 
 
 Marco Bozzaris, the Epaminondas of Modern Greece, fell in a night 
 attack upon the Turkish camp, at Laspi, the site of the ancient Platsea, 
 August 30, 1823, and expired in the moment of victory. His last words 
 were — " To die for liberty is a pleasure, and not a pain." 
 
 John L. Stephens, who is greatly distinguished as an author of " Trav- 
 els," says that he saw his widow, and apprised her of the high estimation 
 in which Americans hold the name and memory of Marco Bozzaris. 
 
 This piece renders the name of our countryman, by whom it was writ- 
 ten, almost as imperishable as that of the hero, to whom it relates. "> In 
 reciting or declaiming it, the voice should undergo great changes in pitch 
 and quantity. The third verse, except the first three lines, and the last, 
 should be given on a high key, — the fifth verse on a low key. 
 
 61. Speech of Edmund Burke, 
 
 1. Since I had the honor, I should say, the dishonor, of sit- 
 ting in this house, I have been witness to many strange, many 
 
152 SELECT PIECES 
 
 infamous transactions. What can be your intention in attack- 
 ing all honor and virtue? Do you mean, to bring all men to 
 a level with yourselves, and to extirpate all honor and inde- 
 pendence ? Perhaps you imagine, a vote will settle the whole 
 controversy. Alas ! you are not aware, that the manner in 
 which your vote is procured, is a secret to no man. 
 
 2. Listen. For if you are not totally callous, if your con- 
 sciences are not seared, I will speak daggers to your souls, 
 and wake you to all the pangs of guilty recollection. I will 
 follow you with whips and stings, through every maze of 
 your unexampled turpitude, and plant thorns under the rose 
 of ministerial approbation. 
 
 3. You have flagrantly violated justice, and the law of the 
 land, and opened a door for anarchy and confusion. Aftei 
 assuming an arbitrary dominion over law and justice, you 
 issue orders, warrants, and proclamations, against every oppo- 
 nent ; and send prisoners to your Bastile, all those who have 
 the courage and virtue, to defend the freedom of their country. 
 
 4. But it is in vain that you hope by fear and terror, to ex- 
 tinguish the native British fire. The more sacrifices — the 
 more martyrs you make, the more numerous the sons of lib- 
 erty will become. They will multiply like the hydra, and 
 hurl vengeance on your heads. 
 
 5. Let others act as they will ; while I have a tongue or an 
 arm, they shall be free. And that I may not be a witness of 
 these monstrous proceedings, I will leave the house ; nor do I 
 doubt, but every independent, every honest man, every friend 
 to England, will follow me. These walls are unholy, baleful, 
 deadly, while a prostitute majority holds the bolt of parlia- 
 mentary power, and hurls its vengeance only upon the virtu- 
 ous. To yourselves, therefore, I consign you. Enjoy your 
 pandemonium. 
 
 This powerful speech was made in the year 1770, against a motion in- 
 troduced by a member of the British parliament, to send the Lord Mayor 
 of London and Alderman Oliver to the tower. At the close of it, all the 
 gentlemen in the opposition rose as one man, and left the house. Mr. 
 Burke was born in 1729, and died at the age of 68. He was one of the 
 greatest and best men, that England ever produced. He wisely said: 
 " Education is the cheap defence of nations." 
 
 The committee on colleges, academies, and common schools, of which 
 the Hon. L. H. Brown was chairman, in their report made March 26, 
 1845, in the legislature of the state of New- York, say, with equal wisdom, 
 "lna free community school houses are a better defence than forts ; good 
 
FOR EXERCISES* 153 
 
 school masters better than the officers of a standing army ; and good books 
 of instruction better weapons than bayonets and swords." 
 
 The orator doubtless delivered this speech with great and increasing en- 
 ergy and power ; and it need scarcely be added, that it should thus bo 
 declaimed. 
 
 62. The Right of Instructing Representatives. — E. Burke. 
 
 1. Gentlemen : — My worthy colleague expresses himself, 
 if I understand him rightly, in favor of a coercive authority of 
 instructions from constituents. Certainly, it ought to be the 
 happiness and glory of a representative, to live in the strictest 
 union, the closest correspondence, and the most unreserved 
 communication with his constituents. 
 
 2. Their wishes ought to have great weight with him ; their 
 opinion high respect ; their business, unremitted attention. It 
 is his duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satisfac- 
 tions, to theirs; and, above all, ever, and in all cases, to prefer 
 their interests to his own. But his unbiased opinion, his ma- 
 ture judgment, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to 
 sacrifice to you, to any man, or to any set of men living. 
 
 3. These he does not derive from your pleasure ; no, nor 
 from the law or the constitution. They are a trust from 
 Providence, for the abuse of which, he is deeply answerable 
 Your representative owes you, not his industry only, but his 
 judgment ; and he betrays, instead of serving you, if he sacri- 
 fices it to your opinion. 
 
 4. The gentleman says, his will ought to be subservient to 
 yours. If that be all, the thing is innocent. If government 
 were a matter of will upon any side, yours, without question, 
 ought to be superior. But government and legislation are 
 matters of reason and judgment, and not of inclination ; and 
 what sort of reason is that, in which the determination pre- 
 cedes the discussion ; in which one set of men deliberate, and 
 another decide ; and where those who form the conclusion, 
 are, perhaps, three hundred miles distant from those who hear 
 the arguments ? 
 
 5. To deliver an opinion is the right of all men ; that of 
 constituents, is a weighty and respectable opinion, which a 
 representative ought always to rejoice to hear, and which he 
 
154 
 
 
 ought always most seriously *to x cbnsi'der. But authoritative 
 instructions, mandates issued, which the member is bound 
 blindly and implicitly to obey, to vote and to argue for, though 
 contrary to the clearest conviction of his judgment and con- 
 science ; these are things utterly unknown to the laws of this 
 land, and which arise from a fundamental mistake of the whole 
 order and tenor of our constitution. 
 
 6. Parliament is not a congress of ambassadors from differ- 
 ent and hostile interests ; which interests each must maintain, 
 as an agent and advocate, against other agents and advocates ; 
 but parliament is a deliberative assembly of one nation, with 
 one interest, that of the whole, where not local purposes, not 
 local prejudices, ought to guide, but the general good, result- 
 ing from the general reason of the whole. 
 
 7. You choose a member indeed ; but when you have chosen 
 him, he is not a member of Bristpl, but he is a member of 
 parliament. If the local constituents should have an interest, 
 or should form a hasty opinion, evidently opposite to the real 
 good of the rest of the community, the member for that place, 
 ought to be as far as any other, from an endeavor to give it 
 effect. 
 
 8. As for the trifling petulance which the rage of party stirs 
 up in little minds, it has not made the slightest impression on 
 me. The highest flight of such clamorous birds, is winged in 
 an inferior region of the air. 
 
 Mr. Burke's observations on the right of constituents to instruct repre- 
 sentatives, are worthy the attention of the American people. He presents 
 the subject to the electors of Bristol, in its true light. It is very desirable, 
 that the representative should reflect, as a mirror, the will of his constitu- 
 ents ; and yet, he should not be the mere pen with which they write. Mr. 
 Burke's speech should be read or recited in an animated manner, and on 
 a middle key. * 
 
 63. Hamlet's Soliloquy on Death. — Shakspeare. 
 
 1. To be — or not to be — that is the question! 
 Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 
 The stings and arrows of outrageous fortune, — 
 Or, to take arms against a sea of troubles, 
 And, by opposing, end them. — To die ? — to sleep ; — 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 155 
 
 No more ; — and, by a sleep to say we end 
 The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shock? 
 That flesh is heir to ; — 'tis a consummation 
 Devoutly to be wish'd ! To die ; — to sleep ; — 
 To sleep ? perchance to dream ; — aye, there's the rub ; 
 For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come 
 When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, 
 Must give us pause ! 
 
 2. There's the respect 
 
 That makes calamity of so long life ; 
 
 For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, 
 
 The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, 
 
 The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, 
 
 The insolence of office, and the spurns 
 
 That patient merit of the unworthy takes, 
 
 When he himself might his quietus make 
 
 With a bare bodkin ? 
 
 3. Who would fardels bear, 
 To groan and sweat under a weary life ; 
 
 But that the dread of something after death, — 
 The undiscover'd country, from whose bourne 
 No traveller returns, — puzzles the will ; 
 And makes us rather bear those ills we have, 
 Than fly to others that we know not of. — 
 
 4. Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ; 
 And thus the native hue of resolution 
 
 Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought ; 
 And enterprises of great pith and moment, 
 With this regard, their currents turn away, 
 And lose the name of action. 
 
 Hamlet's Soliloquy is, as has been well observed, " one of the most diffi- 
 cult things to read in the English language." It requires nice discrimina- 
 tion, as well as great powers of elocution. It is one of Shakspeare's most 
 admirable productions. It does not, however, teach us a useful moral les- 
 son. Hamlet ought to have been deterred from self-destruction, by con- 
 siderations of duty to himself, his fellow-citizens, and his God. The 
 doctrine of expediency, by which he appears to have been governed, is a 
 doctrine not of Christ ; it is practical atheism. Hamlet ought to have been 
 governed, not by expediency, but by principle — by Christian morality. 
 The soliloquy can be read or recited well, only by those who both per- 
 
56 SELECT PIECES 
 
 fectly understand, and thoroughly feel, the sentiments which it contains. 
 It should be commenced deliberately, on a middle key. The indignant 
 feeling with which the prince enumerates particulars, " The oppressor'* 
 wrongs," &c. requires the voice gradually to rise on each. The concluding 
 part of the soliloquy, requires quantity, and rather slow time. 
 
 
 64. Speech of King Richard III. — Shakspeare. 
 
 1. Give me another horse — bind up my wounds, — 
 Have mercy, Jesu ! — Soft ; I did but dream. 
 
 coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me ! — 
 The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight. 
 Cold, — fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. 
 What do 1 fear ? myself? there's none else by, — 
 Richard loves Richard ; that is, I am I. 
 
 2. Is there a murderer here ? No : — Yes ; I am. 
 
 Then fly. — What, from myself! Great reason,— Why ? 
 Lest I revenge. What ? Myself on myself? 
 
 1 love myself. Wherefore ? for any good 
 That I myself have done unto myself? 
 
 O, no : alas ! I rather hate myself, 
 For hateful deeds committed by myself. 
 
 3. I am a villain ! Yet I lie, I am not. 
 
 Fool ! of thyself speak well :-*-Fool, do not flatter. 
 My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, 
 And every tongue brings in a several tale, 
 And every tale condemns me for a villain. 
 Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree : 
 Murder, stern murder, in the direst degree ; 
 All several sins, all us'd in each degree, 
 Throng to the bar, crying all — Guilty ! guilty ! 
 
 4. I shall despair. — There is no creature loves me ; 
 And, if I die, no soul will pity me ; — 
 
 Nay, wherefore should they? since that I myself 
 Find in myself no pity to myself. 
 Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd 
 Came to my tent ; and every one did threat 
 To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 157 
 
 This speech of King Richard is, in the author's opinion, not merely one 
 of the most difficult pieces to read or recite in our language, but the most 
 difficult. It was made on Bosworth field, when Shakspeare's spectral illu- 
 sions of King Richard's murdered victims, called ghosts, appeared to him, 
 the shade of each of whom, pointed towards him, with a clay-cold, but 
 unerring hand, and cried, in a voice which harrowed up his soul : " Thou 
 art my murderer, despair and die." When the ghost vanished, he started 
 out of his dream, and made the above speech, in which he acknowledges 
 himself to have been a villain and a murderer. His name is, as Glueen 
 Anne predicted it would be, " a by-word for tyranny," 
 
 His speech should be commenced abruptly, and on a high key. The 
 voice should fall to a low note on the second line. The fifth line, " Cold, 
 fearful drops," &c. requires slow time and quantity. The questions which 
 he puts to himself, require rising inflections ; the answers he makes, fall- 
 ing inflections. Those portions of his speech in which he speaks of his 
 crimes, require a high key, and great energy. 
 
 65, There's nothing True but Heaven. — Thomas Moore. 
 
 1. This world is all a fleeting show, 
 
 For man's illusion given ; 
 The smiles of joy, the tears of wo, 
 Deceitful shine, deceitful flow — 
 
 There's nothing true but Heaven. 
 
 2. And false the light on glory's plume, 
 
 As fading hues of even ; 
 And love, and hope, and beauty's bloom 
 Are blossoms gathered for the tomb — 
 
 There's nothing bright but Heaven. 
 
 ). Poor wanderers of a stormy day, 
 From wave to wave we're driven ; 
 And fancy's flash, and reason's ray, 
 Serve but to light the troubled way — 
 There's nothing calm but Heaven. 
 
 
 The writer has only to say to the reader in reference to these (wo 
 pieces — 65 and 66— -" look first on this" beautiful poem, "and then on 
 that" and read or recite them both on a low key, with quantify, and with 
 rhetorical pauses alter uttering each of the six italicised words. 
 14 
 
118 SELECT PIECES 
 
 66. Heaven. — Anonymous. 
 
 1. This world's not " all a fleeting show. 
 
 For man's illusion given — " 
 He that hath sooth'd a widow's wo, 
 Or wip'd an orphan's tear, doth know 
 
 There's something here of Heaven. 
 
 2. And he that walks life's thorny way 
 
 With feelings calm and even, 
 Whose path is lit, from day to day, 
 By virtue's bright and steady ray, 
 
 Hath something felt of Heaven. 
 
 3. He that the Christian's course hath run, 
 
 And all his foes forgiven, 
 Who measures out life's little span 
 In love to God, and lore to man, 
 
 On earth hath tasted Heaven. 
 
 67. Religion. — Rev. Alva Wood. 
 
 1. While we are disposed to allow, to their full extent, the 
 pleasures of literary pursuit, and the important advantages of 
 intellectual illumination, it must be confessed, that man has 
 wants which nothing can supply, and woes which nothing can 
 relieve, but the sanative influence of religion. 
 
 2. What can moderate anger, resentment, malice, or revenge, 
 like the thought, that we may ask God to forgive our tres- 
 passes, only as we forgive the trespasses of others ? What can 
 quiet murmurings at our lot, like the deep sense of moral de- 
 merit, which the gospel presses on the conscience ? What can 
 cool the burnings of envy, or allay the passion for renown, 
 like a remembrance of the transitory nature of all human 
 glory. 
 
 3. What can produce resignation to the loss of friends, like 
 a confident hope of meeting them soon in a brighter world ? 
 What can prompt to deeds of benevolence, like the example 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 159 
 
 of Him, who, though he was rich, for our sakes, became poor ? 
 Is there any thing which can give steadiness to purpose, or 
 stability to character, like an unwavering regard to the will 
 of God? 
 
 4. Considerations of mere worldly policy, or interest, fur- 
 nish no steady magnetic influence to give one uniform direc- 
 tion to all the plans and actions of life. Patriotism may fire 
 the spirit with valor, to sustain the onset of an invading foe, 
 and bare the breast to the rushing tide of war ; — but who can 
 meet with unruffled temper, the thousand petty ills that life is 
 heir to, like him whose aim is heaven ? 
 
 5. What sublimity, like moral sublimity, whether we re- 
 gard the grandeur, or permanency of its effects? What more 
 sublime than the triumph of a dying Christian when, in the 
 midst of its decaying and crumbling habitation, the spirit 
 plumes itself for its lofty flight, and departs in the buoyancy 
 of hope, for the regions of eternal day ? These are the gifts 
 of Christianity. 
 
 6. But it is on man, in his social capacities, and political 
 relations, that moral principle is destined to exert its most im- 
 portant influence. It is in society that man has power. It is 
 in society, that virtue developes its benevolent tendencies, and 
 that vice scatters fire-brands, arrows, and death. Has the ex- 
 ample of vice wrought powerfully? so has that of virtue. 
 Have many been beguiled to their destruction by the enticings 
 of the sinful? multitudes have been allured by the persuasions 
 of the good, to fairer worlds on high. 
 
 This extract is from the Rev. Mr. Wood's discourse at his inauguration, 
 as president of the Transylvania University ; October 13, 1828. He suc- 
 ceeded Dr. Holley, 
 
 68. God's Incomprehensibility. — Dr. Chalmers. 
 
 1. While the spirituality of God's nature places him be- 
 yond the reach of our direct cognizance, there are certain 
 other essential properties of his nature, which place him be- 
 yond the reach of our possible comprehension. Let me in- 
 stance the past eternity of the Godhead. One might figure a 
 futurity that never ceases to flow, and which has no termina- 
 
160 SELECT PIECES 
 
 tion ; but who can climb his ascending way, among the ob- 
 scurities of that infinite which is behind him ? 
 
 2. Who can travel in thought, along the track of genera- 
 tions gone by, till he has overtaken the eternity, which lies in 
 that direction? Who can look across the millions of ages 
 which have elapsed, and from an ulterior post of observation, 
 look again to another, and another succession of centuries ; 
 and. from each further extremity in this series of retrospects, 
 stretch backward his regards on an antiquity, as remote and 
 indefinite as ever ? Could we, by any number of successive 
 strides o^er these mighty intervals, at length, reach the fountain- 
 head of duration, our spirits might be at rest. 
 
 3. But to think of duration, as having no fountain-head ; to 
 think of time, with no beginning ; to uplift the imagination 
 along the heights of an antiquity, which hath positively no 
 summit ; to soar these upward steeps, till, dizzied by the alti- 
 tude, we can keep no longer on the wing ; for the mind to 
 make these repeated flights from one pinnacle to another, and 
 instead of scaling the mysterious elevation, to lie baffled at its 
 foot, or lose itself among the far, the long-withdrawing recesses 
 of that primeval distance, which at length, merges away into 
 a fathomless unknown ;.— this is an exercise, utterly discom- 
 fiting to the puny faculties of man. 
 
 This extract is from the works of Rev. Thomas Chalmers, LL. D., of 
 Edinburgh, on " Natural Theology." 
 
 69. Missionary Hymn. — Bishop Heber. 
 
 1. From Greenland's icy mountains. 
 
 From India's coral strand ; 
 Where Afric's sunny fountains 
 
 Roll down their golden sand ; 
 From many an ancient river, 
 
 From many a palmy plain, 
 They call us to deliver 
 
 Their land from error's chain. 
 
 2. What though the spicy breezes 
 Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle. 
 
FOR EXERCISER 161 
 
 Though every prospect pleases, 
 
 And only man is vile? 
 In vain with lavish kindness, 
 
 The gifts of God are strown, 
 The heathen, in his blindness. 
 
 Bows down to wood and stone. 
 
 3. Shall we, whose souls are lighted 
 
 With wisdom from on high j 
 Shall we, to men benighted, 
 
 The lamp of life deny % 
 Salvation ! O Salvation ! 
 
 The joyful sound proclaim, 
 Till earth's remotest nation 
 
 Has learnt Messiah's name. 
 
 4. Waft, waft, ye winds, his story; 
 
 And you, ye waters, roll, 
 Till, like a sea of glory, 
 
 It spreads from pole to pole ; 
 Till o'er our ransomed nature, 
 
 The Lamb, for sinners slain, 
 Redeemer, King, Creator, 
 
 In bliss returns to reign. 
 
 This popular hymn was written by the bishop, just before he left Eng- 
 land for India. Like all other solemn pieces of poetry, it requires long 
 quantity, and rather a low key. The voice should, however, be somewhat 
 elevated on the words in italic, and yet not enough to be disagreeable to 
 the ear. 
 
 70. Soliloquy on the Princess Thekla. — Frederic Schiller. 
 
 1. It is his spirit calls me ! 'Tis the host 
 Of faithful souls that sacrificed themselves 
 In fiery vengeance for him. They upbraid me 
 For this loit'ring, — they in death forsook him not 
 Who in their life had led them ; their rude hearts 
 Were capable of this ; and / can live ;— 
 No ! No ! That laurel garland which they laid 
 Upon his bier was twined for both of us ! 
 14* 
 
162 SELECT PIECES 
 
 What is this life without the light of love ? 
 I cast it from me since its worth is gone. 
 Yes, when we found and loved each other, life 
 Was something ! Glittering lay before me 
 The golden morn ; I had two hours of heaven. 
 
 2. Thou stoodest at the threshold of the scene 
 Of busy life ; with timid steps it crossed it : 
 How fair it lay in solemn shade and sheen ! 
 And thou beside me, like some angel, posted 
 To lead me out of childhood's fairy land, 
 On to life's glancing summit, hand in hand ! 
 My first thought was of joy no tongue can tell, 
 My first look on thy spotless spirit fell. 
 And Fate put forth its hand,— inexorable, cold, 
 My friend it grasp'd, and clutch'd with iron hold, — 
 
 And under the hoofs of their wild horses hurl'd, — 
 
 Such is the fate of loveliness i' th' world I 
 
 This beautiful Soliloquy is from the tragedy of Wallenstine, written by 
 the celebrated German poet, Schiller. He died in the year 1805 in the 
 45th year of his age. The Princess Thekla had been married, it seems, 
 but two hours before her husband was killed. The Soliloquy requires to 
 be given on a low key, with quantity, and rhetorical pauses. 
 
 71. Lines for the Fourth of July.— Anonymous, 
 
 1. Hail our country's natal morn ! 
 Hail our spreading kindred born ! 
 Hail thou banner not yet torn ! 
 
 Waving o'er the free .' 
 
 2. While this day in festal throng. 
 Millions swell the patriot song, 
 Shall not we thy notes prolong. 
 
 Hallowed jubilee 2 
 
 3 Who would sever freedom's shrine? 
 Who would draw the invidious line? 
 Though by birth one spot be mine. 
 Dear is all the rest. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 163 
 
 4. Dear to me the South's fair land. 
 Dear the central mountain band. 
 Dear New England's rocky strand, 
 
 Dear the prairied West. 
 
 5. By our altars, pure and free, 
 By our law's deep rooted tree, 
 By the past dread memory, 
 
 By our Washington ! 
 
 6. By our common parent tongue, 
 
 By our hopes, bright, buoyant, young, 
 By the tie of country, strong, 
 
 We will still be one. 
 
 7. Fathers ! have ye bled in vain ? 
 Ages ! must ye droop again ? 
 Maker! shall we rashly stain 
 
 Blessings sent by thee ? 
 
 8. No ! receive our solemn vow, 
 While below thy throne we bow, 
 Ever to maintain as now, 
 
 Union, Liberty. 
 
 These truly patriotic lines are admirably suited to each returning anni-- 
 versary of our national independence, in all parts of the United States. 
 
 72. A Beautiful Gem. — Jt. j|. Mervey. 
 
 1. I know thou art gone to the land of thy rest; 
 
 Then why should my soul be so sad ? 
 I know thou art gone where the weary are blest, 
 
 And the mourner looks up and is glad ; 
 Where Love has put off in the land of its birth, 
 
 The stain it has gathered in this, 
 And Hope, the sweet singer that gladden'd the earth, 
 
 Lies asleep in the bosom of bliss. 
 
 2. I know thou art gone where thy forehead is starr'd 
 
 With the beauty that dwelt in thy soul. 
 
164 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Where the light of thy loveliness cannot be marred, 
 Nor thy heart be flung back from its goal ; 
 
 I know thou hast drunk of the Lethe that flows 
 Through a land where they do not forget ; 
 
 That sheds over memory only repose. 
 And takes from it only regret. 
 
 3. This eye must be dark that so long has been dim, 
 
 Ere again it may gaze upon thine ; 
 But my heart has revealings of thee and thy home, 
 
 In many a token and sign ; 
 I never look up with a vow, to the sky, 
 
 But a light like thy beauty is there ; 
 And I hear a love murmur, like thine, in reply, 
 
 When I pour out my spirit in prayer. 
 
 4. In the far-away dwelling, wherever it be, 
 
 I believe thou hast visions of mine ; 
 And the love that made all things as music to me, 
 
 I have not yet learned to resign. 
 In the hush of the night, on the waste of the sea, 
 
 Or alone with the breeze on the hill, 
 I have ever a presence that whispers of thee, 
 
 And my spirit lies down and is still. 
 
 5. And though like a mourner that sits by a tomb, 
 
 I am wrapped in a mantle of care, 
 Yet the grief of my bosom — oh ! call it not gloom, 
 
 Is not the black grief of despair. 
 By sorrow revealed as the stars are by night 
 
 Far off a bright vision appears ; 
 And Hope, like the rainbow — a creature of light, 
 
 Is born, like the rainbow, in tears. 
 
 The proper elocution of this "beautiful Gem," will readily occur to the 
 reader, especially to the bereaved husband or wife. 
 
 73. How Scholars are made. — D. Webster. 
 
 1. Costly apparatus and splendid cabinets have no magical 
 power to make scholars. In all circumstances, as a man is, 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 165 
 
 under God, the master of his own fortune, so is he the maker 
 of his own mind. The Creator has so constituted the human 
 intellect, that it can grow only by its own action, and by its 
 own action, it most certainly and necessarily grows. 
 
 2. Every man mast, therefore, in an important sense, edu- 
 cate himself. His books and teachers are but helps ; the work 
 is his. A man is not educated until he has the ability to 
 summon, in case of emergency, all his mental powers in 
 vigorous exercise, to effect his proposed object. 
 
 3. It is not the man who has seen most, or who has read 
 most, who can do this ; such an one is in danger of being 
 borne down, like a beast of burden, by an overloaded mass of 
 other men's thoughts. Nor is it the man that can boast merely 
 of native vigor and capacity. 
 
 4. The greatest of ail the warriors that went to the siege of 
 Troy, had not the preeminence, because nature had given 
 him strength, and he carried the largest bow, but because 
 self-discipline had taught him how to bend it. 
 
 74. Books. — Dr. Channing. 
 
 1. It is chiefly through books that we enjoy intercourse 
 with superior minds, and these invaluable means of communi- 
 cation are in reach of all. In the best books, great men talk 
 to us, give us their most precious thoughts, and pour their 
 souls into ours. 
 
 2. God be thanked for books. They are the voices of the 
 distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life of 
 past ages. Books are the true levellers. They give to all 
 who will faithfully use them, the society, the spiritual presence 
 of the best and greatest of our race. 
 
 3. No matter how poor I am, no matter though the pros- 
 perous of my own time will not enter my obscure dwelling, if 
 the sacred writers will enter and take up their abode under 
 my roof, if Milton will cross my threshold, to sing to me of 
 Paradise, and Shakspeare, to open to me the worlds of imagi- 
 nation, and the workings of the human heart, and Franklin, 
 to enrich me with his practical wisdom, I shall not pine for 
 want of intellectual companionship ; and I may become a qui- 
 
166 SELECT PIECES 
 
 tivated man, though excluded from what is called the best so- 
 ciety in the place where I live. 
 
 These beautiful and excellent remarks on books, were made by Dr. 
 Channing in the course of his address, introductory to the " Franklin Lec- 
 tures," delivered at Boston, in 1838, on " Self- Culture." 
 
 75. Gilbert Motier de Lafayette. — John Quincy Adams. 
 
 1. Fellow citizens: — Ages have passed away since Lafay- 
 ette said, " May this immense i Temple of Freedom' ever 
 stand, a lesson to oppressors, an example to the oppressed, a 
 sanctuary for the rights of mankind ! and may these happy 
 United States attain that complete splendor and prosperity, 
 which will illustrate the blessings of their government, and for 
 ages to come, rejoice the departed souls of its founders !" but 
 ages are the years of the existence of nations. 
 
 2. The founders of this immense " Temple of Freedom" 
 have all departed, save here and there a solitary exception, 
 even while I speak, at the point of taking wing. The prayer 
 of Lafayette is not consummated. Ages upon ages are still to 
 pass away, before it can have its full accomplishment ; and for 
 its full accomplishment, his spirit, hovering over our heads, in 
 more than echoes, talks around these walls. 
 
 3. It repeats the prayer which from his lips fifty years ago, 
 was at once a parting blessing and a prophecy ; for were it 
 possible for the whole human race, now breathing the breath 
 of life, to be assembled within this " Hall," your orator would, 
 in your name, and in that of your constituents, appeal to them, 
 to testify for your fathers of the last generation, that, so far as 
 depended upon them, the blessing of Lafayette has been 
 prophecy. 
 
 4. Yes ! This immense " Temple of Freedom" still stands, 
 a lesson to oppressors, an example to the oppressed, and a 
 sanctuary for the rights of mankind. Yes! with the smiles 
 of a benignant Providence, the splendor and prosperity of these 
 happy United States, have illustrated the blessings of their 
 government, and we may humbly hope, have rejoiced the de- 
 parted souls of its founders. 
 
 5. For the past, your fathers and you, have been responsi- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 167 
 
 ble. The charge of the future, devolves upon you, and your 
 children. The vestal fire of freedom is in your custody! 
 May the souls of its departed founders never be called to wit- 
 ness its extinction by neglect, nor a soil upon the purity of its 
 keepers. 
 
 The above beautiful and eloquent extract is from an " Oration on the 
 life and character of Gilbert Motier de Lafayette, delivered at the request 
 of both houses of the congress of the United States, before them, in the 
 house of representatives, at Washington, on the 31st of December, 1834, 
 by Hon. John Gtuincy Adams." Lafayette, who was born in France, in 
 September, 1757, came to America at the early age of 19, which was soon 
 after the adoption of the " Declaration ;" and, voluntarily joining the army 
 of Washington, devoted himself, his life, and fortune, to the patriotic and 
 righteous cause of North American independence. In the year 1785, he 
 returned to France, where he remained about forty years, and then he re- 
 visited the people of the United States, by whom he was hailed welcome, — 
 thrice welcome. His reception was cordial, glorious, and triumphant. 
 The sentiment pervaded every bosom. 
 
 " We bow not the neck, we bend not the knee ; 
 But our hearts, Lafayette, we surrender to thee." 
 
 After the expiration of a brief period he again returned to France, where 
 he continued to take a deep interest in the concerns of the American peo- 
 ple, till the close of his life. The noble spirit of liberty which animated 
 Lafayette, pervades the mind of his eulogist, ex-President Adams. Let 
 us all cherish it " as the immediate jewel of the soul," and exclaim: 
 
 " For ever float the standard sheet, 
 
 Where lives the foe but falls before us ; 
 With freedom's soil beneath our feet, 
 And freedom's banner waving o'er us." 
 
 76. Part of a Speech of Elisha Williams. 
 
 1. Gentlemen of the jury : — In all human probability this 
 is the last time, that I shall ever address a jury of my beloved 
 county of Columbia. I have had the honor of entering this 
 hall of justice for about forty years; but prejudice and corrup- 
 tion never entered it before. Prejudice is an innocent passion, 
 so long as its possessor is unconscious of its existence ; but 
 when he becomes conscious of the existence of prejudice, it 
 becomes corruption. Every thing, gentlemen, that I have at- 
 tempted to introduce, in the shape of testimony, has been clip- 
 ped by the long scissors of the law. 
 
168 SELECT PIECES 
 
 2. You have arraigned at your bar, a young man of highly 
 respectable parentage, and interesting to all the circumstances 
 connected with this important transaction, just bursting from 
 the bud of infancy, and opening in the blossom of youth. I 
 have not been accustomed to address a jury of my beloved 
 county of Columbia, with trembling or fear, or under circum- 
 stances calculated to deter me, from the discharge of my duty. 
 Now, as on former occasions, I see in that jury box, men whom 
 I have long known, and whom I honor and respect. 
 
 3. But, gentlemen, I know you to be but men, subject to 
 the like passions, prejudices, and frailties of our nature. 1 
 tremble from another cause. I have been accustomed to ad- 
 dress the minds of a jury, unwarped by prejudice, unruffled 
 by passion, and undisturbed by feeling. I know the load of 
 prejudice which has weighed down my client's hopes. Noth- 
 ing has been left undojie, which could be done, to operate 
 against him. The most loathsome slanders have been circu- 
 lated in the public prints, and even the altars of our God, have 
 been defiled, by this vile spirit of persecution. 
 
 4. The learned counsel from New-York has compared me 
 to a lion, that ferocious animal of the forest ; but, gentlemen, I 
 rather resemble the eagle, soaring aloft in his pride of place, 
 and pouncing, if you please, upon a dove, and scattering his 
 feathers, to the four winds of heaven. But let me tell you, 
 gentlemen, if eagles pounce upon no better vermin, than the 
 witness upon whose testimony the opposite counsel relies, no- 
 body will be injured by it. 
 
 The above extract is from the speech of the late Elisha "Williams, ad- 
 dressed to the jury upon the trial of Charles Taloe, for the murder of young 
 Crandall of Kinderhook academy. The court interrupted Mr. Williams 
 several times during the course of his remarks. At the close of them, the 
 court peremptorily stated, that he must desist in casting dishonorable and 
 uncalled for reflections. Mr. Williams, with perfect self-possession, and 
 consummate address, turned his attention to the court, and, in an under- 
 tone of great force, said : " Heaven forbid that I should detract from the 
 dignity of the court. I am willing to give it all the credit which is due." 
 
 77. On Knowledge. — DeWitt Clinton. 
 
 1. Pleasure is a shadow, wealth is vanity, and power a pa- 
 geant j but knowledge is extatic in enjoyment, perennial in 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 169 
 
 • 
 fame, unlimited in space, and infinite in duration. In the per- 
 formance of its sacred office, it fears no danger, spares no ex- 
 pense, omits no exertion. 
 
 2. It scales the mountain, looks into the volcano, dives into 
 the ocean, perforates the earth, wings its flight into the skies, 
 encircles the globe, explores the sea and land, contemplates the 
 distant, examines the minute, comprehends the great, ascends 
 to the sublime ; no place too remote for its grasp, no heavens 
 too exalted for its reach. 
 
 De Witt Clinton, son of James Clinton, a major general in the revolu- 
 tionary army, was born in Orange county, New- York, in 1769. He was 
 elected governor of his native state in 1817. Being repeatedly reelected, 
 he was acting as our chief magistrate at the time he diecL, which was Feb- 
 ruary 11th, in the year 1828. His services in the cause of education and 
 internal improvement, evince that he was a patriot and a philanthropist. 
 
 78. The Importance of Female Influence in the Tempe- 
 rance Cause. — Chancellor Walworth. 
 
 1. I cannot forbear to express the hope that the ladies will 
 continue to aid us by their powerful influence, and by pledg- 
 ing themselves to banish ardent spirits, in every form, from 
 the nursery and from the socia] family circle. I have once 
 had the pleasure to remind them of that memorable occasion 
 where the heaven-inspired Zerobabel convinced the haughty 
 Persian monarch and his assembled princes, that the influence 
 of woman was more powerful even than strong drink ; more 
 powerful than the king upon his throne ; yes, more powerful 
 than any thing save divine wisdom and truth. 
 
 2. If such was her influence in a semi-barbarous age and 
 nation, what must it be with us, when she is now raised to 
 her proper rank in society ? Females are seldom the subjects^ 
 although they are so frequently made the victims of the vice 
 of intemperance. Would to Heaven I could be permitted to 
 say it is always thus ! But truth compels me to declare that 
 this monster-has sometimes succeeded in degrading the fairest 
 and the loveliest of the creation to the level of the brutes. 
 
 3. I knew one whose father had occupied a distinguished 
 station in the councils of his country, whose mother was the 
 pattern of every social and of every christian virtue ; she was 
 
 15 
 
170 SELECT PIECES 
 
 herself lovely and intelligent, the delight of every circle in 
 which she moved ; the pride of her own family, and of her 
 numerous friends. She was also the happy mother of several 
 interesting children, who had entwined the chords of affection 
 closely around a mother's heart. 
 
 4. But alas ! this destroyer came. And before her sun had 
 reached its meridian brightness, its glory was obscured ; and 
 it finally set in the deepest gloom. She inhaled the pes- 
 tiferous breath of intemperance ; more dangerous than the 
 fatal malaria of the Pontine marshes ; more noxious than the 
 poisoned breeze from the deadly tree of Java, — more blasting 
 than the withering sirocco of the Syrian desert, — more destruc- 
 tive even than the dreaded cholera of India, which is now 
 spreading desolation, terror, and affright over the north of 
 Europe. 
 
 5. The chords of reciprocal friendship were quickly sev- 
 ered ; the bonds of maternal affection were loosed and broken ; 
 the ties of connubial love were sundered forever ; and soon, 
 very soon, the grave concealed the miserable remains of what 
 once seemed the perfection of female worth and loveliness. 
 
 6. To save one such being from temporal and eternal ruin, 
 were an object well worthy of the best exertions of the whole 
 sisterhood of charity. What mother, what daughter, what 
 sister, then, will hesitate to lend her influence and her example 
 to the cause of entire abstinence, when perhaps it may be the 
 means of saving her own beloved relative from the same 
 dreadful fate % 
 
 7. But let not our female friends believe, that the benefits 
 of their exertions or of their example, will be confined to their 
 own sex " alone. We know that with ours the influence of 
 women is most powerful, and can be most beneficially exerted. 
 We do not ask her to declaim against this vice in public as- 
 semblies, or to visit its most loathsome haunts ; but we beseech 
 her to let her influence be felt in the family circle, with her 
 relatives, and among her most intimate friends : to let the 
 moral force of her example be felt wherever she is known. 
 
 8. Were it consistent with female delicacy to mention their 
 names in public, I could refer you to the examples of some 
 among us, whose exertions in this cause have already added 
 many bright gems to those crowns of glory which are reserved 
 for them in heaven. And let it never be said of her who lin- 
 gered last at the cross, and was found first at the tomb of th% 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 171 
 
 Redeemer of the world, that, within her own proper sphere, 
 she is either unwilling, or ashamed, to follow the example of 
 her Divine Master, by going about and doing good. 
 
 The above is the close, or concluding part of an address made by Chan- 
 cellor Walworth as President of the New- York State Temperance Soci- 
 ety, at its third anniversary, in January, 1S32. He was appointed chan- 
 cellor of the state of New- York, in 1828; and was the first president of 
 the New- York State Temperance Society, w T hich was organized in Febru- 
 ary of the next year. And he is now President of the American Tempe- 
 rance Union. 
 
 If the writer were asked what is the first, second, and last thing upon 
 which a person can rely for success in the higher walks of usefulness, 
 connected with public life, he w r ould answer each time, in imitation of the 
 renowned Grecian orator, " self -culture" Chancellor Walworth, in com- 
 mon with many of the most prominent men of this country, had no other 
 education than such as could be obtained in our common schools. He has 
 found a passport to public favor, not by means of wealth, or the important 
 advantages of a liberal education ; but by the influence of industry, perse- 
 verance, and probity. The writer has heard him say, that he wasbrought 
 up as a farmer, and did not contemplate turning his attention to the study 
 of the law, until; in consequence of the overturning of a ioad of grain, that 
 he was drawing in for his father, which produced a temporary lameness, 
 he was compelled to discontinue manual labor. It is said that Sir Isaac 
 Newton discovered the great principle of gravitation, by the fall of an apple 
 which he happened to witness. The Canada Temperance Advocate 
 states, in substance, that one of the witty sons of Erin, while drunk, 
 knocked down in the street a clergyman, who instituted an action of as- 
 sault and battery against him; which, how T ever, the complainant agreed to 
 prosecute no farther, if the party who had injured him wrould sign his 
 name to the tee-total pledge, and keep his pledge for a month. He readily 
 acceded to the proposition; and, at the expiration of that period, he called 
 at the house of the divine, to whom he expressed his gratitude for the good 
 effects of the pledge to wmich he had submitted ; and he, moreover, ex- 
 pressed the utmost sorrow at not having met and knocked down his rev- 
 erence thirty years before ! In this case, it seems that good grew out of evil. 
 
 The greatest astronomer the w r orld ever produced, owed a portion of his 
 success, and fame, to the trifling circumstance already mentioned. And 
 had it not been for the accident which befel Chancellor Walworth, when 
 young, we should not perhaps have enjoyed the benefit of his judicial 
 labors. His high official station does not make him unmindful of the duty 
 which American citizens owe to their country. 
 
 It is believed that the cholera, of which the orator speaks, to illustrate 
 his subject, in the address of which I have given an extract, is the legiti- 
 mate offspring of intemperance. In 1832, that scourge followed drunk- 
 ards, from the old country, across the Atlantic, to the new. To avert its 
 ravages, to mitigate the force of its visitation, more than $100,000 were ex- 
 pended in the city of New- York alone. And all business was suspended 
 in those places where it raged; but nevertheless, those who freelv used 
 intoxicating liquors were swept away like flies. Now and then an Ewing 
 or Maynard fell a victim to the Asiatic cholera, but such instances were 
 "few and far between." The writer recollects an incident which, with 
 
172 SELECT PIECES 
 
 the reader's permission, he will relate. " The emperor of Russia sent to 
 the emperor of China, to know what he should do in case of the cholera. 
 The latter returned for answer that the inhabitants of China had noth- 
 ing to fear from cholera, except the drunkards and debauchees ; that he 
 could spare four millions of them ; and he thought it a fortunate circum- 
 stance when cholera cut them off, as no admonition could restrain them 
 from pursuing their wicked practices." 
 
 In his address, the chancellor eloquently calls upon American women, 
 to contribute their full and fair proportion of influence in behalf of the 
 temperance cause ; and that, too, without departing from the refinement 
 of their character, or the delicacy of their sex. If there be any differ- 
 ence in the necessity and importance of temperance, to one portion of the 
 human race more than another, that difference is in favor of the female 
 sex, for reasons, some of which are mentioned by the chancellor. 
 
 Cato well said, Rome governs the world, but women govern the Romans. 
 In this free and enlightened country, " blooming, smiling, lovely woman," 
 sways the regal sceptre. She is our only sovereign. The eighteen millions 
 of Anglo-Saxon descendants now inhabiting this broad continent are Jier 
 subjects. She is equally sovereign amidst the scattered inhabitants of the 
 forest, and the crowded population of our cities. Every where, and at all 
 times, she can rule by the law of kindness and love. 
 
 The cruelties and sufferings of the dark and un evangelized nations 
 dwindle into insignificance, when compared with those which are caused 
 by intemperance. Every body knows that wife-killing is very common 
 among drunkards. The Hindoo women sacrifice themselves voluntarily 
 on the funeral pile of their husbands, but drunkards' wives suffer involun- 
 tartly. Men can only " scotch the snake," called the worm of the still; 
 it is the prerogative of woman to kill it. If every young lady would adopt 
 the motto, " Total abstinence or no husband" — if all mothers would per- 
 suade their children to pledge themselves, in the spirit of Hannibal, the 
 great Carthaginian general, against all intoxicating drinks, — language 
 would be inadequate to describe the exultation with which, in view of the 
 complete triumph of temperance, " every philanthropist would strike up 
 loud and thrilling sounds of joy." 
 
 79. Speech of a Mingo Chief. — Logan. 
 
 1. I appeal to any white man to say, if ever he entered Lo- 
 gan's cabin hungry, and he gave him no meat ; if ever he 
 came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the 
 course of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle 
 in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the 
 whites, that my countrymen pointed as they passed and said, 
 " Logan is the friend of the white man." 
 
 2. I had even thought to have lived with you, but for the 
 injuries of one man. Colonel Cresap, last spring, in cold 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 173 
 
 blood, and unprovoked, murdered all the relations of Logan, 
 not even sparing my women and children. There runs not a 
 drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This 
 called on me for revenge. I have sought it, — I have killed 
 many, — I have fully glutted my vengeance. 
 
 3. For my country, I rejoice at the beams of peace ; but do 
 not harbor a thought, that mine is the joy of fear. Logan 
 never felt fear. He will not turn on his heel to save his life. 
 Who is there to mourn for Logan ? Not one. 
 
 History informs us, substantially, that in the spring of 1774, two Indians 
 of the Shawanese tribe, murdered one of the inhabitants of Virginia. The 
 infamous Colonel Cresap, accompanied by several other white men, pro- 
 ceeded down the Kanhawa, and destroyed every member of the innocent 
 family of Logan. They concealed themselves on the bank of the river, 
 and his women and children, who were seen coming in a canoe, from the 
 opposite shore, unapprehensive of danger, and unarmed, were all killed at 
 one fire. Logan had long been recognized as the white man's friend. 
 This atrocious outrage and ungrateful return, provoked him to take up 
 arms, and he signalized himself in the battle which was fought in the au- 
 tumn of the same year, at the mouth of the Great Kanhawa, between the 
 Shawanese, Mingoes, and Delawares, and a detachment of the Virginia 
 militia. The Indians were defeated, and made a treaty for peace. Logan 
 disdained to be seen among the suppliants ; but fearing his absence would 
 operate injuriously, he sent the above speech to be delivered to Lord Dun- 
 more, — a speech of which Thomas Jefferson says : " I may challenge the 
 whole orations of Demosthenes and of Cicero, and of any more eminent 
 orator, if Europe has furnished more eminent, to produce a single passage 
 superior to it." 
 
 80. Lady Randolph's Soliloquy. — Rev. John Home. 
 
 1. Ye woods and wilds, whose melancholy gloom 
 Accords with my soul's sadness, and draws forth 
 The voice of sorrow from my bursting heart — 
 Farewell awhile, I will not leave you long ; 
 For, in your shades, I deem some spirit dwells ; 
 Who from the chiding stream and groaning oak, 
 Still hears and answers to Matilda's moan. 
 
 # 
 
 2. Oh ! Douglass, Douglass ! if departed ghosts 
 Are e'er permitted to review this world, 
 Within the circle of that wood, thou art ; 
 And with the passion of immortals, hear'st 
 
 15* 
 
 
174 SELECT PIECES 
 
 My lamentation ; hear'st thy wretched wife 
 Weep for her husband slain, her infant lost. 
 My brother's timeless death, I seem to mourn, 
 Who perished with thee on this fatal day. 
 
 3. To thee I lift my voice, to thee address 
 
 The plaint which mortal ear has never heard. 
 Oh ! disregard me not ; though I am called 
 Another's now, my heart is wholly thine. 
 Incapable of change, affection lies 
 Buried, my Douglass, in thy bloody grave. 
 
 This " Soliloquy of Lady Randolph," in which she mourns the loss of 
 her husband, her child, and her brother, requires a low key, very slow 
 time, and long quantity. It is very pathetic, and therefore should be given 
 in a plaintive manner. It is taken from the excellent tragedy of " Doug- 
 lass," written by Rev. John Home, who was born in Roxburyshire, in 
 1724, and died near Edinburgh, in 1808. 
 
 81. Byron's Farewell to his Wife. 
 
 1. Fare thee well! and if for ever, 
 
 Still for ever, fare thee well ; 
 Even though unforgiving, never 
 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. 
 
 2. Would that breast were bared before thee, 
 
 Where thy head so oft hath lain, 
 While that placid sleep came o'er thee 
 Which thou ne'er canst know again. 
 
 3. Would that breast, by thee glanced over. 
 
 Every inmost thought could show ! 
 Then thou would'st at last discover 
 'Twas not well to spurn it so. 
 
 + 
 
 4. Though the world for this commend thee— 
 
 Though it smile upon the blow, 
 Even its praises must offend thee. 
 Founded on another's wo. — 
 

 FOR EXERCISES. 175 
 
 5. Though my many faults defaced me, 
 
 Could no other arm be found 
 Than the one which once embrac'd me 3 
 To inflict a cureless wound? 
 
 6. Yet. O yet, thyself deceive not ; 
 
 Love may sink by slow decay. 
 
 But by sudden wrench, believe not 
 
 Hearts can thus be torn away. 
 
 7. Still thine own its life retaineth— - 
 
 Still must mine, though bleeding, beat, 
 A-nd the undying thought which paineth, 
 Is — that we no more may meet. 
 
 8. These are words of deeper sorrow 
 
 . Than the wail above the dead ; 
 
 Both shall live, but every morrow 
 
 Wake us from a widow' d bed. 
 
 9. And when thou would 'st solace gather. 
 
 When our child's first accents flow, 
 Wilt thou teach her to say, " Father V* 
 Though his cares she must forego? 
 
 10. When her little hands shall press thee, 
 
 When her lip to thine is prest, 
 Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee, 
 Think of him thy love had bless'd I 
 
 11. Should her lineaments resemble 
 
 Those thou never more may'st see, 
 Then thy heart will softly tremble 
 With a pulse yet true to me. 
 
 12. All my faults, perchance thou knowest, 
 
 All my madness, none can know j 
 All my hopes, where'er thou goest, 
 Wither, yet with thee they go. 
 
 13. Every feeling hath been shaken ; 
 
 Pride, which not a world could bow, 
 
176 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Bows to thee — by thee forsaken, 
 Even my soul forsakes me now ! 
 
 14. But 'tis done — all words are idle — 
 
 Words from me are vainer still ; 
 But the thoughts we cannot bridle, 
 Force their way without the will. 
 
 15. Fare thee well! — thus disunited, 
 
 Torn from every nearer tie, 
 Sear'd in heart, and lone, and blighted, 
 More than this, I scarce can die, 
 
 Lord Byron was unhappy in his domestic relations. Being rejected by 
 Miss Chaworth, for whom he had contracted an ardent attachment, he 
 formed an ill-starred union, at the age of twenty-seven, with Miss Mill- 
 bank, which terminated in a final separation, after the birth of a daughter, 
 of whom he affectionately speaks in the 9th, 10th and 11th verses. 
 
 His "Farewell to his wife," being the language of tender emotion and 
 grief, requires a plaintive elocution. 
 
 82. Song of the German Soldiers after Victory. — Mrs* 
 Felicia D. Hemans. 
 
 SINGLE VOICE. 
 
 1. It is the Rhine ! our mountain vineyards laving ; 
 
 I see the bright flood shine ; 
 Sing on the march with every banner waving, 
 Sing, brothers ! 'tis the Rhine ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 2. The Rhine, the Rhine ! our own Imperial river ! 
 
 Be glory on thy track ! 
 We left thy shores, to die or to deliver ; 
 We bear thee freedom back. 
 
 SINGLE VOICE. 
 
 3. Hail ! hail ! my childhood knew thy rush of water, 
 
 Even as a mother's song ; 
 That sound went past me on the field of slaughter, 
 And heart and arm grew strong. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 177 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 4. Roll boldly on ! brave blood is with thee sweeping. 
 
 Poured out by sons of thine, 
 When sword and spirit forth in joy were leaping 
 Like thee, victorious Rhine ! 
 
 SINGLE VOICE. 4 
 
 5. Home ! home ! thy glad wave hath a tone of greeting, — 
 
 Thy path is by my home ; 
 Even now, my children count the hours, till meeting, 
 O ransomed ones, I come ! 
 
 6. Go, tell the seas that chain shall bind thee never ; 
 Sound on, by hearth and shrine ; 
 Sing through the hills, that thou art free forever ; 
 Lift up thy voice, O Rhine ! 
 
 The German soldiers were two days passing over the river, at the first 
 gleam of which, they all burst forth into the national chant, Am Rheinl 
 Am Rhqyi I and the rocks and the castle were ringing to the song the 
 whole time ; for, while crossing, each band renewed it ; and the Cossacks, 
 with the clash, and the clang, and the roll of their stormy war-music, catch- 
 ing the enthusiasm of the scene, swelled forth the chorus, Am RJiein! 
 Am Rhein I This song is admirably adapted to the purposes of simultane- 
 ous reading or recitation, both for ladies and gentlemen. 
 
 The poetical writings of Mrs. Hemans are distinguished alike for beau- 
 ty, tenderness, and piety. In married life, she was not happy. Soon 
 after her death, which occurred in Dublin, May 30, 1835, the following 
 apostrophe appeared in public journals : 
 
 " We would not win thee back ; thy lyre e'en here, 
 Breathed the undying music of the sky— 
 Its tone is not of earth, too sweetly clear 
 To blend with aught of life's sad harmony. 
 
 " Then joy for thee, crowned one ! forever wearing 
 Immortal glory on thy radiant brow ; 
 Bard of eternity ! in triumph bearing 
 A lofty part in heaven's sweet hymn, even now. 
 Joy, joy, for thee !" 
 
 83. Defence of Socrates before his Judges. 
 
 1. I chiefly marvel, O ye judges! that Melitus should have 
 ; asserted that I, diligently applying myself to the contempla- 
 
178 SELECT PIECES 
 
 tion and practice of whatever is virtuous, l corrupt the youth ;' 
 — and, indeed, we well know what it is to corrupt them. But 
 show us, if in your power, whom of pious, I have made impi- 
 ous ; of modest, shameless ; of frugal, profuse. Who from 
 temperate is become drunken ; from laborious, idle, or effemi- 
 nate, by associating- with me 1 Or, where is the man who 
 has b(|en enslaved, by my means, to any vicious pleasure 
 whatever % 
 
 2. How could it escape being regarded even by you, Meli- 
 tus, as a thing deserving the highest admiration, that while in 
 every other instance, the man who excels in any employment, 
 is supposed not only entitled to a common regard, but receives 
 many, and those very distinguishing marks of honor ; I, on 
 the contrary, am persecuted even to death, because I am 
 thought by many, to have excelled in that employment, which 
 is the most noble, and which hath for its aim the greatest 
 good to mankind ; by instructing our youth in the knowledge 
 of their duty, and planting in the mind each virtuous prin- 
 ciple ! 
 
 3. It is necessary, O ye judges ! that all those who instruct- 
 ed the witnesses to bear, by perjury, false testimony •g-ainst 
 me, as well as all those who too readily obeyed their instruc- 
 tions, should be conscious to themselves of much impiety and 
 injustice ; but that I, in any wise, should be more troubled 
 and cast down than before my condemnation, I see not ; since 
 I stand here unconvicted of any of the crimes whereof I was 
 accused, for no one hath proved against me, that I sacrificed 
 to any new deity, or even made mention of the names of any 
 other than Jupiter, Juno, and the rest of the deities, which, 
 together with these, our city holds sacred ; neither have they 
 once shown what were the means I made use of to corrupt the 
 youth, at the very time I was enuring them to a life of pa- 
 tience and frugality. 
 
 4. As for those crimes to which our laws have annexed 
 death as the only proper punishment, — sacrilege, man-steal- 
 ing, undermining of walls, or betraying of the city, — my ene- 
 mies do rrot even say, that any of these things were ever prac- 
 tised by me. Wherefore I the rather marvel that ye have 
 now judged me worthy to die. 
 
 5. But it is not for me to be troubled on that account ; for, 
 if I die unjustly, the shame must be theirs who put me un- 
 justly to death ; since if injustice is shameful, so likewise 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 179 
 
 every act of it ; but no disgrace can it bring on me, that others 
 have not seen that I was innocent. 
 
 6. 1 am persuaded that I shall have the attestation of the 
 time to come, as well as of that which is past already, that I 
 never wronged any man, or made him more depraved ; but, 
 contrawise, have steadily endeavored throughout life, to bene- 
 fit those who conversed with me ; teaching them, to the very 
 utmost of my power, and that, too, without reward, whatever 
 could make them wise and happy. 
 
 Socrates, who was the greatest and best philosopher of all antiquity, was 
 born in Greece 467 years before Christ, and was cruelly put to death by 
 the Athenians, at the age of 67. They charged him with atheism, and 
 with endeavoring to corrupt the youth. He was not guilty. If^Jiowever, 
 he had been an unbeliever in their deities, it would have beeiJBta crime. 
 Every human being has a perfect right to form, cherish, and express his 
 opinions on all subjects ; and it is rank intolerance which converts opin- 
 ions into crimes. Socrates doubtless paid great reverence to the gods ; and 
 so fai from being a corrupter of youth, he reclaimed many from vice, by 
 practising and recommending all the virtues which can adorn human 
 character. Believing that the soul is immortal and incorruptible, and that 
 good men, like himself, would be happy beyond the grave, Socrates was 
 willing, and even desirous to exchange worlds. The illustrious philoso- 
 pher cheerfully drank the poison, and died without a struggle or a groan. 
 Let us all adopt his motto: Esse quavi videri ; i. e , be rather than seem, 
 for, an Socrates used to say, " The only way to true glory is, for a man to 
 be really excellent, not affect to appear so." The defence of Socrates 
 should be read in an animated manner. 
 
 84. Part of the Burial Service.— Bible. 
 
 1. I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord; he 
 | :hat believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live ; 
 
 *nd whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die. 
 
 1 know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at 
 i the latter day upon the earth ; and though worms destroy this 
 
 ! foody, yet in my flesh shall I see God. 
 2. Behold, thou hast made my days, as it were, a span long ; 
 and my age is even as nothing in respect of thee ; and verily 
 every man living is altogether vanity ; for man walketh in a 
 vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain; he heapeth up 
 riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them. 
 
 3. A thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday, see- 
 
180 SELECT PIECES 
 
 ing that is past as a watch in the night. As soon as thou 
 scatterest them, they are even as" asleep ; and fade away sud- 
 denly like the grass. In the morning it is green and groweth 
 up ; but in the evening it is cut down, dried up, and withered. 
 
 4. We consume away in thy displeasure ; and are afraid at 
 thy wrathful indignation ; for when thou art angry, all our 
 days are gone ; and we bring our years to an end, as it were 
 a tale that is told. So teach us to number our days, that we 
 may apply our hearts unto wisdom. 
 
 5. Now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the first 
 fruits of them that slept ; for since by man came death, by 
 man came also the resurrection of the dead. As in Adam all 
 die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive. 
 
 6. Tty some man will say, How are the dead raised up? 
 and with what body do they come? Thou fool, that which 
 thou sowest is not quickened except it die ; and that which 
 thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bare 
 grain, it may chance of wheat, or of some other grain ; but 
 God giveth it a body, as it hath pleased Him ; and to every 
 seed his own body. 
 
 7. So also is the resurrection of the dead ; it is sown in cor- 
 ruption, it is raised in incorruption ; it is sown in dishonor, it 
 is raised in glory ; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power ; 
 it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. Now 
 this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the 
 kingdom of God ; neither doth corruption inherit incorruption. 
 
 8. Behold, I show you a mystery. We shall not all sleep ; 
 but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of 
 an eye, at the last trump ; for the trumpet shall sound, and the 
 dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. 
 
 9. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this 
 mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible 
 shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put 
 on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that 
 is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where 
 is thy sting ? O grave, where is thy victory ? 
 
 10. The sting of death is sin ; and the strength of sin is 
 the law. But thanks be to God, who giveth us the tictory 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 The " Burial Service," comprised of passages from the holy scriptures, 
 is eloquent beyond description, It surpasses any thing that can be found 
 i» the whole circle of literature. It should be given on a low key, with 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 181 
 
 slow time, long quantity, and rhetorical pauses. A pause of that kind 
 ought to be made after uttering the last word but one, in the first verse. 
 The phrase with which the " Service " is concluded, " through our Lord 
 Jesus Christ," requires the monotone. 
 
 85. The Dream of Clarence. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Brakenbury. Why looks your Grace so heavily to-day \ 
 
 Clarence. O, I have p^ed a miserable night, * 
 So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, 
 That, as I am a Christian faithful man, 
 I would not spend another such a night, 
 Though 'twere to buy a woxid of happy days, 
 Bo full of dismal terror was the time. 
 
 Brak What was your dream, my lord ? 
 I pray you tell me. 
 
 Clar. Methought that I had broken from the tower, 
 And was embarked to cross to Burgundy ; 
 And in m^ company my brother Gloster ; 
 Who, from my cabin tempted me to walk 
 Upon the hatches ; thence we looked towards England, 
 And cited up a thousand heavy times, 
 During the wars of York and Lancaster, 
 That had befallen us, — as we paced along 
 Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, 
 Methought that Gloster stumbled ; and in falling, 
 Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard, 
 Into the tumbling billows of the main ! 
 O Lord ! methought what pain it was to drown ! 
 What dreadful noise of water in mine ears ! 
 What sights of ugly death within mine eyes ! 
 Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks, 
 A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon, 
 Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, 
 Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, 
 All scattered in the bottom of the sea. 
 Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in those holes 
 Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, 
 As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems, 
 That wooed the slimy bottom of the deep, 
 And mocked the dead bones that lay scattered by. 
 16 
 
182 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Brak. Had you such leisure in the time of death, 
 To gaze upon the secrets of the deep? 
 
 Clar. Methought I had ; and often did I strive 
 To yield the ghost ; but still the envious flood 
 Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth 
 To seek the empty, vast, and wandering air ; 
 But smothered it within my panting bulk. 
 Which almost burst to belch it in the sea. 
 
 Brak. Awaked you not with this sore agony ? 
 
 Clar. O no, my dream was lenjrihened after life ; 
 O, then began the tempest of my soul ; 
 I passed, methought, the melancholy flood, 
 With that grim ferryman which poets write ofj 
 Unto the kingdom cf perpetual night. 
 The first that there did greet my stranger soul, 
 Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick, 
 Who cried aloud : u What scourge for perjury 
 Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence ?" 
 And so he vanished ; — then came wandering by 
 A shadow like an angel, with bright hair ■ 
 
 Dabbled in blood ; and he shrieked out aloud : 
 " Clarence is come— false, fleeting, PERJURED Clarence, 
 That stabbed me in the field of Tewksbury ; 
 Seize on him, furies, take him to your torments !" 
 With that, methought a legion of foul fiends 
 Environed me, and howled in mine ears 
 Such hideous cries, that, with the very noise, 
 I trembling waked ; and for a season after, 
 Could not believe but that I was in hell ! 
 Such terrible impression made my dream. 
 
 Brak. No marvel, lord, that it affrighted you ; 
 I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it. 
 
 Clar. O, Brakenbury, I have done these things, 
 That now give evidence against my soul, 
 For Edward's sake ; and see how he requites me ! 
 I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me ; 
 My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. 
 
 Brak. I will, my lord. [Clarence reposes hvmdfon a chair. 
 Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, 
 Makes the night morning, and the noontide night. 
 Princes have but their titles for their glories, 
 An outward honor for an inward toil; 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 183 
 
 And, for unfelt imaginations, 
 They often feel a world of restless cares ; 
 So that between their titles and low name, 
 There's nothing differs but the outward fame. 
 
 This dialogue, in which Clarence relates to Brakenbury his sublime and 
 terrible dream, occurs in Shakspeare's tragedy of King Richard III. It is 
 one of the best pieces in our language, for a rhetorical exercise. The 
 phrases in italic should be given with great power, and those in small cap- 
 itals on a still higher key. 
 
 Some individuals say they think dialogues are theatrical, and conse- 
 quently immoral. A dialogue is merely an interchange of sentiment, — a 
 colloquy between two or more persons. Socrates conversed with Cebes 
 and his other friends, during the last day and moments of his life, with a 
 view of convincing them that the soul is immortal. That sublime and 
 solemn dialogue is published in Plato's Phedon. The interviews which 
 the apostles had with those to whom they taught the gospel, with each 
 other, and with our Savior himself, may, with propriety, be called dia- 
 logues. Conversation is but another word for dialogue. 
 
 Dialogues, like single pieces, are rendered good or bad, by the sentiments 
 embodied in them. But even if they were neither good nor bad, in a mo- 
 ral point of view, they would aid the student, very much, in his efforts to 
 become excellently skilled in reading and oratory. In some dialogues, se- 
 rious characters appear ; in others, ludicrous ; and this is according to nature. 
 In conversation or dialogues, the intonations and inflections of the voice, 
 are more likely to be correct, than in reading or declaiming single pieces. 
 Gesticulation, too, is generally better. The writer both admits and con- 
 tends, that the influence of the unnatural manner in which actors some- 
 times exhibit the passions, — the dresses of some female performers, — the 
 intoxicating drinks used in theatres, — and the bad women that frequent 
 them, is to corrupt morals. As a substitute for the " unlawful pleasures," 
 if indeed they can be called pleasures, to be found at badly conducted the- 
 atres; he would recommend those "innocent ones," which maybe derived 
 from reading pieces, or exhibiting dialogues, plays, and tragedies "of 
 chaste wit, as well as of pathos, beauty, and sublimity." 
 
 86. Virginius and Lucius.— -James Sheridan Knowles. 
 
 Lucius. 'Tis well you're found, Virginius ! 
 
 Virginius. What makes you from the city 1 look ! 
 My Lucius, what a sight you're come to witness. • 
 My brave old comrade, honest Siccius! 
 Siccius Dentatus, that true soji of Rome, 
 On whose white locks the mother looked more proudly 
 Than on the raven ones of her youngest and 
 
184 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Most hopeful sons, is nothing but this, 
 
 The sign and token of himself! Look, comrades, 
 
 Here are the foes have slain him — not a trace 
 
 Of any other — not a body stripp'd — 
 
 Our father has been murdered. We'll revenge him 
 
 Like sons ! Take up the body ! Bear it to 
 
 The camp ; and as you move your solemn march, 
 
 Be dumb — or if you speak, be it but a word ; 
 
 And be that word — Revenge ! 
 
 Luc. Virginius ! 
 
 Vir. I did not mind thee, Lucius ! 
 Uncommon things make common things forgot 
 Hast thou a message for me, Lucius ? Well ! 
 I'll stay and hear it, but be brief; my heart 
 Follows poor Dentatus. 
 
 Luc, You are wanted 
 In Rome. 
 
 Vir. On what account? 
 
 Luc. On your arrival 
 You'll learn. 
 
 Vir. How ! is it something can't be told 
 At once ? Speak out, boy ! Ha! your looks are loaded 
 With matter — Is't so heavy that your tongue 
 Cannot unburden them ? Your brother left 
 The camp on duty yesterday — hath aught 
 Happened to him ? Did he arrive in safety ? 
 Is he safe ? Is he well ? 
 
 Luc. He is both safe and well. 
 
 Vir. What then? What then? Tell me the matter, Lucius, 
 
 Luc. I have said 
 It shall be told you. 
 
 Vir. Shall ! I stay not for 
 That shall, unless it be so close at hand 
 It stop me not a moment. 'Tis too long 
 A coming. Fare you well, my Lucius. [Going. 
 
 Luc. Stay, 
 Virginius. Hear.me then with patience. 
 
 Vir - Well, [Returns. 
 
 I am patient. 
 
 Luc. Your Virginia — 
 
 Vir. Stop, my Lucius ! # 
 
 I am cold in every member of my frame f 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 185 
 
 If 'tis prophetic, Lucius, of thy news, 
 
 Give me such token as her tomb would, Lucius, 
 
 I'll bear it better. Silence. # 
 
 Luc. You are still — 
 
 Vir. I thank thee, Jupiter S I am still a father ! 
 
 Luc. You are, Virginius, yet — 
 
 Vir. What, is she sick ? 
 
 Luc. No. 
 
 Vir. Neither dead nor sick ! All well ! No harm ! 
 Nothing amiss ! Each guarded quarter safe, 
 That fear may lay him down and sleep, and yet 
 This sounding the alarm ! I swear thou tell'st 
 A story strangely. — Out with't ! I have patience 
 For any thing, since my Virginia lives, 
 And lives in health ! 
 
 Luc. You are requir'd in Rome, 
 To answer a most novel suit. 
 
 Vir. Whose suit? 
 
 Luc. The suit of Claudius, 
 
 Vir. Claudius ! 
 
 Luc, Him that's client 
 To Appius Claudius, the decemvir. 
 
 Vir. What ! 
 That pander ! JIa ! Virginia ! you appear 
 To couple them. What makes my fair Virginia 
 In company with Claudius? Innocence 
 Beside lasciviousness ! His suit! What suit? 
 Answer me quickly ! Quickly ! lest suspense, 
 Beyond what patience can endure, coercing, 
 Drive reason from his seat ! 
 
 Luc. He has claimed Virginia. 
 
 Vir. Claimed her! Claimed her! 
 On what pretence ? 
 
 Luc. He says she is the child 
 Of a slave of his, who sold her to thy wife. 
 
 Vir. Go on ; — you see I'm calm. 
 
 Luc He seized her in 
 The school, and dragged her to the forum, where 
 Appius was giving judgment. 
 
 Vir. Dragg'd her to 
 The forum I Well ! I told you, Lucius, 
 I would be patient. 
 16* 
 
186 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Luc. Numitorious there confronted him ! 
 
 Vir. Did he not strike him dead % 
 True 3 true, I know it was in presence of 
 The decemvir — Ol^had I confronted him! 
 Well ! well ! the issue — Well ! overleap all else, 
 And light upon the issue ! Where is she ? 
 
 Luc. I was despatched to fetch thee, ere I could learn. 
 
 Vir. The claim of Claudius — Appius's client — Ha ! 
 I see the master-cloud — this ragged one, 
 That lowers before, moves only in subservience 
 To the ascendant of the other — Jove, 
 With its own mischief break it and disperse it, 
 And that be all the ruin ! Patience ! Prudence ! 
 Nay, prudence, but no patience. Come ! a slave 
 Dragged through the streets in open day ! my child ! 
 My daughter ! my fair daughter, in the eyes 
 Of Rome ! O ! I'll be patient. Come ! the essence 
 Of my best blood in the free common ear 
 Condemned as vile. O I'll be patient. Come ! 
 O they shall wonder. I will be so patient. 
 
 The " Tragedy of Virginius," from which this dialogue is taken, is found- 
 ed on historical facts. We learn from " Ferguson's Rome," that " Appius 
 Claudius, one of the usurpers, being captivated with the beauty of Virginia, 
 the child of an honorable family, and already betrothed to a person of her 
 own condition, endeavored to make himself master of her person, by de- 
 priving her at once of her parentage and of her liberty. For this pui- 
 pose, under pretence that she had been born in servitude, and that she had 
 been stolen away in her infancy, he suborned a person to claim her as his 
 slave. The decemvir himself being judge in this iniquitous suit, gave 
 judgment against the helpless party, and ordered her to be removed to the 
 house of the person by whom he was claimed. In this affecting scene, 
 the father, under pretence of bidding a last farewell to his child, came for- 
 ward to embrace her ; and, in the presence of the multitude, having then 
 no other means to preserve her honor, he availed himself of the preroga- 
 tive of a Roman father, and stabbed her to the heart with a knife. The 
 indignation which arose from this piteous sight, reestablished a patrician 
 administration." 
 
 When Virginius tells Lucius, — "You see I'm calm" " O, I'll be pa- 
 tient" — he was greatly agitated ; and, of course, those phrases, and other 
 similar ones, are ironical. His deepest indignation was naturally aroused 
 against the lascivious tvrant. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 187 
 
 87. Scene from Pizarro. — Kotzebue, 
 
 PlZARRO AND GOMEZ. 
 
 Pizarro. How now, Gomez, what bringest thou ? 
 
 Gomez. On yonder hill, among the palm trees, we have 
 surprised an old Peruvian. Escape by flight, he could not, 
 and we seized him unresisting. 
 
 Piz. Drag him before us. [Gomez leads in Orozembo.] 
 
 What art thou, stranger? 
 
 Orozembo. First tell me who is the captain of this band of 
 robbers. 
 
 Piz. Audacious! This insolence has sealed thy doom. 
 Die thou shalt, gray-headed ruffian. But first confess what 
 thou knowest. 
 
 Oro. 1 know that of which thou has just assured me, that 
 I shall die. 
 
 Piz. Less audacity might have saved thy life. 
 
 Oro. My life is as a withered tree, not worth preserving. 
 
 Piz. Hear me, old man. Even now we march against 
 the Peruvian army. We know there is a secret path that 
 leads to your strong hold among the rocks. Guide us to that, 
 and name thy reward. If wealth be thy wish 
 
 Oro. Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 Piz. Dost thou despise my offer % 
 
 Oro. Yes ; thee and thy offer \ Wealth ! I have the 
 wealth of two gallant sons. I have stored in heaven, the 
 riches which repay good actions here ! and still my chiefest 
 treasure do I wear about me. 
 
 Piz. What is that? Inform me. 
 
 Oro. I will ; for thou canst never tear it from me. An 
 unsullied conscience. 
 
 Piz. I believe there is no other Peruvian who dares speak 
 as thou dost. 
 
 Oro. Would I could believe there is no other Spaniard who 
 dares act as thou dost. 
 
 Gom. Obdurate pagan ! how numerous is your army? 
 
 Oro. Count the leaves of the forest. 
 
 Gom. Which is the weakest part of your camp ? 
 
 Oro. It is fortified on all sides by justice. 
 
 Gom. Where have you concealed your wives and children % 
 
 Oro. In the hearts of their husbands and fathers. 
 
188 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Piz. Knowest thou Alonzo ? 
 
 Oro. Know him ! Alonzo ! Our nation's benefactor ! the 
 guardian angel '"of Peru ! 
 
 Piz. By what has he merited that title ? 
 
 Oro. By not resembling thee. 
 
 Piz. Who is this Rolla, joined with Alonzo in command? 
 
 Oro. I will answer that ; for I love to speak the hero's 
 name. Rolla, the kinsman of the king, is the idol of our army. 
 In war, a tiger; in peace, a lamb. »Cora was once betrothed 
 to him. but finding she preferred Alonzo, he resigned his claim 
 for Cora's happiness. 
 * Piz. Romantic savage ! I shall meet this Rolla soon. 
 
 Oro. Thou hadst better not ! The terrors of his noble eye 
 would strike thee dead. 
 
 Gom. Silence, or tremble ! 
 
 Oro. Beardless robber ! I never yet have trembled before 
 man — Why before thee, thou less than man ! 
 
 Gom. Another word, audacious heathen, and I strike ! 
 
 Oro. Strike, Christian! then boast among thy fellows: 
 " I too have murdered a Peruvian." 
 
 Second Scene. — Sentinel. 
 
 Rolla and Alonzo. 
 
 [Enter Rolla, disguised as a monk] 
 
 Rolla. Inform me, friend, is Alonzo, the Peruvian, confined 
 in this dungeon ? 
 
 Sentinel. He is. 
 
 Rolla. I must speak with him. 
 
 Sent. You must not. 
 
 Rolla. He is my friend. 
 
 Sent. Not if he were your brother. 
 
 Rolla. What is to be his fate? 
 
 Sent. He dies at sunrise. 
 
 Rolla. Ha ! then I am come in time. 
 
 Sent. Just to witness his death. 
 
 Rolla. [Advancing towards the door.] Soldier — I must 
 speak with him. 
 
 Sent. [Pushing him back with his gun.] Back ! Back ! it 
 is impossible. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 189 
 
 Rolla. I do entreat you, but for one moment. 
 
 Sent. You entreat in vain — my orders are most strict. 
 
 Rolla. Look on this wedge of massive gold ! Look on 
 these precious gems ! In thy land they will he wealth for 
 thee and thine, beyond thy hope or wish. Take them ; they 
 are thine ; let me but pass one moment with Alonzo. 
 
 Sent. Away ! Wouldst thou corrupt me ? Me ! an old 
 Castilian !— I know my duty better. 
 
 Rolla. Soldier! hast thou a wife? 
 
 Sent. 1 have. 
 
 Rolla. Hast thou children ? 
 
 Sent. Four honest, lively boys. 
 
 Rolla. Where didst thou leave them? 
 
 Sent. In my native village, in the very cot where I was 
 born. 
 
 Rolla. Dost thou love thy wife and children ? 
 
 Sent. Do I love them ! God knows my heart, — I do. 
 
 Rolla. Soldier ! imagine thou wert doomed to die a cruel 
 death in a strange land,— -what would be thy last request? 
 
 Sent. That some of my comrades should carry my dying 
 blessing to my wife and children. 
 
 Rolla. What if that comrade were at thy prison door, and 
 should there be told, thy fellow soldier dies at sunrise, yet 
 thou shalt not for a moment see him, nor shalt thou bear his 
 dying blessing to his poor children, or his wretched wife,— 
 what wouldst thou think of him who thus could drive thy 
 comrade from the door? 
 
 Sent. How? 
 
 Rolla. Alonzo has a wife and child ; and I am come but 
 to receive for her, and for her poor babe, the last blessing of 
 my friend. 
 
 Sent. Go in. [Exit Sentinel. 
 
 Rolla. [Calls] Alonzo! Alonzo! 
 
 [Enter Alonzo, speaking as he comes in.] 
 
 Alonzo. How! is the hour elapsed? Well, I am ready. 
 
 Rolla. Alonzo know me ! 
 
 Alon. Rolla! O Rolla I how didst thou pass the guard? 
 
 Rolla. There is not a moment to be lost in words. This 
 disguise I tore from the dead body of a friar as I passed our 
 field of battle. It has gained me entrance to thy dungeon j 
 now take it thou, and fly. 
 
 Alon. And Rolla 
 
190 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Holla. Will remain here in thy place. 
 
 Alon. And die for me ! No ! rather eternal tortures rack 
 me. 
 
 Rolla. I shall not die, Alonzo. It is thy life, Pizarro 
 seeks, not Rollds ; and thy arm may soon deliver me from 
 prison. Or, should it be otherwise, I am as a blighted tree in 
 the desert ; nothing lives beneath my shelter. Thou art a 
 husband and a father ; the being of a lovely wife and helpless 
 infant depends upon thy life. Go ! go ! Alonzo, not to save 
 thyself, but Cora and thy child. 
 
 Alon. Urge me not thus, my friend, — I am prepared to 
 die in peace. 
 
 Rolla. To die in peace ! devoting her you have sworn to 
 live for, to madness, misery, and death! 
 
 Alon. Merciful heavens ! 
 
 Rolla. If thou art yet irresolute, Alonzo — now, mark me 
 well. Thou knowest that Rolla never pledged his word and 
 shrunk from its fulfilment. Know then, if thou art proudly 
 obstinate, thou shalt have the desperate triumph of seeing 
 .Rolla perish by thy side. 
 
 Alon. O Rolla ! you distract me ! Wear you the robe, and 
 though dreadful the necessity, we will strike down the guard 
 and force our passage. 
 
 Rolla. What the soldier ', on duty here ? 
 
 Alon. Yes ; else, seeing two, the alarm will be instant 
 death. 
 
 Rolla. For my nation's safety, I would not harm him. 
 That soldier, mark me, is a man ! All are not men that 
 wear the human form. He refused my prayers, refused my 
 gold, denying to admit — till his own feelings bribed him. I 
 will not risk a hair of that man's head, to save my heart-strings 
 from consuming fire. But haste ! A moment's farther pause, 
 and all is lost. 
 
 Alon. Rolla, I fear thy friendship drives me from honor 
 and from right. 
 
 Rolla. Did Rolla ever counsel dishonor to his friend? 
 [Throwing the friar's garment over his shoulders.] There! 
 conceal thy face. Now God be with thee. 
 
 This interesting dialogue is taken from Kotzebue's " Pizarro." Kotze- 
 bue was born at Weimar, in 1701, and was assassinated in 1819, by Sandt, 
 a fanatical student at Jena. In the scene between Rolla and the sentinel, 
 "the voice of nature speaks." Rolla appeals, successfully, to the feelings 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 191 
 
 of the sentinel, not by gold, but by the power of irresistible eloquence. 
 It is true, as Rolla says, that " all are not men, that wear the human form," 
 that is to say, some men are destitute of those feelings of humanity which 
 pervaded the bosom of the "soldier." He was truly and emphatically a 
 man, for admitting Rolla, and so was Rolla, for solemnly pledging himself 
 not to see injured "a hair of that man's head." The dialogue, being 
 throughout highly rhetorical, constitutes a very good elocutionary exercise. 
 
 88. A Dialogue from the History of King Richard III. — 
 Knicker backer. 
 
 Richard and Q,i t een Anne. 
 
 Richard. I'd have thee die minion ! [More calmly.] I'd 
 have thee die. I'm tired of thee. The young Elizabeth is 
 passing fair, and I would wed her. Mark me, thou art the 
 only obstacle. Dost thou understand me ? 
 
 Anne. [Mournfully.'] Yes, I understand thee well ; and 
 believe me, Richard, thou canst not more ardently desire my 
 death than 
 
 Rich. [Interrupting her.] Ha ! sayest thou so ? [Handing 
 her a phial of poison, and speaking in a whisper.]. Anne, in 
 this phial there is a solace both for thy cares and mine; — drink 
 this then, and mourn no more. % 
 
 Anne. No, tempter, I will not drink ! [With sudden energy.] 
 Monster ! thou hast made earth a hell to me, and now thou 
 wouldst bar my entrance to heaven. A way ! I will not com- 
 mit self-murder. 
 
 Rich, The crime and punishment shall rest on my head, 
 for see, [plucking a poniard from his girdle J] this shall be thy 
 excuse in the heaven thou pratest of, that either thou must 
 have drank that potion, or this dagger would have silenced 
 thy scruples. Die, thou must, by the one or the other ; but I 
 would rather thou didst choose the poison, being, as thou 
 knowest, a peaceful man, eschewing bloodshed. 
 
 Anne. [Taking the poison.] The guilt of this deed be upon 
 thy head ! [Fixing her eyes on the king, and speaking in a 
 voice of dying energy.] Unhappy Richard ! thou hast steeped 
 thy soul in guilt, of which thou wilt never reap the harvest. 
 I feel the spirit of prophecy on my lips. Listen to it for thy 
 soul's sake. The bride thou hast chosen thou shalt never 
 
x 92 SELECT PIECES 
 
 wed; the sceptre thou hast usurped, no child of thine shall 
 ever sway Thou wilt die a bloody death, on a lost field, and 
 thy name shall Be a by- word for tyranny through future ages, — 
 my murder I forgive thee. 'Tis the only mercy I ever re- 
 ceived at thy hand ! My eyes are dim — my heart is cold — the 
 hand of death is on it. Oh ! God ! Edward my mur- 
 dered Lord 1 come 1 come ! 
 
 King Richard stood with folded arms, coldly gazing on the last agonies 
 of Glueen Anne, until her oppressed spirit left the world,— the tyrant then 
 quitted the apartment. 
 
 That murder, dreadful as it was, would have been still more cruel, if it 
 be possible, had Richard administered the poison, under the false pretence 
 of giving his wife medicine, as was the case with Henry G. Green, who 
 was executed at Troy, N. Y. in the autumn of 1845. How vastly impor- 
 tant is moral education. Had the impetuosity of young Green's passions 
 been restrained, by the conservative and redeeming influence of morality 
 and religion, he might have participated largely in the enjoyment of the 
 unutterable privileges of life, and the unspeakable pleasures of connu- 
 bial love. To be happy, we must possess " contented minds, richly stored 
 with knowledge, be curbed in our desires by the dictates of sound philoso- 
 phy, and governed by the precepts of divine revelation." 
 
 89. Scene between Captain Bertram and Jack Bowlin. — 
 
 Dunlap. 
 • 
 
 Bowlin. Good day to your honor. 
 
 Captain. Good day, honest Jack. 
 
 Bowl. To day is my Captain's birth day. 
 
 Capt. I know it. 
 
 Botcl. I am heartily glad on the occasion. 
 
 Capt. I know that too. 
 
 Bowl. Yesterday, your honor broke your sea-foam pipe. 
 
 Capt. Well, sir booby, and why must I be put in mind 
 of it ? it was stupid enough to be sure, — but hark ye, Jack, 
 all men at times do stupid actions ; but I never met with one 
 who liked to be reminded of them. 
 
 Bowl. I meant no harm, your honor. It was only a kind 
 of introduction to what I was a going to say. I have been 
 buying this pipe-head and ebony-tube, and if the thing is not 
 too bad, and my captain will take such a present on his birth 
 day, for the sake of poor old Jack — 
 
 Ctipt. Is that what you would be at — come, let's see. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 193 
 
 BowL To be sure, it is not sea-foam ; but my captain must 
 think, when he looks at it, that the lore of old Jack was not 
 mere foam neither. 
 
 Capt Give it here, my honest fellow. 
 
 Bowl You will take it ? 
 
 Capt, To be sure I will. 
 
 Bowl. And will smoke with it? 
 
 Capt. That I will. [Feeling in his pocket 
 
 BowL And will not think of giving me any thing in 
 return ? 
 
 Capt. [Quickly withdrawing his hand from his pocket] No, 
 no, — you are right. 
 
 Bowl Huzza ! now let mother Grim kin bake her almond 
 cakes out of her daily pilferings, and be hanged. 
 
 Capt Fie, Jack ! what's that you say ? 
 
 Bowl The truth. I have just come from the kitchen, 
 where she is making a great palaver about " her cake," and 
 " her cake," and yet this morning she must be put in mind 
 that it was her master's birth day. Hang me, I have thought 
 of nothing else this month. 
 
 Capt. And because you have better memory, you must 
 blame the poor woman. Shame on you. 
 
 Bowl. Please your honor, she is an old — 
 
 Capt Avast ! 
 
 Bowl. Yesterday, she made your wine cordial of sour 
 beer, so to-day she makes you an almond cake of — 
 
 Capt Hold your tongue, sir. 
 
 Bowl A'nt you obliged to beg the necessaries of life, as if 
 she were a pope or an admiral ? and last year when you was 
 bled, though she had lain up chest full upon chest full of 
 linen, and all yours if the truth was known, yet no bandage 
 was found till I tore the spare canvas from my Sunday shirt 
 to rig your honor's arm. 
 
 Capt You are a scandalous fellow; [throwing the pipe 
 back to him,] away with you and your pipe. 
 
 Bowl [Looking attentively at his master and the pipe.] I 
 am a scandalous follow ? 
 
 Capt. Yes. 
 
 Bowl Your honor will not have the pipe ? 
 
 Capt. No ; I will take nothing from him who would raise 
 his own character, at the expense of another old servant. [Jack 
 17 
 
194 SELECT PIECES 
 
 takes up the pipe and throws it out of the window.] What ate 
 you doing? 
 
 Bowl. Throwing the pipe out of the window. 
 
 Capt. Are you mad ? 
 
 Bowl. Why, what should I do with it ? You will not 
 have it, and it is impossible for me to use it, for as often as I 
 should puff away the smoke, I should think : " Old Jack Bow- 
 lin what a pitiful scamp you must be," a man, whom you have 
 served honestly and truly these thirty years, and who must 
 know you from stem to stern, says you are " a scandalous fel- 
 low," and the thought would make me weep like a child. 
 But when the pipe is gone, I shall try to forget the whole 
 business, and say to myself, " my poor old Captain is sick, and 
 does not mean what he said." 
 
 Capt. Jack come here. [Takes his hand.] I did not mean 
 what I said. 
 
 Bowl. [Shakes his hand heartily.] I knew it, I knew it. 
 I have you and your honor at heart, and when I see such an 
 ©Id hypocritical bellwether cheating you out of your hard 
 earned wages, it makes my blood boil — 
 
 Capt. Are you at it again ? Shame on you ! You have 
 opened your heart to-day, and given me a peep into its lowest 
 hold. 
 
 Bowl. So much the better ! for you will then see that my 
 ballast is love and truth to my master. But hark ye, master, 
 it is certainly worth your while to inquire into the business. 
 
 Capt. And hark ye, fellow, if I find you have told me a 
 lie, I'll have no mercy on you. I'll turn you out of doors to 
 starve in the street. 
 
 Bowl. No, Captain, you won't do that. 
 
 Capt. I tell you I will, though. I will do it. And if you 
 say another word, I'll do it now. 
 
 Bowl. Well, then away goes old Jack to the hospital. 
 
 Capt. What's that you say 1 hospital ? hospital, you ras- 
 cal ! what w T ill you do there ? 
 
 Bowl. Die. 
 
 Capt. And so you will go and die in a hospital, will you ? 
 Why — why — you lubber, do you think I can't take care of 
 you, after I have turned you out of doors, hey? 
 
 Bowl. Yes, I dare say you would be willing to pay my 
 board, and take care that I did not want in my old days, but 
 1 would sooner beg than pick up money so thrown at me. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. [95 
 
 I 
 
 Capt. Rather beg ! there's a proud rascal ! 
 
 Bowl. He that don't love me must not give me money. 
 
 Capt. Do you hear that ? Is not this enough to give a 
 ^ound man the gout ?* You sulky fellow, twenty years ago, 
 we fell into the clutches of the Algerines. The pirates strip- 
 ped me of my last jacket ; but you. you lubber, contrived to 
 hide two pieces of gold in your hair, and preserved them. 
 Half a year afterwards we were ransomed. But I must have 
 begged my way home or starved, if [with a faltering voice] 
 you had not shared your money with me — and now you want 
 to die in a hospital ! 
 
 Bowl. Nay, but Captain — 
 
 Capt. And when my ship's crew mutinied ; at the risk 
 of his life he disclosed the plot. Have you forgotten it, you 
 lubber? 
 
 Bowl. Well ? and didn't you build my old mother a house 
 for it? 
 
 Capt. And when we had boarded the French privateer, 
 and the captain's hanger hung over my head, didn't you strike 
 off the arm that was going to split my skull ? Have you for- 
 got that too? Have I built you a house for that? Will you 
 die in a hospital now, you ungrateful dog ! hey ? 
 
 Bowl. My good old master — 
 
 Capt. Would you have it set on my tomb stone : u Here 
 lies an unthankful hound, who let his preserver and mess- 
 mate die in a hospital," — would you ? Tell me, this minute, 
 you will live and die by me, you lubber ! Come here and 
 give me your hand ! 
 
 Bold. [Going towards him.] My noble master — 
 
 Capt. Avast! stand off! take care of my lame leg; yet J 
 had rather you should hurt that than my heart, my old boy. 
 [Shakes his hand heartily.] Now go and bring me the pipe. 
 Stop, let me lean on you, and I will go down and get it my- 
 self, and use it on my birth-day. You would die in a hospital, 
 would you ? you unfeeling lubber ! 
 
 This humorous dialogue is from Dunlap's play, called " Fraternal Dis- 
 cord." Captain Bertram had the gout, to which he alludes where he 
 speaks of his lameness. 
 
196 SELECT PIECES 
 
 90. Alexander the Great and a Robber. — Dr. Aikin. 
 
 Alexander. What ! art thou the Thracian Robber, of whose 
 exploits I have heard so much ? 
 
 Robber. I am a Thracian, and a soldier. 
 
 Alex. A soldier ? a thief, a plunderer, an assassin ! the pest 
 of the country \ I could honor thy courage, but I detest and 
 must punish thy crimes. 
 
 Rob. What have I done, of which you can complain? 
 
 Alex. Hast thou not set at defiance my authority, violated 
 the public peace, and passed thy life in injuring the persons 
 and property of thy fellow subjects ? 
 
 Rob. Alexander! I am your captive; I must hear what 
 you please to say, and endure what you please to inflict. But 
 my soul is unconquered ; and if I reply at all to your reproaches, 
 I will reply like a free man. 
 
 Alex. Speak freely. Far be it from me to take the advan- 
 tage of my power, to silence those with whom I deign to con- 
 verse. 
 
 Rob. I must then answer your question by another : How 
 have you passed your life ? 
 
 Alex. Like a hero. Ask Fame and she will tell you. 
 Among the brave, I have been the bravest ; among sovereigns, 
 the noblest ; among conquerors, the mightiest. 
 
 Rob. And does not fame speak of me too? Was there 
 ever a bolder captain of a more valiant band ? Was there 
 ever — but I scorn to boast. You yourself know that I have 
 not been easily subdued. 
 
 Alex. Still, what are you but a robber ; a base, dishonest 
 robber ! 
 
 Rob. And what is a conqueror? Have not you, too, gone 
 about the earth like an evil genius, blasting the fair fruits of 
 peace and industry; plundering, ravaging, killing without 
 law, without justice, merely to gratify an insatiable lust for 
 dominion? All that I have done to a single district, with a 
 hundred followers, you have done to whole nations, with a hun- 
 dred thousand. If I have stripped individuals, you have ruined 
 kings and princes. If I have burnt a few hamlets, you have 
 desolated the most flourishing kingdoms and cities of the earth. 
 What is, then, the difference, but that as you were born a 
 
I 
 
 FOR EXERCISES. 197 
 
 king, and I a private man, you have been able to become a 
 mightier robber than I ? 
 
 Alex. But if I have taken like a king, I have given like a 
 king. If I have subverted empires, I have founded greater. 
 I have cherished arts, commerce, and philosophy. 
 
 Rob. I, too, have freely given to the poor what I took from 
 the rich. I have established order and discipline among the 
 most ferocious of mankind, and have stretched out my protect- 
 ing arm over the oppressed. I know, indeed, little of the 
 philosophy you talk of; but I believe neither you nor I shall 
 ever atone to the world, for half the mischief we have done 
 in it. 
 
 Alex. Leave me. Take off his chains, and use him well. 
 Are we, then, so much alike? Alexander like a robber! 
 Let me reflect. 
 
 Alexander the Great, son of Philip, king of Macedon, was born at Pe- 
 lia, 365 years before Christ, and died in the 33d year of his age. Alexan- 
 der deprived millions of their possessions, — in other words, he was one of 
 the greatest robbers that ever scourged mankind. The only difference, in 
 a moral point of view, between him and the robber, in the dialogue, is, 
 that he was a much greater one. Well might the robber say: "What 
 have I done, of which you can complain?" The robber's meaning is: 
 "I know that other men may justly reproach me for my vile deeds; but 
 what have I done, of which such a blood-thirsty tyrant as you, can com- 
 plain V Alexander is said to have conquered the world, and to have been 
 buried in a gold coffin ! 
 
 91. PftiNCE Henry and Falstaff. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Prince Henri/. Welcome, Jack ! Where hast thou been? 
 
 Falstaff. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance 
 too ! marry, and amen ! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I 
 lead this life long, I'll sew nether-socks, and mend them, and 
 foot them too. A plague of all cowards ! Give me a cup of 
 sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant ? [He drinks.] You 
 rogue, there's lime in this sack too; there is nothing but 
 roguery to be found in villanous man. Yet a coward is 
 worse than a cup of sack with lime in it ; a villanous coward ! 
 Go thy ways, old Jack ; die when thou wilt ; if manhood, 
 goocL manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth ; then 
 am I a shotten herring. There live not three good men un 
 17* 
 
198 SELECT PIECES 
 
 hanged in England; and one of them is fat, and grows old. 
 Heaven help the while ; a bad world I say. A plague of all 
 cowards, I say still. 
 
 P. Hen. How now, wool-sack ! what mutter you ? 
 
 Fal. A king's son ! If I do not heat thee out of thy king- 
 dom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore 
 thee, like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on. my 
 face more ! you Prince of Wales ! 
 
 P. Hen. Why, what's the matter? 
 
 Fal. Are you not a coward ? answer me that. 
 
 P. Hen. If you call me coward, I'll stab thee. 
 
 Fal. I call thee coward! I'll see thee hanged ere I'll call 
 thee coward ; but I would give a thousand pound, 1 could run 
 as fast as thou canst. You're straight enough in the shoul- 
 ders ; you care not who sees your back. Call you that back- 
 ing your friends ? A plague upon such backing! Give me 
 them that will face me. Give me a cup of sack ; I am a 
 rogue, if I drunk to-day. 
 
 P. Hen. O villain ! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou 
 drank'st last. 
 
 Fal. All's one for that. [He 'drinks.] A plague of all 
 cowards, still say I. 
 
 P. Hen. What's the matter ? 
 
 Fal. What's the matter? here be four of us have ta'en a 
 thousand pound this morning. 
 
 P. Hen. Where is it ? Jack, where is it ? 
 
 Fal. Where is it ? taken from us, it is ; a hundred upon 
 four of us. 
 
 P. Hen. What! a hundred, man? 
 
 Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a dozen 
 of them two hours together. I have escaped by miracle. I 
 am eight times thrust through the doublet ; four, through the 
 hose ; my buckler cut through and through ; my sword hack- 
 ed like a hand-saw. I never dealt better since I was a man ; 
 all would not do. A plague of all cowards ! 
 
 P. Hen. What ! fought you with them all ? 
 
 Fal. All ! I know not what ye call all ; but if I fought 
 not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish ; if there were 
 not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then I am no 
 two-legged creature. 
 
 P. Hen. Pray Heaven, you have not murdered some of 
 them ! 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 199 
 
 Fal. Nay, that's past praying for. I have peppered two of 
 them ; two, I am sure, I have paid ; two rogues in buckram 
 suits. I tell thee what, Hal, — if I tell thee a lie, spit in rny 
 face, call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward ; here I lay, 
 and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive 
 at me, — 
 
 P. Hen. What, four ? thou saidst but two, even now. 
 
 Fal. Four, Hal ; I told thee four. These four came all 
 a-front, and mainly thrust at me. I made no more ado, but 
 took all their seven points in my target, thus. 
 
 P. Hen. Seven ! why there were but four, even now. 
 
 Fal. In buckram 1 
 
 P. Hen. Ay, four, in buckram suits. 
 
 Fal. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else. Dost 
 thou hear me, Hal? 
 
 P. Hen. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. 
 
 Fal. Do so, for it's worth the listening to. These nine in 
 buckram, that I told thee of, — 
 
 P. Hen. So, two more already. 
 
 Fal. Their points being broken, began to give me ground ; 
 but I followed me close, came in foot and hand, and, with a 
 thought, seven of the eleven I paid. 
 
 P. Hen, O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out 
 of two S 
 
 Fal. But as Satan would have it, three mis-begotten 
 knaves, in Kendal -green, came at my back, and let drive at 
 me ; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy 
 hand. 
 
 P. Hen. These lies are like the father that begets them ; 
 gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why thou clay-brained 
 heap ; thou knotty-pated fool — 
 
 Fal. What! art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the 
 truth, the truth ? 
 
 P. Hen. Why, how couldst thou know these men in Ken- 
 dal-green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy hand? 
 Come, tell us your reason ; what sayest thou to this ? Come, 
 your reason, Jack, your reason. 
 
 Fal. What ! upon compulsion ? No ; were I at the strap- 
 pado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on 
 compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion ! If reasons 
 were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason 
 on compulsion. 
 
200 SELECT PIECES 
 
 P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin. This san- 
 guine coward, this horse-back breaker, this huge hill of 
 flesh 
 
 Fal, Away you starveling, you elf skin, you dried beef 
 tongue, you stock-fish ! O, for breath to utter what is like 
 thee ! 
 
 P. Hen. Well, breathe a while, and then to it again ; and, 
 when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me 
 speak but this : Poins and I saw you four set on four ; you 
 bound them, and were masters of their wealth ; mark now, 
 how a plain tale shall put you down. Then did we two set 
 on you four, and, with a word, out-faced you from your prize, 
 and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house. 
 And, FalstafT, you carried yourself away as nimbly, with as 
 quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, 
 as ever I heard a calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy 
 sword as thou hast done, and then say, it was in fight ! What 
 trick, what device, what starting hole canst thou now find out, 
 to hide thee from this open and apparent shame ? 
 
 Fal. Ha! ha! ha! D'ye think I did not know ye? I 
 know you as well as he that made you. Why, hear ye, my 
 master, was it for me to kill the heir apparent ? Should I 
 turn upon the true prince % Why, thou knowest, I am as val- 
 iant as Hercules; 'but beware of instinct; the lion will not 
 touch the true prince ; instinct is a great matter ; I was 2 
 coward on instinct, I grant you ; and I shall think the better 
 of myself and thee during my life ; I for a valiant lion, and 
 thou for a true prince. But I am glad you have the money, 
 Let us clap to the doors ; watch to-night, pray to-morrow, j 
 What, shall we be merry ? shall we have a play extempore % I 
 
 P. Hen. Content ! and the argument shall be thy running j 
 away. 
 
 Fal. Ah ! no more of that, Hal, an' thou lovest me. 
 
 FalstafT, although corrupt, had power to please ; he was a coward and 
 a boaster. By turning vice into laughter, he led astray King Henry. 
 
 92. A Scene from William Tell. — Knowles. 
 Gesler, the tyrant ; Sarnem, his officer, and Wm. Tell, a Swiss peasant, j 
 
 Sarnem. Down, slave, upon thy knees before the Governor; 
 And beg for mercy. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 201 
 
 Gesler. Does he hear ? 
 
 Sar. He does, but braves thy power. 
 (To Tell.) Down, slave, 
 And ask for life. 
 
 Ges. ( To Tell) Why speakest thou not ? 
 
 Tell. For wonder. 
 
 Ges. Wonder ? 
 
 Tell. Yes, that thou shouldst seem a man. 
 
 Ges. What should I seem ? 
 
 Tell A monster. 
 
 Ges. Ha ! Beware ! think on thy chains. 
 
 Tell. Though they were double and did weigh me down, 
 Prostrate to earth, methinks I could rise up 
 ■Erect, with nothing but the honest pride 
 Of telling thee, usurper, to thy teeth, 
 Thou art a monster. Think on my chains ! 
 How came they on me? 
 
 Ges. Darest thou question me? 
 
 Tell. Darest thou answer ? 
 
 Ges. Beware my vengeance. 
 
 Tell. Can it more than kill ? 
 
 Ges. And is not that enough ? 
 
 Tell. No, not enough, — 
 It cannot take away the grace of life ; 
 The comeliness of look that virtue gives — 
 Its port erect, with consciousness of truth — 
 Its rich arttire of honorable deeds — 
 Its fair report that's rife on good men's tongues ; 
 It cannot lay its hand on these, no more 
 Than it can pluck his brightness from the sun, 
 Or with polluted finger tarnish it. 
 
 Ges. But it can make thee writhe. 
 
 Tell. It may, and I may say, 
 Go on, though it should make me groan again. 
 
 Ges. Whence comest thou ? 
 
 Tell. From the mountains. 
 
 Ges. Can'st thou tell me any news from them ? 
 
 Tell. Ay, they watch no more the avalanche. 
 
 Ges. Why so? 
 
 Tell. Because they look for thee. The hurricane 
 Comes unawares upon them ; from its bed 
 The torrent breaks, and finds them in its track. 
 
202 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Ges. What then % 
 
 Tell. They thank kind Providence it is not thou* 
 Thou hast perverted nature in them. The earth 
 Presents her fruits to them, and is not thanked. 
 The harvest sun is constant, and they scarce 
 Return his smile. Their flocks and herds increase, 
 And they look on as men who count a loss. 
 There's not a blessing Heaven vouchsafes them, but 
 The thought of thee doth wither to a curse, 
 As something they must lose, and had far better 
 Lack. 
 
 Ges. 'Tis well. I'd have them as their hills 
 That never smile, though wanton summer tempt 
 Them e'er so much. 
 
 Tell. But they do sometimes smile. 
 
 Ges. Ah ! when is that ? 
 
 Tell. When they do pray for vengeance. 
 
 Ges. Dare they pray for that ? 
 
 Tell. They dare, and they expect it too. 
 
 Ges. From whence? 
 
 Tell. From Heaven and their true hearts. 
 
 Ges. (To Sarnem.) Lead in his son. Now will I take 
 Exquisite vengeance. (To Tell as the boy enters.) I have 
 
 destined him 
 To die along with thee. ■ [ 
 
 Tell. To die 1 for what ? he's but a child. 
 
 Ges. He's thine, however. 
 
 Tell. He is an only child. j 
 
 Ges. So much the easier to crush the race. q 
 
 Tell. He may have a mother. 
 
 Ges. So the viper hath ; 
 And yet who spares it for the mother's sake % 
 
 Tell. I talk to stone. I'll talk to it no more ; 
 Come, my boy, I taught thee how to live, 
 I'll teach thee how to die. i 
 
 Ges. But first I'd see thee make ! ^ 
 
 A trial of thy skill, with that same bow. 
 Thy arrows never miss, 'tis said. 
 
 Tell. What is the trial ? 
 
 Ges. Thou look'st upon thy boy, as though thou guess- 
 edst it. 
 
 Tell. Look upon my boy ! What mean you ? 
 
 A 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 203 
 
 Look upon my boy, as though I guessed it !— 
 Guess the trial thoud'st have me make ! 
 Guessed it instinctively ! Thou dost not mean — ■ 
 No, no — Thou would'st not have me make 
 A trial of my skill upon my child ! 
 Impossible ! I do not guess thy meaning. 
 
 Ges, I'd see thee hit an apple on his head. 
 Three hundred paces off. 
 
 Tell. Great Heaven ! 
 
 Ges. On this condition only, will I spare 
 His life and thine. 
 
 Tell. Ferocious monster ! make a father murder his own 
 child ! 
 
 Ges. Dost thou consent ? 
 
 Tell. With his own hand ! 
 The hand Pve led him when an infant by ! 
 My hands are free from blood, and have no gust 
 For it, that they should drink my child's. 
 I'll not murder my boy, for Gesler. 
 
 Boy. You will not hit me, father. You'll be sure 
 To hit the apple. Will you not save me, father ? 
 
 Tell. Lead me forth— I'll make the trial. 
 
 Boy. Father — 
 
 Tell. Speak not to me ; — 
 Let me not hear thy voice. Thou must be dumb ; 
 ^.nd so should all things be— Earth should be dumb 
 And Heaven, unless its thunder muttered at 
 The deed, and sent a bolt to stop it. 
 Give me my bow and quiver. 
 
 Ges. When all is ready, Sarnem, measure hence 
 The distance— three hundred paces. 
 
 Tell. Will he do it fairly? 
 
 Ges. What is't to thee, fairly or not ? 
 
 Tell. {Sarcastically.) O, nothing, a little thing, 
 A very little thing, I only shoot 
 
 At my child ! [Sarnem prepares to measure 
 
 Villain., stop ! you measure against the sun. 
 
 Ges. And what of that ? 
 What matter whether to or from the sun? 
 
 Tell. I'd have it at my back. The sun should shine 
 Upon the mark, and not on him that shoots ; 
 I will not shoot against the sun. 
 
204 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Ges. Give him his way. [Sarnem paces and goes out. 
 
 Tell. I should like to see the apple I must hit. 
 
 Ges. {Picks out the smallest one.) There, take that. 
 
 Tell. You've pick'd the smallest one. 
 
 Ges. I know I have. Thy skill will be 
 The greater if thou hittest it. 
 
 Tell. {Sarcastically.) True — true! I did not think of 
 that. 
 I wonder I did not think of that. A larger one 
 Had given me a chance to save my boy. 
 Give me my bow. Let me see my quiver. 
 
 Ges. [To an attendant.] Give him a sfngle arrow. 
 [Tell looks at the arrow and breaks it.] 
 
 Tell. Let me see my quiver. It is not 
 One arrow in a dozen I would use 
 To shoot with at a dove, much less, a dove 
 Like that. 
 
 Ges. Show him the quiver. 
 
 [Sarnem returns, and takes the apple and the boy to place them. 
 While this is doing, Tell conceals an arrow under his garment 
 He then selects another arrow.] 
 
 Tell. Is the boy ready 1 Keep silence now, 
 For Heaven's sake ; and be my witnesses. 
 That if his life's in peril from my hand, 
 'Tis only for the chance of saving it. 
 For mercy's sake keep motionless and silent. 
 
 [He aims and shoots in the direction of the boy. In a moment 
 Sarnem enters with the apple on the arrow 1 s point.] 
 
 Sar. The boy is safe. 
 
 Tell. [Raising his arms.] Thank Heaven ! 
 
 [As he raises his arms, the concealed arrow falls.] 
 
 Ges. [Picking it up.] Unequalled archer ! Why was this 
 concealed ? 
 
 Tell, To kill thee, tyrant, had I slain my boy. 
 
 Gesler, the Austrian governor, ordered homage to be paid to his hat. 
 William Tellj of Switzerland, for refusing thus to degrade himself, was 
 compelled by the tyrant to shoot an arrow at an apple, placed on his own 
 son's head, or else suffer, with his child, instant death. Fortunately, he 
 hit the apple. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 205 
 
 93. Extract from Damon and Pythias. — Shiel 
 Damon, Lucullus, Procles, and Pythias. 
 
 [Damon alo?ie.] 
 
 Damon. Philistus^ then, is president at last, 
 And Dionysius has o'erswayed it ? Well, 
 It is what I expected : — there is now 
 No public virtue left in Syracuse. 
 What should be hoped from a degenerate, 
 Corrupted, and voluptuous populace, 
 When highly-born and meanly-minded nobles 
 Would barter freedom for a great man's feast, 
 And sell their country for a smile"? The stream, 
 With a more sure, eternal tendency, 
 Seeks not the ocean, than a sensual race 
 Their own devouring slavery. 1 am sick 
 At my inmost heart, of every thing I see 
 And hear ! — Oh Syracuse, I am at last 
 Forced to despair of thee ! And yet thou art 
 My land of birth, — thou art my country still ; 
 And like an unkind mother, thou hast left 
 The claims of holiest nature in my heart, 
 
 And I must sorrow for not hate thee ! 
 
 [Shouts.] Ha ! 
 What shouts are these ? 'Tis from the citadel 
 The uproar is descending. \JEnter Imcullus. 
 
 Speak, Lucullus, what has befallen? 
 
 Lucullus. Have you heard the news? 
 
 Da. What news? 
 
 Luc As through the streets I passed, the people 
 Said that the citadel was in the hands 
 Of Dionysius. 
 
 Da. The citadel 
 In Dionysius' hands? What dost thou tell me? 
 How, — wherefore, — w T hen ? In Dionysius' hands ! 
 The traitor Dionysius ! Speak, Lucullus, 
 And quickly. 
 
 Luc. It was said, that by rude force, 
 Heading a troop of soldiers, he has taken 
 Possession of the citadel, and seized 
 The arms and treasure in't. [Exit. 
 
 18 
 
206 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Da. I am thunder stricken ! 
 The citadel assaulted, and the armory 
 In that fierce soldier's power ! [Shouts.] Again ! By all 
 The gods on high Olympus, I behold 
 His standard waving over it,— and they come, 
 His most notorious satellites, high heaped 
 With arms and plunder ! Parricidal slaves, 
 What have ye done ? 
 
 [Enter P rocks and Soldiers.] 
 
 Soldiers. For Dionysius ! Ho ! 
 For Dionysius ! 
 
 Da. Silence ! — Obstreperous traitors ! 
 Your throats offend the quiet of the city ; 
 And thou, who standest foremost of these knaves, 
 Stand back, and answer me, — a senator ; 
 What have you done ? 
 
 Proc. But that I know 'twill gall thee, 
 Thou poor and talking pedant of the school 
 Of dull Pythagoras, I'd let thee make 
 Conjecture from thy senses. But, in hope 
 'Twill stir your solemn anger, le.arn from me, 
 We have taken possession of the citadel, 
 And— 
 
 Da. Patience, ye good gods ! a moment's patience, 
 That these too ready hands may not enforce 
 The desperate precept of my rising heart — 
 Thou most contemptible and meanest tool 
 That ever tyrant used ! 
 
 Proc. Do you hear him, soldiers ? 
 First, for thy coward railings at myself, 
 And since thou hast called our Dionysius tyrant, 
 Here, in the open streets of Syracuse, 
 I brand thee for a liar, and a traitor ! 
 
 Da. Audacious slave ! 
 
 Proc. Upon him, soldiers, — 
 Hew him to pieces ! 
 
 [Enter Pythias, as they rush on Damon.] 
 
 Pythias. Back, on your lives ! 
 Cowards, treacherous cowards, back, I say ! 
 Do you know me ? Look upon me ; do you know 
 This honest sword I brandish? You have seen it 
 Among the ranks of Carthage ; woulcl you now 
 

 FOR EXERCISES. 207 
 
 Taste its shrewd coldness in your quaking selves? 
 Back ! back ! I say. He hath his armor on — 
 I am his sword, shield, helm ; I but enclose 
 Myself, and my own heart, and heart's blood, when 
 I thus stand before him. 
 
 Da. False hearted cravens ! 
 We are but two — my Pythias, my halved heart — 
 My Pythias, and myself; but dare come on, 
 Ye hirelings of a tyrant ! dare advance 
 A foot, or raise an arm, or bend a bow, 
 And ye shall learn what two such arms can do 
 Amongst a thousand of ye. My good friend, 
 The gods have sei^ thee to me. Who had deemed 
 To find thee here from Agrigentum ? 
 
 [Soldiers advance.] 
 
 Pyth. Off! off! villains, off! 
 Why, Procles, — art thou not ashamed — for I, 
 I have seen thee do good work in battle time — 
 Art thou not ashamed, here on a single man 
 To rush in coward numbers? Fie upon thee ! 
 I took thee for a soldier. 
 
 Proc. For thy sake, 
 Who art a warrior like ourselves, we spare him. — 
 'Twas a good star of his that led thee hither 
 From Agrigentum, to lift up thine arm 
 In the defence of that long robe of peace, 
 Wherein he wraps his stern philosophy. 
 Come, teach him better manners. Soldiers, on, — 
 Let us to Dionysius. [Exit Procles and Soldiers. 
 
 Pyth. {To Damon.) Art thou safe 
 From these infuriate stabbers ? 
 
 Da. Thanks to thee, 
 I am safe, my gallant soldier, and fast friend ; 
 My better genius sent thee to my side, 
 When I did think thee far from Syracuse. 
 
 Pyth. I have won leave to spend some interval 
 From the fierce war, and come to Syracuse, 
 With purpose to espouse the fair Calanthe. — 
 The gods have led me hither, since I come 
 In time to rescue thee. 
 How grew this rude broil up? 
 
 Da. Things go on here 
 
208 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Most execrably, Pythias. But you are come 
 To be a husband, are you not 1 
 
 Pyth. To-morrow, I call the fair Calanthe wife. 
 
 Da. Then, Pythias, 
 I will not shade the prospect of your joys 
 With any griefs of mine. I cry you mercy — 
 These are experiments too over-nice 
 For one that has a mistress, and would wed her 
 With an uncut throat. I have wished myself, 
 That to the blessed retreats of private life 
 My lot had been awanded ; every hour 
 Makes one more sick and weary with the sense 
 Of this same hopeless service of a State, 
 Where there is not of virtue left 
 To feed the narings of our liberty. 
 But, my soldier, 
 
 I will not make thee a participant 
 In my most sad forebodings. Pythias, 
 I say ''twere better to be the Persians slave, 
 And let him tread upon thee when he would 
 
 Ascend his horse's back, than yet not so, 
 
 I am too much galled and fretted to pronounce 
 A sober judgment, and the very mask 
 Of freedom is yet better than the bold, 
 Un cover' d front of tyranny. — Farewell) 
 
 Dionysius, king of Sicily, was a tyrant. He reigned over the island of 
 Sicily forty years, and died 336 years before Christ. One great reason 
 why he was unhappy in the midst of all the treasures and honors, with 
 which royalty furnished him, arises from the consideration, that he was a 
 stranger to that purity of motive, which created the disinterested and un- 
 dying friendship, that subsisted between Damon and Pythias. The tyrant 
 believed that self-interest is the sole mover of human actions, unti$ha 
 was taught better, by witnessing this example of sacred and immortal 
 friendship. 
 
 94. Isabella, pleading before Angelo. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Angelo, Isabella and Lucio. 
 
 Isabella. I am a woful suitor to your honor ; 
 Please but your honor hear me. 
 Angelo. Well ; what's your suit ? 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 209 
 
 Isab. There is a vice, that most I do abhor, 
 And most desire should meet the blow of justice, 
 For which I would not plead, but that I must ; 
 For which I must not plead, but that I am 
 At war, 'twixt will, and will not. 
 
 Ang Well, the matter, the matter ? 
 
 Isab. I have a brother is condemn'd to die ; 
 I do beseech you, let it be his fault, 
 And not my brother. 
 
 Ang. Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it ! 
 Why, every fault's condemned, ere it be done ; 
 Mine were the very cipher of a fraction, 
 To find the faults, whose fine stands in record, 
 And let go by the actor. 
 
 Isab, O just, but severe law ! 
 I had a brother then. Heaven keep your honor ! [Retiring. 
 
 Lucio. [To Isabella.] Give't not o'er so ; to him again, 
 entreat him ; 
 Kneel down before him ; hang upon his gown ; 
 You are too cold ; if you should need a pin, 
 You could not with more tame a tongue desire it ; 
 To him, I say. 
 
 Isab. [To Angelo.] Must he needs die? 
 
 Ang. Maiden, no remedy. 
 
 Isab. Yes ; 1 do think that you might pardon him, 
 And neither heaven nor man, grieve at the mercy. 
 
 Ang. I will not do't. 
 
 Isab. But can you, if you would 1 
 
 Ang. Look ; what I will not, that I cannot do. 
 
 Isab. But might you do't, and do the world no wrong, 
 If so, your heart were touched with that remorse 
 As mine is to him ? 
 
 Ang. He's sentenced ; 'tis too late. 
 
 Isab. Too late ? why, no ; I, that do speak a word, 
 May call it back again. Well, believe this, — 
 No ceremony that to great one 'longs, 
 Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, 
 The marshal's truncheons, nor the judge's robe, 
 Become them with half so good a grace, 
 As mercy does. If he had been as you, 
 And you as he, you would have slipt like him ; 
 But he, like you, would not have been so stern. 
 18* 
 
210 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Ang. Pray you begone. 
 
 Isab. I would to heaven I had your potency, 
 And you were IsabeJ ! should it then be thus ? 
 No ; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge, 
 And what a prisoner. 
 
 Ang. Your brother is a forfeit of the law, 
 And you but waste your words. 
 
 Isab. Alas ! alas ! 
 Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once ; 
 And He that might the 'vantage best have took, 
 Found out the remedy. How would you be, 
 If He who is the top of judgment, should 
 But judge you as you are ? O, think on that ; 
 And mercy then will breathe within your lips, 
 Like man new made. 
 
 Ang. Be you content, fair maid ; 
 It is the law, not I, condemns your brother ; 
 Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son, 
 It should be thus with him. He must die to-morrow. 
 
 Isab. To-morrow ? O, that's sudden % Spare him, spare him : 
 He's not prepared for death ! Even for our kitchens 
 We kill the fowl of season ; shall we serve heaven 
 With less respect than we do minister 
 To our gross selves ? Good, good my lord, bethink you, 
 Who is it that hath died for this offence ? 
 There's many have committed it. 
 
 Ang. The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept ; 
 Those many had not dar'd to do that evil, 
 If the first man that did the edict infringe, 
 Had answer'd for his deed : now, 'tis awake ; 
 Takes note of what is done ; and, like a prophet, 
 Looks in a glass, that shows what future evils 
 Are now to have no successive degrees ; 
 But, where they live, to end. 
 
 Isab. Yet show some pity. 
 
 Ang. I show it most of all, when I show justice ; 
 For then I pity those I do not know, 
 Which a dismissed offence would after gall ; 
 And do him right, that, answering one foul wrong, 
 Lives not to act another. Be satisfied ; 
 Your brother dies to-morrow, — be content. 
 
 Isab. So you must be the first that gives, this sentence — 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 211 
 
 And he, that suffers ! O, it is excellent 
 
 To have a giant's strength ; but it is tyrannous 
 
 To use it like a giant. 
 
 Could great men thunder 
 
 As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet ; 
 
 For every pelting petty officer 
 
 Would use his heaven for thunder ; nothing but thunder. — 
 
 Merciful heaven ! 
 
 Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, 
 
 Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, 
 
 Than the soft myrtle : O, but man, proud man ! 
 
 Drest in a little brief authority, 
 
 Most ignorant of what he's most assured, 
 
 Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, 
 
 As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens, 
 
 Would all themselves laugh mortal. 
 
 We cannot weigh our brother with ourself ; 
 
 Great men may jest with saints ; 'tis wit in them; 
 
 But, in less, foul profanation. 
 
 That in the captain's but a choleric word, 
 
 Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. 
 
 Ang. Why do you put these sayings upon me? 
 
 Isab. Because authority, though it err like others, 
 Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself, 
 That skims the vice o' the top. Go to your bosom ; 
 Knock there ; and ask your heai% what it doth know 
 That's like my brother's fault ; if it confess 
 A natural guiltiness, such as is his, » 
 
 Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue, 
 Against my brother's life. 
 
 Aug. She speaks, and 'tis 
 Such sense, that my sense breeds with it. — Fare you well. 
 
 Isab. Gentle, my lord, turn back. 
 
 Ang. I will bethink me. Come again to-morrow. 
 
 Isab. Hark, how I'll bribe you ! Good, my lord, turn 
 back. 
 
 Ang. How ! bribe me % 
 
 Isab. Ay, with such gifts, that heaven shall share with you 3 
 Not with fond shekels of the tested gold, 
 Or stones, whose rates are either rich or poor, 
 As fancy values them ; but with true prayers, 
 That shall be up in heaven, and enter there, 
 
212 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Ere sunrise ; prayers from preserved souls, 
 From fasting maids, whose minds are dedicate 
 To nothing temporal. 
 
 Ang. Well, come to me 
 To-morrow. 
 
 Isab. Heaven keep your honor safe. 
 
 Ang. Amen : for I [Aside. 
 
 Am that way going to temptation, 
 Where prayers cross. 
 
 Isab. At what hour to-morrow, 
 Shall I attend your lordship? 
 
 Ang. At any time 'fore noon. 
 
 Isab. Save your honor. [Exit Isabella and Lucia. 
 
 Ang. From thee I even from thy virtue ! — 
 What's this % what's this ? Is this her fault or mine 2 
 The tempter, or the tempted, who sins most ? Ha ! 
 Not she ; nor doth she tempt ; but it is I. 
 Can it be, 
 
 That modesty may more betray our sense 
 Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough, 
 Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary, 
 And pitch our evils there ? O, fie ! he\ fie ! 
 What dost thou ? or what art thou, Angelo ? 
 O, let her brother live, — 
 Thieves, for their robbery, have authority, 
 When judges steal themselves. What! do I love her 
 That I desire to hear her speak again, 
 And feast upon her eyes 1 What is't I dream on ? 
 O cunning enemy ! that, to catch a saint, 
 With saints dost bait thy hook ? Most dangerous 
 Is that temptation, that doth goad us on 
 To sin in loving virtue. This virtuous maid 
 Subdues me quite. Ever, till now, 
 When men were fond, I smil'd and wondered how. 
 
 " Remorse," in the phrase, " If so, your heart were touched with that 
 remorse," means pity or compassion. Where Isabella says, " We kill the 
 fowl of season" she means, not before it is in season, not prematurely, as 
 
 Angelo would kill her brother. " Preserved," in the phrase, " prayers 
 
 from preserved souls," means pure. Where Angelo exclaims, " O cun- 
 ning enemy" he means Satan. Angelo was lord deputy of Vienna, and 
 Isabella plead before him, for the life of her condemned brother, Claudio 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 213 
 
 95. Mutual Upbraidings of Edward and Warwick. — Dr. 
 Thomas Franklin. 
 
 Edward. Let me have no intruders ; above all, 
 Keep Warwick from my sight — 
 
 [Enter Warwick.] 
 
 Warwick. Behold him here ; 
 No welcome guest, it seems, unless I ask 
 My lord of Suffolk's leave — there was a time 
 When Warwick wanted not his aid to gain 
 Admission here. 
 
 Edw. There was a time perhaps 
 When Warwick more desired, and more deserved it. 
 
 War. Never. I've been a foolish, faithful slave; 
 All my best years, the morning of my life, 
 Hath been devoted to your service ; what 
 Are now the fruits? Disgrace and infamy; 
 My spotless name, which never yet the breath 
 Of calumny had tainted, made the mock 
 For foreign fools to carp at, — but 'tis fit, 
 Who trust in princes should be thus rewarded. 
 
 Edw. I thought my lord I had full well repaid 
 Your services with honors, wealth, and power 
 Unlimited, — thy all-directing hand 
 Guided in secret every latent wheel 
 Of government, and moved the whole machine ; 
 Warwick was all in all, and powerless Edward 
 Stood like a cipher in the great account. 
 
 War. Who gave that cipher worth, and seated thee 
 On England's throne? Thy undistinguished name 
 Had rotted in the dust from which it sprang, 
 And mouldered in oblivion — had not Warwick 
 Dug from its sordid mine the useless ore, 
 And stamped it with a diadem. Thou knowest 
 This wretched country, — doomed perhaps like Rome, 
 To fall by its own self-destroying hand, 
 Tost for so many years in the rough sea 
 Of civil discord, but for me had perished. 
 In that distressful hour, I seized the helm, 
 Bade the rough waves subside in peace, and steered 
 Your shattered vessel safe into the harbor. 
 
214 SELECT PIECES 
 
 You may despise, perhaps, that useless aid 
 
 Which you no longer want ; but know, proud youth, 
 
 He who forgets a friend, deserves a foe. 
 
 Edw. Know too, reproach for benefits received, 
 Pays every debt, and cancels obligation. 
 
 War. Why, that indeed is frugal honesty, 
 A thrifty, saving knowledge, — when the debt 
 Grows burdensome, and cannot be discharged, 
 A sponge will wipe out all, and cost you nothing. 
 
 Edw. When you have counted o'er the numerous tra ; r 
 Of mighty gifts your bounty lavished on me, 
 You may remember next the injuries 
 Which I have done you, — let me know them all, 
 And I will make you ample satisfaction. 
 
 War. Thou canst not ; thou hast robbed me of a jewel 
 It is not in thy power to restore ; 
 I was the first, shall future annals say, 
 That broke the sacred bond of public trust 
 And mutual confidence ; ambassadors, 
 In after times, mere instruments, perhaps, 
 Of venal statesmen, shall recal my name 
 To witness that they want not an example, 
 And plead my guilt to sanctify their own. 
 Amidst the herd of mercenary slaves 
 
 That haunt your court, could none be found but Warwick, 
 To be the shameless herald of a lie ? 
 
 Edw. And would'st thou turn the vile reproach on me? 
 If I have broke my faith, or stained the name 
 Of England, thank thy own pernicious counsels 
 That urged me to it, and extorted from me 
 A cold consent to what my heart abhored. 
 
 War. I've been abused, insulted, and betrayed: 
 My injured honor cries aloud for vengeance. 
 Her wounds will never close ! 
 
 Edw. These gusts of passion 
 Will but inflame them, — if I have been right 
 Informed, my lord, besides these dangerous scars 
 Of bleeding honor, you have other wounds 
 As deep, though not so fatal ; — such, perhaps, 
 As none but fair Elizabeth can cure. 
 
 War. Elizabeth ! 
 
 Edw. Nay, start not, — I have cause 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 215 
 
 To wonder most ; — I little thought indeed, 
 When Warwick told me I might learn to love, 
 He was himself so able to instruct me; 
 But I've discovered all — 
 
 War. And so have I ; 
 Too well I know thy breach of friendship there, 
 Thy fruitless, base endeavors to supplant me. 
 
 Edw. I scorn it, sir,-"-Eiizabeth hath charms, 
 And 1 have equal right with you to admire them ; 
 Nor see I aught so godlike in the form, 
 So all commanding in the name of Warwick, 
 That he alone should revel in the charms 
 Of beauty, and monopolize perfection. 
 I knew not of your love. 
 
 War. 'Tis false! 
 You knew it all, and meanly took occasion, 
 Whilst I was busied in the noble office 
 Your grace thought fit to honor me withal, 
 To tamper with a weak, unguarded woman, 
 To bribe her passions high, and basely steal 
 A treasure, which your kingdom could not purchase. 
 
 Edw. How know you that? — but be it as it may, 
 I had a right, nor will I tamely yield 
 My claim to happiness, the privilege 
 To choose the partner of my throne and bed ; 
 It is a branch of my prerogative. 
 
 War. Prerogative ! — What's that % the boast of tyrants ; 
 A borrowed jewel, glittering in the crown 
 With specious lustre, lent but to betray. 
 You had it, sir, and hold it from the people. 
 
 Edw. And therefore do I prize it, — I would guard 
 Their liberties, and they shall strengthen mine; 
 But when proud faction and her rebel crew 
 Insult their sovereign, trample on his laws, 
 And bid defiance to his power, the people, 
 Injustice to themselves, will then defend 
 His cause, and vindicate the rights they gave. 
 
 War. Go to your darling people then, for soon, 
 If I mistake not, 'twill be needful ; try 
 Their boasted zeal, and see if one of them 
 Will dare to lift his arm up in your cause, 
 If 1 forbid them. 
 
216 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Edw. Is it so, my lord ? 
 Then mark my words. I've been your slave too long, 
 And you have ruled me with a rod of iron j 
 But henceforth know, proud peer, I am thy master. 
 And will be so, — the king- who delegates 
 His power to other's hands, but ill deserves 
 The crown he wears. 
 
 War. Look well then to your own ; 
 It sits but loosely on your head ; for know, 
 The man who injured Warwick, never passed 
 Unpunished yet. 
 
 Edw. Nor he who threatened Edward — 
 
 You may repent it, sir — my guards there seize 
 
 This traitor, and convey him to the tower j 
 There let him learn obedience. 
 
 This excellent dialogue was translated from the French language by Dr. 
 Thomas Franklin. In several instances, as the italicised words indicate, 
 the voice should break forth with great power. 
 
 96. Hamlet and Horatio. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Horatio. Hail to your lordship ! 
 
 Hamlet. I am glad to see you well. [Approaches. 
 
 Horatio ! — or I do forget myself. 
 
 Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. 
 
 Ham. Sir, my good friend, I'll change that name with you. 
 And what makes you from Wittenberg, Horatio ? 
 
 Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord. 
 
 Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so j 
 Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, 
 To make it truster of your own report 
 Against yourself. I know you are no truant; 
 But what is your affair in Elsinore? 
 We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart. 
 
 Hor. My lord I came to see your father's funeral. 
 
 Ham. I pray thee do not mock me, fellow-student ] 
 I think it was to see my mother's wedding.. 
 
 Hor. Indeed ! my lord, it followed hard upon. 
 
 Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio ! the funeral baked meats 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 217 
 
 Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. 
 Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven, 
 Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio ! 
 My father — methinks I see my father — 
 
 Hor. Where, my lord % 
 
 Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio. 
 
 Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly king. 
 
 Ham. He was a man, take him for all and all, 
 I shall not look upon his like again. 
 
 Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight 
 
 Ham, Saw who ? 
 
 Hor. My lord, the king, your father. 
 Season your admiration, for a while, 
 With an attent ear ; till I may deliver, 
 Upon the witness of these gentlemen, 
 This marvel to you. 
 
 Ham. For heaven's love, let me hear. 
 
 Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen, 
 Marcellus and Bernardo, on the watch, 
 In the dead waste and middle of the night, 
 Been thus encountered : a figure like your father, 
 Armed at point, exactly, cap-a-pie, 
 Appears before them, and, with solemn march, 
 Goes slow and stately by them : thrice he walks 
 By their oppressed and fear surprised eyes, 
 Within his truncheon's length ; whilst they, distilled 
 Almost to jelly with the act of fear, 
 Stand dumb and speak not to him. 
 
 Ham. But where was this % 
 
 Hor. My lord, upon the platform where we watch 1 cL 
 
 Ham. Did you not speak to it ? 
 
 Hor. My lord, I did ; 
 But answer made it none ; yet once methought 
 It lifted up its head, and did address 
 Itself to motion, like as it would speak ; 
 But, even then, the morning cock crew aloud; 
 And at the sound it shrunk in haste away, 
 And vanished from our sight. 
 
 Ham. 'Tis very strange ! 
 
 Hor. As I do live, my honored lord, 'tis true; 
 And we did think it writ down in our duty, 
 To let you know of it. 
 19 
 
218 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Ham, Indeed, indeed, sir, but this troubles me. 
 Hold you the watch to-night % 
 
 Hot. We do, my lord. 
 
 Ham. Armed, say you % 
 
 Hot. Armed, my lord. 
 
 Ham. From top to toe ? 
 
 Hot. My lord, from head to foot 
 
 Ham. Then saw you not his face ? 
 
 Hot. O yes, my lord ; he wore his beaver up. 
 
 Ham. What, looked he frowningly 1 
 
 Hot. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. 
 
 Ham. Pale or red ? 
 
 Hot. Nay, very pale. 
 
 Ham. And fixed his eyes upon you ? 
 
 Hot. Most constantly. 
 
 Ham. I would, I had been there. 
 
 Hot. It would have much amazed you. 
 
 Ham. Very like, very like ; staid it long ? 
 
 Hot. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. 
 
 Ham. His beard was grizzled 1 No ? — 
 
 Hot. It was, as I have seen it in his life, 
 A sable silvered. 
 
 Ham. I'll watch to-night ; perchance 'twill walk again. 
 
 Hot. I warrant you, it will. 
 
 Ham. If it assume my noble father's person, 
 I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape, 
 And bid me hold my peace. 1 pray you, sir, 
 If you have hitherto concealed this sight, 
 Let it be tenable in your silence still ; 
 And whatsoever else shall hap to-night, 
 Give it an understanding, but no tongue ; 
 I will requite your love ; so fare you well ; 
 Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve, 
 I'll visit you. 
 
 Where Hamlet says, "I shall not look upon his like again," he proba- 
 bly means eye, that is, no man, shall ever " look upon his like again." 
 Great histrionic performers of Shakspeare, differ in their manner, of read- 
 ing the question, "Did you not speak to it!" Kcmble laid the emphasis 
 on the word, "you," — Garrick on, "speak." If the question were put, 
 what, instead of "Who shall decide when doctors disagree*?" the writer 
 would answer, good sense. Horatio had just informed Hamlet, that Mar- 
 jellus and Bernardo were afraid to speak to the ghost of his father ; and, 
 after ascertaining where this marvellous event took place, the prince pro- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 219 
 
 pounds the question, " Did you not speak to it 1" His meaning seems to 
 be, — were you, as well as the gentlemen whom you name, afraid to speak % 
 and, moreover, had I been there, I would have spoken. Indeed, so deter- 
 mined was Hamlet to do this, that he says in the last sentence — 
 
 " I'll speak to it though hell itself should gape 
 And bid me hold my peace." 
 
 97. Othello and Iago. — Shakspeare. 
 lago. My noble lord- 
 
 Othello. What dost thou say, Iago? 
 
 Iago, Did Michael Cassio, when you wooed my lady, 
 Know of your love ? 
 
 Oth. He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask? 
 
 Iago. But for the satisfaction of my thoughts j 
 No further harm. 
 
 Oth. Why of thy thought, Iago ? 
 
 Iago. I did not think he had been acquainted with her. 
 
 Oth. O, yes ; and went between us very oft 
 
 Iago. Indeed ! 
 
 Oth. Indeed ! ay, indeed. — Discern'st thou aught in that? 
 Is he not honest? 
 
 Iago. Honest, my lord ? 
 
 Oth. Ay, honest. 
 
 Iago. My lord, for aught I know. 
 
 Oth. What dost thou think? 
 
 Iago. Think, my lord ? 
 
 Oth. Think, my lord ! 
 Why, thou dost echo me, 
 As if there were some monster in thy thought 
 Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something ; 
 I heard thee say but now : " I like not that," — 
 When Cassius left my wife. What didst not like ? 
 And when I told thee he was of my counsel 
 In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst : " Indeed I" 
 And didst contract and purse thy brow together, 
 As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain 
 Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me, 
 Show me thy thought. 
 
 Iago. My lord, you know I love you. 
 
220 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Oth. I think thou dost ; 
 And for I know^thou art full of love and honesty, 
 And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath, — 
 Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more ; 
 For such things, in a false, disloyal knave, 
 Are tricks of custom ; but in a man that's just, 
 They are close denotements, working from the heart 
 That passion cannot rule. 
 
 lagd. For Michael Cassio, 
 I dare be sworn, I think that he is honest. 
 
 Oth. I think so too. 
 
 lago. Men should be that they seem ; 
 Or, those that be not, 'would they might seem none ! 
 
 Oth. Certain, men should be what they seem. 
 
 Iago. Why, then, I think that Cassio is an honest man. 
 
 Oth. Nay, yet there's more in this ; 
 I pray thee, speak to me as to thy thinkings, 
 As thou dost ruminate ; and give thy worst of thoughts 
 The worst of words. 
 
 Iago. Good my lord, pardon me ; 
 Though I am bound to every act of duty, 
 I am not bound to that all slaves are free to. — 
 Utter my thoughts ? Why, say they are vile and false, — 
 As where's that palace, whereinto foul things 
 Sometimes intrude not ? Who has a breast so pure, 
 But some uncleanly apprehensions 
 Keep leets. and law-days, and in sessions sit 
 With meditations lawful ? [Exit Iago. 
 
 Oth. This fellow's of exceeding honesty, 
 And knows all qualities with a learned spirit, 
 Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard, 
 Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings, 
 I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind, 
 To pray at fortune. 
 
 I think my wife be honest, and I think she's not ; 
 I think Iago is just, and I think he*s not ; 
 I'll have some proof, — her name that was as fresh 
 As Dian's visage, is now begrim'd, and black 
 As mine own face. — [weeps.] O Desdemona ! 
 Had it pleased heaven 
 To try me with affliction ; had he rain'd 
 All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head [ 
 

 FOR EXERCISES. 221 
 
 Steeped me in poverty to the very lips, 
 
 Given to captivity, me and my hopes, — 
 
 I should have found in some part of my soul 
 
 A drop of patience. 
 
 But then where I have garner'd up my heart, — 
 
 Where, either I must live, or bear no life ; 
 
 The fountain from the which my current runs, 
 
 Or else dries up ; to be discarded thence ! 
 
 O now, forever, 
 Farewell the tranquil mind ! Farewell content ! 
 Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, 
 That make ambition virtue. O, farewell ! 
 Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump. 
 The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, 
 The royal banner, and all quality, 
 Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! 
 And O, ye mortal engines, whose rude throats 
 The immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit, 
 Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone. 
 
 " One sinner destroyeth much good." Tago said of Desdemona — 
 
 " By how much she strives to do him good, 
 She shall undo her credit with the Moor." 
 
 So " out of her own goodness," the villain made 
 
 « the net" 
 
 
 " That " did " enmesh them all." 
 
 98. Alonzo's Soliloquy. — Dr. Edward Young. 
 
 [Alonzo has a dagger concealed beneath his mantle. His beautiful wife, 
 Leonora, is in a bower of roses asleep.] 
 
 Ye amaranths ! ye roses like the morn ! 
 Sweet myrtles, and ye golden orange groves ! 
 Why do ye smile % Why do you look so fair % 
 Are ye not blasted as I enter in % 
 Yes see how every flower lets fall its head? 
 How shudders every leaf without a wind, 
 How every green is as ivy pale ! 
 Did ever midnight ghosts assemble We ? 
 19* 
 
222 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Have ever these sweet echoes learned to groan? 
 Joy-giving, love-inspiring, holy bower ! 
 Know, in thy fragrant bosom thou receivest 
 
 A murderer ! Oh, I shall stain thy lilies ; 
 
 And horror will usurp the seat of bliss. 
 So Lucifer broke into paradise, 
 
 And soon damnation followed ! [Advancing. 
 
 Ha ! she sleeps. [In a whisper. 
 The day's uncommon heat has overcome her. 
 Then take, my longing eyes, your last full gaze. 
 Oh ! what a sight is here ! how dreadful fair ! 
 Who would not think that being innocent % 
 Where shall I strike? who strikes her, strikes himself. 
 My own life-blood will issue from her wound. 
 Oh ! my distracted heart! Oh, cruel heaven ! 
 To give such charms as these, and then to call on man, 
 Mere man, to be your executioner. 
 Was it because it was too hard for you ? 
 But see, she smiles ! I never shall smile more. 
 It strongly tempts me to a parting kiss. 
 Ha! smile again. [Goes towards her, and starts back.] She 
 
 dreams of him she loves. 
 Curse on her charms ! I'll stab her through them all. 
 
 It appears from Dr. Young's " Revenge," that Alonzo was made jealous 
 of Leonora, by the impositions of Zango, the Moor ; and that he formed 
 the dreadful resolution, to put a period to her life, by his own hand. For 
 this purpose, he supplies himself with a weapon of death, and steals to the 
 bower where she is sleeping. Jealousy is, indeed, "a green-eyed mon- 
 ster." It " doats, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves " — "it caresses 
 and kills at the same time !" In a word, " it destroys that which it cannot 
 live without." It was emphatically so with Othello. It is equally true of 
 Alonzo. In the beautiful and eloquent language of the Rev. C. C. Burr, 
 of Philadelphia, as the writer found it in one of that gentleman's excel- 
 lent lectures on the passions : — " At one moment Leonora appears to 
 Alonzo's doting heart, lovely as an angel, beautiful as heaven, soft as a 
 milk-white lamb, libating for him in a bower of roses and amaranths, — 
 whose life and sweetness are met, — a sacrament of love, spread for him 
 alone, and where he may baptize his soul in bliss, — where he may revel 
 among those silver curls, clustering there, like tendrils of a parasite upon 
 alabaster columns. The next moment his fancy paints her all begrimed, 
 and black as hell." 
 
 Under the wrong impression that she had been false to her marriage 
 vows, he gave vent to the horrors of his mind in the above most admirable 
 soliloquy. Let the declaimer be careful "to suit the action to the word." 
 Let every important sentiment and emotion, be expressed through those 
 "windows of the soul," the eyes, as well as by the voice. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 223 
 
 99. Death of Alexander Hamilton. — Eliphalet Nott. 
 
 1. A short time since, and he who is the occasion of our 
 sorrows, was the ornament of his country. He stood on an 
 eminence ; and glory covered him. From that eminence he 
 has fallen — suddenly, — forever fallen. His intercourse w^ith 
 the living world is now ended ; and those who would here- 
 after find him, must seek him in the grave. There, cold and 
 lifeless is the heart, which just now was the seat of friendship. 
 There, dim and sightless is the eye, whose radiant and enli- 
 vening orb beamed with intelligence ; and there, closed for- 
 ever, are those lips, on whose persuasive accents, we have so 
 often, and so lately hung with transport. 
 
 2. From the darkness which rests upon his tomb, there 
 proceeds, methinks, a light, in which it is clearly seen, that 
 those gaudy objects which men pursue, are only phantoms. 
 In this light, how dimly shines the splendor of victory, — how 
 humble appears the majesty of grandeur ! The bubble which 
 seemed to have so much solidity, has burst ; and we again see, 
 that all below the sun, is vanity. 
 
 3. True, the funeral eulogy has been pronounced. The 
 sad and solemn procession has moved. The badge of mourn- 
 ing has already been decreed ; and presently the sculptured 
 marble will lift up its front, proud to perpetuate the name of 
 Hamilton, and rehearse to the passing traveller his virtues. 
 
 4. Just tributes of respect, and to the living useful; but to 
 him, mouldering in his narrow and humble habitation, what 
 are they ! How vain ! How unavailing ! 
 
 5. Approach and behold, while I lift from his sepulchre its 
 covering. Ye admirers of his greatness, ye emulous of hfi 
 
 v talents and his fame, approach and behold him now. How 
 pale! how silent! No martial bands admire the adroitness 
 of his movements. No fascinated throng weep, and melt, and 
 tremble at his eloquence. Amazing change ! A shroud ! a 
 coffin ! a narrow, subterraneous cabin ! This is all that now 
 remains of Hamilton ! And is this all that remains of him ? 
 During a life so transitory, what lasting monument then can 
 our fondest hopes erect? 
 
 6. My brethren! we stand on the borders of an awful 
 gulf, which is swallowing up all things human. And is there, 
 amidst this universal wreck, nothing stable, nothing abiding, 
 
224 SELECT PIECES 
 
 nothing immortal, on which poor, frail, dying man can 
 fasten % 
 
 7. Ask the hero, ask the statesman, whose wisdom you 
 have been accustomed to revere, and he will tell you. He 
 will tell, you, did I say? He has already told you, from his 
 death-bed; and his illumined spirit still whispers from the 
 heavens, with well-known eloquence, the solemn admonition : 
 " Mortals ! hastening to the tomb, and once the companions 
 of my pilgrimage, take warning, and avoid my errors, — culti- 
 vate the virtues I have recommended, — choose the Savior I 
 have chosen. Live disinterestedly. Live for immortality. 
 And would you rescue any thing from final dissolution, lay it 
 up in God." 
 
 Alexander Hamilton was doubtless " a great master of language and of 
 song." It is said that on one occasion, he called upon the dead to come 
 forth ; and, under the impression that they had broken their sacred slum- 
 bers, at the bidding of the speaker, the audience started up, and vacated 
 their seats, for the accommodation of those " that slept !" The duel to 
 which Dr. Nott alludes, and in which Hamilton was killed by Col. Burr, 
 was fought at Weehawk, on the Jersey shore, July 11th, 1804. General 
 Hamilton was born on the island of Nevis, in the year 1757. He wrote a 
 large portion of the constitution of the United States. Fisher Ames well 
 observes : "The country deeply laments, when it turns its eyes back, and 
 sees what Hamilton was ; but my soul stiffens with despair, when I think 
 what Hamilton would have been*" 
 
 100. Our Federal Union — its Inestimable Value. — Presi- 
 dent Polk. 
 
 1. The inestimable value of our federal union is felt and 
 acknowledged by all. By this system of united and confed- 
 erated states, our people are permitted, collectively and ind ; 
 vidually, to seek their own happiness in their own way ; and 
 the consequences have been most auspicious. Since the union 
 was formed, the number of states has increased from thirteen 
 to twenty-eight ; two of these have taken their position, as 
 members of the confederacy, within the last week. Our popu- 
 lation has increased from three to twenty millions. 
 
 2. New communities and states are seeking protection 
 under its aegis, and multitudes from the Old World are flock- 
 ing to our shores, to participate in its blessings. Beneath its 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 225 
 
 benign sway, peace and prosperity prevail. Freed from the 
 burdens and miseries of war, our trade and intercourse have 
 extended throughout the world. Mind, no longer tasked in 
 devising means to accomplish or resist schemes of ambition, 
 usurpation, or conquest, is devoting itself to man's true inter- 
 ests, in developing his faculties and powers, and the capacity 
 of nature, to minister to his enjoyments. 
 
 3. Genius is free to announce its inventions and discoveries ; 
 and the hand is free to accomplish whatever the head con- 
 ceives, not incompatible with the rights of a fellow being. 
 All distinctions of birth or rank have been abolished. All 
 citizens, whether native or adopted, are placed upon terms of 
 precise equality. All are entitled to equal rights and equal 
 protection. No union exists between church and state, and 
 perfect freedom of opinion is guaranteed to ail sects and creeds. 
 
 4. These are some of the blessings secured to our happy 
 land by our federal union. To perpetuate them, it is our 
 sacred duty to preserve it. Who shall assign limits to the 
 achievements of free minds and free hands, under the protec- 
 tion of this glorious union ? Every lover of his country must 
 shudder at the thought of the possibility of its dissolution, and 
 will be ready to adopt the patriotic sentiment: " Our federal 
 union, — it must be preserved '." 
 
 This excellent and eloquent extract is from the inaugural address of 
 James K. Polk, delivered on the 4th of March, 1845, at Washington, on 
 the occasion of his being inducted into the office of president; of the United 
 States, — " the most honorable and most responsible office on earth." All 
 our presidents, except the first, have taken the oath of office on the 4th of 
 March. Washington's inauguration took place in New- York, on the 30th 
 of April, 1789. In the year 1800, the seat of government was transferred 
 from Philadelphia, to the city of Washington, in the District of Colum- 
 bia, — a territory of ten miles square, ceded, in 1790, to the United States, 
 by Virginia and Maryland. 
 
 The oath or affirmation which our national constitution requires a citi- 
 zen, on his accession to the presidency, to take, is as follows: "I do 
 solemnly swear, (or affirm,) that I will faithfully execute the office of 
 president of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability, pre- 
 serve, protect, and defend the constitution of the United States." The 
 oath or affirmation prescribed by the constitution of the state of New- York, 
 for " members of the legislature, and all officers, executive and judicial, 
 (except such inferior officers as may by law be exempted,) to lake and 
 subscribe, before they enter on the duties of their respective offices," is, in 
 its nature, the same. "I do solemnly swear, (or affirm, as the case may 
 be,) that I will support the constitution of the United States, and the con- 
 stitution of the state of New- York, and that I will faithfully discharge the 
 duties of the office of s — , according to the best of my ability." 
 
226 SELECT PIECES 
 
 The people of the United States elect the president and vice president, 
 through presidential-electors. Each state is entitled to as many electors, as 
 it has senators and representatives in congress. The president and vice 
 president hold their offices four years The salary of the president, for the 
 term, is $100,000. The vice president, whose principal duty is, to preside 
 in the senate, receives $24,000, for the same term. " The president of 
 the United States is commander in chief of the army and navy, and of the 
 militia when in actual service. He grants reprieves and pardons ; nomi- 
 nates, and with the consent of the senate, appoints ambassadors, judges 
 of the supreme court and other officers ; and with the advice and consent 
 of the senate, makes treaties, provided two thirds of the senators present 
 concur. He fills vacancies in offices which happen during the recess of 
 the senate. He convenes congress on extraordinary occasions, receives fo- 
 reign ministers, gives information to congress of the state of public affairs ; 
 commissions all the officers of the United States, and takes care that the 
 laws be faithfully executed." 
 
 The articles of confederation which congress adopted in 1777, w T ere, in 
 many respects, diametrically opposed to the fundamental principles of the 
 Declaration of Independence. The confederation regarded each of the 
 states in the union, as sovereign, — the declaration recognizes the constitu- 
 ent and revolutionary power of the people, as the rightful source of all 
 legitimate authority. It was adopted and issued, "in the name and by the 
 authority of the good people of the colonies," — the whole people of the 
 united colonies ; and not " in the name," or " by the authority of each of 
 the separate colonies." The constitution of the United States which wa? 
 adopted in 1789, by a convention, over which, " the Father of our coun- 
 try" presided, embodies the same principles, contained in the declaration. 
 The perpetuity of our country's freedom, and the preservation of the 
 union of the states, can be secured only by adhering to the constitution. 
 It is, together with the laws passed by congress in pursuance of it, " the 
 supreme law of the land." 
 
 Every citizen who prefers liberty and union to anarchy and disunion, 
 will unhesitatingly and cheerfully say, as the president does in his inau- 
 gural address : " The constitution, plainly written as it is, the safeguard 
 of our federative compact, the offspring of concession and compromise, 
 binding together in the bonds of peace and union this great and increas- 
 ing family of free and independent states, will be the chart by which I shall 
 be directed." And all true Americans will, "in time of war, in time of 
 peace, and at all times," unitedly and exultingly exclaim : 
 
 " By our altars, pure and free, 
 By our law's deep rooted tree, 
 By the past dread memory, — 
 
 By our Washington ; 
 
 By our common parent tongue, 
 
 By our hopes, bright, buoyant, young, 
 
 By the tie of country strong, — 
 
 We will still be one." 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 227 
 
 101. Man. — George Combe. 
 
 1. Man obviously stands preeminent among sublunary 
 objects, and is distinguished by remarkable endowments, 
 above all other terrestrial beings. Nevertheless, no creature 
 presents such anomalous appearances as man. Viewed in one 
 aspect, he almost resembles a demon ; in another, he still 
 bears the impress of the image of God. Seen in his crimes, 
 his wars, and his devastations, he might be mistaken for an 
 incarnation of an evil spirit ; contemplated in his schemes of 
 charity, his discoveries in science, and his vast combinations 
 for the benefit of his race, he seems a bright intelligence from 
 heaven. 
 
 2. Man is introduced on earth, apparently helpless and un- 
 provided for, as a homeless stranger; but the soil on which 
 he treads is endowed with a thousand capabilities of produc- 
 tion, which require only to be excited by his intelligence, to 
 yield him the most ample returns. The impetuous torrent 
 rolls its waters to the main ; but, as it dashes over the mountain 
 cliff, the human hand is capable of withdrawing it from its 
 course, and rendering its powers subservient to his will. 
 
 3. Ocean extends over half the globe her liquid plain, m 
 which no path appears, and the rude winds oft lift her waters 
 to the sky ; but there the skill of man may launch the strong 
 km\ bark, spread forth the canvass to the gale, and make the 
 trackless deep, a highway through the world. 
 
 4. In such a state of things, knowledge is truly power ; and 
 it is highly important to human beings, to become acquainted 
 with the constitution and relations of every object around them, 
 that they may discover its capabilities of ministering to their 
 own advantage. Farther, where these physical energies are 
 too great to be controlled, man has received intelligence, by 
 which he may observe their course, and accommodate his con- 
 duct to their influence. 
 
 5. This capacity of adaptation is a valuable substitute, for 
 the power of regulating them by his will. He cannot arrest 
 the sun in its course, so as to avert the wintry storms, and 
 cause perpetual spring to bloom around him ; but, by the 
 proper exercise of his intelligence and corporeal energies, he 
 is able to foresee the approach of bleak skies, and rude winds 
 and to place himself in safety from their injurious effects. 
 
22S SELECT PIECES 
 
 These powers of controlling nature, and of accommodating his 
 conduct to its course, are the direct results of his rational facul- 
 ties ; and, in proportion to their cultivation, is his sway extended. 
 
 6. Man, while ignorant, is in a helpless condition. But 
 when illuminated by knowledge, he discovers in the objects 
 and occurrences around him, a scheme beautifully arranged 
 for the gratification of his whole powers, animal, moral, and 
 intellectual ; he recognizes in himself, the intelligent and ac- 
 countable subject of an all-bountiful Creator, and in joy and 
 gladness desires to study the Creator's works, to ascertain his 
 laws, and to yield to them a steady and a willing obedience. 
 
 7. Without undervaluing the pleasures of his animal nature, 
 he tastes the higher, more refined, and more enduring delights 
 of his moral and intellectual capacities ; and he then calls 
 aloud for education, as indispensable to the full enjoyment of 
 his rational powers. Our constitution and our position equally 
 imply, that the grand object of our existence is, not that we 
 should remain contented with the pleasures of mere animal 
 life, but that we should take the dignified and far more de- 
 lightful station of moral and rational occupants of this lower 
 world. 
 
 8. Man is evidently a progressive being ; and the Creator, 
 having designed a higher path for him than for the lower 
 creatures, has given him intellect to discover his own nature, 
 and that of external objects, and left him, by the exercise of 
 that intellect, to find out for himself the method of placing his 
 faculties in harmony among themselves, and in accordance 
 with the external world. Time and experience are neeessary 
 to accomplish these ends ; and history exhibits the human 
 race only in a state of progress towards the full development of 
 their powers, and the attainment of rational enjoyment. 
 
 The above is an extract from " The Constitution of Man, considered in 
 relation to External Objects," by Mr. Combe, of Edinburgh. 
 
 The doctrine of human progress is demonstrated, by the philosophy of 
 the mind, the history of the world, and the scriptures. Our intellectual 
 natures are framed for progress and for higher modes of existence. Every 
 rational being possesses the glorious capacity, to increase in knowledge, 
 virtue, and happiness, not only while on earth, but, by the favor of God, 
 through the mighty roll of endless ages. The time never will come, even 
 in the remotest period of eternity, when we shall possess perfect know- 
 ledge. He who built the heavens and the earth, is the only Being in the vast 
 universe, whose knowledge is perfect. He alone possesses an infinite capa- 
 city. Ours is finite ; and that, too, in the very manhood or full maturity 
 of our being. Nevertheless we are under the highest inducements, to 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 229 
 
 acquire all the knowledge we possibly can ; for, assuredly we shall carry 
 it with us into a future state ; where, we shall doubtless continue to add 
 to it, in the presence of Him " who sitteth upon the throne, for ever and 
 ever." 
 
 Professor Nichol, of Glasgow, in his excellent treatise on the sublime 
 science of astronomy, entitled, " Views of the Architecture of the Heavens, 
 in a series of Letters to a Lady," most eloquently observes : "In the vast 
 heavens, as well as among phenomena around us, all things are in a state 
 of change and progress, — there too — on the sky — in splendid hieroglyph- 
 ics, the truth is inscribed, that the grandest forms of present being are 
 only germs, swelling and bursting with a life to come. 
 
 Tb come I — To every creature, these are words of hope, spoken in organ 
 tone ; our hearts suggest them, and the stars repeat them, and through the 
 Infinite, aspiration wings its way, rejoicingly as an eagle following the 
 sun." 
 
 102. To Mary in Heaven. — Robert Burns. 
 
 1. Thou lingering star, with lessening ray, 
 
 That lov'st to greet the early morn, 
 Again thou usher'st in the day 
 
 My Mary from my soul was torn. 
 O, Mary! dear, departed shade! 
 
 Where is thy place of blissful rest? 
 Seest thou thy lover lowly laid ? 
 
 Hearst thou the groans that rend his breast ? 
 
 2. That sacred hour can I forget, 
 
 Can I forget the hallow'd grove, 
 Where by the winding Ayr we met, 
 
 To live one day of parting love ! 
 Eternity will not efface 
 
 Those records dear of transports past; 
 Thy image at our last embrace I 
 
 Ah I little thought we 'twas our last! 
 
 3. Ayr, gurgling, kissed his pebbled shore, 
 
 O'erhung with wild woods' thick'ning green ; 
 The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, 
 
 Twin'd amorous round the raptur'd scene. — 
 The flowers sprang wanton to be prest, 
 
 The birds sang love on every spray, 
 Till too, too soon, the glowing west 
 
 Proclaim'd the speed of winged day. 
 20 
 
230 t SELECT PIECES 
 
 4. Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes, 
 
 And fondly broods with miser care ! 
 Time but the impression deeper makes. 
 
 As streams their channels deeper wear. 
 My Mary ! dear, departed shade ! 
 
 Where is thy place of blissful rest? 
 Seest thou thy lover lowly laid? 
 
 Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ? 
 
 Burns, the great but ill-fated Scottish poet, was born in 1759, near *xyre. 
 He and Mary were engaged to be married, but before the time arrived, 
 fixed upon, for the ceremony, she died. He married a lady whom, in the 
 sentimental language of Lord Byron, he 
 
 c Would fain have loved as well : 
 
 But some unconquerable spell 
 Forbade his bleeding breast to own, 
 A kindred care, for aught but one." 
 
 
 He supposed that he could drown the recollection of his disappointment in 
 the intoxicating bowl ; but he found, by sad experience, that it served only 
 to increase his sorrows. Human suffering is unavoidable. It is one of the 
 most solemn themes of history, of the tragic drama, and of much of our 
 poetry. 
 
 " True, many a rose-bud blooming gay, 
 
 Life's opening path adorns, 
 Yet all who tread that path, will say, 
 That midst the flowers that strew the way, — 
 
 Are cares, — corroding thorns." 
 
 He who adds the woes of intemperance to what God intends we shall 
 suffer, is his own worst enemy. The deservedly celebrated poet is said to 
 have stimulated pretty highly in the evening, and to have sat on Mary's 
 grave the latter part of the night, anterior to one of the anniversaries of the 
 day on which she died ; and, when morning light appeared, to have writ- 
 ten this apostrophe with a pencil. Be that as it may, its poetic merit and 
 truthfulness entwine an unfading wreath upon the brow of Burns, and 
 over the tomb of his " lost and ever dear Mary." Their graves need no 
 other gem. It should be read in the most plaintive manner. 
 
 Mrs. Hemans, in one of her poems, from a heart of sensibility and piety, 
 kindly and sweetly exclaims : 
 
 " O ! bear your softest balm to those 
 
 Who fondly, vainly mourn the dead; 
 To them that world of peace disclose, 
 
 Where the bright soul is fled ; — 
 Where love, immortal in his native clime, 
 Shall fear no pang from fate, no blight from time." 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 231 
 
 103. The Christian's Hope. — Rev. A. Sutton. 
 
 1. Hail ! sweetest, dearest tie, that binds 
 Our glowing hearts in one ; 
 Hail ! sacred hope that tunes our minds 
 To harmony divine. 
 
 It is the hope, the blissful hope, 
 
 Which Jesus' grace has given ; 
 The hope when days and years are past. 
 
 We all shall meet in heaven ; 
 We all shall meet in heaven at last, 
 
 We all shall meet in heaven ; 
 The hope when days and years are past, 
 
 We all shall meet in heaven. 
 
 2. What though the northern wintry blast 
 Shall how T l around thy cot; 
 What though beneath an eastern sun 
 Be cast our distant lot ; 
 
 Yet still we share the blissful hope 
 Which Jesus' grace has given, &c. 
 
 3. From Burmah's shores, from Afric's strand. 
 From India's burning plain, 
 From Europe, from Columbia's land, 
 We hope to meet again. 
 
 It is the hope, the blissful hope 
 Which Jesus' grace has given, &c. 
 
 4. No lingering look, no parting sigh, 
 Our future meeting knows ; 
 There friendship beams from every eye 
 And hope immortal grows. 
 
232 SELECT PIECES 
 
 O, sacred hope ! O, blissful hope ! 
 Which Jesus' grace has given, «fcc. 
 
 In the year 1834, the Rev. Mr. Sutton, who had spent several years as 
 a missionary, near the temple of Juggernaut, in Orissa, India, visited Eng- 
 land and America, for the recovery of his health. In these countries, he 
 addressed large assemblies with great acceptance ; and on the eve of his 
 return to the field of his labor, many thousands, un'ler the impression that 
 they should " see his face no more," expressed an attachment for him, 
 which presented a striking contrast, between the affection of Christians, 
 and the cold indifference which he had witnessed among the heathen 
 This prompted him to compose the above beautiful and pathetic lines. 
 
 104. Rules for the Structure of a Sentence. — Alexander 
 
 Walker. 
 
 1. General Rules. — 1st. Observe strictly the order of cause 
 and effect ; or, let objects be designated successively, as they 
 give impressions to the organs of sense ; ideas, emotions, and 
 passions, in the order in which they are produced in the mind. 
 2d. Let the more general ideas precede the more particular. 
 3d. Let the mention of time and place precede that of actions 
 in them ; and of conditions, that of the things dependent on 
 them. 
 
 2. Particular Rules. — Let the following order be observed, 
 so far as it may be applicable in any sentence: — 1. Time; 
 2. Place ; 3. General circumstances ; 4. Person, or persons ; 
 5. Motives ; 6. The act ; 7. The result. 
 
 3. Example. — [Time.] In the year 1809, — [Place,] on the 
 banks of the Danube, — [General circumstances,] while the 
 majority of the German States were under the influence of 
 France, — [Persons,] the arch-duke Charles, with a brave 
 Austrian army, — [Motives,] excited by the resolution to lib- 
 erate their country, or die in the attempt, — [Act,] completely 
 routed a powerful host of French invaders, foiled the renown 
 of their boasted chiefs, — [Result,] and gave an example to 
 Europe, which did not fail to be imitated. 
 
 Writers are not, perhaps, aware of the existence of the ahove rules. It 
 is believed, however, that all accomplished writers and good speakers un- 
 consciously comply with them, in the structure of their sentences. The 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 233 
 
 suggestions of the author of these rules, on the subject of elocution, are 
 also entitled to consideration. He says, that " The fine arts are intimately 
 connected with language. Like it, their object is to communicate ideas 
 and emotions. So close is this alliance, that the perfect. orator exhibits to 
 a great extent, in his own person, the solemn dignity of sculpture, the 
 magic lights of painting, the sublime enthusiasm of poetry, and the indes- 
 cribable charms of music. Whence this union 1 What common princi- 
 ple pervades them all 1 Is it that they all result from the muscular motions 
 of the human body 7 Are the significant gestures of the orator, and the 
 representations of such by the painter or the sculptor, spontaneous imita- 
 tions of the forms and motions, connected with the reception of the ideas 
 to be expressed 1 Be this as it may, the most expressive productions of 
 art, afford the two following principles of contrast and harmony" 
 
 " Contrast. — When either extremity of one side is elevated, the other 
 is depressed." 
 
 " Harmony. — The upper extremity of one side and the lower of the other, 
 are elevated, and inflected, and depressed, and extended together." 
 
 There is no good reason why the principle of attitude in the fine arts, is 
 not applicable, as our author contends, alike to gesture in oratory, to sculp- 
 ture, and to the higher species of painting. 
 
 Rhetoric is the art of expressing our thoughts, by writing, or on paper, 
 correctly and elegantly; and, together with elocution, it should be taught 
 in common schools, as well as in higher institutions. The young learner 
 will find much valuable matter in " Boyd's Rhetoric," published by " Har- 
 per and Brothers." 
 
 105. Heaven's Attractions. — Dr. Nevis. 
 
 1. I have been thinking of the attractions of heaven, — what 
 there is in heaven to draw souls to it. I thought of the place. 
 Heaven has place. Christ says to his disciples : " I go to pre- 
 pare a place for you." It is a part of the consolation with 
 which he comforts them, that heaven is a place, and not a 
 mere state. What a place it must be ! Selected out of all 
 the locations of the universe — the chosen spot of space. We 
 see, even on earth, places of great beauty, and we can con- 
 ceive of spots far more delightful than any we see. But what 
 comparison can these bear to heaven, where every thing ex- 
 ceeds whatever eye has seen, or imagination conceived ? 
 
 2. Then I thought of the freedom of the place from the evils 
 of earth. Not only what is in heaven should attract us to it, 
 but what is not there. And what is not there ? There is no 
 night there. Who does not want to go where no night is? 
 No night — no natural night — none of its darkness, its damps, 
 
 20* 
 
234 SELECT PIECES 
 
 its dreariness; — and no moral night — no ignorance — no error — 
 no misery — no sin. These all belong to the night ; and there is 
 no night in heaven. And why no night there ? What shines 
 there so perpetually ? It is not any natural luminary. It is 
 a moral radiance that lights up heaven. " The glory of God 
 doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." No need 
 have they of other light. This shines every where and on all. 
 All light is sweet, but no light is like this. 
 
 3. And not only no night there, but u no more curse? 1 
 Christ redeemed them from the curse of the law, being made 
 a curse for them. And, " no more death" The last enemy 
 is overcome at last. Each as he enters the place, shouts vic- 
 toriously; "Oh! death! Oh! grave!" "Neither sorrow." 
 It is here. Oh ! yes : it is here — around, within. We hear it, 
 we see it, and at length we feel it. But it is not there. " Nor 
 crying" no expressions of grief. "Neither shall there be any 
 more pain; for the former things shall have passed v away." 
 And what becomes of tears ? Are they left to dry up ? Nay, 
 God wipes them away. And this is a sure sign they will 
 never return. What shall cause weeping, when He wipes 
 away tears? 
 
 4. I have not said that there is no sin in heaven. I have not 
 thought that necessary. If sin was there, night would be 
 there, and the curse, and death, and all the other evils, — the 
 train of sin. These are not there. Therefore, sin is not. 
 No ; " we shall be like him ; for we shall see him as he is." 
 
 5. What is there, since these are not ? Day is there — and 
 triere is the blessing that maketh rich — and there is life, immor- 
 tality — and since no sorrow,^/ — "fulness of joy — joy un- 
 speakable" — and smiles where tears were, — and there they rest, 
 not from their labors only, but from cares, and doubts, and 
 fears. And glory is there, an " exceeding and eternal weight." 
 
 6. Is that all? Where is he who used to lisp: "Father,' 
 mother," — thy child ? Passing out of your hands, passed he 
 not into those of Jesus ? Yes ; you suffered him. If any 
 other than Jesus had said : " Suffer them to come unto me," 
 you would have said, — No. Death does not quench those re- 
 cently struck sparks of intelligence. Jesus is not going to 
 lose one of those little brilliants. All shall be in his crown. 
 
 7. Perhaps thou hast a brother, or a sister there. That 
 should draw you towards heaven. Perhaps a mother — she 
 whose eye wept while it watched over thee, until at length, it 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 235 
 
 grew dim and closed. Took she not in her cold hand thine, 
 while yet her heart was warm ; and said she not, " I am going 
 to Jesus ; follow me there ?" Perhaps one nearer, dearer than 
 child, than brother, than mother — the nearest, dearest, is there. 
 Shall I say who ? Christian female, thy husband. Christian 
 father, the young mother of thy babes. He is not — She is not ; 
 for God took them. Has heaven no attractions? 
 
 8. Heaven is gaining in attractions every day. True, the 
 principal attractions continue the same. But the lesser ones 
 multiply. Some have attractions there now, which they had 
 not a few months ago. Earth is losing. How fast it has 
 been losing of late ! But earth's losses are heaven's gains. 
 They who have left so many dwelling places of earth desolate, 
 have gone to their Father's house in heaven. What if they 
 shall not return to us! We shall go to them. That is better. 
 
 9. But the principal attractions, I have not yet mentioned. 
 There is our Father — our heavenly Father, whom we have so 
 often addressed as such in prayer. He that nourished and 
 brought us up, and has borne us on, — He that has watched 
 over, us with an eye that never sleeps, and provided for us 
 with a hand that never tires ; and who can pity too. We have 
 never seen our heavenly Father. But there he reveals himself. 
 There he smiles ; and the nations of the saved, walk in the 
 light of his countenance. 
 
 10. And there is He, to depart and be with whom, Paul 
 desired, as being "far better" than to live. There is his glori- 
 fied humanity. If not having seen, we love Him, and in 
 Him, though now we see him not, yet believing ; we rejoice 
 with joy unspeakable, and full of glory I what will be the love 
 and joy, when " we shall see him as he is V There is He. 
 
 11. Heaven has attractions — many and strong, — and yet 
 who would think it? How few feel and obey the heavenly at- 
 traction ! How much more powerfully earth acts upon us! 
 How unwilling we are to leave it even for heaven ! 
 
 This exquisitely beautiful piece is well suited to the purposes of teaching 
 correct reading. To aid the learner in the proper application of emphasis, 
 many emphatic words, are italicised. If, however, an author does that, 
 with every piece, or most of the pieces in a reading book, the teacher and 
 scholar have nothing to do, but to emphasise the words thus marked. 
 Emphasis should be given only when a good reason exists for doing so ; 
 and even when the words in a piece, which an author thinks require 
 emphasis, are italicised, the teacher and pupil ought always to ascertain 
 the reason; and that is to be found, by inquiring into the matter and 
 
236 SELECT PIECES 
 
 manner of the communication. For example : let the teacher ask his pupu 
 why the word, " He," in the phrase with which the third verse is con- 
 cluded, ought to he_emphasised. The answer is, — because that word is 
 distinguished from another, understood, although not expressed. The 
 meaning is, — if any other being than Deity, should " wipe away tears," 
 they would or might return ; but nothing u shall cause weeping," when 
 God " wipes away tears." Italicised words in the Bible are inserted by 
 the translator, to convey the meaning clearly, because words corresponding 
 to them, are not to be found in the passages, as originally written in He- 
 brew — or Greek ; and. therefore, they are not always emphatic. A dis- 
 criminative emphasis, in reading the scriptures, is just as necessary, as in 
 reading any other writings. The quotation, of which the last phrase but 
 three, in the second verse, is comprised, being sublime and solemn, requires 
 the monotone. 
 
 Amidst all the joys and sorrows of this changeful life, it is good for us 
 to think of Heaven. Here we have " no abiding place." When we look 
 back through by-gone years, to the homes of our youth, and see how 
 quickly the intervening period has passed away ; and consider, how soon 
 the rapid flow of time will end the journey of our lives, we look for another 
 home, — a home in Heaven, the attractions of which as much exceed those 
 of earth, as the sun outshines the stars. In the elegant language of " The 
 Christian Comforter," written by the Rev. Henry Bacon, " many beau- 
 tiful forms flit before us, as we journey through life, entrancing our senses ; 
 there are in the earth, and in the visions of fancy, many images of exqui- 
 site loveliness, but the spiritual in heaven eclipses them all." 
 
 " Dreams cannot picture a world so fair, — 
 Sorrow and death may not enter there ; 
 Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom, 
 'Tis beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb." 
 
 106. Eloquent Speech against Warren Hastings. — 
 Sheridan. 
 
 1. When we hear the description of the paroxysm, fever, 
 and delirium, into which despair had thrown the natives, when 
 on the banks of the polluted Ganges, panting for death, they 
 tore more widely open the lips of their gaping wounds, to 
 accelerate their dissolution ; and while their blood was issuing, 
 presented their ghastly eyes to Heaven, breathing their last 
 and fervent prayer, that the dry earth might not be suffered to 
 drink their blood ; but that it might rise up to the throne of 
 God, and rouse the eternal Providence to avenge the wrongs 
 of their country. 
 
 2. What motive could have such influence in their bosom? 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 237 
 
 What motive ! That which nature, the common parent, plants 
 in the bosom of man ; and which, though it may be less 
 active in the Indian than in the Englishman, is still congen- 
 ial with, and makes part of, his being ; that feeling which tells 
 him that man was never made to be the property of man ; but 
 that when, through pride and insolence of power, one human 
 creature dares to tyrannize over another, it is a power usurped, 
 and resistance is a duty ; that feeling which tells him that all 
 power is delegated for the good, not for the injury of the peo- 
 ple, and that when it is converted from the original purpose, 
 the compact is broken, and 'the right is to be resumed ; that 
 principle which tells him, that resistance to power usurped, is 
 not merely a^duty which he owes to himself and to his neigh- 
 bor, but a duty which he owes to his God, in asserting and 
 maintaining the rank which he gave him in the creation ! to 
 that common God, who, where he gives the form of man, 
 whatever may be the complexion, gives also the feelings and 
 the rights of man ; — that principle, which neither the rude- 
 ness of ignorance can stifle, nor the enervation of refinement 
 extinguish ! — that principle which makes it base for a man to 
 suffer when he ought to act, which, tending to preserve to the 
 species the original designations of providence, spurns at the 
 arrogant distinctions of man, and vindicates the independent 
 quality of his race. 
 
 3. The majesty of Justice, in the eyes of Mr. Hastings, is a 
 being of terrific horror — a. dreadful idol, placed in the gloom 
 of graves, accessible only to cringing supplication, and which 
 must be approached with offerings, and worshipped by sacri* 
 fee. The majesty of Mr. Hastings is a being whose decrees 
 are written with blood, and whose oracles are at once secure 
 and terrible. From such an idol I turn mine eyes with hor- 
 ror — I turn them here to this dignified and high tribunal, 
 where the majesty of justice really sits enthroned. Here I 
 perceive the majesty of justice in her proper robes of truth and 
 mercy, chaste and simple, accessible and patient, awful with- 
 out severity, inquisitive without meanness. I see her enthroned 
 and sitting in judgment on a great and momentous cause, 
 in which the happiness of millions is involved. 
 
 4. Pardon me, my lords, if I presume to say, that in the 
 decision of this great cause, you are to be envied as well as 
 venerated. You possess the highest distinction of the human 
 character ; for when you render your ultimate voice on this 
 
238 SELECT PIECES 
 
 cause, illustrating the dignity of the ancestors from whom 
 you sprang, justifying the solemn asseveration which you make, 
 vindicating the people of whom you are a part, and manifest- 
 ing the intelligence of the times in which you live, you will 
 do such an act of mercy, and blessing to man, as no men but 
 yourselves are able to grant. 
 
 " Warren Hastings was born December 6th, 1732. The family to 
 which he belonged, had become reduced in circumstances ; and Warren, an 
 orphan from the tenderest age, received a limited education, through the 
 kindness of an uncle. In 1750, in his eighteenth year, he sailed for Cal- 
 cutta, as a clerk in the office of the secretary of the East India Company. 
 In 1761, he became a member of the company's council there. In 1764, 
 he returned to England, and remained four years. Laboring under pecu- 
 niary embarrassments, he embarked again for India, as a member of the 
 council at Madras. In 1773 he was appointed the first Governor General 
 of India, which post he held until 1785, when he returned to England in 
 comparative affluence. Bold, ardent, politic, and unprincipled, he had lost 
 no opportunity of advancing the interests of the company, and extending 
 and strengthening British power in the east. Soon after his return, charges 
 were preferred against him, and he was impeached by the House of Com- 
 mons, on general charges, affecting his administration, as Governor Gen- 
 eral of India. His trial commenced on the 13th of February, 1788, and 
 continued nearly eight years. In this trial were engaged many of the 
 master spirits of England in the day of her proudest men, — Burke, Fox, 
 Sheridan, and others ; and during its progress was displayed some of the 
 most commanding eloquence of which the English forum can boast. 
 Hastings, after this tedious examination, was acquitted, and he retired to 
 Daylesford, in Worcestershire, — the family estate which he had repur- 
 chased, where he lived in content through a peaceful and honored old age. 
 He died on the 22d day of August, 1818, in his 86th year. From the 
 obloquy and panegyric that have been heaped upon him, it is difficult to 
 deduce his true character. None will deny that he was a great man. 
 Few will claim that he was a good man." 
 
 For the foregoing note, the author is indebted to a worthy gentleman of 
 the legal profession, with whom the educational reformer and philanthro- 
 pist are not lost in the lawyer, A. B. Olmstead, Esq., of Saratoga Springs. 
 
 We are informed that " public curiosity was scarcely ever so strongly 
 interested, as on the day when Mr. Sheridan was to speak on the Begum 
 charge on the impeachment of Mr. Hastings. The avenues leading to the 
 hall were filled with persons of the first distinction, many of them peer- 
 esses in full dress, who waited in the open air, for upwards of an hour and 
 a half, before the gates were opened, when the crowd pressed so eagerly, 
 forward, that many persons had nearly perished. No extract can do jus- 
 tice to this speech, — the above is a partial specimen of its power." 
 
 " On the conclusion of Mr. Sheridan's speech, the whole assembly 
 members, peers, and strangers, involuntarily joined in a tumult of applause, 
 and adopted a mode of expressing their approbation, new and irregular in 
 that house, by loudly and repeatedly clapping their hands. A motion was 
 immediately made and carried for an adjournment, that the members who 
 were in a state of delirous insensibility from the talismanic influence of 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 239 
 
 such powerful eloquence, might have time to collect their scattered senses 
 for the exercise of a sober judgment. This motion was made by Mr. Pitt, 
 who declared that this speech ' surpassed all the eloquence of ancient and 
 modern times, and possesses every thing that genius or art could furnish, to 
 agitate and control the human mind.' " 
 
 107. Panegyric on Sheridan's Eloquence. — Burke. 
 
 1. He has this day surprised the thousands who hung with 
 rapture on his accents, by such an array of talents, such an 
 exhibition of capacity, such a display of powers, as are unpar- 
 alleled in the annals of oratory ! a display that reflects the 
 highest honor upon himself, lustre upon letters, renown upon 
 parliament, glory upon the country. 
 
 2. Of all species of rhetoric, of every kind of eloquence that 
 has been witnessed or recorded, either in ancient or modern 
 times ; whatever the acuteness of the bar, the dignity of the 
 senate, the solidity of the judgment seat, and the sacred moral- 
 ity of the pulpit, have hitherto furnished, nothing has surpass- 
 ed, nothing has equalled, what we have this day heard in 
 Westminster hall. 
 
 3. No holy seer of religion, no sage, no statesman, no orator, 
 no man of any literary description whatever, has come up, in 
 the one instance, to the pure sentiments of morality ; or, in the 
 other, to that variety of knowledge, force of imagination, pro- 
 priety and vivacity of allusion, beauty and elegance of diction, 
 strength and copiousness of style, pathos and sublimity of 
 conception, to which we have this day listened with ardor and 
 admiration. From poetry up to eloquence, there is not a spe- 
 cies of composition of which a complete and perfect specimen 
 might not, from that single speech, be culled and collected. 
 
 This " Panegyric " is nearly as eloquent as the speech, in praise of 
 which it was made. Notwithstanding the high encomiums of Messrs. 
 Pitt and Burke, and which were doubtless merited, Mr. Sheridan's first 
 effort, to make a speech, was an entire failure ; and his best friends ad- 
 vised him never to appear before an audience, in the capacity of a speaker, 
 again. But he said " Oratory is in me, and it shall come out;" and, out 
 it did come, as clearly and abundantly appears, from the history of his 
 brilliant career, as an orator. 
 
240 SELECT PIECES 
 
 108. New Missionary Hymn. — S. F Smith. 
 
 1. Yes, my native land, I love thee, — 
 
 All thy scenes, I love them well, 
 Friends, connexions, happy country ! 
 
 Can I bid you all farewell ? 
 Can I leave you — 
 Far in heathen lands to dwell ? 
 
 2. Home ! thy joys are passing lovely, — 
 
 Joys no stranger-heart can tell ! 
 Happy home! indeed I love thee! 
 
 Can I, can I say, Farewell? 
 Can I leave thee — 
 Far in heathen lands to dwell ? 
 
 8. Scenes of sacred peace and pleasure, 
 Holy days and sabbath bell, 
 Richest, brightest, sweetest treasure ! 
 Can I say a last farewell ? 
 Can I leave you — 
 Far in heathen lands to dwell ? 
 
 4. Yes ! I hasten from you gladly. 
 
 From the scenes I loved so well ; 
 Far away, ye billows, bear me j 
 
 Lovely, native land, farewell ! 
 Pleased I leave thee — 
 Far in heathen lands to dwell. 
 
 5. In the deserts let me labor, 
 
 On the mountains let me tell, 
 How He died— -the olessed Savior, 
 
 To redeem a world from hell ! 
 Let me hasten, 
 Far in heathen lands to dwell. 
 
 6. Bear me on, thou restless ocean ; 
 
 Let the winds the canvass swell, — 
 Heaves my heart with warm emotion 
 
 While I go far hence to dwell j 
 Glad I bid thee, 
 Native land- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 241 
 
 109. David's Confidence in God's Grace. 
 
 1. The Lord is my shepherd ; I shall not want. He maketh 
 me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the 
 still waters. He restoreth my soul ; he leadeth me in the 
 paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I 
 walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear 
 no evil ; for thou art with me ; thy rod and thy staff, they* 
 comfort me. 
 
 2. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine 
 enemies ; thou anointest my head w 7 ith oil ; my cup runneth 
 over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the 
 days of my life ; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for 
 ever. — Psalm xxiii. 
 
 In Psalm xl, 4th verse, David says : " Blessed is the man that maketh 
 t\e Lord his trust." 
 
 ' ; One glance at the stars," said Sir Walter Scott, " is enough to banish 
 irom the mind, all low conceptions of the Deity." Do we not read amid 
 " the poetry of heaven," the hymn of trust 1 President Mahan, of the 
 Oberlin Institute, most eloquently observes: "Whatever may happen in 
 the universe, nought can disturb the soul's deep rest in God. It^is our 
 privilege, even now, to have our home in the skies. Through the enlight- 
 ening Spirit, we may he led up those everlasting hills, plant our feet on 
 those delectable mountains, and stand in ecstasy, amid the revelations of 
 eternity, while we sojourn in the vales of our native earth." 
 
 110. On the Immortality of the Soul. — Cicero. 
 
 1. No man, Scipio, shall ever persuade me, that the excel- 
 lent persons whom I have known, but whom I need not men- 
 tion, would have performed so many exploits that were to de- 
 scend to posterity, had they not in their own minds been con- 
 vinced, that they had an interest in posterity, and that they 
 were to superintend its actions. Do you imagine that I, for I 
 must be indulged in a little of an old man's boasting, w r ould 
 have undertaken so many toils, by day and by night, at home 
 and abroad, did I think that the period of my glory w r as to be 
 the same with that of my life ? Would it not have been wiser 
 in me to have passed my days in ease and retirement, with- 
 out stir, and without struggle ? 
 21 
 
242 SELECT PIECES 
 
 2. But, I know not how, my soaring soul always looked 
 upon posterity in such a light, as if she was not to enjoy real 
 life, till she had left the body. And, indeed, were not our 
 souls immortal, never would it happen, that the souls of the 
 best of men, should always be the most passionate after an im- 
 mortality of glory. You see, that the wiser a man is, he goes 
 with a greater calmness out of life ; and the more stupid he is, 
 he is the more disturbed by death. 
 
 3. Are you not, then, sensible that the mind, which has the 
 most comprehensive and the most penetrating view, perceives 
 that it is going to a better place, which the dull eye of more 
 blunted reason cannot discern? For my own part, I am 
 transported with the hope -of again seeing our fathers, whom, 
 in life, I honored and. loved. And I pant to meet not only 
 with those with whom I have been acquainted in life ; but 
 with those of whom 1 have heard, of whom I have read, and 
 of whom I myself have written. 
 
 4. It would be, indeed, a masterly power that should hinder 
 my journey to them, even though it should again grind me 
 into youth. Nay, should a god give me the boon of going at 
 this my age, into second childhood, and of puling in the cra- 
 dle, ^et would I reject it ; for I have no notion of beginning 
 anew the race I have finished, or of being set back to the 
 starting post, just as I have run round the course. Can any 
 man think that the pleasures overbalance the toils of living ? 
 But, supposing they do ; yet still pleasures will cloy, and they 
 must end. And yet I have no mind to complain, as many 
 learned men have done, of life ; neither do I repent that I 
 have lived, because I have lived so as to answer life's purposes. 
 
 5. And I leave life, not as I would do my home, but as I 
 would an inn; for nature gave it to us, not as our dwelling, 
 but our lodging place. O, glorious day ! when I shall arrive 
 at that divine senate and society of departed spirits, when I 
 shall bid adieu to the bustle and pollution of this world! 
 Then I will repair, not only to the great men to whom I have 
 alluded, but to my Cato, to my son, — a man never exceeded 
 by any, either in the goodness of his heart, or the excellency of 
 his morals. 
 
 6. His body I burnt ; these old hands performed for him the 
 duties which he ought to have paid to me. Yet did not his 
 soul forsake me ! No ; it is still looking back upon his father, 
 and assuredly inhabits those mansions, to which he knew I 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 243 
 
 would follow him. If I seem to bear my loss with fortitude, 
 it is not because I am indifferent about it, but because I com- 
 fort myself with thoughts, that we shall not long be separated 
 from one another. 
 
 7. Scipio, it is by these means, that old age is lightsome to 
 me ; nay, it is so far from being a trouble, that it is a pleasure 
 to me. As to my opinion, that the souls of men are immortal ; 
 if it is a mistake, it is a mistake of the most pleasing nature ; 
 and never while I breathe, shall I be willing to be cured of an 
 imposition that gives me so much delight. But if, as some 
 minute philosophers hold, all consciousness is at an end with 
 life, I shall not be afraid of being laughed at by the dead phi- 
 losophers. 
 
 8. But, suppossing we are not to be immortal, yet a man 
 ought to wish to leave the world at a proper time. For nature, 
 as she prescribes bounds to everything else, has likewise pre- 
 scribed a period for our living. Now, old age, like the wind- 
 ing up of a play, winds up our life, the tiresomeness of which 
 we ought to avoid, especially if we are satiated with living. 
 
 The belief in the immortality of the soul is of great antiquity. It ob- 
 tained very generally among mankind, in the earliest ages of the world. 
 Cicero was not the first promulgator of the doctrine. Socrates, who lived 
 400 years before his day. said : " I am in good hope, that there is some- 
 thing remaining for those that are dead ; and that, as hath been said of 
 old, it is much better for good than for bad men." Plato, Aristotle, and 
 Plutarch, represent it as an opinion " So old, that no man knows when it 
 began." Cicero himself remarks, that " all the ancients believed in the 
 immortality of the soul, who were the more worthy of credit, and the more 
 likely to know the truth, the nearer they approached to the first rise of 
 man, and to their divine original." Some of the ancients used at their 
 funerals, the rosemary, — an evergreen which they put up over the grave, 
 as an emblem of the soul's immortality. They had not those full as- 
 surances with which we are furnished, by the christian revelation ; but 
 many of them maintained the doctrine with arguments, that are abun- 
 dantly sufficient, to preponderate the scale in its favor. Socrates, Plato, 
 and Cicero, appear to have been almost certain of its truth. When Crito 
 inquired of Socrates, how he would be buried, — he answered :* " Just as 
 you please, if you can but catch me, and if I do not give you the slip. Let 
 it not be said at my funeral, Socrates is laid out, — Socrates is interred. 
 You should say that my body is dead. That you may inter in the manner 
 that's most conformable to our laws and customs." Our friend, our 
 parent, our child, our companion is not dead, although the forms of popu- 
 lar speech thus announce their exit. They are " not lost but gone before." 
 The above extract is from " Cicero's Treatise, concerning the moral duties 
 of mankind, a future state, and the means of making old age happy." All 
 who may read it, will say of Cicero, as Cato did of Plato: " Thou rea- 
 eonest well." The last phrase in the first and second lines of the sixth 
 
244 SELECT PIECES 
 
 verse, is part of the inscriptions that were put upon monuments which 
 parents erected for their children. How deeply interesting are the views 
 which he took of tmr destiny that awaited him; and with what eloquence 
 does he express them. The anticipation of a re-union with good men in 
 eternity, inspired the great Roman orator with delight, and even transport. 
 Nothing could reconcile him, nor can any thing reconcile us, to the loss 
 of the society of relatives and friends, but the confident hope of meeting 
 and recognizing again, in a future state " those whom we have loved and 
 lost; and whom we shall still love and never lose them again." It is not 
 all of life to live. If it were, — " what man would not wish, he had never 
 been born 1" 
 
 " If that high world which lies beyond 
 Our own, surviving love endears; 
 If there the cherished heart be fond, 
 The eye the same, except in tears ; 
 How welcome those untrodden spheres ! 
 How sweet this very hour to die ! — 
 To soar from earth, and find all fears 
 Lost in thy light — eternity." 
 
 111. Of Elocution. — Thelwal. 
 
 1. Elocution is the art or the act of so delivering our own 
 thoughts and sentiments, or the thoughts and sentiments of 
 others, as not only to convey to those around us, with precision, 
 force, and harmony, the full purport and meaning of the words 
 and sentences in which these thoughts are clothed ; but also to 
 excite and to impress upon their minds, the feelings, the ima- 
 ginations, and the passions by which those thoughts are dictated, 
 or with which they should naturally be accompanied. 
 
 2. Elocution, therefore, in its more ample and liberal signi- 
 fication, is not confined to the mere exercise of the organs of 
 speech. It embraces the whole theory and practice of the 
 exterior demonstration of the inward workings of the mind. 
 
 3. To. concentrate what has been said by an allegorical 
 recapitulation ; eloquence may be considered as the soul, or 
 animated principle of discourse ; and is dependent on intellec- 
 tual energy, and intellectual attainments. Elocution is the 
 embodying form, or representative power ; dependent on exte- 
 rior accomplishments, and on the cultivation of the organs. 
 Oratory is the complicated and vital existence, resulting from 
 the perfect harmony and combination of eloquence and elo- 
 cution. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 245 
 
 4. The vital existence, however, in its full perfection, is one 
 of the choicest rarities of nature. The high and splendid 
 accomplishments of oratory, even in the most favored age, and 
 the most favored countries, have been attained by few ; and 
 many are the ages, and many are the countries, in which these 
 accomplishments have never once appeared. Generations 
 have succeeded to generations, and centuries have rolled after 
 centuries, during which, the intellectual desert has not exhib- 
 ited even one solitary specimen of the stately growth, and flour- 
 ishing expansion of oratorical genius. 
 
 5. The rarity of this occurrence is, undoubtedly, in part, to 
 be accounted for, from the difficulty of the attainment. The 
 palm of oratorical perfection is only to be grasped — it is, in 
 reality, only to be desired^ by aspiring souls, and intellects of 
 unusual energy. 
 
 6. It requires a persevering toil which few would be con- 
 tented to encounter ; a decisive intrepidity of character, and 
 an untameableness of mental ambition, which very, very few 
 can be expected to possess. It requires, also, conspicuous 
 opportunities for cultivation and display, to which few can 
 have the fortune to be born, and which fewer still will have 
 the hardihood to endeavor to create. 
 
 In ancient times, elocution implied the matter of a discourse ; but since 
 the days of Sheridan and Walker, it has been generally and almost univer- 
 sally understood to mean, the manrver of reading and speaking, — the tongue 
 and not the pen No modern author, excepting John duincy Adams, has, 
 to my knowledge, presented the subject in any other light. He maintains 
 in his lectures on rhetoric and oratory, that elocution now as formerly, im- 
 plies the diction, and not the delivery. 
 
 In Greece and Rome, teachers of oratory were called rhetoricians; They 
 are now called elocutionists. In the days of Gluintilian, Demosthenes, 
 and Cicero, practitioners of law were called actors. That appellation is 
 now given exclusively to theatrical performers ; and those who devote 
 themselves to the legal profession, are designated by the various appella- 
 tions of lawyers, barristers, attorneys, counsellors, &c. The writer greatly 
 admires Mr. Adams's distinguished abilities ; but notwithstanding the 
 great deference which he has for the opinions of that great and good man, 
 he cannot help thinking, that we might with as much propriety, call gen- 
 tlemen of the bar of our own times, actors, as to say that elocution, now, 
 as anciently, means the matter, and not the manner. Aside from this ob- 
 jection, his lectures are very excellent, — superior, in some respects, to 
 those of Dr. Blair. In 1827, Dr. Rush's work, referred to in the intro- 
 ductory part of this book, appeared, — a treatise that enters more largely 
 into the principles, which pertain to the philosophy of the voice, than any 
 other. Anterior to that publication, elocution was regarded only as an 
 art. He erected its materials into a science. He classified and divided 
 2i* 
 
246 SELECT PIECES 
 
 the elementary sounds of the English language, — making however but 
 thirty-five. The author of this book believes there are forty, and only 
 forty sounds, represented by the twenty-six letters of our alphabet, as 
 single letters, or combinations of two letters. 
 
 In the year J 834, the author of this " Practical Elocution," commenced 
 teaching phonology, reading, and oratory, in the state of New- York ; and 
 during the many years that have since elapsed, he has given hundreds of 
 lectures and lessons, and had thousands of hearers and pupils. And he 
 thinks that dividing letters into vowels and consonants, mutes and semi- 
 vowels, diphthongs, diagraphs, triphthongs, labials, dentals, palatals, &c. as 
 is done in some spelling books, works on " Orthography," and " Gram- 
 mars," affords the pupil no valuable knowledge. Such divisions and sub- 
 divisions, produce an effect upon the mind, similar to that occasioned by 
 the contusion of tongues at Babel. Let the pupil bend all the energies of 
 his voice, to a clear, distinct, and full developement of the forty elements, 
 as the only correct basis of all good reading and speaking. 
 
 112. Divinely Inspired Speakers; their Elocution.— .Rev. 
 
 David Marks. 
 
 1. One of the remarkable characteristics of the Bible, is, its 
 silence in relation to small or unimportant things. No matter 
 how warmly men were attached to the trifles of those ages in 
 which the scriptures were written, the sacred pages scarcely 
 allude to them. And as we are accustomed to appeal to the 
 " law and testimony" for authority in ail important religious 
 concerns, it may be well to reflect, that the Holy Spirit, who 
 moved the sacred writers to record for us only the things of 
 importance, has not passed the subject of elocution in silence. 
 So far from this, several important specimens of the manner in 
 which the prophets, apostles, and the blessed Savior spoke to 
 men, suited to different circumstances and occasions, are given 
 for our instruction and improvement. How then can a minister 
 of the gospel excuse himself, in neglecting to search the 
 scriptures for the purpose of understanding and reducing to 
 practice, the unerring principles which the great God has 
 taught, with regard to the manner of delivering his truth? 
 
 2. Moses, though free from the vanity of ostentation, consid- 
 ered the fact of his being "slow of speech" a sufficient fault to 
 exclude him from the office of a public speaker: and, though 
 the Lord reproved his unbelief in supposing that He who sent 
 him, would not either remove or counterbalance this defect, 
 yet He seems to have approved of Moses' opinion, that slow- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 247 
 
 ness of speech was a serious fault, by saying to him : " Aaron, 
 I know can speak well, and he shall be thy spokesman, and he 
 shall be to thee instead of a mouth" The Holy Ghost on a 
 certain occasion, also gave particular directions to Isaiah, in 
 relation to the compass or fulness of his voice, saying, " Cry 
 aloud, spare not, lift up thy voice like a trumpet" Again He 
 said to Ezekiel : " Cry and howl, smite with thy hand, and 
 stamp with thy foot." 
 
 3. When David was pressed down with sorrow, instead of 
 praying to God, to attend to his supplications, he besought 
 him to hear the VOICE of his supplications ; as though the 
 pressure of grief had so changed the character of his tones, 
 that their peculiar and plaintive expressions, would tell more 
 of the fervency of his petitions, than his language possibly 
 could. The prophet Jeremiah, while speaking of the invasion 
 of Egypt by the Chaldeans, said : " The voice of Egypt shall 
 go forth like a serpent ;" by which we are taught, that the guilt 
 and confusion of Egypt were such, that they would not have 
 the boldness to use pure speech, but would make a kind of 
 muttering, which would approach the hissing of a serpent. 
 This teaches us, that if one would successfully persuade men, 
 he should not mumble his words, as though the cause was 
 wrapped up in confusion, but he should speak plainly. 
 
 4. Again, the prophet speaks of the voice of those Jews, 
 who escaped from Babylonian captivity, as though, when they 
 gave thanks to God, their animation and joy were exhibited 
 in some peculiar tones of speech. Among several very severe 
 complaints, which God made against Israel in the 23d chapter 
 of Ezekiel, one was, that " The voice of a multitude at ease 
 was in her." If this means an indifferent, inanimated, formal 
 manner, then God accounted the declaration of his truth in 
 this style, a crime, and reproves it in the same sentence that 
 he does idolatry. In the book of Daniel, the peculiar tones of 
 prince Darius, when he came to the lion's den, are noticed in 
 this passage : " And when he came to the den, he cried with 
 a lamentable voice." Jonah said he would " sacrifice with a 
 voice of thanksgiving." 
 
 5. From these and many other passages, it is evident that 
 the inspired writers gave particular attention, to the variations 
 in the tones of the human voice, and distinctly noticed such as 
 conveyed ideas of innocence and guilt, joy and sorrow, zeal 
 and stupidity, thankfulness and ingratitude. Nor is the New 
 
248 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Testament silent with regard to the manner in which He ad- 
 dressed men, " who spake as never man spake? 1 In a number 
 of instances. itTs written of Him, that He " lifted up his 
 voice and cried aloud. 1 ' And when He met vast multitudes in 
 a mountain, it is said that "He opened his mouth and taught 
 them." Though this expression has been ridiculed by un- 
 learned infidels, it is perfectly understood and approved, by the 
 critical elocutionist. 
 
 6. The eloquent Whitfield, in a sermon which he preached 
 in this country, remarked that there had lately been a great 
 stir in one of the chapels of England, under the preaching of 
 a certain bishop ; but, said he, it was not on account of the 
 power of his preaching, but because he spoke so low, that the 
 people could not hear what he said j and the stir was a move- 
 ment towards the pulpit, in order to understand what was 
 spoken. Said Whitfield, " He did not open his mouth" 
 
 7. Nothing is more certain, than that the effect of an address 
 depends generally as much upon the manner as upon the 
 matter. However good the ideas may be, unless the manner 
 of presenting them is true to nature, judicious and unaffected, 
 it is not in the power of human nature, to avoid feeling such a 
 suspicion of deception, as will prevent the natural response of 
 the heart. A little reflection must convince every intelligent 
 person, that a continued loud tone of voice was not the elocu- 
 tion of the inspired ancients; for such a method of speaking 
 is contrary to nature, ruinous to health, and generally painful 
 to the hearers, having a tendency to awaken such sympathies 
 on the one hand, or disgust on the other, as must divert the 
 attention from the design of the discourse. Those who adopt 
 a low, monotonous, formal method of delivery, are equally 
 guilty of disregarding the instructions of nature and the Bible. 
 
 8. Hence it is highly necessary that public speakers, who 
 would be useful and successful in persuading men, should un- 
 derstand the management of the human voice, and make elocu- 
 tion as much a subject of study, as any other science. The idea 
 *hat the Holy Ghost will teach spiritual ministers how to 
 manage their voices, has as little foundation in truth, us has 
 the idea that he will teach us any thing else, in order to save 
 us the drudgery of study. 
 
 9. When Paul told the Corinthians that he came not to 
 them with excellency of speech, declaring unto them the 
 counsel of God, he does not mean that he did not address them 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 249 
 
 with "words fitly spoken? nor with truly excellent speech; 
 but simply, that he did not move upon their passions and blind 
 their eyes, by those figures and arts of oratory, which, among 
 the Greeks and Romans, often pleased the imagination, while 
 the judgment was uninformed, and the heart untouched. If, 
 by eloquence, is meant the art of persuading, it is certainly 
 an art which every minister of the gospel should cultivate in 
 the best possible manner. 
 
 10. The Greeks and Romans paid great attention to this 
 branch of science, and this merely to obtain the glory of post- 
 humous fame. Demosthenes is said to have paid his teacher 
 the sum of $3000 just for instruction in the art of elocution. 
 And to overcome his impediments, cultivate his voice, and 
 strengthen his powers of articulation, he would speak with 
 pebbles in his mouth, on a high key, in solitary places, amid 
 the roaring of the waves of the sea. 
 
 11. It is perfectly astonishing to the careful observer, to 
 notice the extent of improvement of which our capabilities are 
 susceptible. All our faculties and powers, both of body and 
 mind, may be increased by cultivation, almost beyond limits. 
 For example, a preacher who has so feeble a voice, that he 
 can never make a large assembly understand him, and can 
 hardly preach three sermons in a week, may, by suitable and 
 persevering practice, so cultivate his powers of speech, as to 
 create a voice almost entirely new, by which he would be 
 able to preach daily with perfect ease. This may seem in- 
 credible, but it has been practically proved in numerous 
 instances. 
 
 Jesus Christ, in person and by miracle, expressly called one, and hit 
 one, in that manner, to preach the gospel to the Gentiles. St. Paul pos- 
 sessed a powerful and highly cultivated mind ; but our Savior chose the 
 other primitive teachers of Christianity, from the uneducated and humble 
 class, thus making manifest to the world, that his work was " not of man, 
 but of God." Ministers of the present day ought to be educated, — wet 
 educated. The great object of their office, being to persuade men, they 
 greatly need a knowledge of elocution. When, however, circumstances 
 beyond a man's control, prevent the acquisition of educational attain- 
 ments ; and, being truly pious, " apt to teach," and " moved by the Holy 
 Ghost;" he believes that God has committed to him "a dispensation of 
 the gospel ;" and, consequently, that he can be more useful and happy as 
 a christian minister, than in any other capacity ; it may be his duty to as- 
 sume the responsibilities of that high and holy vocation, notwithstanding 
 his want of an accomplished education. Some of the most eloquent pulpit 
 orators, that any age or country ever produced, have not possessed a col- 
 legiate education. Charles G. Finney, Jedediah Burchard, and C. C. 
 
250 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Burr, have not such an education ; nevertheless, their oratorical powers 
 are equal, if not superior to those of any other clergymen. Edwin Forrest, 
 the fame of whose histrionic talents and moral excellence^ is not confined 
 to America; hut, passing the bounds of the ocean, has made his name fa- 
 miliar to the public ear in Europe, was not educated within the walls of a 
 college. Benjamin Franklin and George Washington had only a com- 
 mon school education. The writer of the above excellent article, Elder 
 David Marks, was born at Shendaken, in Ulster county, N. Y. November 
 4th, 1805. In early life, like Samuel, he heard the voice of God, calling 
 him into the ministry ; and, although he was so young, that he was called 
 " the boy preacher," and possessing only those limited attainments, that 
 were to be acquired in common schools, which at that time, were very im- 
 perfectly taught, he was 
 
 " Set 
 
 Apart to the great work of saving men ; 
 
 Instructed fully in the will divine ; 
 
 Supplied with grace in store as need might ask ; 
 
 And with the stamp and signature of heaven, 
 
 Truth, mercy, patience, holiness, and love, 
 
 Accredited." g 
 
 113. Patience, under Provocations, our Interest, as 
 well as Duty. — Dr. Blair. 
 
 1. The wide circle of human society, is diversified by an 
 endless variety of characters, dispositions, and passions. Uni- 
 formity is, in no respect, the genius of the world. Every man 
 is marked by some peculiarity, which distinguishes him from 
 another; and no where can two individuals be found, who 
 are exactly, in all respects, alike. Where so much diversity 
 obtains, it cannot but happen, that in the intercourse which 
 men are obliged to maintain, their tempers will often be ill 
 adjusted to that intercourse ; will jar, and interfere with each 
 other. 
 
 2. Hence, in every station, the highest as well as the low- 
 est, and in every condition of life, public, private, and domestic, 
 occasions of irritation frequently arise. We are provoked, 
 sometimes, by the folly and levity of those with whom we 
 are connected ; sometimes by their indifference or neglect, 
 by the incivility of a friend, the haughtiness of a superior, or 
 the insolent behavior of one in a lower station. Hardly a 
 day passes, without somewhat or other occurring, which serves 
 to ruffle the man of impatient spirit. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 251 
 
 3. Of course, such a man lives in a continual storm. He 
 knows not what it is to enjoy a train of good humor. Ser- 
 vants, neighbors, friends, spouse, and children, ail, through 
 the unrestrained violence of his temper, become sources of dis- 
 turbance and vexation to him. In vain is affluence ; in vain 
 are health and prosperity. The least trifle is sufficient to dis- 
 compose his mind, and poison his pleasures. His very amuse- 
 ments are mixed with turbulence and passion. 
 
 4. I would beseech this man to consider of what small 
 moment the provocations which he receives, or at least ima- 
 gines himself to receive, are really in themselves ; but of what 
 great moment he makes them, by suffering them to deprive 
 him of the possession of himself. I would beseech him to 
 consider, how many hours of happiness he throws away, which 
 a little more patience would allow him to enjoy; and how 
 much he puts it in the power of the most insignificant persons 
 to render him miserable. " But who can expect," we hear 
 him exclaim, " that he is to possess the insensibility of a stone ? 
 How is it possible for human nature to endure so many 
 repeated provocations, or to bear calmly with so unreasonable 
 behavior ?" 
 
 5. My brother! if thou canst bear with no instances of unrea- 
 sonable behavior, withdraw thyself from the world. Thou art 
 no longer fit to live in it. Leave tbe intercourse of men. Re- 
 treat to the mountain, and the desert; or shut thyself up in 
 a cell. For here, in the midst of society, "offences must 
 come." We might as well expect, when we behold a calm 
 atmosphere and a clear sky, that no clouds were ever to rise, 
 and no winds to blow, as that our life were long to proceed, 
 without receiving provocations from human frailty: 
 
 6. The careless and the imprudent, the giddy and the fickle, 
 the ungrateful and the interested, every where meet us. They 
 are the briers and thorns with which the path of human 
 life is beset. He only, who can hold his course among them 
 with patience and equanimity, he who is prepared to bear 
 what he must expect to happen, is worthy the name of a man. 
 
 7. If we preserved ourselves composed but for a moment, 
 we should perceive the insignificancy of most of those provo- 
 cations which we magnify so highly. When a few suns 
 more have rolled over our heads, the storm will, of itself, have 
 subsided ; the cause of our present impatience and disturbance, 
 will be utterly forgotten. Can we not, then, anticipate this 
 
$52 -SELECT PIECES 
 
 hour of calmness to ourselves ; and begin to enjoy the peace 
 which it will certainly bring? 
 
 8. If others have behaved improperly, let us leave them to 
 their own folly, without becoming the victim of their caprice, 
 and punishing ourselves on their account. Patience, in this 
 exercise of it, cannot be too much studied by all who wish 
 their life to flow in a smooth stream. It is the reason of a man, 
 in opposition to the passion of a child. It is the enjoyment of 
 peace, in opposition to uproar and confusion. 
 
 Dr. Hugh Blair, from one of whose sermons this extract is taken, was 
 born at Edinburgh, in the ye^r 1718. He was licensed to preach, by the 
 presbytery of that city, in 1741. In 1762, he was appointed professor of 
 rhetoric and belles-lettres, in the Edinburgh University. He acquired 
 great distinction, and was eminently useful, both as a speaker and a writer. 
 
 His sermons, and his lectures upon rhetoric, are written in a style which 
 few authors have equalled, and which, for perspicuity and elegance, none 
 have surpassed. He died at the age of eighty-two years. 
 
 The advice given in the extract, is very salutary. We ought to meet 
 all the ills of life without a murmur. The above piece should be read in 
 a colloquial manner. 
 
 114. The Daughter's Request. — Anonymous. 
 
 1. My father, thou hast not the tale denied — ■ 
 
 They say that ere noon to-morrow, 
 Thou wilt bring back a radiant, smiling- bride, 
 To our lonely house of sorrow. 
 
 2. I should wish thee joy of thy coming bliss, 
 
 But tears are my words suppressing ; 
 I think of my mother's dying kiss. 
 And my mothei''s parting blessing. 
 
 3. Yet to-morrow I hope to hide my care ; 
 
 I will still my bosom's beating ; 
 
 And strive to give to thy chosen fair 
 
 A kind and courteous greeting. 
 
 4. She will heed me not, in the joyous pride 
 
 Of pomp, and friends, and beauty ; 
 Ah ! little heed has a new-made bride, 
 Of a daughter's quiet duty. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 25o 
 
 5. Thou gavest her costly gems, they say, 
 
 When thy heart first fondly sought her ; 
 Dear father, one nuptial gift, I pray, 
 Bestow on thy weeping daughter. 
 
 6. My eye even now on the treasure falls, 
 
 I covet and ask no other ; 
 It has hung for years on our ancient walls j 
 'Tis the portrait of my mother I 
 
 7. To-morrow, when all is in festal guise, 
 
 And the guests our rooms are filling, 
 The calm, meek gaze of these hazel eyes 
 Might thy soul with grief be thrilling ; 
 
 8. And a gloom on thy marriage banquet cast, 
 
 Sad thoughts of their owner giving ; 
 For a fleeting twelvemonth scarce has past 
 Since she mingled with the living. 
 
 9. If thy bride should weary or ofTend, 
 
 That portrait might awaken feelings 
 Of the love of thy fond departed friend, 
 And its sweet and kind revealings ; 
 
 10. Of her mind's commanding force, unchecked 
 
 By feeble and selfish weakness ; 
 Of her speech, where dazzling intellect 
 Was softened by christian meekness. 
 
 11. Then, father, grant that at once, to-night, 
 
 Ere the bridal crowd's intrusion, 
 
 I remove this portrait from thy sight, 
 
 To my chamber's still seclusion. 
 
 12. It will nerve me to-morrow's dawn to bear,— 
 
 It will beam on me protection, 
 When I ask of Heaven in faltering prayer, 
 To hallow thy new connexion. 
 
 13. Thou wilt waken, father, in pride and glee, 
 
 To renew the ties once broken j 
 22 
 
254 SELECT PIECES 
 
 But nought on earth remains to me, 
 Save this sad and silent token. 
 
 4. The husband's tears may be few and brief, 
 He may woo and win another; 
 But the daughter clings in unchanging grief 
 To the image of her mother ! 
 
 115. The Universal Prayer.— Pope. 
 
 1. Father of all ! in every age, 
 
 In every clime, adored, 
 By saint, by savage, and by sage, 
 Jehovah, Jove, or Lord ! 
 
 2. Thou great First Cause, least understood, 
 
 Who all my sense confined 
 To know but this, that Thou art good, 
 And that myself am blind ; 
 
 3. Yet gave me, in this dark estate, 
 
 To see the good from ill ; 
 And binding nature fast in fate, 
 Left free the human will. 
 
 4. What conscience dictates to be done, 
 
 Or warns me not to do, 
 This, teach me more than hell, to shun, 
 That, more than heaven, pursue. 
 
 5. What blessings thy free bounty gives, 
 
 Let me not cast away ; 
 For God is paid, when man receives ; 
 To enjoy, is to obey. 
 
 6. Yet not to earth's contracted span, 
 
 Thy goodness let me bound, 
 Or think thee Lord alone of man, 
 When thousand worlds are round. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 255 
 
 7. Let not this weak, unknowing hand 
 
 Presume thy bolts to throw; 
 And deal damnation round the land, 
 On each I judge thy foe. 
 
 8. If I am right, thy grace impart, 
 
 Still in the right to stay ; 
 If I am wrong, Oh ! teach my heart 
 To find that better way ! 
 
 9. Save me alike from foolish pride, 
 
 Or impious discontent, 
 At aught thy wisdom has denied, 
 Or aught thy goodness lent. 
 
 10. Teach me to feel another's wo; 
 
 To hide the fault I see ; 
 
 That mercy I to others show, 
 
 That mercy show to me. 
 
 11. Mean though I am, not wholly so, 
 
 Since quicken'd by thy breath ; 
 O, lead me wheresoe'er 1 go ; 
 Through this day's life or death ! 
 
 12. This day be bread and peace my lot ; 
 
 All else beneath the sun. 
 Thou know'st if best bestow'd or not, 
 And let thy will be done. 
 
 13. To thee, whose temple is all space, 
 
 Whose altar, earth, sea, skies! 
 One chorus let all beings raise ! 
 All nature's incense rise. 
 
 Alexander Pope was born at London, in the year 1688. He possessed 
 great poetical talents. His " Essay on Man " is very beautiful in lan- 
 guage, and elaborate in disquisition. His " Universal Prayer " is a pro- 
 duction of no ordinary merit. It should not be read in a hurried manner, 
 and yet with earnestness. It seems to me, that a pause should be made at 
 the end of a line in poetry, only when the construction is such as would 
 render one proper and necessary in prose. The productions of poetical 
 genius need no effort, on the part of the reader, to distinguish, by his elo- 
 cution, the former from the latter. 
 
256 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Pope was crooked^ and when tauntingly told so, he would say, " God 
 mend me." His constitution was feeble ; but by abstaining from the use 
 of intoxicating drinks, and poisonous tobacco, he lived until the 56th year 
 of his age. 
 
 116. Reflections at Sea. — Rev. Howard Malcom. 
 
 1. Amid the numerous discomforts of a long- sea voyage, 
 one is thrown upon his own resources, both for improvement 
 and pleasure. But the mind, accustomed to view with intelli- 
 gent and devout contemplation the works of God, can seldom 
 be without materials, for lofty and purifying thought. And, 
 surely the wide ocean and wider sky present a rich field, for 
 the expatiation of our noblest thoughts. 
 
 2. Pacing the deck, or leaning against the bulwarks, to- 
 wards setting sun, it would seem as though the most gross 
 and thoughtless mind must rise, and expand, and feel delight. 
 Far and near rolls " old ocean." Before Jehovah spread out 
 the fairer scenery of the dry land, these restless billows swelled 
 and sparkled, beneath the new-made firmament. 
 
 3. Thousands of years their wide expanse remained a track- 
 less waste, 
 
 " Unconquerable, unreposed, untired, 
 And rolled the wild, profound, eternal bass, 
 In nature's anthem." 
 
 The storm then found no daring mariner to brave its fury, and 
 the gentle breeze no repose on the fair canvass of the lordly 
 ship. Age after age, the fowls of heaven and the tenants of 
 the deep, held undisputed empire. 
 
 4. But now, every ocean is added to the dominion of man. 
 He captures its rulers, he makes its surges his highway, and 
 so dexterously adjusts his spreading canvass, as to proceed in 
 the very face of the winds, to his desired haven. But O ! 
 how many have found in these same billows, a grave ! How 
 many a gallant ship has " sunk like lead in the mighty 
 waters," where beauty and vigor, wealth and venerableness, 
 learning and piety, find undistinguished graves ! 
 
 5. To these lone deserts of pure waters, man pursues his 
 brother with murderous intent ; the silence is broken by thun- 
 dering cannon ; the billows bear away the stain of gore, and 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 257 
 
 all that storm ever swallowed up, have been outnumbered by 
 the victims of battle. O, war ! when will thy horrid banner 
 be for ever furled ! 
 
 6. Reflection, following the chasing waves, passes on to the 
 shores they lave, and there looks over nations, and beholds 
 men in their manners, customs, follies, and crimes, their loves 
 and hates, their joys and sorrows, their enthusiastic pursuit of 
 wealth, and amazing disregard of Heaven. How intermina- 
 ble and salutary are the thoughts thou inspirest, ocean ! wheth- 
 er we regard thy age, thy beauties, thy silence, thy treasures, 
 thy services to man, thy praise to God, or the scenes which 
 have been acted on thy surface ! 
 
 7. But while we thus muse and speculate, the glories of 
 sunset fade into sober gray, the billows take a deeper tinge, 
 stars multiply, and Soon we stand beneath the firmament glow- 
 ing with ten thousand fires. Here are vaster, sublimer fields 
 for thought. 
 
 8. " Hail, Source of Being ! Universal Soul 
 
 Of heaven and earth ! Essential Presence, hail f 
 To Thee I bend the knee ; to Thee my thoughts 
 Continual climb ; who, with a master hand, 
 Hast the great whole into perfection touched." 
 
 9. How ennobling and purifying is the study of astronomy ! 
 How delicious the Christian's hope of soon roaming among 
 these works of infinite wisdom and power, ever learning, ador- 
 ing, rejoicing, improving; ever becoming more full of God, 
 and of glory, and of joy. 
 
 This extract is from Rev. Mr. Malcom's " Travels in South Eastern 
 Asia." 
 
 117. Speech to the Ladies. — D. Webster. 
 
 1. Ladies, — I am very sure I owe the pleasure I now enjoy, 
 to your kind disposition, which has given me the opportunity 
 to present my thanks and my respects to you, thus collectively, 
 for the unbounded hospitality I have received in this city. It 
 is registered, I assure you, on a grateful heart in characters of 
 22* 
 
258 SELECT PIECES 
 
 an enduring nature. The rough contests of the political world 
 are not suited to the dignity and to the delicacy of your sex. 
 It is by the promulgation of sound morals, in the community, 
 and more especially by the training and instruction of the 
 young, that woman performs her part towards the preserva- 
 tion of a free goverment. 
 
 2. It is now generally admitted that public liberty, the 
 perpetuity of a free constitution, rests on the virtue and intelli- 
 gence of the community which enjoys it. How is that virtue 
 to be inspired ? and how is that intelligence to be communi- 
 cated? Bonaparte once asked Madame de Stael, in what 
 manner he could most promote the happiness of France. Her 
 reply is full of political wisdom. She said, "instruct the 
 mothers of the French people." Because the mothers are the 
 affectionate and the effective teachers of the human race. 
 
 3. The mother begins this process of training, with the 
 infant in her arms. It is she who directs, so to speak, its first 
 mental and spiritual pulsations. She conducts it along the 
 impressible years of childhood and of youth ; and hopes to 
 deliver it to the rough contests, and tumultuous scenes of life, 
 armed by those good principles, which her child has first 
 received from maternal care and love. 
 
 4. If we draw within the circle of our contemplation, the 
 mothers of a civilized nation, what do we see ? We behold 
 so many artificers working, not on frail and perishable matter, 
 but on the immortal mind, moulding and fashioning beings 
 who are to exist forever. We applaud the artist whose skill 
 and genius present the mimic man upon the canvass, — we 
 admire and celebrate the sculptor who works out that same 
 image in enduring marble ; but how insignificant are these 
 achievements, though the highest and the fairest in all the 
 departments of art, in comparison with the great vocation of 
 human mothers! They work not upon the canvass that shall 
 fail, or the marble that shall crumble into dust, but upon mind, 
 upon spirit ; which is to last for ever, and which is to bear, 
 for good or for evil, throughout its duration, the impress of a 
 mother's plastic hand. 
 
 5. The feelings are to be disciplined, the passions are to be 
 restrained, true and worthy motives are to be inspired, a pro- 
 found religious feeling is to be instilled, and pure morality incul- 
 cated, under all circumstances. Mothers who are faithful to 
 this great duty, will tell their children, that neither in politi- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 259 
 
 cal, nor in any other concerns of life, can man ever withdraw 
 himself from the perpetual obligations of conscience and of 
 duty ; that in every act, whether public or private, he incurs 
 a just responsibility, and that in no condition is he warranted 
 in trifling with important rights and obligations. They will 
 impress upon their children the truth, that the exercise of the 
 elective franchise, is a social duty of as solemn a nature, as 
 man can be called to perform; that a man may not inno- 
 cently trifle with his vote ; that every free elector is a trustee 
 as well for others as himself, and that every man and every 
 measure he supports, has an important bearing on the inter- 
 ests of others, as well as on his own. 
 
 6. It is in the inculcation of high and pure morals, such as 
 these, that in a free republic, woman performs her sacred 
 duty and fulfils her destiny. The French are remarkable for 
 their fondness for sententious phrases in which much meaning 
 is condensed into a small space. I noticed lately, on the title 
 page of one of the books of popular instruction in France this, 
 motto: "Pour instruction on the heads of the people; you 
 owe them that baptism. 7 ' And certainly, if there be any duty 
 which may be described by a reference to that great institute 
 of religion, a duty approaching it in importance, perhaps next 
 to it in obligation, it is this. 
 
 7. You will kindly receive the assurances with which I ten- 
 der to you, on parting, my affectionate respects and best 
 wishes. 
 
 This" speech was made to several thousand ladies, at Richmond, Vir- 
 ginia, in the autum of 1840. It contains sentiments of immediate interest 
 to ladies, and worthy the adoption of every patriot and Christian. When 
 Mr. Webster resumed his seat, James Barbour, Esq. governor of Virginia, 
 said: "I entirely accord with the view's which have been so eloquently 
 expressed, by the highly distinguished gentleman who has addressed you. 
 'Albeit unused to the melting mood,' I found, while he was expressing 
 them, the tears involuntarily stealing down my cheeks ; and I am per- 
 suaded that the heart of every lady here present, more than responds to 
 my own." 
 
 118. The Snow Storm. — Portland Argus. 
 
 1. The cold winds swept the mountain's height, 
 And pathless was the dreary wild, 
 
260 . SELECT PIECES 
 
 And, 'mid the cheerless hours of night 
 
 A mother wandered with her child — 
 As through the drifted snow she pressed, 
 The babe was sleeping on her breast. 
 
 2. And colder still the winds did blow, 
 
 And darker hours of night came on, 
 And deeper grew the drifts of snow — 
 
 Her limbs were chilled, her strength was gone. 
 " O God !" she cried, in accents wild, 
 " If I must perish, save my child !" 
 
 3. She stripped her mantle from her breast, 
 
 And bared her bosom to the storm, 
 And round the child, she wrapped the vest, 
 
 And smiled to think her babe w r as warm. 
 With one cold kiss, one tear she shed, 
 And sunk upon a snowy bed. 
 
 4. At dawn a traveller passed by, — 
 
 She lay beneath a snowy veil ; 
 The frost of death was in her eye ; 
 
 Her cheek was cold, and hard, and pale ; — 
 He moved the robe from off the child ; 
 The babe looked up, and sweetly smiled. 
 
 The circumstances to which this poetry relates are described as follows, 
 in the Portland Argus : " In the month of December, 1821, a Mr. Blake 
 and his wife, and an infant, were passing over the Green mountain, near 
 the town of Arlington, Vt. in a sleigh with one horse. The drifting snow 
 rendered it impossible for the horse to proceed. Mr. Blake set off on foot 
 in search of assistance, and perished in the storm before he could reach a 
 human dwelling. The mother, alarmed, as is supposed, at his long ab- 
 sence, went in search of him with the infant in her arms. She was foun^ 
 in the morning dead, a short distance from the sleigh. The child was 
 wrapped in her cloak, and survived the perils of the cold and the storm." 
 
 -" Sore pierced by wintry winds, 
 
 Far from the track and blest abode of man, 
 ***** On every nerve 
 The deadly winter seizes ; shuts up sense ; 
 And o'er their inmost vitals creeping cold, 
 ****** Lays them 
 Beneath the shelter of the shapeless drift." 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 261 
 
 A mother's love, led Mrs. Blake to suffer the agonies of freezing to 
 death, that her " little one," 
 
 ' Peeping out 
 
 Into the mingled storm 
 might continue to breathe the air of heaven. 
 
 119. Extract from the Charge preceding the Sentence 
 of the Court in the case of the three Thayers. — Hon. 
 R. Hyde Walworth. 
 
 1. The feelings and emotions with which I enter upon the 
 discharge of the solemn and important duty, which devolves 
 upon the court, and which I am now about to perform, are 
 too painful to be expressed. To pronounce the dreadful sen- 
 tence, which is to cut a fellow mortal off from society, — to 
 deprive him of existence, — and to send him to the bar of his 
 Creator and his God, where his destiny must be fixed for eter- 
 nity, is, at all times, and under any circumstances, most pain- 
 ful to the court. But to be compelled at one and the same 
 time, to consign to the gallows three young men who have 
 just arrived at manhood, standing in the relation to each other 
 of brothers, and connected with society in the tender relations 
 of children, brothers, husbands, and fathers, presses upon my 
 feelings with a weight, which I can neither resist nor express. 
 
 2. From the testimony which was given on the trials of 
 your several cases, there is no room to doubt the certainty of 
 your guilt, or the aggravating circumstances attending the 
 perpetration of the bloody deed. The man whom you have 
 murdered was your companion and your friend. He had 
 loaned you money to relieve your necessities, and to support 
 your families. He was the lenient creditor, renewing and 
 exchanging his judgments and his executions from time to 
 time, to prevent the sacrifice of your property. He was the 
 lodger of your father, and frequently enjoyed the hospitalities 
 of your own roofs. In the unsuspecting hour of private confi- 
 dence, you decoyed him to the retired dwelling of Israel 
 Thayer, junior, and there, while enjoying the hospitality of 
 the social fire-side, you stole upon him unperceived, — you 
 aimed the deadly rifle at his head, and with the fatal axe you 
 
262 SELECT PIECES 
 
 mangled and murdered your victim ; mingling his blood with 
 that of your butchered swine. But your guilt and depravity 
 did not stop here. Scarcely had you committed his lifeless 
 corpse to its shallow grave, before you began to collect and to 
 not upon the spoils of his property. To the crime of murder, 
 you added those of theft, fraud, and forgery, and repeatedly 
 imprecated the vengeance of Heaven upon your perjured 
 souls. 
 
 3. Wretched and deluded men ! In vain was the foul 
 deed perpetrated under cover of the darkness of the night ; in 
 vain was the mangled body of your murdered companion 
 committed to the earth, and the lonely grave concealed by 
 rubbish; in vain was the little boy sent home to his mo- 
 ther, and the unsuspecting wife removed from her house that 
 no human eye should be near to witness the foul and unnatu- 
 ral murder ; in vain did you expect the snows of winter to 
 conceal the grave until the body of your victim could be na 
 longer known and recognized. 
 
 4. You forgot that the eye of your God was fixed upon you ; 
 the eye of that God who suffers not even a sparrow to fall 
 without his notice. You forgot that you was in the presence 
 of Him to whom the light of day, and the darkness of night 
 are the same ; that He witnessed all your movements ; that 
 He could withhold the accustomed snows from falling on the 
 earth, or His breath could melt them when fallen, leaving tho 
 grave uncovered, and thus exposing you to detection and 
 condemnation. His vengeance has at length overtaken you. 
 
 5. The sword of human justice trembles over you, and is 
 about to fall upon your guilty heads ; you are about to take 
 your final leave of this world, and to enter upon the untried 
 retributions of a never-ending eternity. And I beg of you not 
 to delude yourselves with vain hopes of pardon, which never 
 can be realized. Your destiny for this world is fixed, and 
 your fate is inevitable. Let me therefore entreat you, individ- 
 ually and collectively, by every motive, temporal and eternal, 
 to reflect upon your present situation, and the certain death 
 that shortly awaits you. There is but One, who can pardon 
 your offences ; there is a Savior whose blood is sufficient to 
 wash from your souls the guilty stains even of a thousand 
 murders. Let me therefore entreat you to fly to Him for that 
 mercy, and that pardon, which you must not expect from 
 mortals. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 263 
 
 6. When you shall have returned to the solitude of your 
 prison, where you will be permitted to remain for a few short 
 weeks, let me entreat you by all that is still dear to you in 
 Jjpe, — by all that is dreadful in the retributions of eternity, 
 that you seriously reflect upon your present situation, and 
 upon the conduct of your past lives. Bring to your minds all 
 the aggravated horrors of that dreadful night, when the soul of 
 the murdered Love was sent unprepared into the presence of 
 its God ; where you must shortly meet it as an accusing spirit 
 against you. Bring to your recollections the mortal struggles, 
 and dying groans of your murdered friend. Recollect the hor- 
 ror which seized upon you, while you dragged his mangled 
 remains to the place of concealment ! 
 
 7. Think of the situation of your aged father, to whom you 
 are indebted for your existence. Think of the grief of your 
 distracted and disconsolate mother, who has nursed you in the 
 lap of affection, and watched over the tender years of your 
 infancy ; who must now go down to the grave, sorrowing 
 over the ruins of her family. Think of the dreadful agonies, — 
 think of the unnatural and desolate widowhood, to which you 
 reduced the unfortunate partners of your beds and of your 
 bosoms. Think upon the situation of your poor orphan chil- 
 dren, on whom you have entailed everlasting disgrace and 
 infamy ; and who are now to be left fatherless and unprotected 
 to the mercy of the world. 
 
 8. And when by such reflections as these, your hard and 
 obdurate hearts shall become softened, let me again entreat 
 you before your blood-stained hands are raised in unavailing 
 supplication before the judgment seat of Christ, that you fly 
 for mercy to the arms of a Savior, and endeavor to seize upon 
 the salvation of His cross. Listen now to the dreadful sen- 
 tence of the law ; and then farewell, until the court and you, 
 with all this assembled audience, shall meet together in the 
 general resurrection. And may that God whose laws you 
 have broken, and before whose dread tribunal you must in a 
 few days appear, have mercy on your souls. 
 
 On the 25th day of April, 1825, at Buffalo, Judge Walworth, the 
 present chancellor, delivered the charge, from which this extract is taken, 
 previous Vj passing sentence upon the three brothers, Nelson Thayer, 
 Israel Thayer, jun. and Isaac Thayer, all of whom, had been indicted by 
 the grand jury of the county of Erie, and pronounced, by petit juries of 
 that county, guilty of the " foul and aggravated murder" of John Love, in 
 
264 SELECT PIECES 
 
 the town of Boston, December 15th, 1824. In pursuance of their convic- 
 tion, and in obedience " to the dreadful sentence of the law," they were 
 all executed; i. e.in the language of the court, " hanged by the neck until 
 they were dead," on the 17th day of June, 1825. 
 
 120. Presidents of the United States. — Samuel N. Sweet 
 
 1. George Washington was born February 22d, 1732. 
 He lived at Mount Vernon, Fairfax county, Virginia. At 
 the early age of 19 he was appointed adjutant general of his 
 native state. In 1775, he was appointed, by the first conti- 
 nental congress, commander in chief of the American army, 
 and he performed the duties of that office without any pecu- 
 niary reward ! The colonial settlers numbered only 3,000,000 
 of men. — England 40,000,000 ; but notwithstanding this great 
 difference in numerical strength, at the expiration of seven 
 years, passed 
 
 " in the tented field ;" 
 
 upon the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, in 1781, at Yorktown, 
 the English government acknowledged the independence and 
 sovereignty of the United States. Neither Britons, nor In- 
 dians, nor traitors, nor all combined, could prevail against the 
 widow's son from the woods of Virginia. General Washing- 
 ton was elected president of the United States in 1789, at the 
 age of 57 years. In 1793, the electors of the states, notwith- 
 standing his strong desire to retire from the cares of public 
 life, again unanimously elected him chief magistrate of the 
 union. He died at Mount Vernon, Virginia, December 14, 
 1799, at half past eleven o'clock. Saturday night, at the age of 
 67 years, 9 months, and 22 days. 
 
 2. John Adams was born October 19, 1735. He lived at 
 Gluincy, Norfolk county, Massachusetts ; was vice president 
 of the United States during both terms of Washington's ad- 
 ministration ; was elected to the presidential office in 1797, at 
 the age of 62, and died July 4, 1826, at 6 o'clock in the after- 
 noon, aged 90 years, 10 months, and fifteen days. 
 
 3. Thomas Jefferson was born in the county of Chester- 
 field, April 2, 1743. He lived at Monticello, Albemarle 
 county, Virginia ; was secretary of state in Washington's cabi- 
 net; was elected vice president of the United States in 1797 ; 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 265 
 
 the house of representatives, voting- by states, chose and elected 
 him to the presidency in 1801, at the age of 58 years, for four 
 years, his term of office commencing on the 4th of March. 
 Sixty-five electors for president, voted in favor of Mr. Adams's 
 reelection to that office ; Mr. Jefferson and Aaron Burr had 
 each seventy-three votes. Under these circumstances the 
 constitution required the house to decide between the two 
 gentlemen, having an equal number of votes. The unsuc- 
 cessful candidate, Mr. Burr, was elected to the vice presidency. 
 in 1804, the vice president killed General Hamilton in a duel. 
 In 1805, Mr. Jefferson was re-chosen president of the United 
 States, and George Clinton of New- York w T as elected vice 
 president. President Jefferson died July 4, 1826, at one 
 o'clock in the afternoon, on the same day, and five hours be- 
 fore President Adams died, at the age of 83 years, 3 months, 
 «*nd two days. 
 
 ; 4. James Madison was born in 1756. He lived at Mont- 
 pelier, Orange county, Virginia, was elected president of the 
 United States in 1809, at the age of fifty-three years. June 
 4, 1812, a bill was passed by congress, declaring war against 
 Great Britain, which received President Madison's signature. 
 The emperor of Russia offering to meditate between Great 
 Britain and America, Messrs. Albert Gallatin, James A. Bay- 
 ard, and John Gluincy Adams were appointed commissioners 
 to Russia in 1813, and they met those sent by the British na- 
 tion at Ghent, where they signed a treaty of peace, December 
 24, 1814. The treaty was ratified by the president and sen- 
 ate, February 17. Mr. Madison was reelected president of 
 the United States in 1813. DeWitt Clinton of New- York 
 was the opposing candidate. George Clinton died, and El- 
 bridge Gerry succeeded him, as vice president. 
 
 5. James Monroe w T asborn in 1758. He lived in Loudon 
 county, Virginia ; was elected president of the United States 
 in 1817, at the age of 59. Daniel D. Tompkins was elected 
 vice president. Mr. Monroe was almost unanimously reelect- 
 ed to the presdidency in 1821. Mr. Tompkins was reelected 
 vice president. The second session of the 16th congress closed 
 March 3, and on the 5th Mr. Monroe took the usual oath of 
 office. He died at the house of his daughter and son-in-law, 
 Mr. Governeur in New-York, July 4, 1831, at the age of 73. 
 This is the third American president who has died on the day 
 23 
 
266 SELECT PIECES 
 
 of the month the Independence of the United States was 3e- 
 clared. ^ 
 
 6. John Quincy Adams, son of John Adams, was born July 
 11, 1767. He li^es at duincy, Norfolk county, Massachu- 
 setts. At the age of 14 years, Mr. Adams was secretary of 
 legation to Judge Dana, minister to Russia ; when 27, he was 
 appointed ambassador to the Hague ; was minister to Russia 
 in 1816; secretary. of state in 1817, being called from Russia 
 by President Monroe ; was chosen and elected president of 
 the 'United States, February 9, 1825, by the house of repre- 
 sentatives, and entered upon the duties of the office March 4. 
 Soon after his term of office expired, he was elected a member 
 of the house of representatives of the United States, and has 
 been repeatedly reelected to that office. 
 
 7. Andrew Jackson was born at Waxaw, South Caroling, 
 March 15, 1767. He lived at Nashville, Davison county, 
 Tennessee, where he went in 1788. During Mr. Madison's 
 administration, General Jackson achieved a great victory at 
 New Orleans. He was elected president of the United States 
 in 1829, at the age of 62. He was re-chosen by the people 
 to that office in 1833. He died June 8, 1845, at the Her- 
 mitage, near Nashville, at half past six o'clock on Sunday 
 evening, at the age of 78 years, 2 months and 23 days. 
 
 8. Martin Van Buren was born at Kinderhook, Columbia 
 county, New- York, December 5, 1782. Mr. Van Buren was 
 appointed United States senator in 1821 ; was elected gover- 
 nor of the state of New- York in 1829 ; was secretary of state 
 in General Jackson's cabinet, when it was first formed, until 
 he resigned that station ; was vice president of the United 
 States during President Jackson's second term ; was elected 
 president of the United States in 1837, at the age of 55 years; 
 and, after taking the oath of office, March 4, he entered upon 
 the presidential duties. 
 
 9. William Henry Harrison was born February 9, 1773, 
 at Berkley, on the James river, in Charles City county, Vir- 
 ginia. He lived at North Bend. He was appointed gover- 
 nor of Indiana in 1801 ; was re-appointed in 1809 ; was 
 appointed commander in chief of the northwestern army in 
 1812 ; was elected to congress in 1816 ; was elected president 
 of the United States in 1841, at the age of 68 years. He died 
 at Washington, April 4, at thirty minutes before one o'clock 
 ;n the morning, one month from the day of his inauguration. 
 
 & 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 267 
 
 General Harrison is the only president that has died while 
 occupying that station. 
 
 10. John Tyler was born in the year 1790, in Charles 
 City county, Virginia. In 1816, he was elected a member 
 of the house of representatives; in 1825, he was chosen gov- 
 ernor of Virginia ; in 1827, he was elected to the senate of the 
 United States; in 1841, he was elected vice president of the 
 United States, at the age of fifty-one years. Immediately 
 after the death of President Harrison, Mr. Tyler, in obe- 
 dience to the provisions of the constitution, entered upon the 
 discharge of the duties of president of the United States. 
 
 11. James K. Polk was born November 2, 1795. He 
 lives near Nashville, in Tennessee ; has been governor of that 
 state ; was speaker of the house of representatives of the Uni- 
 ted States in 1836 ; was elected president of the United States 
 in 1845, at the age of fifty years. President Polk's term of 
 office will expire March 3, 1849. Brighter names than those 
 of our American presidents cannot be found on the executive 
 calendar of any country. We can exultingly say of our first 
 president : 
 
 '^Description cannot suit itself in words, 
 To demonstrate the life of such a man." 
 
 Almost every body has occasion to do business through the post office, — 
 
 it is, therefore, deemed advisable, to publish such provisions of the law, 
 
 passed by congress in 1845, regulating the rates of postage, as will be 
 
 most convenient for reference. 
 
 On letters single, or any number of pieces not exceeding half an 
 
 ounce, sent any distance not exceeding 300 miles, . . 5 cents. 
 
 If sent over 300 miles, . . . . . . . . 10 " 
 
 For every additional weight of half an ounce, or any fractional 
 excess of less than that, there is additional postage of five 
 or ten cents, according to the distance. 
 
 On a letter dropped into the office for delivery in the same 
 
 place, . . . . . 2 " 
 
 What is subject to letter postage, is denned to be letters in man- 
 uscript, or paper of any kind conveyed in the mail, by or 
 upon which information shall be asked for or communi- 
 cated in writing, or by marks or signs. 
 
 On circulars, handbills, or advertisements printed or lithograph- 
 ed, on quarto post, or single cap, or paper not larger than 
 single cap, folded and directed, but left unsealed, on each 
 sheet for any distance, . . . . . . . 2 " 
 
 When sealed these are rated as letters. 
 
 On pamphlets, magazines, and periodicals, except newspapers, 
 circulars, handbills, and advertisements, unconnected with 
 
268 SELECT PIECES 
 
 any manuscript communication whatever, for every copy of 
 no greater weiglnVthan one ounce for any distance, . . 2& cts. 
 For each additional ounce, ....... 1 " 
 
 Newspapers go free for any distance not exceeding 30 miles from 
 the place where printed, when sent by the editors or pub- 
 lishers thereof. For any distance beyond 30 miles, within 
 the state where published, . . . . . . 1 " 
 
 For any distance exceeding 100 miles out of the state where 
 
 published, . . 1| *• 
 
 121. Advantages of Knowledge. — 8. N. Sweet. 
 
 1. Education, properly understood, includes morality, as 
 well as a knowledge of the sciences. In vain may we become 
 familiar with the various branches of education, which are 
 taught in our schools, unless we cultivate and practise correct 
 moral habits. To educate the intellectual faculties, and stop 
 there, is not enough. It is the solemn duty of all teachers, to 
 present before the u mind's eye" of youth, the pure principles 
 of morality, even of that morality, the perfection -of which, is 
 found alone in the doctrines and conduct of our Savior and the 
 apostles. 
 
 2. Let them early understand, that every dereliction from 
 moral rectitude, brings calamities upon themselves ; that crime 
 drags its perpetrator down to a level with the brute, and often 
 sinks a being u made but little lower than the angels," even 
 below the animal creation. Teach them that, if it were pos- 
 sible to throw off all the claims and obligations of morality and 
 religion, that even then, it would not be policy, to do any thing 
 wrong, for the reason, that no man, since the world began, 
 ever yet had intellect enough, to commit atrocious crimes, and 
 escape detection. 
 
 3. The very efforts which the guilty make, to shroud their 
 iniquity " in the mantle of the dark," not unfrequently bring it 
 to light. Under the inscrutable workings of an all-wise Prov- 
 idence, the dark cloud under which crime is perpetrated, 
 "turns her silver lining upon it," and the guilty are punished. 
 
 4. Well did Dr. Blair say, that " the short space of seventy 
 years is not worth being a villain for." The pleasures of sin, 
 if indeed it can be said to have any pleasures, are transient ar 
 the flight of the meteor which calls our attention only to wit 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 263 
 
 ness its fall. And moreover, they are always ;( followed by 
 long woes." 
 
 5. Cicero, although he lived anterioT to the coming of 
 Christ, says: "I would do nothing that is d:i lie or 
 lascivious, even though I knew the act be forever dis- 
 guised both from the immortal gods and men: 1 And shall 
 not we who believe in the existence of that God, who know- 
 ing the secrets of all hearts, will assuredly punish vice and 
 reward virtue, walk in the morning effulgence of the great 
 truths of Christianity 1 And will not the instructors of our 
 youth, teach them that moral culture is essentia] 
 intellectual 1 
 
 6. Will not parents employ teachers of moral worth, ^s 
 well as literary attainments ] Who does not know that as 
 children are taught, so, with very few exceptions, they will 
 act through life ? Dr. Paley compares them, when unedu- 
 cated, to - mad dogs in the streets.'* Shall we not then, wag e 
 an exterminating war against ignorance ! Let ouiw; 
 down with the monster, for wherever it 
 
 "fins 
 
 It strikes deadly blows, nor feels the wounds if givs 
 
 7. Not so with knowledge Tim light with which it fills 
 
 the mind. is. "a lamp to our fee:.*' It introduces to us the 
 best society the world ever produced. We: sf.soto 
 
 speak, with the great and good men of ai: agt :ing. 
 
 And it is easy to "see clearly, and not as thrc igh :..:.sS: 
 darkly." that those wh a taste foi £ will 
 
 occupy their leisure moments in re:.;..: " :.. ' "., r.; ;::df, 
 rather than in vis::. ng places ;. imj ::: 
 
 w "What is man 
 Be but to sleep and 
 
 Sure he that ree, 
 
 Lookin^; 
 
 -^.e reason, 
 To rust out unused 
 
 8. Our Creator has I upon us all ;.nd 
 cioral powers of our nature, to be improved with incessant and 
 
 ever growing exercise. The human mind is on its triumphant 
 Liareh to lom and truth. It is immortal, and 
 
 imperishable interests should fl imme- 
 
 iiate jewel of the soul/' Under the guidance >.ian 
 
 Qoralitv, 
 
 23* 
 
270 SELECT PIECES 
 
 " Knowledge to the soul 
 
 Is life, and liberty, and peace, 
 And wliile eternal ages roll, 
 
 The joys of knowledge shall increase," 
 
 122. Disadvantages of Ignorance. — S. N. Sweet. 
 
 1. Ignorance is the source of a large portion of the vice and 
 misery that exist in the world. In the absence of a know- 
 ledge of human nature, and of the attributes of Deity, man is 
 not otherwise distinguished from the brute creation, than by 
 the figure of his species. While ignorant of the philosophy 
 of the mind, and of the character of God, he is but a child of a 
 larger growth, even in advanced age. He violates municipal 
 laws, of the existence of which, he is unconscious ; and yet, he 
 suffer^heir penalties. 
 
 2. He believes that imaginary beings, called witches, have 
 actually existed ; and although the dead return not to the 
 earth, his imagination is visited with spectral illusions of mid- 
 night ghosts. Being a stranger to Christianity, which reveals 
 all that mortal man can know of future events ; he puts confi- 
 dence in the false pretences of sooth-sayers, some of whom are 
 to be found, in almost every community. A thousand other 
 ills, from which the well informed individual is free, 
 
 M shade the prospect of his joys." 
 
 3. Unacquainted with his history, he knows not the pleasure 
 derived from a survey of the vast fields of knowledge which 
 it unfolds. Having paid no attention to astronomy, he has 
 yet to learn that the stars are worlds, some of which are much 
 larger than ours, and all of which are, in all probability, in- 
 habited by intelligent and happy beings. But what is most 
 to be regretted, is, that such a person does not know, that of 
 all the works of God, man alone has 
 
 — " The great soul, 
 Like the imprison'd eagle, pent within, 
 That struggling fain would fly," 
 
 and soar, as on an angel's wing, to heaven. He attaches more 
 importance to the frail and perishable body, than to the im- 
 mortal mind. 
 
 4. If his mind and heart are not imbued with the spirit of 
 
FOR EXERCISES, 271 
 
 Christ, he will be likely to diminish, rather than increase the 
 happiness of those around him. He will probably cherish, 
 and practically exemplify, a feeling of extreme selfishness. 
 He will live without friends, and when he dies, nobody will 
 mourn. And, moreover, he may "do himself harm." If he 
 do not spend his leisure hours in acquiring valuable know- 
 ledge, he may be tempted to visit places, where that life and 
 soul-destroying stuff, — ardent spirits, — is sold; or he may 
 stultify himself enough to visit houses, the doors of which, like 
 " the gates of hell," stand open day and night. Vice, like 
 this, draws a dark cloud over his prospects of happiness, 
 through the eternal shadows of which, nothing is clearly dis- 
 cernible but misery and wo. 
 
 5. In view of these facts, the question suggests itself to 
 every philanthropist, what means can be adopted for the gen- 
 eral diffusion of knowledge ? I answer, that one of the greatest 
 known engines of influence, to effect that object, an object in- 
 separably connected with the purity and perpetuation of our 
 free and glorious institutions, is the Press. Many of the 
 people of the United States have neither leisure nor disposition, 
 to pursue a systematic course of study ; and all such may be 
 greatly benefited by cheap and entertaining literary papers and 
 books. The great mass of our countrymen have not the pe- 
 cuniary means to enable them to attend the higher institutions 
 of learning. That knowledge which our academies and col- 
 leges impart, is confined to comparatively few. It is u like 
 morning light, which gilds the mountain tops, but reaches not 
 the valleys." 
 
 6. Our chief reliance, then, must be upon common schools ; 
 institutions established to qualify teachers of such schools; 
 useful books j and upon well conducted educational publica- 
 tions, — for the universal spread of knowledge, and for the 
 intellectual and moral culture of future generations, as well as 
 the present The schoolmaster and the literary newspaper 
 are abroad ; and they cannot fail to exert a powerful influence 
 upon the habits and morals of the people. 
 
 7. Let teachers and editors labor to combine the education 
 of the heart with that of the head, and, while exerting them- 
 selves to make broader and deeper the streams of knowledge, 
 let their instructions be imbued with that pure spirit, which, 
 rising above all sectarianism, embraces the noble doctrines of 
 Christ and the apostles. Ignorance and iniquity produce 
 
272 SELECT PIECES 
 
 misery ; knowledge and religion, happiness. Dr. Wayland's 
 definition of humaa happiness is most excellent. "It consists 
 in the gratification of our desires within the limits assigned to 
 them by our Creator." Those, and those only, who act in accord- 
 ance with the laws of virtue, by seeking knowledge, and by 
 the limitation of their desires within the bounds of enlightened 
 reason, can be happy. 
 
 8. It has been often said, and with much truth, that neither 
 wealth nor fame afford substantial happiness. It is to be 
 found only by living, as becomes " mortal and immortal be- 
 ings." Feeble, indeed, is our hold upon this life. One by 
 one, we are rapidly dropping into the grave. " If," therefore, 
 as Alexander Hamilton expressed it, " we would rescue any 
 thing from final dissolution, we must lay it up in God." 
 
 Cicero and Dr. Franklin have been called egotists, by some weak- 
 minded persons, because they wrote, as they thought of themselves. I 
 design, ere long, to prepare for the press, 
 
 " A round unvarnish'd tale" 
 
 " Of my whole" life, 
 
 "And with it, all my travel's history." 
 
 Samuel N. Sweet was born August 21st, 1805, at Berlin, Rensselaer 
 county, New- York. My father fought for our country's freedom, under the 
 banner of Washington. He died before " the silver locks of boyhood were 
 yet dark upon my temples." At the age of 17 years, I taught a common 
 school, at Adams, Jefferson county. In my twentieth year, I entered 
 General Wright's office, in that town, as a student at law ; and, after- 
 wards, pursued the study, in the law offices of A. G. Hammond, Esq. in 
 my native town ; E. B. Hawes, Esq. at Bellville ; and J. N. Cushman, 
 Esq. in the city of Troy. On the 27th of March, 1840, I was allowed 
 "two years classical studies," by the Hon. Greene C. Bronson, one of the 
 justices of the supreme court of the state of New- York. In 1828 and '29, 1 
 represented Jefferson county, as a delegate in two political state conven- 
 tions, at U tica and Albany ; Rensselaer county in one at Syracuse in 1834 ; 
 Oswego, Lew r is, St. Lawrence, and Jefferson counties, in 1830, in a 
 United States' convention, at the city of Philadelphia ; Monroe county, in 
 a state temperance convention, at Rochester, in 1839; established and 
 edited a public journal at Syracuse in 1830 ; another in 1833, at St. Al- 
 bans, Vermont ; was secretary of the state education convention, of which 
 the Hon. Jabez D. Hammond was president, held at Utica, May 11, 1837; 
 was elected inspector of common schools in my native town in 1828 ; trav- 
 elled through the southern and western section of the union in 1829 ; vis- 
 ited the city of Washington in the spring of 1836 ; was appointed profes- 
 sor of elocution in the Auburn Female Seminary in 1842 ; gave my first 
 lecture on phonology and elocution in the court house, at Cooperstown, 
 in the winter of 1834; lectured at Clinton Hall, in New- York, before the 
 Law Association of that city, in April, 1836 ; taught in the Theological 
 and Literary Institution at Hamilton in 1837 ; lectured in Hamilton Col- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 27S 
 
 lege in March, 1839 ; taught in Geneva College in 1841 ; lectured in 1839 
 before the members of the legislature in the capitol at Albany ; on board 
 the steamboat Champ] ain on its way from New-York to Albany, in May, 
 1826 ; gave four courses of instruction, each of which consisted of ten 
 lessons, to a class of gentlemen of the legal profession in 1837 and 38, at 
 Rochester ; delivered an oration, July 4, 1840, to an audience of 3000 at 
 De Ruyter, N. Y. ; addressed the state convention'of county superinten- 
 dents at Syracuse, in April, 1845 ; taught elocution to the common school 
 teachers of both sexes in the western jury district of Oswego county, 
 at Oswego village, the same spring ; lectured at Saratoga Springs in the 
 summer of 1845; and in the state Normal school ; taught a class of law- 
 yers in the mayor's court room at Albany, the same season ; in obedience 
 to the request of the county superintendents of Rensselaer county, and 
 being sustained by the liberality of William P. Van Rensselaer, Esq. son 
 of the late Hon. Stephen Van Rensselaer, I delivered the introductory 
 lecture at Sand Lake, September 29th, 1845, before the " Teacher's Insti- 
 tute, or Temporary Normal School," of which my younger brother, S. 
 Rensselaer Sweet, the originator of such institutions, was principal, under 
 the supervision of the county superintendent, Dr. P. H. Thomas, a very 
 able educator ; and I gave the ladies and gentlemen in attendance, phono- 
 logical and elocutionary exercises, during the term. In a word, I have 
 given hundreds of lectures and thousands of lessons, in cities, villages, 
 academies, and common schools, in nearly all paits of this state, and in 
 several other states of the union. 
 
 The first edition of my book on Elocution, consisting of 1500 copies, 
 was published at Rochester, in August, 1839 ; the second edition, 3000 
 copies, at Auburn, in 1842 ; the third edition, 3000 copies, at Rochester, 
 in 1844 ; the fourth, and stereotyped edition, at Albany, in 1846 ; and, 
 for all subsequent editions, as well as this, the " Elocution" is greatly inv- 
 proved. 
 
 123. Extract from the Mount Hope Dedication Address, 
 — Rev. Pharcellus Church. 
 
 1. Friends and fellow citizens : The rural and picturesque 
 scenery with which we are surrounded, strikingly harmonizes 
 to the object which has called us together. We have come to 
 consecrate a home for the dead. Among these sequestered 
 shades, the living tenants of our bustling city will soon find a 
 repose, which has been denied them, amid the activities, the 
 changes, and conflicts of Time's busy theatre ; and the succes- 
 sors to their houses, occupations, and wealth, will come here 
 to read on monumental marble, their forgotten names, and to 
 enjoy an hour of sombre thought, over their silent abodes. 
 
 2. Ay, the green lawns, the deep shades, the sighing breezes, 
 and the forest warblers of this wild retreat, will soon claim the 
 
274 SELECT PIECES 
 
 beauty, fashion, aspiring hopes, loves and friendships, bitter 
 animosities, and all Ahe earthly elements of our present social 
 fabric. The very anticipation invests the whole scene with 
 an awful air of solemnity. Mount Hope : 
 
 " The shadow of departed hours 
 Hangs dim upon thine early flowers ; 
 Even in thy sunshine seems to brood 
 Something more deep than solitude." 
 
 3. The instincts of natural affection prompt us to a pious 
 care of the dead. The tender attachments which spring- up 
 under the sunshine of our domestic habits and relations, inter- 
 twine around our hearts, like the vine around the oak, whose 
 stateliness has lifted it to heaven; nor will they cease from 
 their hold, even when their object, yielding to the blasts of 
 disease, age or accident, lies cold and pallid, in the embrace 
 of the grave. 
 
 4. Who can look upon a corpse as upon other clay? Or 
 who can contemplate, without the deepest emotion, the relaxed 
 features of that " human form divine," which he once pressed 
 to his bosom, with the glow of generous love or with the 
 warmth of honorable friendship ? It matters not, though 
 worms claim it for their prey, and it will soon be dissolved to 
 common dust ; still, so long as it retains the impress of those 
 organs, through which the qualities shone, that commanded 
 our love or esteem, how can we withhold from it, the tokens 
 of tender regard ? Are not the heart's most virtuous prompt- 
 ings concerned, in our care of the dead ? 
 
 5. And when the mortal remains are dissolved into their 
 primeval elements, how does the place in which we left them 
 to this mouldering process, become consecrated to our feelings 
 and recollections? We approach it with reverence ; our emo- 
 tions yield to the rush of tender associations, and our eyes 
 overflow with tears ; the solemn hues of eternity tinge the 
 whole scene, and we seem to " tread quite on the verge of 
 heaven." If you have ever lost a friend, you know what it is 
 to have the warmest feelings awakened towards a cold mass 
 of clay. You have laid the hand of love on the marble brow, 
 and imprinted the kiss of affection upon the blanched cheek ; 
 you have lingered among the graves as an enchanted spot, 
 
 " While silently around it spread, 
 You felt the presence of the dead." 
 
FOR EXERCISES, 275 
 
 6. Oh, thoughts of religion and eternity are no exotics, but 
 plants of indigenous growth in the grave yard. We come 
 here, not merely to look upon the cold earth, nor the bloom- 
 ing lawn, nor the smooth surface of the pool, that mirrors the 
 neighboring landscape, nor the more inspiring monuments, 
 with their lettered memorials of buried generations, nor the 
 wild flowers that skirt the grave, and grow on the margin of 
 the still waters ; but we come for the nobler purpose of com- 
 muning with a higher world : and to give scope to those ten- 
 dencies within, which lead us up to immortality. It is a scene 
 of high and awful import. 
 
 7. In selecting the places of repose for our departed friends, 
 we contrive to give vent to the tender feelings which their loss 
 has awakened. Beautiful groves in the neighborhood of pel* 
 lucid streams, and the silvery expanse of the deep still lake, 
 where the dove delights to utter her plaintive tones of lovej 
 and the cuckoo sings her mournful ditty; there, amid the 
 bold elevations, gentle slopes, and profound valleys of broken 
 surface, remote from the tumults of a contending world, affec- 
 tion and piety have ever been wont, to seek a place of rest, 
 for the relics of the dead. 
 
 8. Nor are we less solicitous, in preparing the body for the 
 grave. What a mournful care do we bestow on those silent 
 remains, which never return a token of pleasure, to requite 
 our toil ! Not a look, nor pressure of the hand, nor single pul- 
 sation, responds to our expression of sympathy, and yet, what 
 heart would restrain the emotions which prompt to these affec- 
 tionate offices ? Though we confer no pleasure, is it not a 
 SW T eet relief, to our overburdened feelings, to perform them ? 
 
 9. No sooner does the breath cease to heave the lungs, than 
 we close the eyes, as in sleep, compose the hands to rest upon 
 the motionless bosom, oil and comb the hair; and then, in- 
 stead of wrapping the body in worthless cloth, which would 
 be equally satisfactory to the dead, we dress it in muslins of 
 the purest white, deposite it in a coffin decently made, and 
 with every mark of tenderness, we bear the precious relic to 
 its last abode. And, as it sinks to its final resting place, the 
 language of our hearts to the new-made grave, is, rest lightly 3 
 O earth, upon the bosom of my friend. 
 
 10. And when all is past, — our friends are beyond our 
 sight, and we, in the character of mourners are going about 
 the streets, there is a melancholy pleasure in ornamenting the 
 
276 SELECT PIECES 
 
 place of their burial, and preserving it from desecration. Who 
 could witness without pain, the grave of a husband, a wife, 
 a child, or a parent, trampled down and profaned? 
 
 11. At few points on the surface of the globe, has nature 
 been more liberal, in its provision for giving scope to the prin- 
 ciples in question, than in the neighborhood of our own city. 
 When you stand on the summit of Mount Hope, how en- 
 chanting is the prospect ! Before you lies the thronged city, 
 with its spires and minarets, pointing to heaven. Far off be- 
 yond the city, the broad blue Ontario skirts the undefined dis- 
 tance, as if to remind you of the boundless fields of existence, 
 which eternity will unfold, and to make you feel how few and 
 meagre are the objects subjected to our present inspection, 
 
 * compared with those in the distance, which a future world 
 will disclose. 
 
 12. How favorable are these hills and slopes for the con- 
 struction of tombs ! But it matters not whether our dead re- 
 pose in a mean or honored locality, whether their names perish 
 with the age in which they lived or survive in the enduring 
 granite of the tomb, their dust will spring to life, at the voice 
 of the archangel and the trump of God. His searching sur- 
 vey, penetrating even to the crude elements of nature, will 
 single out the portion necessary to the reconstruction of the 
 soul's original casement, and his power will consign it to im- 
 mortality. Till that eventful period, we dedicate this wild 
 retreat to the repose of the dead. 
 
 13. Let this place henceforth be visited, to revive the mem 
 ory of departed friends, and to anticipate the exalted scenes of 
 eternity. Here, let the lover find a retreat of quiet weeping, 
 over the untimely fate of his betrothed, and to deck her grave 
 with flowers. Here, let the father erect his monument, to the 
 memory of his noble son, who, from the threshold of a prom- 
 ising manhood, dropped into eternity. 
 
 14. Here, let the profligate son catch the inspirations of re- 
 pentance and virtue, as he gazes on the last memorials of his 
 pious parents. Here, let the daughter revive a mother's 
 image and endearments, 
 
 "While this place of weeping etill 
 Its lone memorial keeps, 
 Whilst on her name 'midst woods and hills 
 The quiet sunshine sleeps." 
 
 15. Here, let maternal lore find a calm resort to awaken 
 associations of its infant eharge, and to dwell, with thankftd 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 277 
 
 interest, upon Him who has said, "in heaven their angels do 
 always behold the face of my Father who is in heaven.'' 
 And O, that coming generations may receive, amid these wild 
 and impressive scenes, the inspiring lessons of truth, of piety, 
 and religious hope. 
 
 16. May the eye that from this point, looks mournfully upon 
 the surrounding landscape, be favored like Moses from the 
 summit of Pisgah, with bright visions of the promised rest in 
 heaven. May the tears that fall upon these consecrated 
 grounds, water a harvest of religious fruits, which shall be 
 gathered into life everlasting. From this mount of vision, may 
 
 <{ Prayer, ardent, open heaven. 
 Let down a stream of sacred glory, 
 On the consecrated hour, 
 Of man in audience with the Deity." 
 
 17. From these groves, may levity be for ever banished, to 
 give place to the awful emotions, awakened by the conscious 
 presence of etherial spirits. Let the step be slow and reveren- 
 tial, — let the voice be pitched to tones of seriousness and truth, — 
 let the bosom heave with tenderness and love, — and let the 
 whole soul bow, in devout adoration of Him who holds the 
 keys of life and of death. 
 
 The address from which this beautiful and eloquent extract is taken, 
 Was delivered, at the Rochester Cemetry, called " Mount Hope," in the 
 fall of 1838, and repeated before the athenaeum and young men's associa- 
 tion of that city. Mount Hope is one of the most beautiful cemeteries in 
 America, It is about a mile south of Rochester. The thought did not 
 occur to me, when the above portion of the dedication address was em- 
 bodied in the " Elocution," that my beloved wife would so soon be buried 
 there. But alas ! so it is. On the 26th January, 1844, her immortal spirit 
 passed peacefully into the regions of endless day. With a mother's fond- 
 ness and exultation, she may, by the permission of God, attend our dear 
 daughter, Isidore, as an invisible guardian angel, to warn her of dangers, 
 and to conduct her 
 
 " to fairer worlds on high." 
 
 It seems but as yesterday when she 
 
 " flung her white arms round" 
 
 me, and our mutual language to each other was : 
 
 " Thou art all that this poor heart can cling to." 
 
 The address of Dr. Church, commanded the silence and admiration of 
 the multitude who heard it. This extract from it should be read or recited, 
 under the influence of " the awful emotions awakened by the conscious 
 presence of etherial spirits." 
 
 24 
 
£79 SELECT PIECES 
 
 124. Reflections on the Death of a Frienb. — Caroline 
 
 Matilda. 
 
 1. Of blasted expectations, withering joys, 
 Of bliss departed and a friend deceased, 
 
 " Sing, heavenly muse." My guide, preceptor, friend, 
 Whose glowing heart with fine sensation fraught, 
 Knew how to estimate the worth of mind, 
 My friend is dead ! He knew himself to sing, 
 And wake the "living lyre" in strains so sweet 
 That Music's self might listen and approve. 
 
 2. Enwrapt in ecstasy, his hand could swell 
 The full ton'd organ, or the grave bassoon, 
 In strains of moral music. He could touch 
 The lively viol, or symphonious lute, 
 
 And while his fingers swept the trembling strings, 
 Sadness was soothed, and melancholy smiled ; 
 Nor less harmonious was his dulcet voice. 
 Nor less his heart with fine emotion glowed, 
 When, at his bidding, every vocal power 
 Was called to action, in ascribing praise 
 To Him, to whom all voices should ascend 
 In loud unceasing anthems. 
 
 3. But no more 
 
 This voice is heard. His rapture-beaming eye 
 Is closed for ever in the sleep of death ! 
 His lyre is broken, and his harp, unstrung, 
 Forgotten lies — save when the mournful breeze, 
 In dying cadence, sighs among the strings, 
 And wakes the tones of wo/ 
 
 4. But is his voice 
 For ever silent ? Will he wake no more ? 
 Is that etherial fire for ever quenched % 
 
 For ever dead ? Hence, coward deist, hence ! 
 And hence ye vain and skeptic theories. 
 Still let me live, and let me die a Christian ; 
 For he whose memory inspires my lay, 
 In all the triumph of a Christian died. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 279 
 
 5. See through the gloom that hovers round his grave, 
 An angel form appears. Upon her brow 
 
 Sits smiling peace, and in her hand she bears 
 The charter of immortal blessedness, 
 The sacred volume, whose unerring page 
 Declares that " life and immortality- 
 Are brought to light." 'Tis blest religion ; 
 The shades of death disperse at her approach, 
 And hope enchanted smiles. 
 
 6. I sorrow then, 
 Not without hope, for we shall meet again, 
 Again shall mingle voices, while our hearts 
 .Shall join the perfect songs of seraphim. 
 Thou too, Eliza, let thy widow'd heart 
 Exult in glorious hope ; the star, that sets 
 Beyond the western wave, is not extinct ; 
 
 It brightens in another hemisphere, 
 And gilds another evening with its rays. 
 
 7. O glorious hope of immortality I 
 
 At thought of thee, the coffin and the tomb 
 Affright no more, and e'en the monster, Death, 
 Loses his fearful form, and seems a friend. 
 At thought of thee, my eager, glowing heart 
 Lets go its hold on sublunary bliss, 
 And longs to drop this cumbrous clog of earth, 
 And soar to bliss unfading and secure. 
 
 8. Exist for ever ! O, transporting thought ! 
 When countless ages shall have roll'd away, 
 And time shall cease, the deathless energies 
 Of heaven-born mind, all changes shall survire, 
 And never die. 
 
 9 Oh, infidelity, 
 
 What solace canst thou offer to the soul, 
 
 In all the sad vicissitude of grief, 
 
 That pains the feeling heart? Will thy sad dream 
 
 Of dread annihilation, sooth the heart 
 
 That mourns for friends departed ? Will it cheer 
 
 The fearful hour, when pale, relentless death 
 
280 SELECT PIECES 
 
 Dissolves the tie^ of nature ? Then the Christian 
 Can lift his head exulting, and behold 
 A blest re-union in a world of bliss ! 
 
 10. Oh thou eternal Source of light and life, 
 
 From whom all beings came, — instruct my heart 
 To bow submissive to thy sovereign will, 
 And bless the hand that blasts my rising hopes 
 Of earthly bliss, and draws me to Thyself. 
 
 11. When that dear friend, to whom I consecrate 
 This pensive lay, first taught my youthful voice 
 The enrapt'ring powers of sacred harmony, 
 He bade me consecrate my vocal powers, 
 
 My heart, my voice, to great Jehovah's praise. 
 
 12. And now, if spirits of the good, can view 
 
 The scenes they left, and friends they loved below, 
 O, shade lamented, hear the solemn vow ! 
 While here I dedicate my heart, my voice, 
 My life, my lyre, to that eternal Power 
 Who, from primeval nothing, bade me live, 
 And bade me live to Him. And when my heart 
 Forgets the sacred theme, oh, may it cease 
 Its regular vibrations, and my hand 
 Forget its cunning. 
 
 13. Sainted shade, farewell ! 
 Fain would my muse pursue thy towering flight. 
 And track thy mounting spirit as it soars 
 Above the stars ; but yet for me remain 
 
 A few more conflicts, and a few more tears, 
 By native feeling wrung ; then the bright morn 
 Of bliss immortal shall arise, and peace 
 For ever and for ever shall be mine. 
 
 14. Then death-divided friends shall part no more. 
 Then shall we join the bright angelic choir, 
 And swell the choral song ; while not one note 
 Discordant or untuneful, shall disturb 
 
 The full, harmonic, heavenly, holy lay. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 281 
 
 This beautiful and sublime poem appeared in the winter of 1818 in the 
 Methodist Magazine, furnished me by John D. Gillett, and published at 
 New- York, where the writer resided. The same year, it contained two 
 other poems, over the signature of Caroline Matilda, (her name was Car- 
 oline Matilda Thayer) one called " The Day of Judgment," the other, 
 " Choose God for your Portion." This is decidedly superior to either of 
 those ; and it appears to me to possess much merit, both in sentiment and 
 style. It relates to the most interesting and important subject, that ever 
 can agitate the human mind. The adage that " poetry proves nothing," 
 is not true. This poem answers correctly, and in the most glowing man- 
 ner, the great question which 
 
 " The holy instinct of the heart," 
 
 prompts us to ask, and which the scriptures themselves propound : " If a 
 man die, shall he live again % n It speaks of the eternal re-union of Chris- 
 tians in heaven, and so does the word of God. 
 
 " They sin who tell us love can die — 
 With life all other passions fly ; 
 But this — a flame that ever burneth, 
 From heaven it came, to heaven returneth." 
 
 The elocution of this piece should be dignified and solemn. 
 
 125. Education the Principle of all Prosperity. — Rev. 
 Robert Hall. 
 
 1. Knowledge in general, expands the mind, exalts the 
 faculties, refines the taste of pleasure, and opens innumerable 
 sources of intellectual enjoyment. By means of it, we become 
 less dependent for satisfaction upon the sensitive appetites ; the 
 gross pleasures of sense are more easily despised, and we are 
 made to feel the superiority of the spiritual to the material part 
 of our nature. Instead of being continually solicited by the 
 influence and irritation of sensible objects, the mind can retire 
 within herself, and expatiate in the cool and quiet walks of 
 contemplation. 
 
 2. The poor man who can read, and who possesses a taste 
 for reading, can find entertainment at home, without being 
 tempted to repair to the public house, for that purpose. His 
 mind can find him employment, when his body is at rest ; he 
 does not lie prostrate and afloat on the current of incidentS| 
 
 24* 
 
282 SELECT PIECES 
 
 liable to be carried withersoever the impulse of appetite may 
 direct. 
 
 3. There is in the mind of such a man an intellectual spring, 
 urging him to the pursuit of mental good ; and if the minds 
 of his family are also cultivated, conversation becomes the 
 more interesting, and the sphere of domestic enjoyment en- 
 larged. The calm satisfaction which books afford, puts him 
 into a disposition to relish more exquisitely, the tranquil de- 
 light inseparable from the indulgence of conjugal and parental 
 affection ; and as he will be more respectable in the eyes of 
 his family, than he who can teach them nothing, he will be 
 naturally induced to cultivate whatever may preserve, and 
 shun whatever may impair, that respect. 
 
 4. He who is inured to reflection, will carry his views be- 
 yond the present hour ; he will extend his prospect into futurity, 
 and be disposed to make some provision for his approaching 
 wants ; whence will result an increased motive to industry, 
 together with a care to husband his earnings, and to avoid un- 
 necessary expense. The poor man who has gained a taste for 
 good books, will, in all likelihood, become thoughtful, and 
 when you have given the poor a habit of thinking, you have 
 conferred on them a much greater favor than by the gift of a 
 large sum of money, since you have put them in possession 
 of the principle of all legitimate prosperity. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Hall, from one of whose sermons these excellent remarks, 
 in favor of intellectual culture, are taken, was a finished preacher, and a 
 tasteful and able writer. He was born at Arnsby, near Leicester, May 
 2d, 1764, and died February 21st, 1831. He was so embarrassed during 
 the delivery of his first discourse, that he put both hands over his face, 
 and, resuming his seat, said : " O, I have lost all my ideas." But oratory 
 being " in him," as was the case with Sheridan ; and, possessing untiring 
 industry, notwithstanding this failure in his first attempt at public speak- 
 ing, he became " the prince of pulpit orators." His eloquence held at will 
 his hearers " spell bound and breathless," or " dissolved them in floods of 
 sympathy." One Saturday evening, while he was preparing himself to 
 discharge the professional duties of the approaching Sunday, a young man, 
 a member of his congregation, called at his house, and wished to speak 
 with him. Upon being told that Mr. Hall was in his study deeply en- 
 gaged, he said that his business was urgent, and that he " must see him." 
 He was admitted into the study, where he said to Mr. Hall, " I think I 
 have a talent for public speaking, and I do not wish to hide it in a nap- 
 kin, — I wish to devote it wholly to the Christian ministry." After briefly 
 examining him, as to his intellectual powers, and general information, Mr. 
 Hall said : " Go home, young man, your talent will not need a napkin ; 
 the smallest pocket handkerchief in the house will be sufficiently large 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 283 
 
 for it." This may, or may not have been judicious advice. It is not very 
 material whether it was or not, for 
 
 " There's a divinity that shapes our ends, 
 Rough hew them how we will." 
 
 Mr. Hall was right in admiring Plato's definition of education, as "that 
 which qualifies men to be good citizens, and renders them fit to govern or 
 to obey." This is decidedly the best ever given. Education is valuable 
 so far, and so far only, as it tends to produce that result. And that is the 
 legitimate and natural consequence of the harmonious culture of the intel- 
 lectual faculties, and moral feelings of our nature. To be properly edu- 
 cated is, to be a good citizen,— is not only to have the ability " to govern," 
 but also the disposition " to obey," those municipal laws, which " com- 
 mand what is right, and prohibit what is wrong." At various periods in 
 our history, mobocrats have set at defiance, both the laws of our country, 
 and those of God. But these laws will eventually triumph. A spirit of 
 insubordination and mobocracy may, for a time, in some sections, as when 
 in days of old, " the fountains of the great deep were broken up, rise fif- 
 teen cubits" above all our constituted and broad-based authorities; and as 
 its waters spread, they may be streaked with blood, yet the countrymen of 
 Washington, if rightly educated, will ultimately sustain the supreme laws 
 of the land. 
 
 126. Character of George Washington. — Thomas Jefferson. 
 
 1. His mind was great and powerful, without being of the 
 very first order ; his penetration strong, though not so acute 
 as that of Newton, Bacon, or Locke : and, as far as he saw, 
 no judgment was ever sounder. It was slow in operation, 
 being little aided by invention or imagination ; but sure in 
 conclusion. Hence it was the common remark of his officers, 
 of the advantage he derived from the councils of war, where, 
 bearing all suggestions, he selected whatever was best ; and, 
 certainly, no general ever planned his battles more judiciously. 
 
 2. But if deranged during the course of action ; if any 
 member of his plan was dislocated by sudden circumstances, 
 he was slow in re-adjustment. The consequences were, that 
 he often failed in the field ; and rarely against an enemy in 
 station, as at Boston and York. He was incapable of fear, 
 meeting personal dangers with the calmest unconcern. Per- 
 haps the strongest feature in his character, was prudence ; 
 never acting until every circumstance, every consideration, 
 was maturely weighed ; refraining, if he saw a doubt ; but 
 
284 SELECT PIECES 
 
 when once decided, going through with his purpose, whatever 
 obstacles opposed. ^ 
 
 3. His integrity was the most pure ; his justice, the most 
 inflexible. I have never known any motives of interest, or 
 consanguinity, or friendship, or hatred, being able to bias his 
 decision. He was, indeed, in every sense of the word, a wise, 
 a good, and a great man. His temper was naturally irritable 
 and high toned ; but reflection and resolution had obtained a 
 firm and habitual ascendancy over it. If ever, however, it 
 broke its bounds, he was tremendous in his wrath. 
 
 4. His heart was not warm in its affections ; but he exactly 
 calculated every man's value, and gave him a solid esteem, 
 proportionate to it. His person was fine ; his stature, exactly 
 what one would wish ; his deportment, easy, erect, and noble ; 
 the best horseman of his age ; and the most graceful figure 
 that could be seen on horseback. Although, in the circle of 
 friends, where he might be unreserved with safety, he took a 
 free share in conversation, his colloquial talents were not 
 above mediocrity, possessing neither copiousness of ideas, nor 
 fluency of words. 
 
 5. In public, when called upon for a sudden opinion, he 
 was unready, short, and embarrassed. Yet he wrote readily, 
 rather diffusely, in correct style. This he had acquired by 
 conversation with the world ; for his education was merely 
 reading, writing, and common arithmetic, to which he added 
 surveying at a later day. His time was employed in action 
 chiefly, reading little, and that only in agricultural and En- 
 glish history. 
 
 6. His correspondence became necessarily extensive ; and, 
 with journalizing his agricultural proceedings, occupied most 
 of his leisure hours within doors. On the whole, his character 
 was, in its mass, perfect; in nothing, bad; in few points, 
 indifferent ; and, it may truly be said, that never did nature 
 and fortune combine more perfectly to make a great man, and 
 to place him in the same constellation with whatever worthies 
 have merited from man, and everlasting remembrance. 
 
 7. For his was the singular destiny of leading the armies 
 of his country successfully through an arduous war, for the 
 establishment of its independence ; of conducting its councils 
 through the birth of a government, new in its forms and prin- 
 ciples, until it had settled down in a quiet and orderly train ; 
 and of scrupulously obeying the laws through the whole of its 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 285 
 
 career, civil and military, of which the history of the world 
 furnishes no other example. 
 
 George Washington was the founder of the North American republic, 
 the first president of the United States, and an incorruptible patriot. His 
 name needs no panegyric. It will live for ever in the hearts of his coun- 
 trymen. His fame rests on the adamant of good deeds. His best eulogy 
 will be an imitation of his glorious example. It constitutes the most val- 
 uable portion of our national capital. His memory is immortal. To 
 Washington, under God, we chiefly owe the manifold blessings of national 
 independence and religious liberty. If, therefore, gratitude be due on earth, 
 it is due to him. Let it fill every heart with thrilling exultation, and as- 
 cend to the holy habitation of Divinity. How large were his sacrifices 
 of time, treasure, and care ! How gloriously did he withstand the tempt- 
 ing whispers of demagogues ! How great was the intrepidity with which 
 he dared the tyrant's rage ! With what fearlessness did he, before high 
 heaven, renounce all allegiance to George III and the British constitution ! 
 With what wisdom he administered the United States' government ! 
 With what fairness and fidelity, he made and maintained treaties ! And 
 with what moral sublimity, did he live and die ! Let the history of his 
 life answer. That is a bright and cheering picture upon which we should 
 gaze and scan, until our minds take the hu^of the splendors we contem- 
 plate. The city of Thebes rose to sudden elevation, through the instru- 
 mentality of Epaminondas ; but the moment of his dissolution was the 
 moment of her fall. Like Epaminondas, the brightest name of all anti- 
 quity, Washington, the peculiar pride of modern times, exalted the glory 
 of his country. But here the comparison ends. The monuments of 
 Thebes are crumbled in dust, and republicanism there slumbers in the 
 grave of oblivion ; but America still maintains the high and happy ground 
 on which Washington placed her. The banner, which, under his auspi- 
 ces, waved in triumph over British tyranny, still mingles its folds with the 
 stars and stripes of the union, Let the spirit of Washington's patriotism 
 pervade the people, and the republic, through all time, is safe. 
 
 127. The Last Hours of Washington. — G. W. P. Custis. 
 
 1. Twenty-eight years have passed since an interesting 
 group were assembled in the death-room, and witnessed the 
 last hours of Washington. So keen and unsparing hath been 
 the scythe of time, that of all those who watched over the pa- 
 triarch's couch, on the 13th and 14th of December, 1799, but 
 a single personage survives. 
 
 2. On the morning of the 13th, the General was engaged 
 in making some improvements in the front of Mount Vernon. 
 As was usual^ with him } he carried his own compass, noticed 
 
286 SELECT PIECES 
 
 
 his observations, and jnarked out the ground. The day be- 
 came rainy with sleet ; and the improver remained so long 
 exposed to the inclemency of the weather, as to be considerably 
 wetted before his return to the house. About one o'clock, he 
 was seized with chillness and nausea, but having changed his 
 clothes, he sat down to his in-door work, — there being no 
 moment of his time for which he had not provided an appro- 
 priate employment. 
 
 3. At night, on joining his family circle, the General com- 
 plained of a slight indisposition ; and, after a single cup of tea, 
 repaired to his library, where he remained writing until be- 
 tween 11 and 12 o'clock. Mrs. Washington retired about 
 the usual hour, but becoming alarmed at not hearing the ac- 
 customed sound of the library door as it closed for the night, 
 and gave signal for rest in the well regulated mansion, she 
 rose again, and continued sitting up, in much anxiety and 
 suspense. At length, the well known step was heard on the 
 stair, and upon the General's entering his chamber, the lady 
 chided him for staying up so late, knowing him to be unwell ; 
 to which Washington made this memorable reply : " I came 
 as soon as my business was accomplished. You well know, 
 that through a long life, it has been my unvaried rule, never 
 to put off till the morrow, the duties which should be per- 
 formed to-day." 
 
 4. Having first covered the fire with care, the man of 
 mighty labors sought repose ; but it came not, as it long had 
 been wont to do, to comfort and restore after the many earnest 
 occupations of the well spent day. The night was passed in 
 feverish restlessness and pain. " Tired nature's sweet restorer, 
 balmy sleep," was destined no more to visit his couch ; yet 
 the manly sufferer uttered no complaint, would permit no one 
 to be disturbed in their rest, on his account ; and it was only 
 at day-break he would consent that the overseer might be 
 called in, and bleeding resorted to. A vein was opened, but 
 no relief afforded. 
 
 5. Couriers were despatched to Dr. Craik, the family phy- 
 sician, and Drs. Dick and Brown, as consulting physicians, 
 all of whom came with speed. The proper remedies were 
 administered, but without producing their healing effects; 
 while the patient, yielding to the anxious looks of all around 
 him, waived his usual objections to medicines, and took those 
 which were prescribed, without hesitation or remark. The 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 287 
 
 medical gentlemen spared not their skill, and all the resources 
 of their art were exhausted in unwearied endeavors, to pre- 
 serve this noblest work of nature. 
 
 6. The night approached, — the last night of Washington ; 
 the weather became severely cold, while the group gathered 
 nearer the couch of the sufferer, watching with intense anxiety 
 for the slightest dawning of hope. He spoke but little. To 
 the respectful and affectionate inquiries of an old family ser- 
 vant, as she smoothed down his pillow, how he felt, he an- 
 swered : "I am very ill." To Dr. Craik, his earliest com- 
 panion in arms, longest tried, and bosom friend, he observed: 
 " I am dying, sir — but I am not afraid to die." 
 
 7. To Mrs. Washington he said : " Go to my escritoir and 
 in my private drawer you will find two papers ; bring them 
 to me." They were brought. He continued : " These are 
 my wills,- — preserve this one, and burn the other ;" which 
 was accordingly done. Calling to Col. Lear, he directed ; 
 " Let my corpse be kept for the usual period of three days." 
 
 8. Washington was old fashioned in some of his opinions ; 
 nor is he less to be admired on that account. The custom 
 of keeping the dead for the scriptural period of three days, 
 is derived from remote antiquity; and arose, not from fear 
 of premature interment, as in more modern times, but from 
 motives of veneration towards the deceased ; for the better 
 enabling the relatives and friends to assemble from a dis- 
 tance, to perform the funeral rites ; for the pious watchings 
 of the corpse, and*Tor many sad, yet endearing ceremonies, 
 with which we delight to pay our last duties, to the remains 
 of those we loved. 
 
 9. The patient bore his acute suffering with fortitude, and 
 perfect resignation to the Divine will, while, as the night ad- 
 vanced, it became evident that he was sinking, and he seemed 
 fully aware that "his hour was nigh." He inquired the time, 
 and was answered, a few minutes to twelve. He spoke no 
 more, — the han'd of death was upon him, and he was conscious 
 that " his hour was come." With surprising self-possession, 
 he prepared to die. Composing his form at length, and fold- 
 ing his arms upon his bosom, without a sigh, without a groan, 
 the father of his country died. No pang nor struggle told 
 when the noble spirit took its noiseless flight ; while so tran- 
 quil appeared the manly features in the repose of death, that 
 
688 SELECT PIECES 
 
 some moments hacLpassed, ere those around could believe 
 that the patriarch was no more. 
 
 General Washington died December 14th, with an inflammatory affec- 
 tion of the windpipe. On Wednesday, the 18th, his body was deposited 
 in the family vault. On the arrival of the news of his death at Philadel- 
 phia, congress immediately adjourned. The senate addressed a letter to 
 the president, John Adams, in which they say : " Permit us sir, to mingle 
 our tears with yours. On this occasion, it is manly to weep. To lose such 
 a man at such a crisis, is no common calamity to the world. Our country 
 mourns a father. The Almighty Disposer of events has taken from ua 
 our greatest benefactor and ornament. It becomes us to submit with rev- 
 erence to Him who maketh darkness his pavilion. With patriotic pride, 
 we review the life of Washington, and compare him with those of other 
 countries who have been preeminent in favor. Ancient and modern names 
 are diminished before him. Greatness and guilt have too often been allied ; 
 but Ms fame is whiter than it is brilliant. The destroyers of nations stood 
 abashed at his virtues. It reproved the intemperance of their ambition, 
 and darkened the splendor of victory. The scene is closed and we are 
 no longer anxious lest misfortune should sully his glory. He has travelled 
 on to the end of his journey, and carried with him an increasing weight 
 of honor. He has deposited it safely where misfortune cannot tarnish it ; 
 "where malice cannot blast it. Favored of heaven, he departed without 
 exhibiting the weakness of humanity ; magnanimous in death, the dark- 
 ness of the grave could not obscure his brightness." The president wrote 
 a letter of condolence to Mrs. Washington. An eloquent funeral oration 
 Was delivered at the city of Washington by Gen. Henry Lee. The citi- 
 tens of the United States wore crape on the left arm for thirty days. 
 Many other funeral orations were delivered by the most intelligent and 
 accomplished men in America. Our Washington's fame is not confined 
 to this country. The following letter was voluntarily addressed to Gene- 
 ral Washington by the late Lord Chancellor Ersl^£ of England. It was 
 found among Lord Erskine's papers after his decease : 
 
 " London, March 15, 1785. 
 I have taken the liberty to introduce your august and immortal name in 
 a short sentence, which will be found in the book I sent to you. I have 
 a large acquaintance among the most valuable and exalted classes of men j 
 but you are the only human being for whom I ever felt an awful rever- 
 ence. I sincerely pray God to grant a long and serene evening to a life 
 so gloriously devoted to the universal happiness of the world. 
 
 T. Erskine." 
 
 Lord Brougham pronounces him to have been " great, preeminently 
 great;" and he truly and eloquently observes: "Until time shall be no 
 more, will a test of the progress, which our race has made in wisdom and 
 In virtue be derived from the veneration paid to the immortal name of 
 Washington." 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 289 
 
 128. Education Essential both in Time of War and 
 Peace. — Gen. Francis Marion. 
 
 1. Among a people who fear God, the knowledge of duty 
 is the same as doing it. Believing it to be the first command 
 of God, " let there be light ;" and believing it to be the will of 
 God, that " all should be instructed, from the least to the 
 greatest," these wise legislators at once set about public instruc- 
 tion. They did not ask, How will my constituents like this? 
 wont they turn me out ? shall I not lose my three dollars per 
 day? No! but fully persuaded that public instruction is 
 God's will, because the people's good, they set about it like the 
 true friends of the people. 
 
 2. In the land of free schools, — Bunker's Hill, behind a 
 poor ditch of half a night's raising, we behold fifteen hundred 
 militia-men waiting the approach of three thousand British 
 regulars with a heavy train of artillery ! With such fearful 
 odds in numbers, discipline, arms, and martial fame, against 
 them, will they not shrink from the contest ; and, through lack 
 of knowledge of their blessings possessed, of the dangers 
 threatened, jump up and run ! 
 
 3. Oh no ; to a man they have been taught to read; to a 
 man they have been instructed to know, and dearer than life 
 to prize, the blessings of freedom. Their bodies are lying be- 
 hind ditches, but their thoughts are on the wing, darting 
 through eternity. The warning voice of God still rings in 
 their ears. The hated forms of proud merciless kings pass 
 before their eyes. They look back at the days of old, and 
 strengthen themselves, as they think what their gallant fore- 
 fathers dared for liberty, and for them. They looked forward 
 to their own dear children, and yearn over the unoffending 
 millions, now, in tearful eyes, looking up to them for protection. 
 
 4. And shall this infinite host of deathless beings, created 
 in God's own image, and capable by virtue and equal laws of 
 endless progression in glory and happiness, be arrested in their 
 high career, and from the free-born sons of God, be degraded 
 into the slaves of man ? Maddening at the accursed thought, 
 they grasp their avenging firelocks, and drawing their sights 
 along the death-charged tubes, they long for the coming up of 
 the British thousands. Three times the British thousands 
 tame up, and three times the dauntless yeomen, waiting their 
 
 25 
 
£9T) SELECT PIECES 
 
 near approach received them in storms of thunder and light- 
 ning that shivered their ranks, and heaped the field with their 
 weltering carcasses. ♦ 
 
 5. Men will always fight for their government, according 
 to their sense of its, value. To value it aright, they must under- 
 stand it. This they cannot do without education. And as a 
 large portion of the citizens are poor, and can never attain 
 that inestimable blessing, without the aid of government, it is 
 plainly the first duty of government to bestow it freely upon 
 them. And the more perfect the government, the greater the 
 duty to make it well known. 
 
 6. Selfish and oppressive governments, indeed, as Christ ob- 
 serves, must " hate the light and fear to come to it, because 
 their deeds are evil." But a fair and cheap government, like 
 our republic, " longs for the light and rejoices to come to the, 
 light, that it may be manifested to be from God," and well 
 worth all the vigilance and valor that an enlightened nation 
 can rally for its defence. 
 
 7. And God knows a good government can hardly ever be 
 half anxious enough to give its citizens a thorough knowledge 
 of its own excellences. For as some of the most valuable 
 truths, for lack of careful promulgation, have been lost ; so the 
 best government on earth, if not duly known and prized, may 
 be subverted. Ambitious demagogues will rise, and the people, 
 through ignorance, and love of change, will follow them. Vast 
 armies will be formed and bloody battles fought. And after 
 desolating their country with all the horrors of civil war, the 
 guilty survivors will have to bend their necks to the iron yoke 
 of some stern usurper ; and, like beasts of burden, to drag, 
 nnpitied, those galling chains, which they have riveted upon 
 themselves for ever. 
 
 Francis Marion was born in the year 1732, in St. John's Parish, South 
 Carolina. He was a celebrated and patriotic officer in the revolutionary 
 War. The above observations on the beneficial effects of education, in 
 achieving our independence, as well as in perpetuating the existence of 
 our government, are taken from a book called " Weems' Marion j" the 
 motto of which is : 
 
 " On Vernon's chief, why lavish all our lays 1 
 Come honest muse, and sing great Marion's praise." 
 
 General Marion says : " Religion teaches us that God created men to 
 be happy ; that to be happy they must have virtue, that virtue is not to be 
 attained without knowledge, nor knowledge without instruction, nor 
 public instruction without free schools, nor free schools without legislative 
 order." 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 291 
 
 129. Lord Ullin's Daughter. — Thomas Campbell. 
 
 1. A chieftain to the Highlands bound, 
 
 Cries, " Boatman, do not tarry ! 
 And I'll give thee a silver pound, 
 To row us o'er the ferry." 
 
 2. " Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle, 
 
 This dark and stormy water?" 
 " O, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, 
 And this, Lord Ullin's daughter. 
 
 3. " And fast before her fathers men 
 
 Three days we've fled together, 
 For should he find us in the glen, 
 My blood would stain the heather. 
 
 4. " His horsemen hard behind us ride ; 
 
 Should they our steps discover, 
 Then who will cheer my bonny bride 
 When they have slain her lover ?* 
 
 5. Out spoke the hardy Highland wight, 
 
 " I'll go, my chief, I'm ready ; 
 It is not for your silver bright, 
 But for your winsome lady. 
 
 6. u And by my word, the bonny bird 
 
 In danger shall not tarry ; 
 So though the waves are raging white, 
 I'll row you o'er the ferry." 
 
 7. By this the storm grew loud apace, 
 
 The water wraith was shrieking, 
 And in the scowl of heaven each face 
 Grew dark as they were speaking. 
 
 8. But still as wilder blew the wind, 
 
 And as the night grew drearer, 
 Adown the glen rode armed men, 
 Their trampling sounded nearer. 
 
39'^ SELECT PIECES 
 
 9. u O, haste thee, haste !" the lady cries, 
 " Though" tempests round us gather, 
 I'll meet the raging of the skies, 
 But not an angry father." 
 
 10. The boat has left a stormy land, 
 
 A stormy sea before her — 
 When, O ! too strong for human hand, 
 The tempest gathered o'er her. 
 
 11. And still they rowed amidst the roar 
 
 Of waters fast prevailing ; 
 Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore, 
 His wrath was changed to wailing. 
 
 12. For sore dismayed, through storm and shade, 
 
 His child he did discover : 
 One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid, 
 And one was round her lover. 
 
 13. " Come back ! come back I" he cried in grief, 
 
 " Across the stormy water ; 
 And I'll forgive your Highland chief. 
 My daughter ! O my daughter 1" 
 
 14. 'Twas vain : the loud waves lash'd the shore, 
 
 Return or aid preventing : 
 The waters wild went o'er his child, 
 And he was left lamenting. 
 
 An individual ought not to be satisfied with giving the narrative part of 
 this piece well. Let him acquire the ability of representing, correctly, each 
 of the four persons, whom the poet introduces into it. To do that, the 
 reader or declaimer must imagine himself to be a chieftain, a boatman, ft 
 lady, and a lord, in quick succession ; and speak and act as individuals 
 would, under such exciting and dreadful circumstances, as are attributed 
 to those characters. The poet, while he wrote, in turn became each of 
 those persons : so must the reader. The pleasing variety, pathos, and 
 power with which the whole piece abounds, render it most excellent, fox 
 practice in reading and declamation. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 293 
 
 130. Reading Aloud.— Chambers* Edinburgh Journal. 
 
 1. We know of no accomplishment so valuable, as that of 
 reading "with good emphasis and discretion," of catching the 
 meaning and spirit of an author, and conveying them to 
 others with a distinct and intelligible utterance ; and yet, 
 strange to say, there is no department of modern education so 
 much neglected. Indeed, so general is this neglect, that 
 scarcely one young lady or gentleman in a dozen, who boast 
 of having "finished" their education, can, on being requested, 
 read aloud to a private company with that ease and graceful 
 modulation, which is necessary to the perfect appreciation of 
 the author. There is either a forced or unnatural mouthing, 
 a hesitating and imperfect articulation, or a monotony of tone 
 so thoroughly painful, that one listens with impatience, and is 
 glad when some excuse presents itself for his absence. 
 
 2. Whatever may be the imperfections of our school tuition, 
 this defect is rather to be attributed to a want of taste and 
 consequent neglect of practice on the part of grown-up indi- 
 viduals, than to any defect in their elementary training. — 
 There may be a deficiency of good models ; but the main 
 evil arises from the unequal value, which seems to be attached 
 to good reading, as compared with music, dancing, painting, 
 and other fashionable acquirements. Why it should be so, 
 we can discover no good cause, but, on the contrary, see many 
 substantial reasons why reading aloud should be cultivated, 
 as one of the most useful and attractive of domestic accom- 
 plishments. 
 
 3. To young ladies, for example, the habit of reading aloud 
 has much to recommend it. As mere exercise, it is highly 
 beneficial on account of the strength and vigor, which it con- 
 fers on the chest and lungs ; while the mental pleasure to be 
 derived therefrom is one of the most delightful, that can adorn 
 the family circle. Gathered round the winter's fire- or evening 
 lamp, what could be more cheerful for the aged and infirm, 
 what more instructive to the younger branches, or more exem- 
 plary to the careless, than the reading aloud of some enter- 
 taining author, and who could do this with greater grace or 
 more impressive effect than a youthful female ? 
 
 4. It requires no great effort to attain this art, no neglect 
 of music, painting or other accomplishment ; it is, in fact, xnoro 
 
 25* 
 
294 SELECT PIECES 
 
 a practice than a study, and one which the interest excited by 
 new books and periodicals, would always prevent from be- 
 coming dull or tiresome. Were females of all ranks to adopt 
 the practice more than they do at present, they would bind to 
 their homes many who are otherwise disposed to go in search 
 of unworthy enjoyments, and would add another chain of 
 delightful associations, wherewith to attach the young to the 
 family hearth. Another advantage Avhich it would confer on 
 the fair readers themselves, would be the improved utterance 
 and intonation, which correct reading would produce, instead 
 of that simpering and lisping which are so often to be met with 
 even among females of the higher classes. 
 
 5. To young men preparing for professional labors, the art 
 of reading aloud is indispensable ; and though not equally 
 necessary to what are called business-men, still to such, it is 
 a becoming and valuable acquirement. Ask your son, who 
 has lately gone to the counting-room, to read you the last 
 debate in Parliament, and ten to one he will rattle through it 
 with such a jumbling indistinctness of utterance, that you are 
 glad when his hour calls him away, and leaves you to the 
 quiet enjoyment of self perusal. 
 
 6. And why is this? Simply because the youth has never 
 been taught to regard reading aloud in the light of a graceful 
 accomplishment. At school he learned to know his words> 
 and that was so far useful ; but to read as a gentleman, in the 
 spirit and meaning of the author, this is what he has yet to 
 acquire by the imitation of good models, and by frequent 
 practice. That the art of reading aloud, is at the low ebb wc 
 mention, any one can readily convince himself, by requesting 
 his friend to read for him the last speech of the British premier f 
 or message of the American president. Twenty to one he 
 will find his friend an apt enough scholar, but a careless and 
 indifferent enunciator — one who has all along read for him- 
 self, and whose only object has been merely to acquire the 
 meaning of the works he perused. 
 
 7. Singing for the million is cried up on all hands, — why 
 not reading aloud ? What Mainzer has accomplished for the 
 one art, might be effected for the other. We have in almost 
 every family and workshop, evidence of what practice in con- 
 cert has done for vocal music — why not the same for reading 
 aloud 1 The one art is chiefly valued as an amusement and 
 refining accomplishment — the other is equally entertaining, 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 295 
 
 quite as necessary for the adornment of public or private life, 
 and certainly more directly productive of utility and knowledge. 
 
 The low state of elocution both in England and America, proceeds 
 chiefly from the defective method heretofore adopted in teaching it in 
 schools, academies, and colleges. There is also in both countries, a great 
 " deficiency of good models." An eloquent lawyer in the city of Roches- 
 ter, John C. Chumasero, Esq. elegantly and truly remarks: "The differ- 
 ent intonations, cadences, and inflections of the human voice, so indispen- 
 sable to the accomplished orator, are to. be acquired only by indefatigable 
 study, practical effort, and the most assiduous and strict attention, under 
 the guidance and instruction of a teacher competent and qualified to un- 
 fold their various beauties, rendering them and the science with which 
 they are connected, equally beneficial and interesting, to the man of busi- 
 ness, the student, the statesman, and the divine." The following remarks 
 of Mr. Sheridan in his lectures on the " Art of Reading," are as true of our 
 own country as of England : " I appeal to the experience of mankind, 
 whether in general any thing else be taught, but the pronunciation of 
 words, and the observation of the stops. We are taught to deliver our 
 own exercises, or the works of others, with little or no variation of voice, 
 or else with some disagreeable, discordant cant, applied to all sentences 
 alike." The business of teaching the various branches of education is 
 laborious, but in the language of the author of " Essays to do Good," "it 
 is most pleasing to Goal." 
 
 CONTRACTS WITH TEACHERS OF COMMON SCHOOLS. 
 
 " The most fruitful source of difficulty in school districts, and applica- 
 tions to the superintendent, has been the looseness and irregularity with 
 which these contracts have been made." " It is strongly recommended, 
 that all contracts with teachers be made in writing, and a duplicate kept 
 by each party. In no other way can justice be done to the parties in case 
 of any dispute." Extract from the N. Y. superintendent's instructions, 
 pages 141, 142. 
 
 For the convenience of trustees and teachers, I insert the following 
 general form of a contract between them : 
 
 "This agreement, made the day of eighteen hundred and 
 
 between A. B., C. D. and E. F., trustees of school district No 
 
 in the town of county of and state of of the one part. 
 
 and G. H., of the other part, witnesseth, that the said G. H. hath agreed 
 and hereby doth undertake, to take charge of the school in said district, to 
 instruct the pupils therein in the branches of education usually taught in 
 district schools in the said county, [or town,] and generally to administer 
 and govern the said school as teacher thereof, according to the best of his 
 
 ability, for the term of to commence on the day of 
 
 and also during the said term, to comply with all the regulations and re- 
 quirements of the laws of this state and the school officers having juris- 
 diction within said district. And for his services as such teacher of said 
 school, during the said term, the said trustees do hereby agree to pay to tho 
 
 said G. H dollars. Witness our hands on the day and year first 
 
 above written." 
 
296 SELECT PIECES 
 
 131. Thai^atopsis. — William C. Bryant 
 
 1. To him who in the love of nature, holds 
 Communion with her .visible forms, she speaks 
 A various language. For his gayer hours 
 She has a voice of gladness, and a smile, 
 And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides 
 Into his dark musings, with a mild 
 
 And gentle sympathy, that steals away 
 Their sharpness, ere he is aware. 
 
 2. When thoughts 
 Of the last bitter hour, come like a blight 
 Over thy spirit, and sad images 
 
 Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, 
 
 And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, 
 
 Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart, — 
 
 Go forth into the open sky, and list 
 
 To Nature's teachings, while from all around — 
 
 Earth, and her waters, and the depths of air — 
 
 Comes a still voice : — Yet a few days, and thee, 
 
 The all-beholding sun shall see no more 
 
 In all its course. 
 
 3. Nor yet in the cold ground 
 Where the pale form was laid, with many tears, 
 Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist 
 
 Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim 
 
 Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again j 
 
 And, lost each human trace, surrendering up 
 
 Thine individual being, shalt thou go 
 
 To mix forever with the elements, 
 
 To be a brother to the insensible rock, 
 
 And the sluggish clod, which the rude swain 
 
 Turns with his share, and treads upon. 
 
 4. The oak 
 Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould. 
 Yet not to thy eternal resting place 
 
 Shalt thou retire alone, — nor couldst thou wish 
 Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 297 
 
 With patriarchs of the infant world, with kings, 
 The powerful of the earth, the wise, the good, 
 Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, 
 All in one mighty sepulchre. 
 
 5. The hills, 
 Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun ; the vales, 
 Stretching in pensive quietness between ; 
 The venerable woods ; rivers that move 
 
 In majesty ; and the complaining brooks 
 
 That make the meadows green ; and, poured round all, 
 
 Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — 
 
 Are but the solemn decorations all 
 
 Of the great tomb of man. 
 
 6. The golden sun, 
 The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, 
 Are shining on the sad abodes of death, 
 Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread 
 The globe, are but a handful to the tribes 
 That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings 
 Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, 
 
 Or lose thyself in the continuous woods 
 Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound 
 Save his own dashings, — yet, the dead are there ; 
 And millions in those solitudes, since first 
 The flight of years began, have laid them down 
 In their last sleep, — the dead reign there alone. 
 
 7. So shaft thou rest ; and what if thou shalt fall 
 Unnoticed by the living, and no friend 
 Take note of thy departure ? All that breathe 
 Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh 
 When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care 
 Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase 
 His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave 
 Their mirth and their employments, and shall come 
 And make their bed with thee. 
 
 As the long train 
 Of ages glides away, the sons of men, 
 The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes 
 
298 SELECT PIECES 
 
 In the full strength pf years, matron and maid, 
 The bowed with age, the infant in the smiles 
 And beauty of its innocent age, cut off, 
 Shall, one by one, be gathered to thy side, 
 By those, who, in their turn, shall follow them. 
 
 9. So live, that, when thy summons comes to join 
 The innumerable caravan that moves 
 To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take 
 His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
 Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night, 
 Scourged to his dungeon ; but, sustained and soothed 
 By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, 
 Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
 About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 
 
 William Cullen Bryant, by whom Thanatopsis was written, has been 
 justly styled the Thompson of America. His poetic effusions are deeply 
 imbued with the pathos of nature. The New-Yorker of April 16, 1836, 
 contains a valuable article on American poets, in the course of which it is 
 truly observed, that " Thanatopsis, the most beautiful among Bryant's pro- 
 ductions, though breathing the same spirit, we consider superior to the 
 poetry of Thompson, in the richness of its coloring, and the grouping of 
 its objects ; the imagery is concentrated and finished, chaste and smooth. 
 The poet, while standing by the grave of humanity, illumines its darkness 
 with the splendors of the universe, reconciles us to it by displaying its 
 various inhabitants, and closes the solemn sepulchral hymn, if so we may 
 call it, by warning us, in the language of poetic and moral eloquence, to 
 prepare for the final enemy — 
 
 As one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
 About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams." 
 
 The meaning of the word " Thanatopsis," is a view of death, — the 
 grave. It should be read on rather a low key, with slow time, long quan- 
 tity, and rhetorical pauses. After uttering the first word of the last line 
 in the fourth verse, such a pause should be made. This poem does not, as 
 some have supposed, inculcate the dark, the hopeless, and false doctrine, 
 that " death is an eternal sleep." The poet, in conclusion, conjures us so 
 to live, that when death comes, we may be 
 
 -" Sustained and soothed, 
 
 By an unfaltering trust." 
 
 Trust, in whom 1 God. Why 1 Because, " Blessed are the dead that 
 die in the Lord." 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 299 
 
 132. The Gambler's Wife. — Dr. Coats. 
 
 1. Dark is the night ! How dark ! No light ! No fire ! 
 Cold on the hearth, the last faint sparks expire ! 
 Shivering she watches by the cradle side, 
 For him who pledged her love — last year a bride ! 
 
 ) 
 
 2. " Hark! 'Tis his foot step ! — 'Tis past : Tis gone ; 
 Tick ! — Tick ! How wearily the time crawls on ! 
 Why should he leave me thus ? He once was kind ! 
 And I believed 'twould last — how mad ! — how blind. 
 
 3 Rest thee, my babe ! — Rest on ! — 'Tis hunger's cry I 
 Sleep !— For there is no food ! — The fount is dry ! 
 Famine and cold their wearying work have done, 
 My heart must break ! — And thou !" — the clock strikes one. 
 
 4. "Hush! 'tis the dice box! Yes, he's there, he's there, 
 For this ! — for this, he leaves me to despair ! 
 
 Leaves love ! leaves truth ! his wife ! his child ! for what ? 
 The wanton's smile — the villain — and the sot ! 
 
 5. Yet I'll not curse him ! No ! 'tis all in vain ! 
 'Tis long to wait, but sure he'll come again ! 
 And I could starve and bless him, but for you, 
 
 My child ! — his child ! — Oh. fiend !" The clock strikes two. 
 
 6. " Hark ! How the sign board creaks ! The blast howls by ! 
 Moan! Moan ! A dirge swells through the cloudy sky! 
 Ha ! 'tis his knock ! he comes ! — he comes once more ! 
 'Tis but the lattice flaps ! Thy hope is o'er ! 
 
 7. Can he desert me thus ? He knows I stay 
 Night after night in loneliness, to pray 
 For his return — and yet he sees no tear ! 
 No ! no ! It cannot be. He will be here. 
 
 8. Nestle more closely, dear one, to my heart ! 
 
 Thou'rt cold ! Thou'rt freezing ! But we will not part ! 
 
 Husband ! — I die ! — Father ! — It is not he ! 
 
 Oh God ! protect my child !" The clock strikes threa 
 
800 SELECT PIECES 
 
 9. They're gone ! they4e gone ! the glimmering spark hath 
 The wife and child are numbered with the dead ! [sped! 
 On the cold hearth outstretched in solemn rest. 
 The babe lay frozen on its mother's breast ! 
 The gambler came at last — but all was o'er — 
 Dead silence reigned around — the clock struck four! 
 
 This thrilling poetry was written by Dr. Coats, of Philadelphia, except 
 the concluding stanza, commencing " They*re gone," which is from the 
 pen of another accomplished gentleman. " Gambling and drunkenness 
 are two friends." When the great philosopher, Mr. Locke, perceived the 
 uncontrolled sway with which the vice of gaming, tyrannized over those 
 who habitually practised it, he declared it to be his opinion, that the best 
 way to avoid all temptation is, never to learn how to gamble. Most cer- 
 tainly, the best and only sure way to avoid excessive drinking, is never to 
 use a single glass of ardent spirits, nor any thing else that can intoxicate. 
 That loathsome weed, tobacco, is a dry dram, whose skill is, " To make 
 sound men sick, and sick men kill ;" and the only means an individual 
 can adopt, to stand aloof from the filthy practice of using it, is never to 
 acquire a taste for it. King James I, closes his royal counter- blast against 
 smoking and chewing tobacco, in the following just and strong language : 
 " It is a custom loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmful to the 
 brain, dangerous to the lungs ; and in the black, stinking fume thereof 
 nearest resembling the horrible Stygean smoke of the pit that is bottomless." 
 The venerable Dr. Waterhouse, of Cambridge, to whom I am indebted for 
 a pamphlet, containing the above extract, says, in his lecture delivered in 
 the University of Cambridge, on the evil tendency of the use of tobacco, 
 that " Many of the hectical habits and consumptive affections of the peo- 
 ple of the United States may be traced to the pernicious custom of smok- 
 ing cigars" 
 
 133. Pitt's Reply to Walpole. 
 
 i. The atrocious crime of being a young man, which the 
 honorable gentleman has, with such spirit and decency, charged 
 upon me, I shall neither attempt to palliate nor deny; but 
 content myself with wishing that I may be one of those, whose 
 follies may cease with their youth, and not of that number 
 who are ignorant in spite of experience. 
 
 2. Whether youth can be imputed to any man as a reproacji, 
 I will not, sir, assume the province of determining ; but surely, 
 age may become justly contemptible, if the opportunities 
 which it brings have passed away without improvement, and 
 vice appears to prevail when the passions have subsided. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 301 
 
 3. The wretch, who, after having seen the consequences of 
 a thousand errors, continues still to blunder, and whose age 
 has only added obstinacy to stupidity, is surely the object of 
 either abhorrence or contempt, and deserves not that his gray 
 hairs should securd him from insult. Much more, sir, is he 
 to be abhorred, who, as he advanced in age, has receded from 
 virtue, and becomes more wicked with less temptation ; who 
 prostitutes himself for money which he cannot enjoy, and 
 spends the remains of his life in the ruin of his country. 
 
 4. But youth, sir, is not my only crime ; I have been ac- 
 cused of acting a theatrical part. A theatrical part may either 
 imply some peculiarities of gesture, or a dissimulation of my 
 real sentiments, and an adoption of the opinions and language 
 of another man. 
 
 5. In the first sense, sir, the charge is too trifling to be con- 
 futed, and deserves only to be mentioned, to be despised. I 
 am at liberty, like every other man, to use my own language ; 
 and though, perhaps, I may have some ambition to please this 
 gentleman, I shall not lay myself under any restraint, nor 
 very solicitously copy his diction, or his mien, however ma- 
 tured by age, or modelled by experience. 
 
 6. If any man shall, by charging me with theatrical behavior, 
 imply that I utter any sentiments but my own, I shall treat 
 him as a calumniator and a villain; nor shall any protection 
 shelter him from the treatment he deserves. I shall, on such 
 an occasion, without scruple, trample upon all those forms with 
 which wealth and dignity intrench themselves ; nor shall any 
 thing but age, restrain my resentment — age, which always 
 brings one privilege, that of being insolent and supercilious 
 without punishment. 
 
 7. But with regard, sir, to those whom I have offended, I 
 am of opinion, that if I had acted a borrowed part, I should 
 have avoided their censure ; the beat that offended them is the 
 ardor of conviction, and that zeal for the service of my coun 
 try, which neither hope nor fear shall influence me to suppress. 
 I will not sit unconcerned while my liberty is invaded, nor 
 look in silence, upon public robbery. I will exert my en 
 deavors, at whatever hazard, to repel the aggressor, and drag 
 the thief to justice, whoever may protect them in their villain, 
 and whoever may partake of their plunder. 
 
 After Mr. Pitt, when he was a young member of the house of commons, 
 had finished a speech, delivered with great energy on an exciting topic, 
 26 
 
302 SELECT PIECES. 
 
 Mr. Walpole rose, and, among other things in which he charged the ora- 
 tor with youthful inexperience, and theatrical enunciation, said: "For- 
 midable sounds and furious declamation, confident assertions, and lofty 
 periods, may affect the young and inexperienced, and perhaps the honor- 
 able gentleman may have contracted his habits of oratory, by conversing 
 more with those of his own age, than with such as have had more oppor- 
 tunities of acquiring knowledge, and more successful methods of commu- 
 nicating their sentiments." The moment Mr. Walpole resumed his seat, 
 Mr. Pitt made the above masterly and eloquent reply. The young orator 
 spoke on the occasion with great power ; and as he delivered it, so should 
 it be read or recited. It requires a classical and manly style. 
 
 134. Conclusion of Cassius M. Clay's Speech, in 1846, at 
 New- York, 
 
 1. When I look upon the special developements of Euro- 
 pean civilization — when I contemplate the growing freedom 
 of the cities, and the middle class which had sprung up be- 
 tween the pretenders to divine rule on one hand, and the abject 
 serf on the other — when I consider the Reformation and the 
 invention of the Press — and then see on the southern shore of 
 the continent, an humble individual, amidst untold difficulties 
 and repeated defeats, pursuing the mysterious suggestions 
 which the mighty deep poured unceasingly upon his troubled 
 spirit, till, at last, with great and irrepressible energy of soul, 
 he discovered that there lay in the far western ocean, a conti- 
 nent open for the infusion of those elementary principles of 
 liberty, which were dwarfed in European soil, I have con- 
 cluded that the hand of destiny was there. 
 
 2. When I saw the immigration of the Pilgrims from the 
 chalky shores of England — in the night fleeing from their 
 native home — so dramatically and ably pictured by Mr. Web- 
 ster in his celebrated oration — when father, mother, brother, 
 wife, sister, lover, were all lost, by those melancholy wander- 
 ers, "stifling," in the language of one who is immortal in the 
 conception, " the mighty hunger of the human heart," and 
 landing amidst cold, and poverty, and death, upon the rude 
 focks of Plymouth — I have ventured to think the will of Deity 
 was there. 
 
 3. When I have remembered the revolution of *76 — the 
 seven years' war — three millions of men in arms against the 
 most powerful nation in history, and vindicating their inde- 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 303 
 
 pendence — I have thought that their sufferings and death 
 were not in vain. When I have gone and seen the forsaken 
 hearth-stone, looked in upon the battle field, upon the dying 
 and the dead — heard the agonizing cry, " water, for the sake 
 of God! water," — seeing the dissolution of this being — pale 
 lips pressing in death the yet loved images of wife, sister, 
 lover — I will not deem all these in vain. I cannot regard this 
 great continent, reaching from the Atlantic to the far Pacific^ 
 and from the St. Johns to the Rio del Norte, a barbarian peo- 
 ple of third rate civilization. 
 
 4. Like the Roman who looked back upon the glory of his 
 ancestors, in wo exclaiming, 
 
 " Great Scipio's ghost complains that we are slow, 
 And Pompey's shade walks unavenged among us," 
 
 the great dead hover around me — Lawrence, "don't give up 
 the ship" — Henry, "Give me liberty or give me death" — 
 Adams, "Survive or perish, lam for the declaration" — Allen, 
 " In the name of the living God I come!" 
 
 5. Come, then, thou Eternal ! who dwellest not in temples 
 made with hands, but who, in the city's crowd or by the far 
 forest stream, revealest thyself to the earnest seeker after the 
 true and the right; inspire our hearts — give us undying cour- 
 age to pursue the promptings of our spirit ; and whether we 
 shall be called in the shade of life to look upon as sweet, and 
 kind, and lovely faces as now — or, shut in by sorrow and 
 night, horrid visages shall gloom upon us in our dying hour — 
 
 Oh ! MY COUNTRY, MAYEST THOU YET BE FREE ! 
 
 In the first verse, Mr. Clay beautifuPy alludes to Christopher Columbus, 
 by whom America was discovered, in 1492. This western continent, a 
 knowledge of the existence of which, was disguised from the other three 
 quarters of the earth, until that period, comprises more than one-twentieth 
 part of the land-surface of the globe. Thousands of years, it 
 
 ■ " Lay hid in night — 
 
 God said : let Columbus be, and ail was light." 
 
 Could he have looked down the vista of time, and seen the schools, acade- 
 mies, colleges, churches, halls of justice, capitols, splendid edifices, beautiful 
 villages, and numerous cities which now adorn this broad continent, — 
 could he have beheld prospectively, the hosts of brave men destined to rise 
 up in this country, and cement the sacred cause of freedom with the best 
 blood coursing through their veins ; how must his philanthropic bosom 
 have been filled with the most delightful emotions. He couid not enjoy 
 that pleasure, but his memory will be gratefully cherished, as long as the 
 country, which, in justice should bear his name, exists. To use the sub- 
 
304 SELECT PIECES 
 
 
 lime language of the brave and patriotic General Joseph Warren : " May 
 our land be a land of liberty, the seat of virtue, the asylum of the oppress- 
 ed, a name and a praise in the whole earth, until the shock of time, shall 
 bury the empires of the world in undistinguished ruin." 
 
 135. The Hermit. — Dr. Beatie. 
 
 1 . At the close of the day, when the hamlet is stilly 
 
 And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove ; 
 When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill, 
 And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove. 
 
 2. 'Twas thus by the cave of the mountain afar, 
 
 While his harp rung symphonious, a hermit began, 
 No more with himself or with nature at war, 
 He thought as a sage, though he felt as a man. 
 
 3. " Ah ! why all abandoned to darkness and wo ; 
 
 Why, lone Philomela, that languishing fall ? 
 For spring shall return, and a lover bestow ; 
 And sorrow no longer thy bosom enthral. 
 
 4. But, if pity inspire thee, renew the sad lay — 
 
 Mourn, sweetest complainer ; man calls thee to mourn ; 
 O, sooth him whose pleasures, like thine, pass away ; 
 Pull quickly they pass — but they never return. 
 
 5. Now gliding remote, on the verge of the sky, 
 
 The moon, half extinguish'd her crescent displays ; 
 But lately I mark'd, when majestic on high, 
 
 She shone, and the planets were lost in her blaze. 
 
 6. Roll on thou fair orb, and with gladness pursue 
 
 The path that conducts thee to splendor again ; 
 But man's faded glory, what change shall renew? 
 Ah, fool ! to exult in a glory so vain. 
 
 7. 'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more ; 
 
 I mourn ; but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you ; 
 For morn is approaching, your charms to restore, 
 
 Perfum'd with fresh fragrance, and glitt'ring with dew; 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 305 
 
 8. Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn ; 
 
 Kind nature, the embryo blossom will save ; 
 But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn? 
 O, when shall "day dawn on the night of the grave ? 
 
 9. 'Twas thus by the glare of false science betray'd, 
 
 That leads, to bewilder ; and dazzles, to blind ; 
 My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade. 
 Destruction before me, and sorrow behind. 
 
 10. O, pity, great Father of Light, then I cried, 
 
 Thy creature, who fain would not wander from thee! 
 Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride; 
 
 From doubt and from darkness thou only canst free. 
 
 11. And darkness and doubt are now flying away; 
 
 No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn ; 
 So breaks on the traveller, faint and astray, 
 The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn. 
 
 12. See truth, love, and mercy, in triumph descending, 
 
 And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom ! 
 On the cold cheek of death, smiles and roses are blending, 
 And beauty immortal, awakes from the tomb." 
 
 The " Hermit " requires a low key, slow time, and long quantity. The 
 poet appeals most eloquently to every afflicted heart. Who can stand at 
 the grave of a parent, a child, a companion, or a friend, and not exclaim, 
 
 " When shall spring visit the mouldering urn ! 
 O, when shall day dawn on the night of the grave 1" 
 
 As the ark of the testimony is opened, a voice is heard to say, " I am 
 the resurrection and the life." Believing this heart-cheering declaration 
 from our Lord and Savior, we hehold, 
 
 " On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending, 
 And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb." 
 
 Dr. Beattie wrote nine verses of "the Hermit," while sceptical upon 
 religious subjects ; and, after experiencing religion, the tenth, eleventh, 
 and last. 
 
 26* 
 
306 SELECT PIECES 
 
 130. Extract from President Jefferson's Inaugural 
 Address. 
 
 1. During the contest of opinion through which we have 
 passed, the animation of discussions and of exertions has some- 
 times worn an aspect, which might impose on strangers, un- 
 used to think freely, and to speak and to write what they 
 think ; but this being now decided by the voice of the nation, 
 announced according to the rules of the constitution, all will, 
 of course, arrange themselves under the will of the law, and 
 unite in common efforts for the common good. 
 
 2. All, too, will bear in mind this sacred principle, that, 
 though the will of the majority is, in all cases, to prevail, that 
 will, to be rightful, must be reasonable ; that the minority 
 possess their equal rights, which equal laws must protect, and 
 to violate which, would be oppression. Let us then, fellow- 
 citizens, unite with one heart and one mind. 
 
 3. Let us restore to social intercourse that harmony and 
 affection, without which liberty, and even life itself, are but 
 dreary things ; and let us reflect, that, having banished from 
 our land that religious intolerance under which mankind so 
 long bled and suffered, we have yet gained little, if we coun- 
 tenance a political intolerance^ as despotic as wicked, and 
 capable of as bitter and bloody persecutions. 
 
 4. During the throes and convulsions of the ancient world ; 
 during the agonizing spasms of infuriated man, seeking, 
 through blood and slaughter, his long lost liberty ; it was not 
 wonderful that the agitation of the billows should reach even 
 this distant and peaceful shore ; that this should be more felt 
 and feared by some, and less by others ; and should divide 
 opinions, as to measures of safety. 
 
 5. But every difference of opinion is not a difference of 
 principle. We have called by different names, brethren of 
 the same principle. We are all republicans ; we are all fed- 
 eralists. If there be any among- us who would wish to dis- 
 
 i i • 
 solve this union, or to change its republican form, let them 
 
 stand undisturbed, as monuments of the safety with which 
 
 error of opinion may be tolerated, where reason is left free to 
 
 combat it. 
 
 6. I know, indeed, that some honest men fear that a repub- 
 lican government cannot be strong ; that this government is 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 307 
 
 not strong enough. But would the honest patriot, in the full 
 tide of successful experiment, abandon a government which 
 has so far kept us free and firm, on the theoretic and visionary 
 fear, that this government, the world's best hope, may, by pos- 
 sibility, want energy to preserve itself? I trust not ; I believe 
 this, on the contrary, the strongest government on earth. 
 
 7. I believe it the only one where every man, at the call of 
 the law, would fly to the standard of the law, and would meet 
 invasions of the public order as his own personal concern. 
 Sometimes it is said, that man cannot be trusted with the gov- 
 ernment of himself. Can he, then, be trusted with the govern- 
 ment of others? or have we found angels in the form of 
 kings, to govern him ? Let history answer the question. 
 
 8. Let us then, with courage and confidence, pursue our 
 own federal and republican principles : our attachment to 
 union and representative government. Kindly separated, by 
 nature and a wide ocean, from the exterminating havoc of one 
 quarter of the globe ; too high-minded to endure the degrada- 
 tions of the others; possessing a chosen country, with room 
 enough for our descendants to the thousandth and thousandth 
 generation ; entertaining a due sense of our equal right to the 
 use of our own faculties, to the acquisition of our own indus- 
 try, to honor and confidence from our fellow citizens, resulting 
 not from birth, but from our actions, and their sense of them ; 
 enlightened by a benign religion, professed, indeed, and prac- 
 tised in various forms, yet all of them inculcating honesty, 
 truth, temperance, gratitude, and the love of man ; acknow- 
 ledging and adoring an overruling Providence, which, by all 
 its dispensations, proves that it delights in the happiness of man 
 here, and his greater happiness hereafter ; with all these 
 blessings, what more is necessary to make us a happy and 
 prosperous people? 
 
 9. Still one thing more, fellow citizens ; a wise and frugal 
 government, which shall restrain men from injuring one an- 
 other ; shall leave them otherwise free to regulate their own 
 pursuits of industry and improvement ; and shall not take 
 from the mouth of labor, the bread it has earned. This is the 
 sum of good government; and this is necessary to close the 
 circle of our felicities. 
 
308 SELECT PIECES 
 
 137. Extract from Demosthenes' Oration on the Crown. 
 
 1. But since iEschines hath insisted so much upon the 
 event, I shall hazard a bold assertion. But, in the name of 
 heaven, let it not be deemed extravagant; let it be weighed, 
 with candor. I say, then, that had we all known what for- 
 tune was to attend our efforts ; had we all foreseen the final 
 issue ; had you foretold it, iEschines, you whose voice was 
 never heard, yet even in such a case, must this city have pur- 
 sued the very same conduct, if she had retained a thought of 
 glory, of her ancestors, or of future times. For thus, she could 
 only have been deemed unfortunate in her attempts ; and mis- 
 fortunes are the lot of all men, whenever it may please heaven 
 to inflict them. 
 
 2. But if that state, which once claimed the first rank in 
 Greece, had resigned this rank, in time of danger, she had 
 incurred the censure of betraying the whole nation to the ene- 
 my. If we had indeed given up those points without one 
 blow, for which our fathers encountered every peril, who 
 would not have spurned you with scorn ? You, the author of 
 such conduct, not the state or me ? In the name of heaven, 
 say with what face could we have met those foreigners who 
 sometimes visit us, if such scandalous supineness on our part 
 had brought affairs to their present situation? 
 
 3. If Philip had been chosen general of the Grecian army, 
 and some other state had drawn the sword against this insid- 
 ious nomination, and fought the battle, unassisted by the 
 Athenians, that people, who, in ancient times, never preferred 
 inglorious security to honorable danger ? What part of 
 Greece, what part of the barbarian world, has not heard, that 
 the Thebans, in their period of success ; that the Lacedemo- 
 nians, whose power was older and more extensive ; that the 
 king of Persia, would have cheerfully and joyfully consented, 
 that this state should enjoy her own dominions, together with 
 an accession of territory ample as her wishes, upon this condi- 
 tion, that she should receive law, and suffer another state to 
 preside in Greece? 
 
 4. But, to Athenians, this was a condition unbecoming 
 their descent, intolerable to their spirit, repugnant to their 
 nature. Athens was never once known to live in a slavish, 
 though a secure obedience v to unjust and arbitrary power. 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 30$ 
 
 No ! our whole history is one series of noble contests for pre- 
 eminence ; the whole period of our existence hath been spent 
 in braving dangers, for the sake of glory and renown. And 
 so highly do you esteem such conduct, so consonant to the 
 Athenian character, that those of your ancestors, who were 
 most distinguished in the pursuit of it, are ever the most favo- 
 rite objects of your praise. 
 
 5. And with reason. For who can reflect without aston- 
 ishment upon the magnanimity of those men, who resigned 
 their lands, gave up their city, and embarked in their ships, 
 to avoid the odious state of subjection ? Who chose Themis- 
 tocles, the adviser of this conduct, to command their forces ; 
 and when Crysilus proposed that they should yield to the 
 terms prescribed, stoned him to death? Nay, the public 
 indignation was not yet allayed. Your very wives inflicted 
 the same vengeance on his wife. 
 
 6. For the Athenians of that day looked out for no speak- 
 er, no general to procure them a state of prosperous slavery. 
 They had the spirit to reject even life, unless they were 
 allowed to enjoy that life in freedom. For it was a princi- 
 ple fixed deeply in every breast, that man was not born to his 
 parents only, but to his country. And mark the distinction. 
 He who regards himself as born only to his parents, waits in 
 passive submission, for the hour of his natural dissolution. 
 He who considers that he is the child of his country also, is 
 prepared to meet his fate freely, rather than behold that coun- 
 try reduced to vassalage ; and thinks those insults and dis- 
 graces, which he must meet, in a state enslaved, much more 
 terrible than death. 
 
 7. Should I then attempt to assert, that it was I who inspir- 
 ed you with sentiments worthy of your ancestors, I should 
 meet the just resentment of every hearer. No ; — it is my 
 point to shew, that such sentiments are properly your own ; 
 that they were the sentiments of my country long before 
 my days. I claim but my share of merit in having acted on 
 such principles, in every part of my administration. He, then, 
 who condemns every part of my administration ; he who 
 directs you to treat me with severity, as one who hath in- 
 volved the state in terrors and dangers, while he labors to 
 deprive me of present honor, robs you of the applause of all 
 posterity. 
 
 8. For if you now pronounce, that as my public conduct 
 
310 SELECT PIECES 
 
 hath not been right, Ctesiphon must stand condemned, it must 
 be thought that you yourselves have acted wrong, not that you 
 owe your present state to the caprice of fortune. But it can* 
 not be ! No ! my countrymen ! it cannot be that you have 
 acted wrong in encountering danger bravely, for the liberty 
 and safety of all Greece. 
 
 9. No,— ^by those generous souls of ancient times, who were 
 exposed at Marathon ! By those who stood arrayed at Platsea ! 
 By those who encountered the Persian fleet, at Salamis, who 
 fought at Artemisium! By all those illustrious sons of Athens, 
 whose remains lie deposited in the public monuments ! all of 
 whom received the same honorable interment from their 
 country ; not those only who prevailed, not those only who 
 were victorious. And with reason. What was the part of 
 gallant men they all performed ! Their success was such as 
 the Supreme Director of the world dispensed to each. 
 
 The oration of Demosthenes on the crown, from which the above ex- 
 tract is taken, is a master piece of Grecian eloquence. ^Eschines accused 
 Demosthenes of being the cause of all the evils which befel Athens The 
 extract contains the orator's answer. It is a fine specimen of manly, argu- 
 mentative, and impassioned eloquence. The position which he labors to 
 establish, is, that success is not always the result even of well directed 
 efforts, but the gift of heaven. And who does not admire the consum- 
 mate skill with which he argues the point 1 May we not imagine that his 
 elocution on that occasion, somewhat resembled Homer's description of 
 lightning — 
 
 " By turns one flash succeeds, as one expires, 
 And heaven flames thick with momentary fires." 
 
 The most glorious era in the history of eloquence is marked by the name 
 of Demosthenes. He wrote sixty-one orations. That monotony which 
 prevails so generally among modern speakers, might be in some measure 
 remedied, by studying and declaiming them. 
 
 138. Extract from Cicero's Speech for Cluentius. 
 
 1. You, T. Attius, I know, had every where given it out, 
 that I was to defend my client, not from facts, not upon the 
 footing of innocence, hut by taking advantage merely of the 
 law in his behalf. Have I done so ? I appeal to yourself. 
 Have I sought to cover him behind a legal defence only?; 
 On the contrary, have I not pleaded his cause as if he had 
 
FOR EXERCISES. 31 1 
 
 been a senator, liable, by the Cornelian law, to be capitally 
 convicted; and shown that neither proof nor probable pre- 
 sumption lies against his innocence. 
 
 2. In doing so, I must acquaint you, that I have complied 
 with the desire of Cluentius himself. For when he first con- 
 sulted me in this cause, and when I informed him that it was 
 clear, no action could be brought against him from the Corne- 
 lian law, he instantly besought and obtested me, that I would 
 not rest his defence upon that ground ; saying, with tears in 
 his eyes, that his reputation was as dear to him as his life; 
 and that what he sought, as an innocent man, was not only 
 to be absolved from any penalty, but to be acquitted in the 
 opinion of all his fellow-citizens. 
 
 3. Hitherto, then, I have pleaded this cause upon his plan. 
 But my client must forgive me, if now I shall plead it upon 
 my own. For I should be wanting to myself, and to that re- 
 gard which my character and station require me to bear to the 
 laws of the state, if I should allow any person to be judged 
 of by a law which does not bind him. 
 
 4. You, Attius, indeed, have told us, that it was a scandal 
 and reproach, that a Roman knight should be exempted from 
 those penalties to which a senator, for corrupting judges, is 
 liable. But I must tell you, that it would be a much greater 
 reproach in a state that is regulated by law, to depart from 
 the law. What safety have any of us in our persons ; what 
 security for our rights, if the law shall be set aside ? 
 
 5. By what title do you, Q,. Naso, sit in that chair, and pre- 
 side in this judgment ? By what right, T. Attius, do you 
 accuse, or do I defend ? Whence all the solemnity and pomp 
 of judges, and clerks, and officers, of which this house is full? 
 Does not all proceed from the law, which regulates the whole 
 departments of the state ; which, as a common bond, holds 
 its members together ; and, like the soul within the body, ac- 
 tuates and directs all the public functions ? 
 
 6. On what ground, then, dare you speak lightly of the 
 law, or move that, in a criminal trial, judges should advance 
 one step beyond what it permits them to go? The wisdom 
 of our ancestors has found, that as senators and magistrates 
 enjoy higher dignities, and greater advantages than other 
 members of the state, the law should also, with regard to them, 
 be more strict ; and the purity and uncorruptedness of their 
 morals, be guarded by more severe sanctions. But if it be 
 
312 SELECT PIECES. 
 
 your pleasure that this institution should be altered ; if you 
 wish to have the Cornelian law concerning bribery, extended 
 to all ranks, then let us join, not in violating the law, but in 
 proposing to have this alteration made by a new law. 
 
 7. My client, Cluentius, will be foremost in this measure, 
 Who now, while the old law subsists, rejected its defence, and 
 required his cause to be pleaded, as if he had been bound by 
 it. But though he would not avail himself of the law, you 
 are bound injustice, not to stretch it beyond its proper limits. 
 
 In the ancient republics, especially in Rome, during the days of Cicero, 
 11 the laws ruled men, and not men the laws." It ought to be so in mod- 
 ern republics. Obedience to the laws of the land, is the first, second, and 
 last quality of a good citizen. Patriotism consists chiefly in upholding and 
 sustaining at all times, and under all circumstances, " the supremacy of the 
 laws." If we trample them in the dust, we strike away all the pledges of 
 our common safety. Cicero's speech inculcates sound doctrine in favor of 
 obeying laws. It requires considerable energy in its elocution. 
 
 Greece and Rome produced each of them but one accomplished orator. 
 It has been eloquently and truly said : " Demosthenes snatched from 
 Cicero the glory of being the first, — Cicero from Demosthenes that of being 
 the only orator." 
 
 THE END* 
 
BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 
 UKA©™© EL, PHASIC 
 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION: 
 
 NOTICES AND RECOMMENDATIONS. 
 
 From the Albany Argus. 
 
 Sweet's Practical Elocution, designed as a Text and reading 
 Book in Common Schools and Higher Institutions. 
 
 This work is now stereotyped and published by E. H. Pease, 
 of this city. The author has carefully revised the work, and 
 made some important additions. The iirst 54 pages comprise 
 observations on Elocution, a phonological exhibition of the ele- 
 mentary sounds of the English language, illustrations and exam- 
 ples for exercises in articulation, emphasis, quantity, climax, 
 rhetorical pause, and inflections of the voice. The remaining 
 258 pages contain 137 pieces for exercise in reading and recita- 
 tion, selected from the best and purest writings of the present 
 and former ages. To furnish an agreeable variety of exercises 
 for schools, a number of pieces have been inserted, which are as 
 suitable for singing as for elocutionary reading. 
 
 But the peculiar feature of this w r ork, which pre-eminently 
 distinguishes it from all others on the subject, is, the Explana- 
 tory Notes attached to each piece. These may be regarded as 
 the sine-qua-non — the indispensable condition of correct and ele- 
 gant recitation, and of good reading. 
 
 The work appears in a tasteful and substantial form, and does 
 credit to the publisher. 
 
Notices and Recommendations of 
 
 Extract from a Recommendation furnished by S. W. Seton, Esq.., 
 Agent of the Public School Society of the city of New York. 
 
 Having examined Mr. Sweet's work en Practical Elocution, I 
 do not hesitate to express my favorable opinion of his system, 
 believing it to be better adapted to common schools, and every 
 purpose of rhetorical instruction, than any other. Being 
 a natural system, it cannot but be both easily comprehended and 
 practised. It is to be wished, that a system so true to nature 
 may prevail and give the breath of life to the future orators of 
 the American forum and senate. The selections for exercise, so 
 far as I have examined, seem worthy of approval, as tests of 
 rhetorical skill, and a medium of pure moral impressions. The 
 explanation of the subject matter of each extract is a useful 
 guide and model in practice, and the teacher will find it easy to 
 extend still further such necessary descriptions previous to read- 
 ing or reciting. 
 
 New York, June 17, 1846. 
 
 From L. P. Brockett, M. D., of Hartford, Ct. 
 
 Sweet's Practical Elocution.— It is with sincere pleasure, 
 and from a full conviction of its merits, that the writer, after 
 careful examination, recommends the work of Prof. Sweet, to 
 the attentton of teachers, and the public. The work possesses 
 three prominent excellencies, which give it a strong claim upon 
 the public regard. These are, 
 
 1st. This system of Elocution is natural and easy, and at the 
 same time eminently philosophical ; 
 
 2d. The selections are generally new and made with great care 
 and judgment. 
 
 3d. The Historical. Biographical and Critical Notes, appended 
 to each selection, render the tcork highly valuable. 
 
 As an illustration, take Webster's version of the speech of John 
 Adams, in defence of the Declaration of Independence. How 
 does the knowledge of the circumstances in which Adams was 
 placed, heighten our admiration for his patriotism, and lead us, 
 imbued with the same spirit, to enunciate those noble senti- 
 ments, in some measure, as he himself would have done. And 
 with how much more pathos, can we read that sweet little lyric 
 of Gen. Morris, " Woodman, spare that tree," after learning the 
 interesting incident, related on the 148th page. The only won- 
 der is, that writers on Elocution have not, ere this, perceived 
 the necessity of this aid, in the delivery of their selections. The 
 notes, so far as we have had opportunity of verifying them, seem 
 remarkably free from errors in regard to facts, and the known 
 reputation of the Professor, is sufficient guaranty of the accu- 
 racy and correctness of his directions for reading. The style in 
 which the work is brought out, is very creditable to its worthy 
 publisher, Mr. E. H. Pease. 
 
 Hartford, Ct., June 22, 134G. 
 
SwceVs Practical Elocution. 
 
 From the Saratoga Republican. 
 
 Sweet's Elocution. — With pleasure we announce a new 
 and greatly improved edition of this valuable school book. It 
 has already passed through three editions, and now comes to us 
 in a fourth, revised with the greatest care, and made permanent, 
 3it the stereotype establishment of the Messrs. Davisons, of this 
 village. 
 
 To those who are not acquainted with the book, we would 
 say, with assurance, that it will meet with approval. Examine 
 the work. Independent of the admirable directions for speak- 
 ing and reading, the choice extracts, of which the book is mostly 
 made up, will well repay the perusal. We ihope this book may 
 be introduced into our schools, and as a consequence, that the 
 rising generation may be readers and speakers who do not vio- 
 late every rule of natural elocution. 
 
 From the Hon. Alfred Conkling. Judge of the United Slaips 
 Courts. 
 Owasco, (near Auburn,) April 26, 1841. 
 Having examined a Sweet's Elocution, 7 ' it affords me pleasure 
 to recommend it for reading and declamation in American 
 schools. The ?iotes appended to the pieces are instructive and 
 useful and render it, in connection with its other merits, prefer- 
 able to any other work of its kind with which I am acquainted. 
 
 ALFRED CONKLING. 
 
 From the Hon. Reuben Hyde Walworth, Chancellor of the 
 Slate of New-York. 
 
 Saratoga Springs, July 23, 1345. 
 
 Dear Sir — I have examined your " Practical Elocution, so far 
 a,s my time would allow, and am satisfied it is a valuable school 
 book for the instruction of youth, in the principles as well as the 
 practice of reading and speaking well. It may also be studied 
 with profit by most persons who are more advanced in life. I 
 therefore trust you will be successful in the new edition which 
 you propose to stereotype. Yours, &c. 
 
 R. HYDE WALWORTH. 
 
 S. N. Sweet, Professor of Elocution. 
 
 From Gov. Seward. 
 
 Albany, Nov, 23, 1839, 
 
 My Dear Sir — I return you my thanks for your kindness in 
 sending me a copy of your useful work on Elocution. I have 
 carefully examined it, and am satisfied that it will prove emi- 
 nently useful in our public schools. Accept my congratulations. 
 It ought to be a source of great satisfaction to you that you have 
 accomplished a work which will e^ert a beneficial influence in 
 
Notices and Recommendations of 
 
 the education of our countrymen. With sincere wishes for your 
 continued usefulness, I remain your old friend and obedient ser- 
 vant, WILLIAM H. SEWARD. 
 Samuel N. Sweet, Esquire, Professor of Elocution. 
 
 The Opinion of Rev. Ira Mayhew, Superintendent of Common 
 Schools in the county of Jefferson, now Superintendent of Pub- 
 lic Instruction for the State of Michigan. 
 
 Professor Samuel N. Sweet : 
 
 Dear Sir — Soon after the first edition of your " Elocution" was 
 published, I purchased a copy, with the examination of which, 
 I was so weli pleased, that I immediately introduced it as a text- 
 book into the Seminary, then under my supervision. It was a 
 favorite work with my pupils, and was by many of them perused 
 not only with great pleasure but with much profit. Indeed, I 
 have never known advanced students use any other ree-ding book 
 with so much of both pleasure and profit. The explanatory 
 notes accompanying the pieces, add much to the value of the 
 work. 
 
 I remain as ever, yours truly, 
 
 IRA MAYHEW. 
 
 Adams, Jefferson co., N. Y., January 1, 1843. 
 
 The Opinion of the Committee on Books, extracted from the Re- 
 port o their Chairman, Rev. John Sessions, of Sandlake, 
 made to the County Education Society, of the county of Rensse- 
 laer, and adopted, June 27, 1845. 
 
 ,v Sweet's Elocution is sufficiently recommended by being used 
 in some twenty Academies in the state of New-York, under the 
 care of the Regents of the University. The elements of good 
 reading and speaking are forcibly set forth by Professor Sweet, 
 and the pieces for practice are of the highest order." 
 
 The Opinions of Rev. George W. Eaton, D. D , Professor of 
 Mathematics and Natural Philosophy , and Rev. Asahel. C. 
 Kendrick, A. M. r Professor of the Latin and Greek Lan- 
 guages in the Theological and Literary Institution at Hamil- 
 ton, N. Y. 
 
 " We have examined f Sweefs Elocution/ and we think it is 
 a very excellent work on that important branch of education. 
 The pieces which it contains, accompanied as they are by ex- 
 planatory notes, are well adapted to the purposes of teaching, 
 and learning reading and oratory. They are moreover of a high 
 order in their moral tone. We should be glad to see this book 
 in general use in our institutions of learning. 
 
 GEORGE W. EATON, 
 ASAHAL C. KENDRICK, 
 Hamilton, Nov. 33d ? 1843, 
 
SweeVs Practical Elocution. 
 
 From Lorenzo L. Baker, Esquire, Town Superintendent of thi 
 Town of Lee, Oneida County, N. Y. 
 
 "We have succeeded in introducing more than two hundred co- 
 pies of Professor Sweet's invaluable work on elocution into the 
 common schools of the town of Lee. As a finishing reading 
 book; we must give it a decided preference. 
 
 .LORENZO L. BAKER. 
 
 Lee Centre. February 7th, 1846. 
 
 The opinion of the Committee on Books, extracted from their 
 Report, submitted to the Board of Education of the City of 
 Rochester, October 5, 1843, which on motion was adopted and 
 ordered to be published, 
 
 A work entitled " Practical Eleeatroa," by Professor Samue! 
 N. Sweet, has been laid before the committee. A brief examin- 
 ation of it has satisfied them that it is a work admirably adapted 
 to improve pupils in the art of speaking and reading. The se- 
 lections are from the best writers and speakers the world has 
 known, and are suited alike to pupils of common schools and 
 those more advanced. As such, it is earnestly commended to 
 the attention of the teaehers of Public Schools. 
 
 L. K. FAULKNER, 
 Chairman of the Committee on Books. 
 
 The Opinion of the Hon. Mr. Brown. 
 Professor S. N. Sweet : 
 
 Dear Sir — Your " Practical Elocution" is, in my judgment, a 
 v/ork of superior merit. It contains a very great variety of style 
 and sentiment, and the selections appear to have been made not 
 only with much good taste, but with peculiar adaptation to the 
 design of the work. 
 
 A book on Elocution should exhibit the best specimens of 
 writing in the language, and a book to be used as a reading book 
 should aim not only to instruct the bead but to cultivate the 
 heart. This your book will do, from the fact that you have 
 selected from the best and purest writings of the present age, 
 and of former ages. 
 
 There are in this book some pieces of chaste and sterling wit, 
 some of great pathos, some of extreme beauty and sublimity, 
 and they are all of great practical utility. The instruction 
 which the book contains is calculated to be useful to the reader. 
 This is a consideration very important in a book to be used by 
 youth. 
 
 The book is valuable for the notes of explanation which fol- 
 low each extract, as well as for the number, variety and excel- 
 lence of the extracts themselves. I would most cordially recom- 
 mend this work, not only to schools but to private families ; it is 
 
 *1 
 
Sweet 9 s Practical Elocution. 
 
 interesting and instructive to the general reader, as well as to 
 the student of Elocution. 
 
 Assembly Chamber, Albany, May 6, 1845. 
 
 LYSANDER H. BROWN, 
 Late Dep. Sup't of Jeff, co., and Chairman of the Committee on 
 Colleges, Academies and Common Schools in the New-York 
 Legislature. 
 
 From the Christian Advocaif and Journal. 
 
 Practical Elocution, by Prof. S. N. Sweet. — The author 
 of tins work has brought to his assistance an extensive and fa- 
 miliar acquaintance with the best writers on Elocution, and a 
 personal knowledge of the principal orators of our country. Be- 
 sides this, he has brought the fruits of his own practice and ob- 
 servation, which have been extended for several years, through 
 many of the states. Professor Sweet has shown himself to be 
 no theorist. His work is highly practical. His very theory is 
 practice. He has not attempted to lay down every thing by 
 rule, but has left something to the dictates of common sense and 
 taste. Multum in parvo seems to have been the author's motto. 
 
 His " Select pieces," which make the second part of his book, 
 are selected with great abilitv and good taste from the vast fields 
 of ancient and modern lore, and are, of themselves, well worth 
 the price of the book. To these pieces he has appended notes, 
 historical and critical, which greatly enhance the value of the 
 work. The author does not abandon his pupil after the pre- 
 scription of a few abstract rules, but generously offers to conduct 
 him through all those varied and difficult, exercises by which he 
 acquires the mastery of the science. This assistance, he has 
 greatlv rendered in his notes. 
 
 New-York, Nov. 29, 1839. 
 
 Want of room obliges us to omit commendatory notices from 
 the following, among other popular Journals of the day : 
 
 New York Evangelist. 
 
 Auburn Journal and Advertiser. 
 
 Cayuga Patriot. 
 
 Northern Advocate. 
 
 New York Tribune. 
 
 New York Commercial Advertiser. 
 
 Courier and Enquirer. 
 
 New Yorker. 
 
 
 :•! 
 
SOW WELL AND REAP WELL : 
 
 Or Fireside Education. By S. G. Goodrich, author 
 of Peter Parley's Tales. Third Edition. Albany: 
 Erastus H. Pease. 1846. 
 
 This is the title of a neatly printed and well bound volume of 
 343 pages, laid upon our table by the publisher. The name of 
 the author of this excellent work is too well known to the friends 
 of Education, both in this country and Europe, to require any 
 thing more than a mere announcement of the book. It is emi- 
 nently practical in all its suggestions, and should be in the hands 
 of every parent and teacher. 
 
 We have only to present a few of the subjects considered, to 
 indicate the character of the work, to wit: '*' Provision of Pro- 
 vidence that the controlling lessons of life shall be given by pa- 
 rents. The Fireside. Obligations of parents. Leading cha- 
 racteristics of children. Family Government, &c. ;; There are 
 but few even of the best educated among parents or teachers, 
 who would not be greatly benefitted by this work, and we hope, 
 for the welfare of society, that this book may be widely circu- 
 lated and carefully read. — Teachers' Advocate. 
 
 Maffit's Magazine, (edited by Rev. J. N. Maffit,) says: 
 The third edition of this most excellent work, by the far famed 
 Peter Parley, should be in the possession of every family. In- 
 deed, when we con its pages, w 7 e wonder somewhat how 7 fami- 
 lies get along without it. It seems so indispensable to young 
 mothers, aye, and to young fathers too, and we might safely add, 
 to a great many old ones, that we can never hereafter consider 
 any family library complete, or any child dealt as fairly with as 
 it ought to be where this book is wanting. The very preface is 
 a volume in itself. 
 
 A valuable book from the press of E. H. Pease of this city. 
 The type is very clear and large, and the general execution more 
 than creditable. The matter is decidedly useful, and what is of 
 not less importance, narrated in the original vein of the well- 
 known Peter Parley. The most instructive lessons are soon 
 forgotten, unless graven upon the memory by some striking pe- 
 culiarity. The present work is admirably calculated for the 
 young of both sexes. — Albany Atlas. 
 
Sow Well and Reap Well. 
 
 The following is from the American Quarterly Journal of Ag- 
 riculture and Science, edited by Dr. E. Emmons and A. Osborn, 
 Esq. 
 
 Mr. Goodrich, the author of the work entitled Sow Well and 
 Reap Well, is known wherever the young are permitted and 
 encouraged to read; he has scattered precious seed over the hills 
 of New England, and upon the prairies of the west and south of 
 our great country; and even on the shores of Europe it has 
 fallen, an 1 in his own day he has gathered the mature and rip- 
 ened fruit The special object of the author of this work is to 
 enforce the doctrine, that none need expect to reap a better fruit 
 than he has sown. The doctrine is based upon a natural law, 
 and is illustrated and enforced by the common results and expe- 
 rience of every day. 
 
 It is by such books as this circulating throughout our country, 
 that we hope to see the true ends and aims of life distinctly com- 
 prehended, and as positively acted upon. And at such times as 
 these upon which we have fallen, do we need checks to certain 
 evils which are growing up in the literary and political 
 worlds. 
 
 This work is intended to illustrate " Fireside Education," and 
 every page is replete with original thought and valuable counsel. 
 This is the third edition, and is published by E. H. Pease, Book- 
 seller, State street. We cordially recommend it to all. as a book 
 to be read with profit. — Albany Citizen. 
 
 I have read with great pleasure, Fireside Education, and be- 
 lieve it is not only much needed, but well calculated to advance 
 the noblest work of man, the tuition of the heart. — Hon. D. P. 
 King, of the Mass. Senate. 
 
 The exceeding great popularity of Mr. Goodrich's writings 
 will secure to this work a favorable reception, and indeed it de- 
 serves such a reception. — Annals of Education. 
 
 This work may be read with a vast deal more profit and 
 pleasure than can be obtained from most books on education. 
 
 The principles of morality and intellectual culture are treated 
 in a style at once simple and familiar. — New England Papers. 
 
 A noble work — the author speaks to men, to Americans, and 
 Christians, in a dignified and powerful manner, and it deserves 
 the earnest consideration of all. — N. Y. Evangelist. 
 
Sow Well and Reap Well. 
 
 Chaste and energetic in style, and every page imparting a 
 sound and rational philosophy. — Troy paper. 
 
 Mr. Goodrich is a great benefactor of the human race. He 
 has long beon devoted to the benevolent object of establishing a 
 proper system of education. — New York Paper. 
 
 It is written in a style of elegant simplicity, and the subjects 
 discussed are rendered as brilliant as noonday. 
 
 Fireside Education is one of the best books ever published on 
 this subject. 
 
 Simple, concise, and like every thing from the pen of Peter 
 Parley, exceedingly instructive. — Philadelphia Papers. 
 
 Perhaps no volume ever issued from the American press of 
 greater practical utility than Fireside Education. — Baltimore 
 Papers. 
 
 It mainly teaches, in a most beautiful style, and with pertinent 
 and interesting illustrations, those truths concerning the forma- 
 tion of character by domestic influences which have been well 
 established by the common sense and experience of mankind. — 
 New- York Observer, 
 
CATECHISM OF 
 
 AGRICULTURAL CHEMISTRY 
 
 AND GEOLOGY: 
 
 By James F. W. Johnston, M. A., F. R. SS. L. & E 
 with an Introduction by John Pitkin Norton, of 
 Farmington, Connecticut, 
 
 RECOMMENDATIONS. 
 
 From Hon. Samuel Young, Secretary of State, and Sujjerintend- 
 ent of Common Schools of the State of New York : 
 
 I have carefully examined the Catechism of Professor John- 
 ston, on Agriculture. It is the only scientific work on that sub- 
 ject I have ever seen, which by its shortness and simplicity is 
 adapted to the capacity of children; and which, on being illus- 
 trated by cheap and simple experiments, as he recommends, 
 cannot fail to make a lasting impression on the juvenile mind. 
 
 It gives the analysis of different plants, of animals and of 
 soils, exhibiting the organic and inorganic substances of which 
 they are composed, and teaching the important truths that vege- 
 tables derive a part of their nourishment from the air, and the 
 remainder from the earth.; that different vegetables. require dif- 
 ferent kinds of food, and in variable quantities; that the soil 
 may be destitute of nutrition for one kind of plant, and not for 
 another; and the means are explained of supplying to an ex- 
 hausted or meagre soil its deficiencies. It also gives the ration- 
 ale of the dairy and the fattening of animals. 
 
 This little work is the basis of both agricultural art and sci- 
 ence. A knowledge of its principles is within the comprehen- 
 sion of every child of twelve years old ; and if its truths were 
 impressed on the minds of the young, a foundation would belaid 
 for a vast improvement in that most important occupation which 
 feeds and clothes the human race. Instead of conjecture, and 
 hazard, and doubt and experiment, as heretofore, a knowledge 
 of the composition of sokls, the food of plants, and the processes 
 
Agricultural Chemistry and Geology. 
 
 of nature in the culture and growth of crops, would elevate agri- 
 Culture to a conspicuous rank among the exact sciences. 
 
 I hope that parents will be willing to introduce this brief Cat- 
 echism into the Common Schools of this State. 
 
 S. YOUNG. 
 
 Albany, 24th January, 1845. 
 
 Yale College Laboratory, 7 
 
 New Haven, Conn., 20th January, 1S45. $ 
 
 I have read with great pleasure and profit the condensed little 
 Agricultural Catechism of Prof. James F. W.Johnston of Scot- 
 land. Like every production of his pen, it is characterized by a 
 sound, practical good sense, which adds double value to his sci- 
 entific labors, rendering them available to the very class for 
 whom they are more especially designed — practical farmers. 
 
 I learned with pleasure from Prof. Johnston, that Mr. John 
 P. Norton was about to edit, with an introduction, his Agricul- 
 tural Catechism. This American edition should be in every 
 village school in the land, as being within the comprehension of 
 all intelligent children j and it cannot indeed be too highly re- 
 commended to the attention of all classes of teachers, as the best 
 synopsis yet made of the valuable facts and principles which 
 have been established in the important science of agriculture. 
 
 B. SILLIMAN, Jr. 
 
 I consider J. F. W. Johnston's Catechism of Agricultural 
 Chemistry and Geology, to be extremely well adapted to the use 
 of schools, and that it ought to be introduced as a textbook into 
 all our rural districts where farming is the principal employ- 
 ment of the population. The time has come when agriculture 
 is to be taught as a science as well a's cultivated as an art, and a - 
 little book like this sheds more light on the nature of soils, the 
 elementary principles of plants, and the food necessary for their 
 growth and maturity, in a small compass, than any other publi- 
 cation I have ever seen. The youthful mind can easily be made 
 to comprehend the principles it teaches, and we are wanting to 
 our own and the great interests of our country, if at this time we 
 do not do all in our power to create a taste and diffuse a know- 
 ledge of so important a pursuit. 
 
 J. P. BEEKM4N, 
 Late President of N. Y. S. A. Society. 
 
 Kinderhook, Jan. 22, 1845. 
 
 Having examined Professor Johnston's Catechism on Agricul- 
 tural Chemistry and Geology. I most cordially unite in the re- 
 commendation of the work. Its introduction into our Common 
 Schools, will form a new era in the education of our children. 
 The time has arrived in which every proper effort should be 
 
 
Agricultural Chemistry and Geology. 
 
 made to give such an education to the rising generation as will 
 prepare them rightly to appreciate, as well as successfully to 
 follow, the pursuits of Agriculture, for which most of them are 
 designed. It will give me great pleasure to do all in my power 
 to disseminate this little work, which I doubt not will produce 
 the most happy effects throughout our country. 
 
 BENJ. P. JOHNSON, 
 Rome, Jan. 23d, 1845. Pres't N. Y. State Ag. Society. 
 
 From the Am. Quarterly Journal of Agriculture and Science. 
 
 The reputation of this work is so well established, that it is 
 hardly necessary at this late day to recommend it. It is cer- 
 tainly as useful to a large class of farmers as to the pupils in 
 schools. It is plain, simple, and contains all the elements of 
 agricultural chemistry; and as much of chemistry as this work 
 contains, must be in his possession, if he would read the ordi- 
 nary agricultural journals of the day. 
 
 Young men may take it into the field in their pockets, for in- 
 struction, while their teams are resting in the furrow. 
 
 Founded on the History of Joseph, by Wm, B. Sprague, 
 D. D. 1 vol. Umo. 
 
 CONTENTS — OUTLINE OF THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH. 
 
 Letter 1. Danger from excessive parental indulgence. 2. Dan- 
 ger from injurious treatment. 3. Danger from being away from 
 home. 4. Danger from living in a corrupt state of society. 5. 
 Danger from being suddenly cast into adversity. 6. Danger 
 from being intrusted with the interests of others. 7. Danger 
 from coming into possession of great wealth. 8. Integrity. 9. 
 Diligence. 10. Economy. 11. Dignity. 12. Sympathy. 13. 
 Forgiveness of Injuries. 14. Filial regard. 15. Dependence 
 on God. 16. Virtue crowned with safety. 17. Virtue crowned 
 with peace. 18. Virtue crowned with riches. 24. Virtue crown- 
 ed with honor. 25. Virtue crowned with usefulness. 26. Virtue 
 crowned with heaven. 
 
 Letters on Practical Subjects, to a Daughter s 
 
 By Wm. B. Sprague, D. D. 1 vol. 12mo. 
 
 Contents — 1. Introduction. 2 Early Friendships. 3. Edu- 
 cation — general directions^ 4. Education — various branches. 
 5. Education — domestic economy. 6. General reading. 7. Inde- 
 pendence of ^nind. 8. Forming the manners. 9. Conversation. 
 10. Amusements. 11. Intercourse with the world. 12. Marriage. 
 13. Forming religious sentiments. 14. Proper mode of treating 
 religious error. 15. Practical religion. 16. Self-knowledge. 
 17. Self-government. IS. Humanity. 19. Devotion to Christian 
 benevolence. 21. Christian zeal. 22. Improvement of Time. 
 23. Preparation for Death. 
 
 9 
 
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